Page 11 of Blood of Olympus

The pair crashed together a second later, arms wrapping tightly around their counterpart in a way that made me question how Artemis could have chosen to act against her brother at all — let alone on something as important as his first prophecy.

Maybe regret tainted her actions; maybe it was something else I couldn’t quite grasp. But there was a chance for Artemis to make amends here — if only because she cared so deeply for her twin, as he so obviously did for her in return.

What did I say? Apollo finally dared ask.

You don’t remember? I asked.

He shook his head slowly, already fearing the worst.

You spoke of the end being near… of disaster befalling the realms… and of only one way to “halt time.”

At first, he said nothing — he just let the silence linger. Then, wincing, he shaped his fingers in the air to spell out the words:

Well, fuck.

“Well, fuck,” indeed.

Caelus grabbed my hand, our bond buzzing with tumultuous fear and grim determination.

“Only one end shall meet us, and it is Kronos’ — not yours. Not ours.”

His vehemence was inspiring, but I knew better than most that you can only fuck with fate so far before it inevitably decides to fuck with you right back.

I lost Charon because I chose to drag Caelus back. And while I didn’t regret my actions — while I’d do it again in every lifetime — I also knew that Fate snatched my ferryman in recompense.

My imagined version of Charon was quiet, as if he, too, knew I could only handle so much devastation in one day.

The gods were silent as well, each wondering how exactly Apollo’s extension of the prophecy would play out. Was it literal? Symbolic? None of us would know until we knew.

A gentle tug on my sleeve pulled my attention down to the troubled gaze of a seven year old girl, already burdened with more than any child should have to bear. Aletheia said nothing — she just pointed to the marble gateway at the rear of the room and the flash of red hair disappearing through it.

“No!” I yelled, sprinting towards the portal, flicking a dagger made of inky shadows as I ran.

My shout jolted others into motion and I could see a handful of figures launching to their feet or bolting past my periphery. None of us made it in time.

My blade disappeared after the bastard god of war, but the prick closed the portal behind him before I could throw myself through.

None of us had noticed him tiptoeing away; all were too fixated on Apollo and his warning.

And now Kronos and Hera would learn of it too.

“Fuck!”

War was coming faster than we anticipated. I only hoped we’d be ready when it inevitably arrived on our doorstep.

CHAPTER 3

Caelus

Nyssa swore as the portal closed half a second before she could leap through it.

Half a second before she made a very unwise and reckless decision as queen of three realms.

Half a second before my heart fell into my stomach and I lost all control of my mental faculties — and potentially my bowels. Again.

“Aros!” she called, eyes locked on the marble archway.

My nose wrinkled as a sudden pang of envy hit me — until I used my brain and surmised that no, it wasn’t personal, she didn’t want him like that. It was business, and Aros had just been named essentially her second in command, of course she’s going to call on him.