Hercules stared at the paper. He'd gotten an Alpha-plus for his retest. He'd even gotten bonus points for answering the questions about Cronus eating his kids. Phil was pleased, his teachers approved, and Cassandra actually smiled a bit as Icarus slapped him on the back. Despite all of this, Hercules was thoughtful and a bit confused. His mind was on that strange man, Mercury. Some things weren't adding up.

Mercury claimed he was from Rome, but why did he know about the Greek gods? He said he'd studied them, but why not study his own gods? Hercules thought about it long and hard. The best answer he could come up with was that Mercury had been born in Rome but grew up in Greece. That made sense, but there was still something bothering him. Those grey eyes seemed so familiar. But he couldn't place where he'd seen them. It was driving him crazy as he walked up to the statue of Zeus.

"Father! I'm here!" Hercules called.

With an earsplitting crack, lightning struck the statue and the censors lit up with fire. Zeus beamed at his son, sitting back on his throne. Hercules stared up at him, and one thought hit him with such force that he didn't speak for a minute. He married his sister. My mother is his sister. Zeus sat there, his smile fading at the dazed look on his son's face. Leaning forward, he gently tapped Hercules's head with his large finger.

"Son? Is everything okay? Is it Adonis again?"

Hercules blinked, rubbing the top of his head. "What?"

"You look… unwell."

The boy shook himself out, forcing the thought away. "Sorry, Father. Just had a busy day at school." He paused then pulled out his test scroll from his bag. "I got an Alpha-plus on my history test."

Zeus grinned. "Excellent! What part of history?"

Hercules held out the scroll. Zeus whistled.

"Hermes!"

A second later, Hermes zoomed in through the door, sliding to a stop in the air. His white chiton draped over his almost too-thin body. When he saw Hercules, he grinned and touched down onto the stones, his godly glow diminishing until his blue skin and dark blue hair were the only indications that he wasn't mortal.

"Heya, Herc." He glanced up at Zeus, inclining his head. "You called, your divine immanence?" Hermes asked, swinging his caduceus up onto his shoulder and adjusting his red glasses.

"Hercules passed his history test. Bring it up here."

"You got it, sir," Hermes said, holding out his thin hands for the test. Hercules handed it over, and Hermes flew up to hover by Zeus's face.

"Ooh, not bad, Herc," Hermes said. "Alpha plus. And bonus points."

"What was the subject?" Zeus demanded.

Hercules clenched his jaw, afraid of what Hermes would say, what his father would say. But Hermes only pushed down his glasses to read the paper.

"About you and your sibs, big guy. Bonus points for answering that you banished Cronus to Tartarus for all time, and about that trippy rock that your mother gave him."

"So the beginning of my rule!" Zeus exclaimed, sitting back. "Good job, son!"

"Always good to know your family history," Hermes said, rolling up the scroll. He flew down to stand beside Hercules again, his feet alighting upon the stones with hardly a noise. "Keep it up, babe. You're doing great. You'll make a hero yet!"

Hercules smiled, but he was uneasy. Neither god even noticed the sick implications of Zeus and Hera becoming husband and wife. He took the scroll from Hermes, who studied him, tilting his glasses back.

"Have a good day at school, Herc?"

"Yeah, I guess," Hercules said absentmindedly.

What he really wanted was for them to acknowledge how wrong the correct answers on the test were. But Zeus burst out into praise of his boy, and Hermes smiled and nodded along. Hercules suddenly wanted to leave, to go and be with his friends. Because being with his friends was infinitely better than this new angle of seeing the world. He shifted, and Hermes glanced at him. There was something penetrating in his gaze, almost as if he could read his mind.

"Hey, Herc," Hermes asked in a pause. "Don't you have plans to meet your friends today?"

Hercules stared at him, surprised, and Zeus leaned down. "Plans with your friends?"

"Yep. Zoomed by and heard him talking about it earlier. Checking in on him, as usual."

"And you came by to see me first?" Zeus asked, tender affection in his tone. "Oh, Hercules, you really are a wonderful boy. I won't keep you any longer. Go on. Be with your friends. I have a dinner date with your mother."

"Thanks, Father," Hercules stammered.

Another flash of lightning, a peal of deafening thunder, and the statue resumed its upright form, serene and stern. Hercules stared at it for a moment as the censors went out, and the temple went dark. After a moment, he looked over at Hermes, who was polishing his caduceus on his chiton.

"Hermes, I don't… What? I didn't have plans with my friends."

"I know," Hermes said matter-of-factly. "But you wanted to get out of here. I just gave you an excuse."

"How did you know that?" Hercules asked, turning and walking toward the entrance.

Hermes fell into step beside him, matching his stride. This surprised Hercules because the god always seemed to be flying. But it was much more personal to have him walking with him, and the boy found that he liked it.

The god of travel pushed his glasses up as he answered. "If there one thing my job has taught me, babe, it's how to read faces."

Hercules rubbed the back of his neck. "I didn't look that bad… Did I?"

The god laughed, wrapping his thin blue arm around Hercules's shoulder. An earthy scent hit his nose as he was tugged close. Usually Hermes kept his distance, so this surprised the boy. But it was nice. And the smell reminded him of something he'd recently inhaled. He couldn't figure it out though.

"If you insist on keeping your pride," Hermes chuckled. "Then call it a lucky guess. Luck's my thing."

"You mentioned you always hit the long shots," Hercules admitted.

Hermes smirked, releasing him and striding along beside him, completely comfortable on his feet. "I'm the god of luck, among other things. I'm very lucky."

"Must be easy to take tests," Hercules muttered.

"The tests I've faced were not written, Herc," Hermes said. "Mine was in battle, in loyalty to the gods, particularly Zeus, and things like that. I could ace almost any written test, you know, but not because of luck. I'm the most knowledgeable god on Olympia."

"Still, luck is on your side," Hercules said. "That's got to have helped."

Hermes shrugged, looking away as they strode back toward Athens. It was a beautiful day, the sun warm, a cool breeze playing about the trees. Hercules watched the god, who was usually so peppy, so speedy and happy to be around. But there was a noticeable decrease in energy, a somberness that was uncharacteristic of the god. His shoes were still and quiet, attesting that it wasn't Hercules's imagination.

"Did I say something wrong?" Hercules asked. "I'm sorry, Hermes, whatever it was."

"No," Hermes said, rubbing his eyes beneath his red spectacles. "I've got stuff on my mind, too."

"What kind of stuff?" Hercules asked.

Hermes didn't answer, but he suddenly cringed. His shoes popped him into the air, and Hercules was startled by the sudden movement. Hermes actually looked angry.

"Simmer down!" he snapped at his shoes. "Aphrodite can wait!"

"Aphrodite?" Hercules asked as Hermes touched down to the ground again.

He glared at his feet as he answered. "Aphrodite's calling for me. She wants me to run an errand."

"Shouldn't you go?"

"You're more important than her," Hermes said. He cringed again, covering his ears. "I hear you," he muttered. "I hear you. Leave me alone."

"Hey, if you need to go, go on. You can meet me at Speedy Pita."

"Is that a command?" Hermes asked, gritting his teeth.

"Does it need to be?"

"If the son of Zeus commands me to hang out with him for the rest of the day, I can ignore the others. Zeus's orders are to keep you happy."

Hercules stared at the pain etched on Hermes's face as he cringed again, trying to get away from a call that the boy couldn't hear. "Yeah. I command you to spend time with me, Hermes. After you answer Aphrodite."

Hermes shot into the air. He paused for a brief second and flashed a grateful smile at Hercules. An instant later, he was gone. Hercules stared at the place he had just vacated. He had never seen Hermes flinch like that. He'd known that Hermes could hear calls to his name. The other gods and goddesses also could to some extent, but they chose to limit that to their temples. Hercules could call upon any god or goddess at any time, but that was because of his divine blood; as little as was left, it was still enough to catch their ears. But that look of pain, that burst of anger from the normally suave, easygoing god made Hercules wonder if Hermes really was as happy as he always seemed.

With a whistle, he called Pegasus to him, and he mounted. With a soft tongue click from Hercules, Pegasus leaped into the air, his broad wings flapping hard to get them aloft. Hercules stroked his neck, and he told the winged horse to go to Speedy Pita. He didn't notice the lush greenery spread out beneath them, the magnificent Grecian architecture, or any of the birds that soared by. His thoughts were too loud, too confused. He had so much to think about that he thought his head would burst apart. He was grateful when they landed, and Icarus hailed him from a booth.

"Herc! Good to see you!"

Cassandra swept her hair behind her ear and set down her scroll. "I thought you were going to meet your dad today."

Hercules shrugged. "Short meeting. He had a date with my mother."

"What's with the face?" she asked.

"Face?" Hercules asked. "What face?"

"Well, Herc, I'll be honest," Icarus said, slapping his palm onto the table. "You look like you're sucking on a lemon."

Hercules shrugged. "I don't know."

"Wanna talk about it?" Cassandra asked.

The demigod paused then leaned forward. "What do you think of my mom and dad? The immortal ones."

Icarus and Cassandra glanced at each other.

"What do you mean, Herc?" Icarus asked.

"You guys both passed the test, right?" They nodded, and Hercules swallowed. "Well, then you know that they're siblings."

There was a long pause, and Cassandra pursed her lips. "I see your point."

Icarus slurped up some of his smoothie. "It's a little… out there," he admitted.

"I don't understand it. Dad and Hermes weren't even bothered."

"You rang?"

All three of them jumped as Hermes slid neatly into a seat. He had a rose in his hand, which he tossed onto the table without a second glance.

"Done with Aphrodite?" Hercules asked.

"She wanted more flowers," Hermes said blandly. "I didn't bring enough roses for her daily beautifying regimen."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "Sounds exhausting."

"Trust me, babe," Hermes said, laying his caduceus on the table. "If you worked on your looks as much as Aphrodite does, you'd have to flunk school. Brains are much better than beauty."

"My little Cassie-lassie has both. In excess," Icarus purred, leaning close and waggling his eyebrows.

"Drop dead," Cassandra muttered.

"Ah, my little Cassandra," Icarus sighed. "You and your witty quips."

Cassandra rolled her eyes again and picked up her scroll. Hercules flagged down a waiter and ordered.

"You want something, Hermes?"

"Half a rack of lamb and a nectar, please," Hermes told the man, flashing his dazzling smile.

"You got it, sir," the man said politely, eyeing the god warily.

Hercules thought he saw Hermes's smile dim for a moment before he waved him away. Then the god turned back to look over his glasses at Icarus, who was scarfing down his food.

"Food's not going out of style, is it?" he teased.

Icarus grinned a very messy grin and swallowed hard. "Adonis stole my lunch again."

Hermes nodded. "Bullies are a pain. But you've got to remember that high school isn't the end of your lives, and it won't be your whole life. It's a steppingstone into better things. Adonis will either learn to be kind or he will be taken down a peg. It might not be you, Icarus, or you, Herc, that takes him down. But if he doesn't step down, he will fall. And it will not be pleasant."

Hercules stared at Hermes in surprise. That was advice that he could use about Adonis. He could still remember the terrible advice that his father had given him, but this was nothing like that. Hercules had never thought that high school wasn't the end. It was so all-consuming, taking classes, sitting through tests, and being bullied day in and day out, but he suddenly realized that one day it would all end. High school would end, and he really would become a hero… or something else. That day would come.

The demigod smiled at Hermes as their food arrived. Hermes took up a nice rib and winked at the boy as he took a big, messy bite. Hercules laughed; he couldn't help it. He'd never seen a god disheveled in any way, and now Hermes had sauce smeared over his chin as he chewed the lamb happily. He was truly unconcerned with the way he appeared before mortals. He ignored every wide-eyed stare, every whisper and point; instead, he took another bite.

"Good lamb," Hermes said jovially.

"You never get stuff here," Hercules said, taking a much neater bite of his wrap. "I mean, I've never seen you eat. The only god I've ever seen eat is Bacchus. And he just kind of swallowed it."

Hermes swallowed the bite of meat and licked his lips. He picked up his napkin and swiped it across his face, clearing away the sauce. "I just felt like eating. We don't technically need to eat, being gods and all, but food is delicious. One of the best things about mortals is their variety. Ambrosia and true godly nectar are good, but it's the same thing day after day. Mortals have made so many delicious things. Bread, gyros, delicate sauces for racks of lamb… Variety is the spice of life, and you mortals have it down." Hermes winked and took another bite.

"I wouldn't mind trying ambrosia or real nectar," Hercules said, staring at his wrap.

"I'm sure you will," Hermes said. "You'll make a real hero one day. But remember where you come from, Herc."

Hercules paused and nodded. "That's what my Pop says. If you don't remember where you come from, you can't know where you're going."

Hermes smiled, chewing the last bit of meat from his first rib. He swallowed and set the bone aside. "That is wisdom you can take right to the clouds, my friend. Just don't you forget it."

They sat there for over an hour, and Hermes polished off his ribs and nectar then ordered some baklava for all four of them. Hercules and his friends protested from lack of funds, but Hermes pulled out a purse and tossed a large pile of coins to the server, paying for the entire meal and tipping so generously that the server stammered his thanks.

"Give some to the poor boys in the kitchen, too," Hermes said. "Kay?"

"You've got it, your imminence," the water said, bowing.

Again, Hercules saw Hermes grimace, but it passed as quick as summer lightning, and then his smile was back, gleaming brightly. Cassandra and Icarus headed home, each carrying a box of baklava for their families, and Hercules stood up and grabbed his own box. Hermes reached for it immediately, shaking his head.

"I've got it," Hercules said, holding the box out of reach. "It's not like it's a mountain, Hermes."

Hermes paused then stood, and Hercules thought he saw a tint of dark blue on his cheeks. "Sorry," he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "Habit."

"Habit?" The boy began to head for Pegasus.

"I do every menial thing for the other gods," Hermes explained quietly. "They're too important to be bothered."

Hercules blinked. Hermes sounded so dejected, so, dare the demigod say, tired. He kept up with Hercules with dragging steps, and he rubbed his eyes again. The torchlight lit up his red lenses, making them glow dangerously. But Hercules didn't see Hermes as dangerous. Especially when he let out a shaky breath, and Hercules realized just why the god was rubbing his eyes. Discomfort shot through him. What was he supposed to do about a god crying? He couldn't even handle Cassandra when she was upset!

He quickly mounted Pegasus and looked away. "I gotta go," he said weakly.

"Herc," Hermes said softly. "One second."

Hercules glanced over to see Hermes standing there, looking somber. He wasn't sure he liked this new Hermes. Yes, it was more intimate, but it was beginning to scare him. Gods weren't supposed to act like this. They were above everything mortal. The answers on the test told him so, as much as it disturbed him.

"Yeah?" he asked, wanting once again to get away.

"You told me earlier that being lucky has got to have helped me."

"And?"

Hermes kept his head down as he spoke. "I don't feel lucky, Herc. If you knew anything about my life, I mean if you really knew, you wouldn't call me lucky. Luck only takes you so far."

Hercules paused. Hermes adjusted his glasses again, and he rubbed his arm, shivering with some deep pain that Hercules was terrified of understanding. Still, he couldn't just leave it at that.

"Hermes?" the boy asked, feeling a strange pressure around his heart.

Hermes turned away. "Hera's calling. I gotta go." His shoes flapped weakly, and Hermes knelt down to stroke their wings. "Day's almost over," he whispered. "Just another hour or two. Then we can rest." He stood up and his shoes began to flap, lifting him into the air. Hermes looked over at Hercules again and gave a sad smile. "See you around, Herc. Call if you need me."

Without another word, he dashed off, leaving Hercules and Pegasus staring after him. Pegasus whinnied, a questioning sound, but Hercules had no answer to give his winged horse. His heart ached for Hermes, and he wondered just how far the façade went, for Hermes's attitude today proved that there was more going on inside of the god's head than the boy knew, than any of the gods knew. And all the demigod thought about on the flight back to Phil's island was the tears that he'd known about but couldn't see, and he wondered how many more were locked inside Hermes's soul.