“What do you mean, ‘cleared the mountain’?” Athena asked. “What happened to my brother and the others?”

“What do you think happened?” Ares sneered. “They ran. Hermes always runs. And I suppose the Moirae did, too, when they understood they couldn’t control that girl. I don’t know how they managed it, with their legs melded together. Or at least I don’t like to picture it.”

It had been a loss on both sides, then. Maybe it was petty, but that made Athena feel better. The Fates were forced to scuttle off, and Ares had lost Hera.

“So now you’re looking for another shadow to cower in?” Athena asked. “Thinking maybe if you help me out of here, I might let you hide in mine?”

“You’re not throwing much of a shadow these days, sister. In case you haven’t noticed.”

Athena gripped Odysseus’ shoulders, ashamed. Even though the idea choked her, Ares was right. He’d been right when he warned her not to go to Olympus, and he was right that she was less. The goddess of wisdom and battle strategy had rushed in and been swatted like a child. And instead of regrouping she’d run away to wallow, half-mad in the underworld. For once Athena was glad of the dark. Ares couldn’t see the wetness in her eyes.

“You came to make a deal, Ares,” she said. “So spit it out.”

“I’ll help you get your boy toy out of here in one piece,” he said. “And once we’re out, you’ll help me and mine should it come to blows with the Moirae and their unkillable bodyguard.”

“Should it come to blows with the Moirae,” Athena repeated, and chuckled. Ares sounded terrified. Under the wing of the Moirae he’d been safe. Unbeatable. Now he was just as fucked as the rest of them.

“You and yours,” she said. “I suppose that means the wolves and Aphrodite.”

“Yes.”

The wolves and Aphrodite were the things that Henry and Cassandra hated the most. If Athena took the deal, she’d wind up fighting two wars: one against the Moirae, and the other against the killer of gods. She didn’t know which she was less likely to win.

“How do I know you’re true to your word?” Athena asked.

“You don’t. But I’m running out of sisters to lie to.”

“That’s not enough assurance.”

“Then how about an act of good faith?” Ares moved, and she heard an odd sound, something uncorked or uncapped. He stayed low, and slow, and she tightened all over. But she let him press the leather skin to Odysseus’ lips, and listened to the liquid pour out. The scent of it wafted up in a cloud. It smelled like fruit juice tainted with lead.

“Say his name,” Ares said. “Wake him up.”

It couldn’t be that easy. It had to be a trick. She’d say his name and Ares would laugh. His wolves would howl her gullibility all the way up to Olympus.

“Odysseus?” Athena bit down hard on her lip and tasted blood. “Can you hear me?”

“Yes,” Odysseus said, and she struggled to keep herself from crying out and crushing him to her. “And it’s just the voice I wanted to hear.”

“What was that?” Athena asked Ares. “What was that you gave him?” She tilted Odysseus’ head up and he winced.

“Whatever it was, it tastes like balls.”

“Just water.” Ares shrugged. “Of course, waters from the rivers and streams on the eastern side of Olympus can do … lots of incredible shit for wounded mortals.” He stood and stepped away. The light was coming back. Athena looked down at Odysseus.

“That smile,” Odysseus said. “Never seen it on your face before.”

She laughed and pressed her hand against the wound in his chest. It bled only slightly.

“I hate you,” she said.

He grasped her hand and held it, made to kiss it but recoiled at the sight of her mangled nails and knuckles.

“What the hell have you been up to?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She looked at Ares. “Thank you.”

“I had to go far enough to get it,” Ares said. “Sneaking back onto that mountain. It felt like robbing my own house. You should have thought of that yourself, Athena. Instead of getting stuck in Uncle Hades’ web.”

“There wasn’t time,” Athena said. “He’d have died before I got him there.”

Ares snorted again. In truth, the waters of Olympus hadn’t even crossed her mind. Not until the moment Ares mentioned them. When the sword went through Odysseus’ chest, it was as if Athena had disappeared.