Antigoddess Read Free

too much.”
    “You know why I study so much.”
    He looked at her and held out his arm; she rolled closer and rested her head on his shoulder.
    “The future, the future, I know. You don’t know where we’re headed. A little weird for a psychic.”
    “Shut up.” She nudged him in the ribs.
    “I’m kidding. But I’m telling you. It’ll fill in. It’s the only thing it can do.”
    Cassandra said nothing. They’d talked about it before. The dark spot waiting up ahead, somewhere around her eighteenth year. The day when she’d no longer be able to foresee things. It was a strange thing to foretell, her own lack of foretelling. But she knew it, just as surely as she knew on which side a coin would fall. She wouldn’t be psychic forever. One day it would be gone, like a light going out.
    It’ll fill in, he always said. And she supposed he was right. But since they wouldn’t be able to scam freshmen for cash forever, they’d better have a backup plan. Like college.
    Cassandra listened to Aidan’s heartbeat, the hot rushing of blood so strong beneath her cheek. When she’d first told him she knew her gift would disappear, she’d asked if it would make her less. If it would make her boring, or ordinary. He said no, but sometimes when she made a prediction the look in his eyes was so intense. Almost proud.
    “Do you think I’ll feel stupid?” Cassandra asked.
    “Stupid?”
    “After I can’t see anymore. Will it be like a blank? Like words on the tip of my tongue that I can’t quite remember?”
    “No.” He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t think it’ll be like that.”
    “What do you think it’ll be like?”
    “I think it’ll be like … life,” he said after a few seconds. “Like other people lead. I think you’ll go to college, and I’ll go to college, and we’ll get a place together. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
    It was. Despite a few misgivings, most of her couldn’t wait. It might be nice to not know for a change. More of an adventure. Aidan said that some people would kill to have her ability, but she didn’t know why. It never came in any particular use.
    “Yes, that’s what I want. That’s why I study.”
    “Not a good enough excuse. I’m the richest orphan in the tri-state area. We don’t need scholarships.”
    “ You don’t need scholarships,” she corrected. “Not all of us get to live out a reversal of the musical Annie .” She remembered how curious she’d been three years ago, when she’d heard that Ernie and Gloria Baxter, neighbors for as long as she could remember, had adopted a teenage son. A trust-fund-rich teenage son.
    Aidan grinned. “I guess it was a pretty hard-knock life. Living in all those group homes.”
    Cassandra lay quiet. He joked, but it was probably more true than not. Part of her still didn’t understand why he’d chosen to live in state-run facilities and group homes instead of with whatever remained of his family. A family as wealthy as his had to have surviving members. A drunk uncle, at least. But she knew better than to ask. He shut down whenever she brought it up. “You worry too much.” He sounded drowsy. She’d have to rouse him soon, or they’d wake to a vision of her dad’s extremely annoyed face. “You and I will be together, Cassandra. You don’t have to be psychic to see that.”

 
    2
    THE MOTHER OF THE EARTH
    They walked for two more hours before he stepped on it. Or rather, before he stepped on her. Demeter. The one who used to be called the Mother of the Earth. It was much like stepping on the edge of a long-collapsed tent. Pebbles skittered across the leathery surface, making soft, echoless thumps. When they knelt to inspect the edge, they couldn’t find one. She simply disappeared into the dirt.
    Athena ran her hand gently across the skin, because that’s what it was. Skin. Stretched as taut as a drum, dried out and tanned.
    “Hermes,” she whispered. “I didn’t expect her to be like this.” She