Ungodly

by Kendare Blake

  Aidan. Apollo. He couldn’t undo the past, but he’d tried to make up for it.

  “I guess I do,” Cassandra replied. “Why?”

  “I don’t know,” Thanatos said. “I find that I’m jealous. Maybe it’s leftovers from Calypso’s spell.”

  He stood before her, a god dressed like a boy. She saw through it now. If Aidan were alive, and came knocking on her door, she’d know him for what he was in an instant.

  “If I let you kiss me,” she said, “would you try to kill me?”

  “No,” he said, and pushed his fingers into her hair. “If I kissed you now, I wouldn’t. But I would someday.”

  Someday. But they would never have a “someday.” Their time would end when she did.

  She pressed her hands to his chest.

  Birds chirped loud in her ears. A hundred. A thousand. Too many to populate the elm trees on the sides of the road. It was the vision.

  “Birds,” she said, and pushed away from Thanatos. “What are you trying to tell me? That you’re staying in an aviary?” But the chirping wasn’t birds. The wings coming toward her face flapped too fast, and dipped up and down. Birds didn’t have fur, or pinched little rat faces.

  Bats. They screeched their way past calcite formations and subterranean waterfalls. Cassandra felt the breeze from their wings, felt the warm skin of them pass against her cheeks. If any of their claws caught in her hair, she was going to scream, vision or not.

  “What is it?” Thanatos asked.

  “Cave system. Adirondacks. There’s a newly opened entrance.” She could see them, too. The Moirae. Or more accurately, she could feel them, beating like a heart in the center.

  28

  WALKING STRAIGHT INTO AN AXE

  “How’s Hermes?” Odysseus asked. He’d come out on the widow’s walk to stand with Athena in the dark.

  “Sleeping. Ares is with him now.”

  Odysseus squeezed the wood railing and it groaned. It was a wonder the balcony still stood, after all her pacing and pushing.

  “How much longer does he have?” he asked, and her throat tightened.

  “Not long.” Hermes’ breathing had been strained for the last few hours, and the fever was back. He was still conscious, but so weak he could hardly keep his eyes open.

  “I’m sorry,” Odysseus said. “I know it’s hard.”

  “It shouldn’t be,” she said bitterly.

  “Letting go of anyone is hard.”

  “No, I mean it shouldn’t be,” she said. “Aidan fell in battle. That was bad enough. But Hermes is just lying there. Wasting away while I stand here with my hands tied, waiting to serve the thing that’s killing him.” Her fingers gripped the wood and rattled it. “Why haven’t they told us where to go yet? Why couldn’t they have shown up a day earlier? And why do I wish he was already gone, so I wouldn’t have to do this knowing that my brother is dead and that wherever I am, I wasn’t with him when it happened.”

  “However he’d die … it wouldn’t make it easier.”

  “Stop saying stupid things!” she shouted.

  “Why are you yelling at me?” he shouted back.

  “Because they’ve already won. Don’t you get it? This isn’t a battle. They cost everyone everything. And they still win.” Athena twisted the railing in her hands and splintered it, wrenching the whole thing loose. It hit the walkway below and cracked. She stared down at it. In the dark, the wood looked like bones.

  I wish they were mine. I wish they were mine and Cassandra’s both, and we’d leave them with nothing.

  “You’re not the only one losing everything,” Odysseus said angrily. “In fact, I’d say you got the best end of it. You get to sew yourself up with Clotho and Lachesis and come out a butterfly on the other side. A shiny new Atropos in an Athena skin. You won’t remember Hermes. Or me. Or if you do, you won’t care.”

  “You’d rather I let Cassandra become the Fate of death?”

  “I’d rather you thought of something else!” he shouted. “You’re afraid. I get it. You messed up on Olympus and you don’t think you have the right to lead them anymore, but you’re wrong, Athena. This isn’t noble. This is giving up.”

  He turned and struck the side of the house hard enough to rattle it.

  “Just like you and me,” he said. “That was giving up, too.”

  “Odysseus—”

  “You never would have done it, if you thought you were going to survive. For you, telling me you love me is the same as saying goodbye.”

  Athena stepped away from the edge. She regretted tearing the railing down; her hands itched for something to lean on.

  “I do love you, Odysseus.”

  “I know,” he said. “But I thought that you and I were real. Not just a dream that I was having.”

  * * *

  Ares knocked on her door sometime later.

  “Is it Hermes?” she asked.

  “No. It’s Cassandra. She’s here. She’s had the vision.”

  “But is Hermes?”

  “Still sleeping.”

  They went downstairs to find Cassandra, Henry, her parents, and even their dog standing in the living room.

  “Is Andie on her way?” Athena asked.

  “I sent Thanatos to go get her.” Cassandra motioned for her parents to sit, and they did, clutching each other at the elbow, eyes big and round as wall clocks. Athena crossed and uncrossed her arms. The notion that she should offer Cassandra’s parents something to drink popped into her head. Ridiculous.

  Cassandra began, recounting what little there was. Headlights flashed through the window and signaled Andie’s arrival just as she was wrapping up.

  Athena bit the inside of her cheek, her teeth worrying at the quill of a feather. Twisting it back and forth sent shock waves of pain through her gums and down her neck. No matter. The feathers would be gone forever in a few hours.

  “What’s going on?” Andie asked as she came in. When no one replied, she took her place behind the sofa.

  “No one has to go who doesn’t want to,” Cassandra said. “Only me and Athena.”

  “You can’t take Atropos alone,” Ares said, though he sounded impressed that she wanted to try.

  “And you can’t face Achilles,” said Henry. “Only I can do that.”

  “Only Hector can do that,” Odysseus corrected. “And you’re not him. Unless…?”

  “No,” Andie shouted.

  The room dissolved to bickering, until Cassandra shouted over the top.

  “Athena,” she said. “What do you think we should do?”

  Athena blinked. “I don’t know.”

  “Yes, you do,” said Odysseus.

  Athena studied them. They were all staring at her. Even Cassandra’s parents. Even Ares. Her throat went dry.

  Andie gave her a nod.

  “We were all there,” Andie said. “On Olympus. And we’re still asking, anyway. We still trust you.”

  Something tightened Athena’s chest. Gratitude. Sentimentality. She looked at Odysseus, who seemed proud, and finally at Cassandra.

  “I never trusted you,” Cassandra said. “But I’m still asking.”

  Athena held her breath. Odysseus was right. She was afraid.

  “Look,” Cassandra said. “We’ve all decided to go anyway.”

  Athena dug her fingernails deep into her palms.

  Caves. The Moirae burrowed into the ground like moles, and wanted them to stick their hands in blindly after. No thanks.

  “I don’t think we should go to the caves,” Athena said. “No holes or wells or mazes. We ought to take the high ground, with open space and cover.”

  “I didn’t think they were giving us a choice about location,” Cassandra said.

  “I didn’t, either. But aren’t you tired of following other people’s plans?”

  From behind the couch, Andie smiled. “I’ll get food, water, and supplies,” she said. “The first-aid packs from the basement.” She slapped Henry on the arm. “Let’s go
get your shield.”

  “What are you doing?” Odysseus asked Athena from across the room of mobilizing bodies.

  Athena wasn’t quite sure. But whatever they did, they would do it on their own terms.

  * * *

  “I need to ask you to do something for me,” Athena said. She sat before Cassandra’s parents, her weight making the coffee table creak.

  “You mean we’re not coming?” Tom asked. “It feels like we should. I want to go.”

  Athena nodded. He did want to go. To be a dad and protect his kids. But his eyes were wide and bewildered. He wouldn’t know what to do if she agreed.

  “I know you want to. But I was hoping you would do something for me here.”

  “What is it?” Maureen asked.

  “Hermes is upstairs in his room. We can’t move him. And we can’t wait for him to…” She paused and let the tightness in her throat pass. “He’s not going to last much longer. And I don’t want him to be alone.”

  They looked at Cassandra, and their eyes went unfocused as they thought of Henry. Then they nodded.

  “When will you be back?” Maureen asked.

  “Your kids will be back. Soon.” She touched them fondly on the knee and on the shoulder. “I have to go say goodbye to my brother.”

  * * *

  Hermes lay still. He was so thin, he barely made a shape underneath the blankets.

  Athena sat on the edge of the bed and held his hand, careful not to disturb him even though he wouldn’t wake up. She’d said his name three times to no response. She should have been happy about that, that he was unconscious and not in pain. But she would have given anything for one more word. One more smile. All this sleep and slowness didn’t suit him.

  Ares sat in a chair on the opposite side. When she’d come in, he’d made to leave her alone, but she’d told him to stay. Hermes wasn’t awake. She didn’t need to be alone with him, and truly, having another god in the room felt like comfort, even if it was Ares.

  “Knock knock.” Andie poked her head in. Henry and Odysseus stood behind her. “Can we come in to say goodbye?”

  Athena nodded, and stepped back to give them room. She didn’t listen to what they said. She just saw them laugh, and wipe tears, and touch Hermes’ shoulder. Andie kissed his cheek.

  If he were awake, he’d tell me to keep them safe.

  “Cars are packed. Ready to go,” Odysseus said.

  “We’ll be down. Soon.” She leaned down over Hermes as they filed out of the room, and kissed his forehead. It felt strange. She thought there’d be more to say. But Hermes knew everything he ever would. And the cars waited downstairs.

  Ares stood.

  “I’m not going with you,” he said. He hung his head a second and gestured weakly to his stomach. “He cut me up worse than I thought. It isn’t healing.”

  “Let me see.” Athena put her hands out, but he caught them.

  “The day I get examined by you,” he said, and smiled. He looked down at Hermes. “I’m going to stay with him. Make sure they don’t check here first and do something you wouldn’t want them to do.”

  “I thought you’d want the blood,” Athena said.

  “Make no mistake, I want the blood,” said Ares. “But leaving him alone doesn’t seem right. And I didn’t catch a knife in the gut saving those two downstairs,” he nodded to the door and down to Cassandra’s parents, “just to let them get skinned two days later.”

  So much for his bitter words about playing the hero.

  “After he’s gone, I’ll come and find you,” he said. “I’ll stash the parents and pick up your trail.”

  “We’re headed up the southern face of Mount Emmons. I’ll look for you.”

  “If something goes wrong,” he said. “If Atropos can’t be stopped. What do you want me to do?”

  She looked at Hermes on the bed, so pale he’d turned gray. They’d come so far. She’d led them here.

  “I’m not your general, Ares. I never have been. But if I were you…” She took a slow breath. “I’d spring Aphrodite from the underworld and spend as much time with her as I could. Someplace warm. I’d run and I wouldn’t look back.”

  They stood beside Hermes’ bed together for a long time. Athena had been unfair to Ares, and he to her, for as long as she could remember, but it didn’t matter. Ares would look after their brother, and Athena would trade herself so Ares could heal.

  “So long, Ares,” she said, and he flinched when she touched his shoulder, like she might hit him. It made her smile. They would never be friends. But they were family.

  * * *

  Cassandra watched Athena’s house recede as Thanatos backed out of the driveway. Inside, a god she’d hated from the moment she laid eyes on him sat beside Hermes’ bed, and protected her parents.

  “Are you sure we can trust him?” she asked, and in her side mirror, she saw Athena glance up to the house.

  “You killed his mother and he saved yours,” she replied. “That earns him at least a little slack, don’t you think?”

  Cassandra clenched her teeth. But it wasn’t Ares who weighed on her mind. The instinct to go where her vision indicated was so strong it pulled. Strings tightening around her heart.

  29

  NO HIGHER GROUND

  Their caravan drove northeast, racing the dawn for higher ground. Where Athena intended to take them, there were no good trails. No cleared paths at all, save the ones made by deer. But their legs were fresh, and their fear would keep them sharp. For a little while at least.

  Somewhere ahead, Mount Emmons waited in the dark, one of the high peaks of the Adirondacks. They’d push their way up and wait for Atropos and Achilles to come up behind. With luck, they’d hold the high ground, and maybe find cover to dig into.

  “What if they don’t come?” Cassandra asked. “What if by not going where we’re told, we’re spoiling Clotho and Lachesis’ plans?”

  “What if,” Athena said. Her teeth caught the edge of an emerging feather and she winced, but she felt strangely elated. “I think it was when we deviated,” she continued after a moment. “I think that’s when it changed.”

  “What are you talking about?” Cassandra asked.

  “Fate isn’t fate anymore. The Moirae grow weak. We turn away from their plans, and they don’t turn us back.”

  “That’s all in your head.”

  “No,” Thanatos said from the driver’s seat. “I feel it, too.”

  Cassandra turned. Her eyes shone in the dark like marbles. “You both know how this is going to end.”

  Athena smiled.

  “I don’t.”

  * * *

  Henry followed Athena’s car down back roads that turned from blacktop to dirt, and finally to not much more than twin tracks. He didn’t know how she knew where they were going. Maybe the gods’ innate sense of direction. Maybe Athena had used part of her long, immortal life to commit every inch of the globe to memory. However they did it, Henry kept the Mustang close to the rental’s taillights.

  Andie sat beside him, still not speaking much. She hadn’t said she’d forgiven him for trying to become Hector. He wasn’t quite sure if he forgave her for not understanding why he should have. But there’d been a moment, at Hermes’ bedside, when she let him put his arm around her.

  Brake lights lit up ahead, and Thanatos turned off the road completely. The cars bumped and lurched through fields of greening grass and mud. Trees popped up in the Mustang’s headlights, and he couldn’t see the sky ahead anymore in the face of the mountain. Just when he thought they couldn’t go any farther, Thanatos’ brake lights lit up and stayed lit.

  Henry threw the Mustang into park. The ground felt too soft even behind the wheel. If they survived the fight, they might return to find the cars sunk in up to the tire rims.

  Andie opened her door.

  “Hey,” he said, and popped the trunk. “Are you going to stay mad at me the whole time?”

  She turned and kissed him.

/>   “I’m not mad at you. Just nervous. It’s not every day I have to fight an insane hero of legend.”

  She got out and walked around to the trunk. Henry followed.

  “What do you mean you’re going to fight?” he asked. “I’m the one who has to do it.”

  “Who has to kill him. Right. But no one ever said you had to do it alone.” Her eyes narrowed at him in the light from the trunk, and Henry wasn’t about to tell her no.

  Odysseus walked out of the dark and reached in for a bag of supplies.

  “Did you tell him?” Odysseus asked Andie.

  “Why else would he have that look on his face?”

  Odysseus smiled. “Come on, Henry. You didn’t expect us to just sit up on the wall, did you? He put a sword through my chest. That needs answering.”

  “And with us along,” Andie said, “you might not die.”

  * * *

  Cassandra looked up toward the summit of the mountain. The cave where the Moirae lay was hours away. The pull of it made her chest ache, and the dark part of her mind throbbed like a burn.

  “Are you all right?” Thanatos put his hand on the back of her neck and it felt like a bucket of ice water.

  “I’m just hoping we don’t break our legs walking up a mountain in the dark.”

  “It won’t be dark for much longer.”

  Her eyes strained. After a minute it seemed that the sky grew lighter.

  We’re wasting so much time. Clotho and Lachesis need us. Now.

  Her brain screamed it. But her gut told her to take Athena’s advice. To do something contrary. Something outside the plan. Even if it was only defiance for defiance’s sake.

  “I’ll take point with Henry and Andie,” Odysseus said.

  They’d assembled and armed themselves, loaded down with backpacks of supplies and first aid, swords and spears drawn or strapped to their backs. The Shield of Achilles rested against Henry’s leg and gleamed in the headlights.

  “Cassandra and I will sweep behind.” Athena looked at Thanatos. “Are you fighting?”

  “I don’t know,” he said, and glanced at Cassandra. “I don’t think it’s my fight. But I will if—”

  “Just don’t get in the way,” Cassandra said. She reached into the car and killed the headlights. A moment later, flashlights clicked on, and they started up the mountain.