Athena inclined her head lightly, neither a confirmation nor a denial. Marcie wasn't wrong; there was little that could be done now to halt the curse's virulent spread through her body.
Atropos's words grated against her thoughts: Gotta spend some more time tending your own garden, bright-eyes. You're getting careless. As usual, the crone wasn't wrong. Three times, Marcie had said. It should never have progressed past one. She could have nipped this in the bud, had she been paying closer attention.
"As I said, I can't make promises. I won't insult you by underplaying the severity of the situation. But little is not nothing, and I am willing to try."