Mortal Gods (The Goddess War) by Kendare Blake

Author:Kendare Blake [Blake, Kendare]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781466812222
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates
Published: 2014-10-14T00:00:00+00:00

14

WEAPONS

Odysseus checked Achilles over as if he were assessing a horse. He lifted the boy’s arms and moved his chin back and forth. Another minute, and he’d open his mouth and look at his teeth.

“I don’t believe it,” Odysseus muttered. “You bloody can’t be killed. Unless”—he cocked his head—“what about your heel? Did your mum really dip you headfirst in the Styx and miss that part? If I cut it, would you die?”

Achilles smiled. “The legend’s not that literal. Not quite.”

“So you can be killed,” Athena said. “You’re not immortal.”

“The whole world knows my name,” he said, and shrugged. “If I’m not immortal, I’m damn close.”

“What if I pulled you apart?” she asked.

“What if you could?” He nodded toward her ruined shoulder and foot, then turned back to Odysseus. “What’re you doing here, anyway? Why’s she all … after my hide?”

“Haven’t you heard? You’re the weapon of the gods. Or at least, you’re one of them.” Athena waited while Odysseus filled him in.

“Mm,” Achilles said. “Well, since killing me is out, why don’t I come back with you? Then you’d have both weapons instead of one.” He cocked his eyebrow at Athena. “Might’ve saved us all a broken neck if you’d just asked that in the first place.”

Athena glowered. Since killing him was out. What a thing to assume. But she was in no condition to try again. And the idea of Achilles dying and popping up over and over like some macabre prairie dog was just too awful.

Her eyes took in his wild blond hair and gray-blue t-shirt. He was built sort of like Henry, with broad, muscular shoulders and fast, narrow hips. But he was taller. And much more lethal.

“I would have been content to stay on the mountain,” said Achilles. “But you found me. And this is what I was made for. So make your choice, goddess. The side who has me lives forever.”

“He’ll be a help, I promise,” said Odysseus.

Athena sighed. “Shit.” Was he going to promise to feed and walk him next? “Fine. Never let it be said I’m not flexible.” He would come back to Kincade. And they could use Hera’s own weapon to cut her throat.

* * *

“Do you know how much alcohol it takes to get a god good and drunk?” Hermes swallowed beer from a red plastic cup. “Not as much as you’d think.”

But still, a lot. It was his twentieth cup.

“I’m out,” he said, and eyeballed the plastic bottom.

“Take mine.” Cassandra handed him her cup. The mortals, it seemed, didn’t feel like drinking. Not even amidst the whoops and laughter of what seemed to be half the school. An impromptu party jammed the bonfires at Abbott Park to near capacity, celebrating the suddenly rising temperatures. The mercury had risen above sixty that day, and the forecast said it would go as high as seventy for the remainder of the week. A strawberry spring. One little glimpse of paradise before winter’s fist closed back up.

The air smelled of warming dirt, wet leaves, and smoke.

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