We're both in the apartment, Julie and I, trying to create the illusion of something relatively clean. I really don't know where this sudden urge to tidy has come from, but it's something to do - exercise for my restless hands - so I do it. My companion doesn't seem to mind helping. I suppose she thinks this is quality girl time.

Something has caught her attention. "Whoa!" she exclaims. "Where'd you get that?"

I still have trouble understanding Julie. She peers through a lock of stray hair, and grins at me as if we're destined to be best friends until the day when Helios the Sun finally decides that he's fed up with this peculiar ball of rock, and swallows it for all time.

She has noticed my bow. Long ago, I propped it against a wall like an abandoned museum piece, but although I've taken dismal care of it, it has not suffered any disrepair. It's actually quite beautiful when I think about it, every surface perfectly shaped for maximum force and accuracy. Back in the days when I used it regularly - they're long past now - it used to feel like part of me, its supple curves an echo of my own body. Now all that remains is neglect.

"This is amazing!" Julie squeals with excitement. She crosses the room and reaches forward, but something makes her hesitate before actually lifting the bow from its lonely place in the corner. She turns to me. "Is it yours?"

I might as well be honest, no matter how hard I am trying to appear disinterested. A single brief nod ought to be enough.

"You're an archer?"

"I was." I stroke the bow in her hands as I might a baby animal. "A long time ago."

"Rex and I sometimes play squash." There is a sentimental glint in her eye.

"Julie…" There's something she really needs to be told.

"I know." She cuts short my attempt at a warning. "I understand he's old enough to be my father…"

(Quite a bit older, actually.)

"...And how this must all be so strange to you…"

(I'm used to it. It's not like you're the first.)

"But we are happy together. Honestly, he just doesn't seem that old. You get what I'm saying, don't you, Jill?"

(Sure, but you don't know about...)

"WHERE IS HE?"

Oh, great. I'd recognise that enraged bellow anywhere. It's that kind of noise that shakes the earth, rattles bones, and runs through your back like a javelin. Julie stops, eyes wide with terror. Her yellow-olive complexion has turned the colour of rotten cream.

My stepmother has that effect on people. Julie's fingers are slack with the shock, and she drops my bow with a sharp wooden crash onto the floor. I lift it up - at least it is not damaged - and risk a glance through the open window.

"WHERE IS HE?" Of all the immortals, Hera - it seems - has changed the least. A dark sleeveless dress reaches down to her ankles, and she still keeps her hair tied in a matron's bun. She is older than Zeus, but looks much younger, with flawless ivory skin, and her hair is as black as if Chaos himself has been trapped within those springy curls.

I signal for Julie to keep well hidden, and watch as Hera stands in the dust just a few steps away from Doc's front porch. A gust of wind snatches the hem of her dress, and a cloud of dark hair escapes from its pins. Her eyes are as intent as a hawk's. My father had better watch out, wherever he is. But she doesn't seem to have spotted him yet.

Somebody steps through the front door. "Stay back," I hiss through my teeth.

It's Doc Jenkins. "Can I…" he starts to say, but Hera brushes him aside like a speck of dust from her shoulder. Falling backwards onto the road, Doc blinks and shakes his head in bewilderment. He's gotten off lightly.

If Hera sees us here, I doubt we'll be so lucky.

Slinging my arrows over my back and hoisting my bow with one hand, I attach my other hand tightly to Julie's wrist. "Come with me." My voice is down to an urgent whisper. Julie nods, still pale and speechless. Her legs have fared worse than her vocal chords. I practically have to drag her across the floor towards the stairs. As we make a dash for the ground floor, she trips on a step and almost falls. I spin around to catch her. I can see the whites all around her eyes, flecked with slender lines of pink and yellow.

"Who's that?" She appears to have rediscovered the art of speech. But there's no time to reply - the walls are already beginning to shake. Without a pause, I seize her hand again and tug her down the rest of the way.

Julie reaches the bar as if in a trance, and I find Apollo crouching with his back against the wood. The sound of his teeth grinding is quickly overpowered by the rattle of glass on a shelf behind him. I can see one bottle inch towards the edge and watch, captivated, until it falls with a crash onto the floor. Beside me, Julie jumps at every unexpected noise.

I don't have time for my twin's theatrics. He never used to be such a coward. "Where's Dad?" I shout.

He opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. He doesn't know, does he? Neither do I. I risk a glance around me, but the pub is empty from end to end. I would certainly notice if there was any sign of Zeus.

"Get up!" I force Apollo to his feet, and hope that it hurts him. Is this really my same brother, who could bring down a city with a single arrow? Pathetic, but there just isn't time. "Take Julie out the back before this whole place topples."

Apollo has Julie by the hand, and yet I'm still having to push them towards the back exit. We're out of sight of most windows - but I certainly wouldn't call us safe. Frustration boils inside my throat. It's a struggle to hold back an Earth-shattering scream of my own. "Go!" As my brother disappears from view, taking my father's girlfriend with him, I return my attention to the main doors. My jaw is clenched, tight and grim.