He clenched his teeth and pushed hard against the weight on his shoulders.

(STAY DOWN.)

“No.” It might have been easier if he still had muscle in his legs, but cartilage and bone would have to do. He pushed and kept pushing, and the longer he did, the lighter he felt. He rose, hunched over, and inched his feet forward.

“Go, Henry!” he shouted. “Climb!” The elation at getting his feet under him was so great that he laughed, even though just inching forward felt like walking on Jupiter. The Moirae were less, but they were still the Moirae. Atropos still held him down.

But not on his knees.

“Not like that, Achilles!” Hephaestus called up toward the third level. “You’ll never get to it that way. You have to go through the house!”

Hermes looked up and saw Achilles dart through the doors on the third floor.

“Hephaestus, you shit!” he shouted, and glared at his friend. Hephaestus said nothing, but winked slowly with his right eye. A real wink. Impossible to miss.

*   *   *

Henry didn’t look down. Even when he heard Achilles slamming his way through the opposite side of the house. Any minute he’d burst through the door on the fourth floor and start climbing for the shield. Henry needed to have it in his hands by then.

Climbing the girders wasn’t that difficult. His balance was good, and better on adrenaline. But it wasn’t fast. The shield was still twenty feet and nine girders away. He braced in the center of a steel X and jumped across to an inverted T. His arms wrapped around the base. Just once, he allowed himself a glance to the ground and was rewarded by seeing it spin. Andie was in his ear, shouting encouragement. Hermes, too. They were still alive. He still had time.

Across the house, Achilles bellowed. Something shattered that sounded like pottery, or plates. He was lost. His footsteps sounded across the third floor, back and forth and back again.

Guess he didn’t pay attention on the tour. Or maybe he didn’t get one.

Maybe Hephaestus hadn’t betrayed them after all. Henry crawled and climbed across three more girders. Then another. One foot, and one grip at a time. Until his hand closed on the edge of the shield.

*   *   *

The Moirae advanced, ready to put Hermes on his knees for good. He edged his feet out to a wider stance.

Fine. Let them come. Give Andie and Henry a chance to get out with the shield.

Up close, they were massive. A mountain blotting out the sun. Especially since he still stood hunched. Hermes made himself study every inch. They would know he wasn’t afraid. Beneath Clotho’s dangling arm, and between waves of wild red hair, he could see Hephaestus, and smiled.

Hephaestus smiled back. He threw off his blanket and rose from his chair. The braces on his legs were smaller than the ones he had worn during Hermes’ first visit, and better balanced. He could walk without arm supports. He could run, and leap, straight onto the backs of the Moirae.

“Hephaestus!”

“I’ll hold them as long as I can! Get them out! Go where they won’t follow!” He gripped Atropos’ black hair with his freshly repaired hand. How kind of her to fix it for him.

“Hermes!” He looked up and saw Henry waving the shield. “Catch!”

The shield fell, a heavy, shining circle, and Hermes caught it and swept it up to his chest. With it before him, the influence of the Moirae was weaker. He could stand straight and even advance. He could bash Atropos in the face.

The Moirae stumbled back, facing an onslaught from Hephaestus behind and an armed Hermes in the front.

“It’s a great shield, friend,” Hermes said, and bashed her again.

“Of course it is.” Hephaestus used his good hand to punch Clotho in the temple. He shouldn’t have let go of Atropos. She reached back and dragged his legs over her shoulder. The sound of his joints stretching and popping was almost as terrible as his scream.

“Hephaestus!”

“Henry!” Andie shouted. “Over the rail! Dangle and drop! I’ll get the ladder to you!”

Henry had climbed down from the girders. He threw his legs over the fourth-floor railing and dropped down to hang before letting go and sliding across the smooth wall to the third floor. It was a long drop; he shouted when he hit. But when Andie rolled the ladder to him he was on it, climbing and sliding the rest of the way down.

“Hermes, come on!” They ran toward the way they’d come in.

“No! Not to the car!” Not to Kincade, where they were still defenseless. He looked at the dark rectangle of stairs, cut into the marble floor. “There! Go!”