Page 124 of Blood of Olympus

“Is what?” I asked, annoyance twisting my features into a scowl.

I was beginning to think that was my standard expression whenever Nyssa wasn’t in the vicinity.

It is, Lykos confirmed.

I flicked him a scowl of his very own.

In the end, Arius answered, eager to explain, “This statue is carved in the likeness of the boar that struck down the mortal named Adonis.” The king spat into the fowl water.

The name struck a bell — familiar, yet I couldn’t quite grasp the reason why.

Aros growled — a deeply unhappy sound. “The mortal Aphrodite loved,” he said by way of explanation.

Oh.

All at once a fierce rage overtook me. Petrichor tainted the air, static energy causing everyone’s hair to lift. Lightning skirted across my skin and darted through my veins, sparking at the ends of my scarred fingers.

I closed them into fists at my side, my right hand clenching around something solid and hot. Without sparing a thought for how it would be perceived, I threw the bolt — tainted a light violet colour, its edged skirted by black shadow — with all my might at the figure of the bore. The stone shattered into dust, kicked up into a frenzy by the incoming storm my power sang for.

None of the gods by my side said anything at all, but Arius cried out in rage.

I turned my brightened gaze onto the king and glared until he broke eye contact and dropped into a kneel where he stood. His people followed quickly, even the children barely daring to breathe.

But that isn’t what I want. Children cowering before me… before us…

The ground trembled beneath my feet, and tiny squeals pierced my heart.

Then stop, Lykos intoned. You control your power, not the other way around, godling. His large snout prodded my chest. This isn’t what she would want either.

And it was that thought, that fragment of truth that evaporated the clouds fogging my mind. I blinked, relinquishing the storm thrumming in my very bones, and exhaled heavily.

“Just for good measure,” Aros growled, loosing a stream of furious red flame at what little remained of the fountain — violent enough that even Velira would be proud of the effort.

“How dare you destroy a symbol of our patron god?” Arius breathed, eyes flicking up to the skies like Ares himself was hovering overhead and would smote him.

“It was not a symbol of your god’s strength, but instead, his cowardice,” I seethed.

“That boar,” Aros’ voice shook. “That boar stole something from a very dear friend of ours. And she has never been the same since.”

“I see,” said the mortal king, though his face still conveyed the bitterness that now plagued him.

I couldn’t see any way to undo this — to repair the fractured relationship between ourselves and the people of Strathos.

Give it time. Hear them out and hope that they give you the same grace.

I fought the urge to pull a face at my oh-so-wise wolf, but knew that would not improve the situation I’d caused.

“Where to next?” I asked the king.

“Next, the Bloodhold awaits.”

“Fabulous,” Aros replied. “Caelus, if you have any extra woo-woo in those hands of yours, I really can’t be fucked walking all the way there.”

I snorted a laugh, feeling another pang at the absence of my soul-bonded snorter.

Concentrating fiercely — creating portals from nothing but darkness was harder than Nyssa made it look — I conjured a misshapen archway, wobbly at the edges but still — I hoped — usable.

“Go quickly, I guess I have less woo-woo than I’d like.”