“He died for you. Because of you. He never would have been there. Never would have fought. And one mortal girl lives, while a god lies dead.”

Cassandra’s vision swam and ran hot. Everything blurred around the edges, whether from tears or rage she couldn’t tell.

“Cassandra, don’t listen.” That was Thanatos’ voice. Far away and unimportant.

“He died a mortal’s death. Demeaned on the side of a road.” Alecto burrowed into Cassandra’s mind again and pulled the memory out by the root. “A branch shoved through his chest. Sputtering about love on a cloudy day.”

“Shut up!”

“You made him nothing. Made him fallible.”

“I didn’t ask for any of that!”

“But it’s your fault. He died for you. Because of you.”

“I never asked him to,” Cassandra screamed. “He never listened to anything I wanted. He was a god! A stupid, stupid god!” Fire licked up and down her arms. Pure, clean hate. “He didn’t die for me. To save me. He died to clear his own conscience, and he got what he deserved!” Tears rolled down her cheek. “For what he did. For what they all did.”

“Cassandra,” Calypso said, her soothing voice, like music, pale as an echo. Everything spun and burned before Cassandra’s eyes, ready to explode. To send glass and disease flying.

“And now Athena returns,” Alecto whispered. “Alive and well. With Aphrodite and Ares by her side. Friends. Allies. Your Aidan forgotten.”

“Athena?” Calypso asked. “Alive? But how?” She stepped closer to Alecto, looking for a miracle, but Cassandra couldn’t see her. Her world had turned red. Athena was with Aphrodite. She was with Ares.

I always knew it. I always knew she’d go to them.

Cassandra’s palms bled where her nails dug in.

“Cassandra, we have to go! We have to see.” Calypso was in her ear, imploring and so damn hopeful. “We have to—”

“You want to help them!” Cassandra whirled and grabbed Calypso by the shoulders. Thanatos screamed for her to stop, but it was too late. Angry as she was, it only took a touch.

And Alecto laughed, and disappeared.

PART II

TWO WARS

17

STAIRS UP, ALL TOGETHER NOW

Hermes led Andie and Henry deeper and deeper into the belly of Hephaestus’ house. The only sounds were their footsteps and rapidly huffing breath. He held the Shield of Achilles ahead of them at chest level. What must they look like? What would Hades think when they burst into the underworld, a scrappy army of three?

Doesn’t matter. Just get them down. He looked back. And be ready to catch them if they stumble.

They had run over two hundred stairs and still saw no sign of the bottom. If they took a fall, it wouldn’t be pretty.

“Slower,” he said. “We’ve gone far enough now. We can take it easy.” He thought of his friend above, Hephaestus in the grip of the Moirae. But when Hephaestus had told them to go, he’d meant it, knowing what it would cost.

“How much farther?” Andie asked.

“Don’t know.” He cupped his hands and hooted down into the dark, heard it echo five times before going out of earshot. “Long way.”

Andie puffed, hands on her knees. “Guess I shouldn’t have stopped going to hockey practice.”

“It doesn’t help that much, actually,” Henry puffed beside her. “Can I see it?”

It took Hermes a minute to realize he meant the shield.

“Of course.” He handed it over. “You won it. It’s yours.”

His. But not his. He saw it in Henry’s eyes the moment he held it, studying the intricate carvings. It took Henry two arms to keep it aloft. Achilles could have flung it like a discus.

“Andie,” Henry said. “Do you want to see it?”

“No.” She turned her shoulder. “I don’t care.”

Henry frowned, and Hermes took the shield back. Of course she didn’t want to see it. It wasn’t hers. Her lot was to be the war wife, all over again.

But it might turn out different, this time.

“Did you hear that?” Henry asked.

“Hear what?” Andie asked.

“It sounded like someone shouting, from down there.” He pointed down the stairs.

Hermes stilled, and listened.

“Did it sound like torture?” He asked. “Maybe we’re closer than I thought, and coming in on the Tartarus side.”

They started forward again, this time easy and ambling. Apprehension grew in Hermes’ chest with every step. They weren’t much of a match for anything that might crawl up to the gates. The sound of tramping feet reached them and Hermes wished for more light, or a few stretched-out shadows to serve as warning. Judging by the noise, they were about to be overtaken by a herd of Cape buffalo.