Free Mortal Gods by Kendare Blake

to take the ramp.” She let Andie put a hand on her shoulder like an old woman and listened to her bitch and moan her way up the first flight.
    “You could take the heat off me, you know, if you’d let her train you, too.”
    “Not a chance.”
    “It wouldn’t even be hard for you,” said Andie. “You have all your memories already. It would be like riding a bike. It would all come back.”
    Cassandra shook her head. There was still another long flight of stairs to go, and then two long hallways to the classroom.
    “You and I had very different past lives, Andie. You were an Amazon married to a warrior. I was a crazy princess they locked in a basket.”
    “You mean you don’t remember anything useful? You can’t shoot an arrow, or drive a chariot?”
    Cassandra’s memories of Troy sat in the back of her mind like something she’d done in childhood rather than thousands of years ago. She didn’t like to think about it. Not only because of how it ended, in blood and despair. But because it felt normal to think about it, when it should’ve felt strange.
    She shrugged.
    “I’m pretty sure I can work a loom,” she said.
    “Yuck. Boring.”
    “Just be glad Athena didn’t choke you, too. You used to do it with me. We’d sit all day in a room and weave, talking about the menfolk. They were riveting times.”
    “Hey. You guys are going to be late.” Henry walked toward them from the direction of his locker, looking strangely naked without a notebook in his hand.
    “We’re late already,” said Andie. “Aren’t you?”
    “I’ve got a free study hall period. I told Coach Baker I’d go clean up the weight room.” He nodded at Andie. “You look like hell. You’ve got to rub out the lactic acid. Strip the muscle.” He moved toward her, and she growled. “Fine. Later maybe. So are you learning anything, or just getting your ass kicked?”
    “I’m learning everything,” Andie replied. “I could kill you with my pinkie finger. If only I could bend it.” She told him what she and Athena were working on, and the excitement in her voice was plain. And something else, too, that Cassandra didn’t like: eyes like stars when she said Athena’s name. The goddess’ glamour, getting to her. Henry didn’t like it, either. But there wasn’t anything they could do about it.
    “You should let her train you, too,” Andie said.
    “No.” Henry was firm.
    “Is it just because it’s her? If Aidan was here, would you let him?”
    “No,” said Henry. “I just want them all to die.” He looked sheepishly at Cassandra, but she knew what he meant. He hit Cassandra in the shoulder and walked away.
    “How can he say that?” Andie asked. “How can he mean it? I know you guys blame Athena for Aidan dying, and frankly, that’s twisted, but what about Hermes? He’s our friend. And Aidan was. It’s not all of them.”
    Cassandra stared after Henry. He looked more like Hector now, even without his memories. One life bled onto the other. Why? Out of necessity? Because he was needed? She’d often wondered why fate had chosen to plant the three of them in Kincade and no others from Troy. Where were Paris and Helen? Where were Troilus and beastly Agamemnon? Were they waiting somewhere? Would she see them again? Or had the Fates finally finished with them?
    If they have, they should count themselves lucky.
    “It’s not all of them,” Cassandra said to Andie quietly. “But their problems become our problems. Their problems are going to change our lives.”
    *   *   *
    Cassandra had been standing in front of Aidan’s headstone for an hour. Another Friday in front of his grave, not knowing what to say. Her throat hurt from the urge to cry, from backed-up tears and stopped-up words. If she opened her mouth, she would only scream.
    He couldn’t be dead. Not really. He was a god. But Cassandra looked at the ground and felt nothing. No lingering spirit. No connection.
    If only he were there. If only she could