Artemis fixes me with a hunter's gaze. "Who are you to decide when to return what is mine?"

"Nobody special," I say. "Just the guy whose life and love you're messing with this time."

Where Aphrodite checked me out, Artemis is deciding whether I'm prey or fellow hunter. I know that look. I've used it myself. "So you're the one. I suppose she could've chosen worse." I don't know what she's thinking, but there's some grudging respect in her tone. From what I remember of mythology, she and men don't have a great history. "Still," she says, "I will have my arrow back."

"And I will have Donna back."

It's not a threat, or I don't intend it to be. But Ares takes a step forward, snarling. "Upstart mortal. This is why I opposed this foolishness from the beginning."

"Which foolishness?" I ask. My new sense of patterns is on full alert.

"All of it," Ares says.

"It was necessary," Zeus talks over his son. "You know that."

"I do not know it." Ares removes his dark helm and I'm surprised to see he's … blond. I would've expected dark hair, I guess, to match the dark and brooding god. Clearly, I associate dark and brooding too much with Bruce.

The war god is glaring at the king of the gods. "I know that you chose it. I don't know it's necessary."

Darkening clouds reflect Zeus' emotions. "The daughter of Typheus must be contained."

"Or killed," Ares says. "We do not know that the beast will attack Olympus. And if she does, I will kill her then."

"You will try, brother." A new voice, one serene and yet passionate. The new arrival has an owl perched on her shoulder, and I recognize Athena. "There is no guarantee of your victory."

"Enough." A crack of thunder emphasizes Zeus' words. "This was debated and decided. It is done."

"Decided, aye," I hear Ares mutter, "but not much debated."

Their argument has revealed the situation more clearly. They've admitted the monster can kill a god, and Zeus fears it. They can't make a weapon to kill it, and yet Ares believes he can. He believes the weapons already exist, but other gods are loath to use what they cannot replace, and for that misplaced conservation Donna is forced to fight a stalemated battle for eternity. In a burst of inspiration, I realize I'm holding one of those much coveted and preserved weapons in my hand.

"I can distract you, if you'd like." Aphrodite's sensual voice accompanies the sudden brush of her toes against my ankle. I look down. She's moved her bench quite close to the basin that shows me Donna's combat and beneath the hem of my robe, she's playing footsie with me.

I step away, resisting the urge to kick her foot aside. "I'd rather have an explanation. Why does the king of gods need an Amazon to fight his battles for him?"

I believe I know the true answer, but what they say could be revealing as well.

"Prophecy, as always." Aphrodite pouts and seems bored with the subject, but willing to indulge. I smile encouragingly, and her eyes light. For once, I don't mind if someone sees me as just a pretty face. "There are few monsters who are destined to destroy Zeus. This is one. She may not seem exceptionally formidable, but supposedly she is immune to his lightning bolts."

"Enough prattle!" Zeus has noticed our discussion. "There is no need for explanation. Donna will serve as ordered, and he--" there's an element of disdain in Zeus' voice when he refers to me "--will ensure her service."

I will, but only until I can figure out how to end this circus. I go over my new powers again. Strength, speed, flight, healing, seeing patterns -- none of these will help. Perhaps Hecate's gift would, but I don't know what it is.

I look around for her, and then laugh at myself. My knowledge of mythology is limited to the main pantheon and their symbols. How will I know Hecate if I see her?

"All know me when they see me." Hecate emerges from a shadow between pillars. She appears young, as all the Olympians do, but her presence is heavy with age. She smiles at me, apparently sensing my thought. "Indeed I am older than these child-gods. I stood beside their parents, and then beside Zeus when he fought them."

I nod, not quite a bow. She's the only one who feels like a god should feel -- immeasurably old and deep as the Earth itself. For once, I don't know what to say, how to ask the question I need answered without being rude.

"Walk with me?" It's not an order, but I fall into step with her as I would with Bruce if he said the same thing. We don't go far, only beneath the portico of her hidden temple. I can still see the pool, and the gods surrounding it, but I sense that they no longer see us. I keep to her right side so the arrow in my right hand remains free to use. I think she knows what I'm doing and why, but she doesn't object.

"Zeus may rule the gods, but I rule magic," she says. "And I do not give magic to mortals."

"So you didn't bless the ambrosia."

"No. His command was merely to give a gift. He did not specify the nature of the gift, and he has no need to know what it is."

"Do I?" Making assumptions here might have deadly consequences.

She laughs. "Of course you do. I will not give you magic in any form, but I will perform one magical task for you."

I wait for her to add, "Choose it well," but she doesn't. I guess she hasn't seen enough Hollywood movies to know she's supposed to.

"You may consider as long as you wish," she says.

"I know what I want you to do." And I do. This is the final playing piece. I have the plan fixed in my mind now. Donna and I may yet have forever.

"Already?" Now she seems surprised. Disappointment flickers across her face. "Gold, I suppose?"

I show her the Arrow of Strife, its tip pointed away from us both. I know this is my shield against these gods, and surrendering it will put me at risk of their anger. But, I see no other way to help Donna win her fight. "Send this to Donna. She'll know what to do with it."

Hecate stares a moment, then respect replaces disappointment in her expression. "She chose well." But, she doesn't take the arrow.

Suddenly I'm unsure. "You can do it, right? Magic can do anything."

"I cannot send that between worlds without a portal." She glances at the distant pool. "If the tip breaks the surface of the water, I can carry it to her hands."

Good enough. I judge the distance and the crazy angles of this place. The gods still stand guard, but they have no idea how I move.

-X-

I wish I could talk to this monster, but she is beyond speech, beyond reason. She is capable only of destruction, and therefore must be destroyed herself -- not with anger or hate, but compassion. If I could end it for her quickly and mercifully, I would. Not just for her, but for me as well.

I think of Dick. He gave up mortality for me, something Kyle refused to do, something Terry would not even have understood. He didn't do it for the power, or because he feared death. He did it to be with me. I think of him alone with the gods who tricked us both, and wonder if he suffers the same hatred I do.

No, I answer immediately, he won't be wasting time with hate. He'll be planning a way out of this spectacle. Like Roman gladiators, Typheus' daughter and I destroy each other repeatedly to satisfy the whims of a cruel and selfish audience. I wonder if they watch us now, those gods. I wonder if they make him watch, and if so, is it changing what he feels for me? Is he learning to hate me as he watches?

I wish--

I feel my fingers close without willing them to do so. A weapon rests suddenly in my hand. I spare a glance. The Arrow of Strife.

Typheus' daughter closes, shrieking. Her claws extend. She has already shredded my clothes and slashed my skin, though no wound has been too deep to heal.

I don't think. I let my body move as it has been trained. I have to let her grab me to get close enough. I smell her rank, blood-spoiled breath. I plunge the arrow into her between two of her three heads, where I think the artery should be. Her blood spurts, hot enough to burn me.

And she dies. She turns to dust around me, much as Dick described the death of Blockbuster. I watch the gray dust drift down into the white mist below. And then the arrow crumbles as well, spent of its killing power. My hand is empty. It's over.

I know this is Dick's doing. He sent me the arrow. He outsmarted the gods. I want to shout, to dance. Mostly, I want to hold him. I turn to go back the way I came, but I see no door, no portal. And then I realize I do not know how to get home.