Page 159 of Blood of Olympus

Whatever the goddess was going to say was interrupted by a fierce howl — a shriek so side-splitting I almost dropped Nyssa to clamp my hands over my ears. Instead, I jerked her head to my chest and covered her other ear with a palm until the sound ended abruptly. My ears rang so badly I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined the creature’s silence.

“Right on time,” Hyperion sneered. “You’re all dead now. Except her. Her, he wants for himself.”

“Over my dead body,” I growled.

A creature, as black as the darkest depths of night, and as horrifying as a demonic bull circled overhead once, snapping at Nike like an errant pigeon. She dove at the earth, barely escaping its fangs and landed roughly. A puff of dirt exploded around her ankles as Athena immediately pulled her close. But it was nothing compared to the jarring thud when the nightmare-beast landed nearby. The ground rattled its dissent as the beast shrieked again and bowed its head, giving view to its cargo.

Upon the creature’s back, in the dip between its neck and shoulder, sat a figure whose face turned my blood to ice. The last time I’d seen him, he had murdered my brother right before my eyes.

I clutched Nyssa tighter unthinkingly and she moaned again, earning the hungry gaze of the Titan of Time. Kronos’ upper lip curled, his red eyes gleaming with appraisal.

“That can be arranged,” Kronos drawled, his voice scraping at me like a dagger to the brain.

Hyperion reacted by storming forward and sweeping Aros aside with one swipe of his bulbous arm. Aros roared as he skidded across the ground, then rolled and popped up on his feet in one smooth motion — ready for battle. He launched himself at the Titan, Flameless swinging in a neat arc aimed for Hyperion’s right arm. Just as the axe made contact, effortlessly swiping through the outstretched limb with little more than a slight snick quickly followed by the dull thud of severed flesh hitting the dirt and a deafening, pain-filled roar. Hyperion dropped to his knees clutching the stumpy limb to his chest, even as gleaming ichor spewed out of it like a macabre waterfall.

Kronos growled, his brows slashing downward as he raised one hand, twisting his fingers as though turning an invisible doorknob.

I knew where this was headed next.

I’d seen this play before.

“Say your goodbyes,” Hyperion hissed through clenched teeth.

I cracked my neck, slammed a hand to the ground, and smiled. “Goodbye.”

Between blinks, we fell — like the earth opened up and swallowed us whole. I guess, in a way, it had. I’d opened a shadowgate below us — a semi-circle wide enough to encompass all seven of us in our various positions on the ruins of northwest Hellespont.

Nike squealed as we fell, her velvety wings catching in the updraft, slowing the descent of both her and Athena, locked in each others’ arms.

With a wild jerk of my fingers, I closed the doorway now above us. My last glimpse of battle was a pair of haunting scarlet eyes glaring down at us.

“Brace yourselves!” I yelled, my voice distorting oddly in the in-between, as I opened a second door beneath us. A heartbeat later all seven of us slammed down with various groans of pain, but the loudest, sharpest cry came from Nyssa. Her body barely hit the ground as I had moved to take the worst of it, but the impact itself sent her screaming. A shattered, mutilated keening exited her throat and she thrashed to free herself, trapped in some recent nightmare.

“Nightshade? Shhh, it’s alright. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” I held her until she lost the will to fight. Held her as she sobbed ichor-stained tears. Held her until she found the strength to piece herself back together just enough to function.

Everything else could wait.

A quick scan of our surroundings confirmed we’d landed in relative safety. Refugees of Hellespont milled around, staring at the altogether too vulnerable queen. Warriors quickly averted their eyes when they felt mine piercing them.

Apollo raced over. His skin was ashen, his face drenched in sweat. With shaking hands, he asked for an explanation as to the state of our queen. I had not the desire to relinquish her, nor jostle her further by attempting to sign back, so I left the explaining to the others.

The sounds of battle still clamoured in the distance — shouts, monstrous shrieks, and the piercing din of metal on metal — and the sorry state of our warriors here did little to reassure me that we were winning.

We needed Strathos. And they had said no.

“Why can’t I feel you?” Nyssa whispered. Her breath tickled my neck, reeking of ichor and anguish. I clutched her tighter still, repositioning her slightly, like one would a babe.

Once I got over myself long enough to register her question, I immediately threw that window in my mind back up. Her emotions, thoughts as loud as screams, and everything that was her washed over me — just where it should be.

Caelus, Caelus, Caelus, she chanted, as loud as mental pikes. Her voice clawed through my mind, ravaged it in her fierce desperation, followed by a profound sense of relief when she realised she could feel me there.

A sob escaped her. Thank the Furies he didn’t take this, too, she breathed.

Nightshade… what… what did Hyperion take from you? Did he… I could scarcely bear to ask. Did he violate you?

She flinched, and I took that as confirmation until her head began shaking. Not in that way. He… She shifted.

Someone gasped behind me.