Page 10 of Blood of Olympus

The gentle touch triggered something. Apollo’s head snapped up, his golden gaze immediately latching onto my emerald green like a lifeline in a hurricane.

Then, his words increased in volume.

A shiver slid down my spine as every set of eyes in the room locked onto him. Even Hephaestus and Ares stopped to gawk.

I’d never known Apollo to speak — none of us had. At least, not from his physical body.

The god of sun was deaf, and usually preferred to converse via signing. But Apollo’s hands made no graceful shapes and his speech was perfectly enunciated. His tone, rasping and low, demonstrated centuries of disuse — but it wasn’t his tenor that froze the breath in my lungs.

It was the words themselves.

Because I knew them.

“Beneath the eyes of the sleeping Titan,

Where Selene does not dare tread,

The heir of death shall rise,

And life shall soon be bled.

Kings and kingdoms shall fall,

After the eagle takes its last breath,

Many hands will reach for the crown,

But its bearer must be death.

For a dark and ancient power wakes,

At the breaking of the storm,

Untold chaos in the realms shall reign,

Unless the power of death is borne.”

And just when his words should have stopped — every stanza spoken, every line already passed — he continued on in that same grating tone:

“The end is nigh when skies crack, blood rains,

And oceans weep in fire,

None can halt time but the power of two,

Halves made whole by desire.”

Apollo blinked as he came back to himself, his brows all scrunched together. His long, umber fingertips shot to his throat, rubbing the skin as though it pained him. His eyes darted wildly around the room, taking in every horror-filled face, before landing on me and my undoubtedly pallid complexion.

His hands twisted elegantly through the air, spelling out his confusion in two single words:

What happened?

Surprisingly, Artemis was the first to pull herself together. She sprang to her feet and rushed over to her brother, the silver beads in her dark braids glinting as she moved. Her midnight eyes were wide as she knelt before him, taking one graceful hand into her own. The other spelled out an explanation that caused Apollo’s face to fall.

You spoke another prophecy.

Tacked onto the end was the single gesture that meant brother.