Antigoddess Read Free Page A

didn’t know what she had expected. Part of her had hoped that Demeter had escaped the fate of the rest of them, that her link to the fertile earth had kept her well. Instead she seemed to be suffering worse.
    “Maybe you shouldn’t touch her,” Hermes whispered. When she looked at him quizzically, he shrugged. “It seems indecent, doesn’t it? We don’t know what part of her this is, and—well, honestly, what if she’s already dead?”
    “She’s not.” Athena bit her lip on the question of why he couldn’t tell. Every god had different talents. Maybe Hermes couldn’t detect any of them. But the slight vibration that had been in Athena’s bones since they made it to the desert had grown to a dull yet soothing hum. Using her fingers, she traced the line of the skin a few steps to her right. Reluctantly, Hermes did the same to their left. When they were twenty paces away from each other, she stood and put her hands on her hips. Then she lifted her boot-clad foot and stepped down, pressing her weight onto the layer of skin. It didn’t move, but Hermes was at her side in an instant, dragging her back.
    “What are you doing?”
    “What we came here to do,” she hissed, and jerked away. “We have to speak to her, if she can even still speak. And the only way to do that is to find her mouth, which is obviously nowhere near here.” She looked around bleakly. The skin could stretch for miles. And even street- and century-hardened as she was, she didn’t relish the idea of tramping around on it for what could be hours or days.
    “Demeter!” Hermes shouted. They waited in the stillness. It was difficult to believe that the stretched skin at their feet was actually her, the summer goddess, lush and full of bounty. People had once made offerings of grain and grapes. They had danced in her honor.
    “You don’t have to come,” Athena said finally. “I’ll understand if you don’t.”
    “This is stupid.” He put a hand on her arm. “You should call an owl.”
    “We’re in the middle of the desert.”
    “Don’t play dumb.” When she continued to, he gestured to a patch of tall saguaros, their arms raised. To Athena, the cactuses seemed to be waving stupidly, traitorously. “There are owls here.”
    Of course there were. She could see them. And hear them. There were close to a dozen tiny elf owls within calling distance, and every one would do her bidding. She rubbed her tongue against the roof of her mouth and felt the hardness of a new quill growing beneath the surface.
    It isn’t their fault . We all go our own way. Hermes eats his own flesh, Demeter gets stretched to the point of tearing, and I choke to death on the inside of a bird cage.
    Athena looked at her companion. They were both haggard and dirty. Hermes’ vibrant skin was caked with dust, and rings of armpit sweat grew larger on his gray t-shirt. She glanced down and brushed at dirt marks on the belly of her black tank top. Her hair hung down her back in dark, rough tangles.
    “What are you doing?” he asked.
    “I don’t know. I just got the idea that when we saw her, we shouldn’t look like … such punks.”
    He laughed and flicked a lock of her hair over her shoulder. “Then you should’ve dyed over those purple streaks before we got here. It’s too late now. We look how we look.” Despite his words, he brushed at his jeans. “We’re really going to see her. Aunt Demeter. After so long.” He smiled. “And much sooner if you’d just call a damned owl.” His breathing was slightly labored, but hope lit up his eyes for the first time since they’d started their search for answers.
    God of thieves , she thought fondly. Always looking for the easy way out. But this is only the beginning.
    Still, he had a point about the owls.
    “You win.” She lifted her hand toward the nearest group of saguaros.
    It was like pulling a string. A tiny, yellow-eyed bird dove out of the cactus and made a beeline for them. Athena lowered her hand