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  And he looked back into hers. Nothing happened. The shock extinguished her like a bucket of water. For a second she squeezed his wrist harder; tried to will it to break. But it held.

  Thanatos shrugged.

  “Don’t feel bad,” he said, rolling his sleeve back down. “It was impossible. You can’t kill Death. Though I’ll admit, I was curious. And this begs the question of what you’re going to do with Atropos.…”

  He turned away, and Cassandra backed up quickly. Her heels skidded until she ran into the sofa and stumbled to a sit. She couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t even make him sweat, while he could kill anything with a kiss. With a thought. And she was alone with him in his house.

  “Calypso!”

  “Don’t!” Thanatos held up his hands. “Everything’s fine. I don’t want to hurt you, Cassandra. I never wanted to hurt you. But don’t make Calypso come running. I suspect she’s been skinny-dipping this whole time.” He made a face, reconsidering. “On second thought, do call her.”

  “Shut up,” Cassandra said. “If you don’t want to hurt me, then what do you want?”

  “It’s not what I want,” he said softly. “It’s what I’m going to do.” He picked up his brandy and downed it in one gulp. “You’re going after Hades, and I’m going with you.”

  5

  HELLO DESERT, MY OLD FRIEND

  Hermes packed for hot and cold. Temps in the desert fluctuated wildly between night and day. There was a big bottle of sunscreen on the table, too, and aloe vera gel for Andie’s inevitable sunburn. They could buy a case of water when they got there.

  Packing was a lot harder with a mortal tagging along. If it were just him, he’d fill two canteens and throw two T-shirts into a bag before stuffing the rest full with food. But Andie refused to be left behind. And honestly, he was glad for the company.

  Maybe leathery old Demeter will like her better than she likes me. Maybe we’ll get real answers out of her this time.

  He snorted. Not likely. But he’d weed through a Da Vinci Code’s worth of her ciphers and riddles if it meant finding out what happened to his sister and Cassandra.

  Athena. How pissed she would be if she knew he wasn’t hitchhiking cross-country. How she would seethe over their first-class plane tickets to Utah. He smiled.

  “Hey.” Andie came through the front door without knocking, her backpack over her shoulder.

  “You made it.”

  “Of course I made it.”

  She sounded indignant, but Hermes knew it must’ve taken a presentation with pie charts and begging for her mother to let her go. Henry and Cassandra’s parents weren’t the only ones holding on tighter in the wake of Cassandra’s disappearance.

  “My mom trusts me to a fault,” Andie said. “I’ve never messed up, and I tell her everything.” She tilted her head. “Or at least everything that wouldn’t blow her mind. Besides, with just the two of us around, she has to trust me. Our lives wouldn’t work otherwise.”

  “And you don’t feel the least bit guilty lying?”

  “I don’t have to, as long as you get me home safe.” Her hands moved methodically over their supplies, tucking the sunscreen and aloe into Hermes’ suitcase.

  “Still no word from Henry?”

  She shook her head.

  “He doesn’t think he should come,” she said. “And maybe he’s right. I don’t think his parents would let him come anyway.”

  Henry came through the door carrying a bag.

  “What?” he asked as they stared at him in surprise.

  “How … how did you get them to let you?” Andie asked.

  “I told them the truth. That we had a chance to find Cassandra. That Hermes thought he knew where Athena might hole up.” He let out a stressed breath. “The hardest part was convincing them it would be a bad idea for them to come along.” His big, dark eyes were steely and still. “I hate seeing them like this, almost as much as I’m worried about Cassandra. This has to work.”

  * * *

  They drove for as long as they dared. It would’ve been nice to drive straight to the eye, but they were just as likely to run over it, and besides, Hermes doubted that Demeter would take kindly to tire marks on her hide. So they ditched the rented SUV and shouldered their packs, ready to walk until they hit Demeter’s skin, stretched across the desert.

  “You sure you remember the way?” Andie asked.

  Hermes nodded. He remembered the way. Just not exactly how far they’d had to go to get there. And he didn’t have the option of a handy little owl guide if things went awry.

  I really hope I haven’t dragged them both out here to dehydrate.

  “What if she moved?” Henry looked out across the landscape and Hermes followed his eyes. It was hot. Cacti in the distance seemed to waver, covered in haze.

  “Not likely. She seemed pretty dug in the last time we were here.” A disturbing image reared its head: Demeter shaking loose and scuttling across the hard-packed dirt like a manta ray at the bottom of the sea. “Besides, I think she wants us to find her. Why else would she make contact?”

  “Maybe she was just sympathizing,” Henry said. “Trying to be a good aunt. Maybe she doesn’t really know anything, and they’re dead.”

  Hermes’ shoulders slumped. “You know, you’re a real ball of sunshine sometimes, Henry.”

  “Don’t start bickering,” Andie said. “You’re both sort of annoying me already.”

  Henry shook his head and they started off. It wasn’t long before he overtook them both with long strides.

  “Don’t mind him,” she muttered to Hermes. “He’s just practical. He doesn’t want us to get our hopes up.”

  “I don’t know why,” Hermes muttered back, “when hope’s all we’ve got.”

  The walk was long, and hot. All three were soaked with sweat in under an hour. A light wind kicked up now and then, just to pepper them with dirt and dust. Andie and Henry’s black hair was dull with it. Talk died off except to ask for water. No one asked to stop for a break. Soon enough the sun tipped behind the horizon, and the desert began to grow cold.

  “Hold up.” Andie stripped out of her backpack and dug inside it, then pulled out a hooded sweatshirt.

  “Good idea,” Henry agreed.

  “I don’t even want to put this on my dirty, sweaty arms,” Andie grumbled. “But it’s so cold.”

  It was cold. And to Hermes it felt unseasonably so, after having a sheen of sweat on his skin all afternoon. Andie and Henry shivered, though they tried to hide it. It wouldn’t be much longer before they’d have to stop, and he’d have to track down fuel for a fire.

  Not like when Athena and I were here. Back to back through the night. Two godly Popsicles.

  “Hey!”

  Hermes jumped up. Henry had shouted so abruptly his voice squeaked.

  “I think…” He scuffed his sole gently against the ground. “Is this her?”

  Hermes zipped to where Henry stood and brushed sand and small stones away from the leather that disappeared into the dirt. His smile spread ear to ear, and he bent his head to the earth and kissed her.

  “Ew.” Andie toed Demeter gently. “I mean, you said what she would be like, but … ew.”

  “It’s like someone stretched an elephant rug out over the ground,” said Henry.

  Andie reached down and touched the skin. “More like … E.T. Like someone made a giant rug out of a bunch of E.T.s. Yuck. E.T. was so gross. I don’t know why people liked that movie.”

  “Because it’s a classic, that’s why.” Hermes swatted her hand away. “And watch what you say. If you think she can’t hear you, you’re wrong. And if you think she can’t lift up out of the sand and slap you to a pancake, you’re wrong about that, too.”

  Hermes led the way across the skin, and had to focus hard to keep his legs moving at a pace Andie and Henry could manage. They were so close. Close to finding answers, and then to finding his sister. He was going to strangle Athena when he found her. And he was going to
hug her tight. He was going to strangle-hug her.

  The nerve of you, jumping off that mountain, leaving me there between the Fates and Ares. I’d kill you if I wasn’t so glad you haven’t killed yourself.

  “Hermes?”

  “What?” He heard Andie’s breath behind him, but got no reply. When he turned, they both stumbled forward, eyes wide. “What’s the matter with—” He stopped, and felt like an idiot. They’d lost the light. He might be able to see and navigate by the quarter moon, but to Andie and Henry it was pitch black. He smiled at them fondly. Who knew how long they’d been soldiering along, trying to follow him with ears alone. And they were both shivering hard.

  “Wait here.” He put a hand on each of their shoulders. “I’m going to go find wood somewhere. Be back in a few minutes.”

  They insulated Demeter from the fire with several loads of dirt carried in Hermes’ jacket. It didn’t take long for him to gather the wood and scrub kindling, and even less time for Henry to get a decent fire going.

  “Let me guess. You were an Eagle Scout.” Hermes sat down on the skin and passed around a bag of taffy while cans of stew warmed in the coals.

  “I wasn’t, actually,” Henry said. “But we take family camping trips every summer.”

  “That fire feels so good.” Andie groaned. She’d stretched out on the skin and snuggled into it for warmth. It was a little weird, but Hermes and Henry only exchanged a silent smirk. “I don’t know if I even have the energy to eat.”

  “Try,” Hermes said. “You’ll need the fuel for tomorrow. We’ve still got another few hours on the skin, and then a trek to who knows where.”

  Henry leaned forward and stirred the fire, careful to keep all coals inside the sand trap.

  “Is this weird to anyone else?” he asked. “We’re here on her skin, and she’s somewhere over that way.” He jerked his head over his shoulder. “But she knows we’re here, and we’re camping on her.”

  Andie rolled her head toward him.

  “Henry. Just about everything about this is weird.”

  “Want to add another dimension?” Hermes asked. “Sit still and feel very closely.” He watched their faces turn horrified. “That’s her pulse through your butts.” They groaned and he laughed, but they couldn’t get away from it. Everywhere Andie rolled, the pulse followed. Hermes reached into the coals for a can of stew, double-wrapped it in a sock, and handed it to Henry. “Eat up, and get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll have our answers.”

  * * *

  Today is the day, big sister. Today we pick up your trail. And Cassandra’s trail. But yours first. Hope the mortals don’t have a problem with that.

  Hermes stretched languidly. The sun had started to warm the air, but Andie and Henry would probably still wake up shivering. In the early pink hours, he’d let the fire burn down to coals as a sort of alarm clock.

  They’ll have to see the logic of it. If we go for Athena first, we’re safer. And who better to get to Cassandra fast than Athena?

  It sounded good in his head. But he could just imagine Henry’s stubborn face: jaw set, eyebrows squeezed so close together they formed a line. They’d come around. But they’d argue first. Another reason they needed his sister. They never would have argued with her.

  A different sort of thrum resonated through Demeter’s skin. Henry’s footsteps.

  “Morning,” Hermes said as Henry came to stand shoulder to shoulder with him. “Sleep well?”

  Henry nodded and blushed a little. Hermes stifled a smirk. When he’d left the campsite, Henry had been locked together with Andie in a very solid spoon.

  “She makes a better mattress than I thought she would, actually,” Henry said.

  Hermes laughed. “I’m going to assume you’re talking about Demeter and not Andie.”

  Henry stuffed his hands into his pockets. The muscles in his jaw clenched and reclenched.

  “Let’s just wake Andie up so we can get going.”

  Andie didn’t say much when they woke her, except to ask for some water and a piece of gum, but Hermes noticed she didn’t look in Henry’s direction the entire time they were packing up their gear.

  So much tension. Maybe I shouldn’t have rolled them together last night after all.

  “Hey.” He tossed Andie the bottle of sunblock. “Reapply. You, too, Henry.”

  She reluctantly squeezed some into her palm, and made a face rubbing it in. It must’ve felt disgusting after the sweat, the dirt, and the night in the cold desert, but it was better than winding up red and peely.

  “You’re in a good mood,” she muttered.

  “Of course I am.”

  “Aren’t you the least bit worried about what she’ll say?”

  Of course he was. He was worried about a million things. Athena. Cassandra. The condition of them both when they were finally found. Athena’s feathers. The Fates. His own thinning body. Leading Andie and Henry into danger. He was worried, with a side of sadness and outright fatigue. But what good did it do, when they needed him? He was all that was left.

  “Let’s just go meet my aunt.”

  * * *

  Demeter’s enormous, leather-lidded eye swept up, down, and over the two mortals and one filthy god. They stood around it in a semicircle, quietly tolerating the appraisal. Hermes thanked the stars that Andie didn’t have any visible tattoos or piercings. Not even in her ears. But her sweat-stretched tank top didn’t do much to hide her ample chest, either. He glanced at her nervously, noting her tired face shaded underneath a ridiculous floppy hat. Maybe Demeter would just focus on that.

  “I was too hard on Athena before,” Demeter said. “Apparently everyone dresses like this.” She fixed her eye on Andie, and Andie squinted.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing,” Hermes said quickly. “She’s old. She likes collars buttoned to your chin and long sleeves.”

  Demeter chuckled, or at least it sounded like a chuckle. A lot of air moved across their faces, and the skin rattled beneath their feet.

  “I’m not as bad as all that, Messenger.”

  Henry craned his neck and looked around.

  “Where is your voice coming from?”

  Demeter’s eye swiveled his way, and Hermes braced. The mortals were bold and flippant. It was his own damn fault, and Athena’s, too, for befriending them and taking their jibes. But Demeter didn’t seem angry. The eye had an almost affectionate tilt.

  “I hardly know anymore, Hector. From my mouth. But where that is … I’ve been stretched so far it’s hard to feel.”

  “But you’re not in pain?” Henry asked.

  Her eye blinked slowly.

  “No. Not in particular. I sleep. Often. I dream.”

  Hermes nodded along with the polite conversation until he couldn’t anymore, particles of dust falling out of his hair.

  “Where’s Athena?” he blurted.

  All five eyes snapped to his face, but come on, they hadn’t walked across miles and miles of skin and sand to talk about his aunt’s aches and Andie’s exposed bra straps. This was what they wanted to know. It was all they wanted to know. And he feared the answer the second the question left his lips.

  “She’s in the underworld. Fighting my daughter.”

  The underworld. The words flickered into his head in neon lights. But that was so easy. He could get there. He could get there in less than a day. All he needed was water, a river maybe, and a boat … and blood. Always blood. Only there had to be more. Something else. Demeter never spoke so plainly.

  Except when it doesn’t matter. When there’s nothing to be done about it.

  “Is she dead?” His voice trembled. “She’s in the underworld. But is she dead?”

  “If she’s dead…” Andie whispered.

  “We’ll pull her out anyway!” It had been done before. By him, on occasion. Of course, that had been under orders. Demeter’s eye narrowed and she scoffed.

  “You? Pull her out? Messenger of skin and bones is
going to stand against my daughter and the king of the underworld? Hades doesn’t let the dead go. And you’ve never been anything, compared to him.”

  You old rag. You don’t know what I would do for her. What I could still do, for any of them.

  Rage bubbled up his throat and sang down to his toes. He could tear her to ribbons before she knew what was happening. Before she had a chance to pull her edges in. His anger was hot enough to almost make him believe it, but his knuckles rattled in his hands like dice and kept him still. He could only lie to himself until he looked in a mirror.

  Andie crossed her arms over her chest and shouted down at the eye.

  “Why did you bring us out here, then, if there’s nothing we can do? Where’s Cassandra? Where is she, you … saddlebag made of E.T.—”

  “Andie!” Henry grabbed her and pulled her back. “Fricken zip it!”

  “Don’t tell me to zip it. She’s my best friend. I’d be crying right now if I had any liquid left in my body!”

  Henry looked at Hermes angrily, demanding he do something, but aside from grabbing them both and whisking them off of the skin, and dropping another two pounds in the process, there was nothing Hermes could do.

  Demeter took a deep breath and lifted them five inches.

  “Cassandra is alive,” she said. “I told you that much. And I didn’t bring you here. That was your idea. If Hermes told you there’d be easy answers, or the answers that you wanted, then he’s still the same silver-tongued liar I was always so fond of.” She glanced his way. It was as close to an olive branch as he was likely to get.

  “But where is she?” Henry asked. “Why doesn’t she come home?”

  “Because she has work to do. You’re thinking too much about these errant girls. You have work of your own.”

  Hermes bent down and rested his knee against her warm surface. The day had grown hot again, and bright, and relentless. He pitied her, stretched thin every day to bake, and for dry winds to rake over.