come, his one remaining eye coated with film. Except for the hungry gape of his jaw, he almost looked disinterested.
The Nereid let go and darted away, and for an instant Cassandra felt mad hope. But it had left her for
She opened her eyes as something passed by: Hermes. He drove his fist into Poseidon’s cracked flesh, but it was resilient as the rubber of a tire. It didn’t matter how he wrenched and fought. Poseidon didn’t release his grip. Through the silt-churned water Cassandra saw another massive hand cut through and close on Hermes’ arm.
But no. It would take more than a Titan’s fingers to break Hermes’ bones. All around them, black bodies of Nereids slid past like curious sharks, but none of them struck. She didn’t know why. Perhaps they’d been ordered not to. Or perhaps they were afraid of Poseidon too.
Her lungs tightened. Hermes twisted toward the arm that held her and bit down on tendon; the grip loosened just enough for him to push her toward the surface.
“Get to the shore!” he screamed, but she had just enough time for a breath before Poseidon dragged her back down.
Her head spun, growing dizzy from lack of oxygen and fear. She finally caught sight of Aidan through the bubbles and moving currents. He’d gotten around Poseidon’s back and hit him repeatedly. The reverberations of his fists passed through the water again and again, but weren’t doing much.
The pressure of the water against Cassandra’s skin and the sensation of being swallowed by the lake was too much. Poseidon would drown her and drag her corpse to the ocean with Aidan swimming behind.
Cold fear and despair took over, and she tore again at Poseidon’s hand. Her fingers found a piece of coral embedded near his palm and latched on, jerking at it, trying to tear it free. Hermes saw her and joined in, his hands brushing hers aside. It pulled loose like a long root from the ground and left a deep, twisting gash up Poseidon’s wrist, all the way into his elbow. Blood like black ink drifted around them in a cloud, but it worked. Poseidon let go, and Hermes shoved Cassandra toward the surface.
She coughed and sputtered. Hermes yelled for Aidan, who was there in an instant.
“Get her to the shore.” He looked at his golden brother. “And then come back. Don’t leave me here.” He dove back under, and Aidan put his arm around Cassandra’s waist and swam while she sucked in air. She tried to help when her heels hit soft sand, but her legs were weak and rubbery. He set her on the bank, away from the water’s edge, and smoothed back her hair.
“Are you all right?” He inspected her arms and legs for cuts; there weren’t any.
“I’m fine.” Her lip trembled. She didn’t want to cry, but it was there, in her throat. Terror and despair, big enough to make it hard to swallow.
“Go back to Andie and Henry. Wait for Athena. Don’t worry. You’ve shown us how. Now we’ll take him apart.” He was back in the water before she could tell him not to go.
She struggled to her knees and to her feet, backed away from the water another few yards. The lake churned around Poseidon, churned and splashed like the site of a feeding frenzy. Mad as it was, she wanted to be back in the water, back under the dark. On the shore, she couldn’t see what was happening, whether they were all right.
A form broke the surface and someone screamed: Hermes. Poseidon had sunk his teeth into Hermes’ ankle. His massive head twisted and Hermes twisted with it, but even as he did, he reached out for a pearlescent shell embedded in the other god’s chest and ripped it loose.
Poseidon let go and roared, but Hermes didn’t swim away. He stayed in close and went to work, fingers like whirlwinds, tearing out shells and pieces of sea trash, carapaces of crabs and lobsters half submerged. Even strands of thick-bladed sea grass with roots twisted into Poseidon’s veins. Discarded pieces of the sea god floated around them before they slowly sank.
Poseidon continued to rage; he plunged his hand beneath the surface and dragged Aidan up by the arm. His head twisted to bite and Cassandra screamed as he wrenched his head back and forth, ripping at Aidan like a crocodile, his lidless eyes expressionless. Red bloomed in the water and Cassandra saw a Nereid flit closer, smelling the blood. They had to get out of the lake. The Nereids would rush in to help sooner or later, whether they were ordered to or not.
“I’m not going to die underwater, you prick!” Hermes reached for the coral in Poseidon’s empty eye socket and twisted savagely. It broke with a sickening crack and Poseidon howled, pain driving him out of the water to the waist.
“It’s working!” Aidan shouted. “Keep going!”
Skin and muscle hung in loose shards across Poseidon’s chest and shoulders. They were dismantling him. Piece by piece. But it wasn’t fast. Poseidon drew his arm back and struck Hermes, sending him splashing back. He turned on Aidan, a horror with razor teeth and an eye socket leaking black down a cheek webbed with seaweed.
Far up the hill, she heard Andie and Henry shout as Poseidon lunged. Her heart hesitated in her chest as the teeth descended and took Aidan underwater.
“Aidan!” She scanned the ripples, the splashes. Long seconds ticked by with her stomach in her throat. “Hermes! Where are you?”
“I’m here.”
He limped out of the water, dragging his mangled foot in the sand.
“No. What are you doing here? You can’t leave him!”
Hermes looked back toward the lake. His eyes were distant and exhausted. “I didn’t. He won.”
“What?”
“Poseidon’s dead.” He thumped his chest. “I know it. It’s leached into my bones, passed into my blood like an electric shock. The sea no longer has a master.”
“But where’s Aidan?” Cassandra stared out at the calming surface, but Hermes paid no attention.
“There were pieces of him everywhere. As I was coming out, I think I saw a Nereid glide by and eat a chunk.” He chuckled sadly. “Poetic justice.”
Cassandra gave a small cry as Aidan’s head popped out of the water, bleeding from the nose and mouth. He swam slowly, awkwardly, and as he came into the shallows she saw why: Poseidon’s bloated, ragged head hung from his right hand. The god of the sea was dead.
“Guess that answers that question,” Hermes muttered, and turned up the hill toward the sound of screeching tires. A champagne-tan Dodge Spirit pulled up in front of the Mustang. The door opened and Athena rose out. She stared down at them in amazement. Odysseus got out of the driver’s side and his mouth spread in a wide grin.
Cassandra closed her eyes. Time had stood still since Aidan went back into the lake. But he was all right. He was there, drenched, holding an enormous severed head. Black blood drained from the ragged neck hole, staining his jeans and shoes. The Nereids were gone, slipped away toward the ocean once Poseidon was dead, or perhaps carrying his body along with them.
“Aidan.” She went to him as fast as she could on shaky legs. “Are you okay?”
“Well, he bit me.” His shirt was red from shoulder to elbow, and the water that dripped from his fingers was tinged pink. But he would heal. He looked at Poseidon’s head, which lost its color as it drained. The one remaining eye stared back at them. “Zeus’ brother. Earth-shaker. Dead at my hands.”
“He hasn’t really been Poseidon in a long time.” Hermes swallowed as Aidan moved to lean on Cassandra and kiss her head.
“Want to carry it?” Aidan asked and held out the head. “My shoulder—”
