But Andie was different. And thanks to a very distracted set of parents, who would never in a million years think anything was going on in his room besides intense hockey debate, they had ample opportunity to enjoy just how different it was.

“Cassandra’s going to flip when she gets home,” said Andie.

“Good.” He ran his fingers underneath her shirt, up and down the bare skin of her back. He hoped Cassandra did freak out. It would serve her right. But he didn’t think she would. He didn’t want to say so to Andie, but he was beginning to think that the sister who came back wouldn’t be the same person as the one who left. That whatever Cassandra was doing out there, whatever kept her from coming home, it couldn’t be good.

Maybe we should be glad she’s gone.

Maybe she would stay gone, and draw the gods away like insects after a blinking light. The Fates could drag Achilles in her direction, and make him forget all about their old feud.

“Hey.” Andie poked him in the chest. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I’m good. Better than good.”

“Good.” Andie nipped his ear, and his pocket buzzed.

“Damn.” He pulled the phone out. “It’s Hermes.”

Hermes didn’t wait for a hello before speaking.

“Henry, excellent. I’m in your driveway. We’ve got to go to Buffalo. I found Hephaestus. I’m going to come in and tell your parents I have an appointment with a specialist and you need to drive me. Go with it.” He hung up without waiting for a goodbye. Henry sighed.

“What is it?”

“Guess we’re going to Buffalo.”

*   *   *

“Your parents look good,” Hermes lied as Henry backed the Mustang out of the driveway. He waved to Maureen in the kitchen and she raised her hand without smiling. Both she and Tom were like ghosts, thin and gray and sullen. They said all the right things, asked about his health, about the specialist and what he hoped to learn there. Asked if he was all right in the house by himself. But the words had nothing behind them. They were just preprogrammed sounds.

“They do,” Henry lied back. “So, what are we going to Buffalo for? What’s going on with Hephaestus?”

“He wants to meet you. Both of you. It was lucky that Andie was at the house. Saves us a stop at her place.” Behind the steering wheel, Henry hid a smile. In the backseat, Andie didn’t bother to hide hers.

“Oh.” Hermes smirked. “Finally.”

“Why does he want to meet us?” Andie asked.

“To make sure you’re worthy of a new shield.”

*   *   *

They parked the Mustang on the street in front of Hephaestus’ massive, museumlike house. When they got out, neither Henry nor Andie could take their eyes off it.

“Millionaire industrialist, right?” Hermes smiled.

“No kidding.” Henry glanced down at his sweatshirt. “Maybe we should have dressed better for this.”

“In what?” Andie walked around to the driver’s side. “Leather armor and one of those helmets with the tufts on them?” She snorted.

Hermes watched her carefully. She was uneasy. She hadn’t liked it when she asked how Hephaestus was going to determine their worthiness and he hadn’t had an answer. And she hated it whenever anyone implied she had something to prove.

But you do. We all do.

Hermes made a fist and felt his bones strain together under the skin. Practically no meat remained in his hands. He told himself it was because he’d been on the move, and hadn’t been able to eat the twenty thousand calories he could at home. But that wasn’t true.

I ate all those chickens. All that caviar and fast food.

When he took off his shirt his heartbeat was visible through his chest. If he was a mortal, he’d be dead already. But he was a god. So he had a few more weeks.

The hell with that. I haven’t come so far to leave them unprotected. I haven’t come so far to never see my sister again.

He would live until Athena returned. And Andie and Henry could still use him. What he began to lack in strength, he still made up for in speed.

“Hermes?” Andie asked. “Are you okay?”

He moved away before she could put a hand on his bony shoulder.

“Fine. Now come on. I want to introduce you to my old friend.”

*   *   *

Hephaestus welcomed them himself. No servants. No pretty blond maid. And no leg braces, that Hermes could see. He greeted them in a motorized chair, a blanket over his lap.