“That depends on the puppet.” A hint of fond smile touched the Skyfather’s mouth, and Athena knew the danger had passed. “And, to be sure, on the puppeteer.”

“Has Kratos not provided a consistently pleasurable diversion under my hand?” Athena was now on more certain ground. Boredom was an affliction more feared by the gods than the plague was feared by mortals below. “Do his struggles no longer entertain you?”

“No, he’s wonderful, child. Really.”

“Then why, Father, do you allow my brother Ares to torment him so? Ares is trying to kill him, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zeus replied. “But he hasn’t had much success, has he? Kratos has proven… enjoyably durable.”

“The Blades of Chaos grant him power above even his considerable natural gifts. But still, do you find it seemly for your own son to undertake the destruction of your favorite mortal?”

“My favorite?” Zeus again stroked his storm-cloud beard, musing. “Why, I suppose he is. In truth, Kratos can be of use to me. In my name, send him on a mission to Crete to take care of that unpleasantness. He is the perfect one to put right what is going awry. Yes, Kratos can be of service to me right away. Rest easy, Athena. I will speak with the Lord of Battles when next he presents himself before my throne and direct him to cease this persecution. Will that satisfy my most beloved daughter?”

Athena lowered her head demurely, the better to conceal the beginnings of her slim smile. “It is all I can ask, my lord father. I am certain Ares will not risk your displeasure.”

“Are you, now?” Zeus sat straighter on the throne, bringing both hands to his knees as he leaned toward her. “There is something you’re not telling me, my wily little goddess. Some design of yours progresses to your satisfaction. I’ve seen that look before-as when you made me consent to the destruction of Troy if they failed to protect your statue… then you pulled that dirty trick with Odysseus and Diomedes.”