Page 14 of Blood of Olympus

No answers were forthcoming. As far as I was aware, none had ever been soul-bonded before. At least, not like this. Not to another god. Not by risking his own life to sever his thread of fate, weaving it forcibly into mine — ensuring that whatever fate I was forced to endure, he would endure alongside me.

I still hadn’t wrapped my mind around the implications of that decision. But I had forgiven him for it.

Forgiveness, however, was not a currency I could presently afford to spend freely. Not with Kronos somewhere out there — hiding, biding his time to strike. Building an army, dismantling our defenses, swaying our allies.

Kronos had nothing but time. And he’d had millennia to ponder his retribution.

Ares had already defected. Now I needed to determine whether my other three suspects would choose the same fate.

“Hermes.” My voice echoed across the silent chamber.

The god in question flinched minutely before rising to his feet. I met him in the centre, neither’s gaze willing to submit to the other. Aros approached with a scowl and grasped him roughly by the shoulder. Wafts of smoke rose lazily from his fingers — or more accurately, from where his fingers were searing through Hermes’ chiton.

This doesn’t bode well.

“No other will be allowed to escape this,” Aros growled. “Not until we get to the truth of where your loyalties lie.”

“No other,” Hermes imitated in his slimy, nasally tone. “Just your father.” His eyes snapped back to mine, hatred oozing out of their dull black depths. “How can you be so sure the son of a traitor will not follow the same path?”

Aros’ fingers dug deeper, eliciting a grunt of pain along with the sound of sizzling meat.

“How dare you—” he began.

“The same way I know a soul is worth more than the sins of their parent,” I cut in before Aros could earn us another enemy. “Or shall I judge your children by your own deeds?”

Hermes glowered but refrained from further argument.

So, he does possess some small semblance of wisdom in that thick skull.

Velira snorted.

“Do you deny sabotaging my trials?” I asked softly.

His hate-filled eyes narrowed in contempt. “Yes. I deny it.”

My brows lifted, disbelief briefly fracturing my icy facade.

“I may not have aided you as others did,” he continued, shooting a glare at Athena, “but I did not actively seek to harm or eliminate you.”

A tiny nod from Aletheia forced my hand.

“He speaks true,” I growled, nails digging into my palm. The tension in the room was thick enough to slice with a blade. “But in the war to come, who will you tie yourself to?”

Hermes straightened as much as he was able under Aros’ unwavering hand. “None.”

Petrichor tainted the air and the chamber gushed with heat. Hermes swallowed roughly as Velira stalked slowly to my side. She stopped just behind me, her long serpentine neck extending over my right shoulder. Her large, golden eyes glared unblinkingly at the god of thieves, prompting his stuttering explanation.

“I b-bear no l-love for K-Kronos, but n-nor do I agree with the c-crown’s choice in you,” he grumbled, his speech smoothing with every bitter word. “For my own sake, as well as that of my kingdom, I shall ally with the majority of my brethren — which, for now, seems to be you.”

“Swear it on the Styx,” Aros snarled, forcing Hermes to his knees.

He glared up at the fiery god standing over him, and spoke through gritted teeth.

“I swear upon the Styx that I, Hermes, god of thieves and of travel, align myself with you, Nyssa, Queen of the Three Realms.”

Satisfied, Aros relinquished his shoulder with a sharp shove. His amber eyes pierced my own, as if to say what now?

Velira, are you able to communicate with Rufus?