Blake, Kendare Antigoddess

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.”Hermes shrugged.“Maybe if we tell her we can prevent the war.A war between the gods means a dirty, bloody mess, and not just for us.”“So we should lie.”He shrugged again.“Maybe not.If we have to go down, I wouldn’t mind if the mortals went down with us.It sort of eases the blow.Is that wrong?” He took another long swallow of beer.“To tell the truth, I sort of thought that it was the humans who were doing this to us, somehow.”“We still don’t know what is doing this to us.This whole thing feels strange.I’m dying, and I feel like something’s starting.Like something is on its way.But maybe that’s just how it always feels.Not like we would know.”Hermes took a swallow of Rolling Rock.“A war against our own.Killing each other to survive.I wonder who we’ll go against?” He started to say more, and then summed it up with a shake of his head.The truth was, the gods had never really cared that much about one another.Bonds were fickle and morality generally nonexistent.They changed sides constantly.“Those bastards.” He looked at her incredulously.“How could any of them think of killing me? Me! All these millennia, all I’ve done is be helpful.Deliver a message here, fetch a hero there.”“Necessity is a strong motivator.” Athena rubbed her tongue across the bump of feather on the roof of her mouth.The others were dying too, in various ways and shapes.She knew that much.And killing each other wasn’t really such a strange way to survive.Their grandparents, the Titans, had eaten their own children toward the same end.“Another round?” The bartender stood directly in front of her, an impatient stare on his face like he’d been there for days waiting for her to notice.“Yeah,” she said, and reached into her wallet for a twenty.He took the money and their empties.They waited to speak again until he’d brought the fresh drinks.He still forgot the waters.“Are you sure the oracle isn’t in Delphi?” Hermes asked.“She called it a ‘she.’ Which I guess rules out Tiresias.”“Not necessarily.There’s no rule that says you have to be reincarnated as the same gender.”“How would you know? You should hope there is.Or our task becomes harder.So rattle off some female prophets.” She took a long drink and set her mug down hard with a heavy clink.“All I can think of is the Sybil, but she was never one person.She was a line passed down over time.” She took another drink.The temptation to let this business rest rose up, strong and cloying.Her back hurt, and her eyes hurt.There were feathers seeding her internal organs.Beside her, Hermes’ labored breathing hadn’t abated.Maybe it never would.They could just drink here, in this small, comfortable bar, and forget about things.They could stretch out across the land like Demeter and sink into the dirt.Haven’t I lived long enough? Shouldn’t a goddess have the grace to accept this?“She also said you screwed the girl over.” Hermes squinted while he thought.“The three of you, she said.That mean anything?”“I’ve screwed a lot of people over.”“Yes, you have.”“So have you,” Athena snapped.“But we’re talking about you.So think.”Think.What prophetess did I screw over with the help of two other gods? A prophetess strong enough to help us now, somehow …“Oh, shit.” Athena turned to him.“It’s Cassandra.”Hermes’ eyes glowed brilliant blue and stood out like methane torches against his dirt-streaked face.“Of course it’s Cassandra,” he said.“She’s talking about Cassandra.God, we’re idiots.” He clapped a hand to his chest.Cassandra of Troy.A princess and prophetess during the Trojan War.She’d warned her city that they would fall to Achilles and the Greeks, but no one had listened.Because she was cursed.Someone cursed her to never be believed.Not just someone.A god.Their brother, Apollo.“It’s so simple,” Hermes said.“Cassandra of Troy.”Athena blinked.Hermes was getting ahead of himself, as usual.“Don’t get too excited.We might be wrong.And you should hope we are.” She took a drink.“Why?”“Because I fought against her, last time.I sided with the Greeks to burn down her city and murder her family.I started the war.”Hermes waved his hand dismissively.“Sides change all the time.” He tightened his thinning fist, spread his fingers, and watched them tremble.“But I guess … Even if we find her, she won’t be the same person we knew once.She’s probably happy and not a part of this anymore.”The sympathy in his voice edged just nearer to sorry for himself.Death was softening him up.Athena didn’t remember him having an excess of compassion for mortals in the past.It was sort of touching.And they didn’t have time for it.“You’re not even half right.She probably is happy, but she’s also the same prophet we knew once, and that means she always has been, and always will be, a part of this.”She took a long pull of her beer, but it tasted bad.Cold water was what she’d craved since they’d come in.She looked at the bartender to order, and found him staring straight at her.When she opened her mouth, he opened his in a broad, strange smile.A smile that quickly stretched until it split into bleeding cracks across his cheeks.Beside her, Hermes took a drink and crinkled his nose.“Yuck.Did someone salt this while I wasn’t looking?”“Hermes.” Athena put her hand on her brother’s arm and together they looked around the bar.The baseball game was forgotten.Every pair of eyes was on them.As the seconds ticked by, the flannel shirts and thick, tanned flesh of the bar patrons hung looser.Blue and silver scales began to show through at their temples and cheeks like harlequin-painted sequins [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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