Page 137 of Blood of Olympus

I had no idea who was closer to sparking — Aros or I. He with his flames or I with my lightning.

But one way or another, this king would burn.

Erato unsheathed the dagger at her thigh in such a smooth motion that I barely noticed it, let alone anyone else in the room, least of all the obnoxious worm of a king. He soon realised, though, when her dagger whirred through the air and impaled his left shoulder, spurring the roomful of warriors into immediate action.

One slammed her face down into the table, while another grabbed my arm, collapsing in a smouldering pile when lightning struck him from the contact. Aros’ skin glowed as he channelled a torrent of flame from his left hand, simultaneously grasping the roaring Arius by his throat, melting it.

Erato kicked her assailant’s legs wide, throwing his balance and reared back slamming her head into his nose, breaking it. I finished him off with a sparking fist to the underside of his chin, while she pouted. “I had him.”

I grinned, all teeth. “I know.”

Aros shoved the king down forcibly, giving little regard to his injuries. The scent of burnt hair reached my nostrils and only then did he relent, relinquishing Arius’ neck to reveal a sticky, mottled mess.

“You’re too late,” he rasped. “They’re already coming.”

“Where?” Aros growled. “Who?”

Arius’ returning grin was nothing short of manic. “You’ll see. Strathos will always side with its Primal god,” he cackled.

“Strathos will soon have another Primal,” my friend avowed, and wrenched Erato’s dagger from his shoulder, only to swipe it across his ruined neck. “And now it shall have a new king.”

Erato shuddered. “Brutal,” she breathed. “Brilliant, but brutal.”

Aros swung around with an easy grin. “Thanks! Pretty dramatic if I do say so myself.” He wiped the blade on the king’s cloak and handed it back to the demi-god, hilt first.

Wordlessly, she placed it back in its sheath, staring at the god of war in bewilderment.

He whistled. “They’re gonna be cleaning this up for a while. Let’s say we wander back down to the temple and confess to our sins, aye? Beg for my father’s forgiveness.” He snorted, strolling casually out of the room, but not before whispering a quiet, “I look forward to meeting your new king,” to a terrified pair of guards just outside the doorway.

Erato gaped at me instead. I just shrugged. “Don’t look at me. God of war and violence, remember? He lives for this shit.”

CHAPTER 34

Nyssa

The Temple of Athena was quiet when I arrived.

Godling, Velira trilled as our consciousnesses joined again. Are you alright?

Truthfully, no… it’s been a long night, I answered, mulling over everything that had happened in the space of the last few hours. Did Aph and Arch make it back okay?

They did, though ‘okay’ is a relative term. Archimedes has looked — and smelled — better.

He lost his father tonight, Vel.

Exhaustion and emotion weighed heavily on me. I barely made it to one of the stone benches lining the walls before collapsing onto it, fighting off a wave of sorrow.

Now that I was alone, I could cease pretending to be apathetic and nonchalant. It was for Caelus’ benefit only that I had pretended, before sending him out again to finish the job he’d started before coming to rescue me — but I wasn’t the damsel in need of rescuing in this tale.

No. In this one, I was the villain, the monster, the murderess.

Everyone else needed saving from me.

I killed him.

My heart was a solid block of ice in my chest; each beat sending frost further along every artery, every vein, until my extremities trembled from it.

You saved Archimedes, Vel intoned. She was somewhere nearby, that much I knew. You were the conduit for his father being able to save him.