Page 176 of Blood of Olympus

Without warning, she lunged at me. It took every ounce of muscle memory and quick thinking to evade each of her precise blows while Athena laughed somewhere in the background.

“She gave me peace” — I dodged a blow meant for my right thigh — “because she reminded me” — I ducked under another meant for my head — “that I trained for this.” I jumped to avoid a sweeping kick to my ankles. “That even if Apollo never finds a way to restore my sight, Charon trained me for every possible outcome. Even this.” She gestured to her ribbon-clad face.

“I fail to see how that is peace,” I admitted, rolling out of the path of her swinging arm.

“It is peace because she reminded me that I have withstood far worse. That I don’t need eyes to carve those fuckers into oblivion — just my bare hands will do.”

“A ribbon can do all that?”

“No. A woman’s resolve can.”

Aphrodite whooped. “Absofuckinglutely it can!”

I cracked a smile at the seemingly dainty goddess of love and desire cheering like a young girl witnessing the thrill of her first stadion race.

“Now, Athena,” Nyssa began. “Where did we land to end this war? What portion of Ephemeron will forever be known as the final resting place of Titans?”

Athena’s answering grin was all lethal severity. “The plains of Theris, your grace. King Crestos and Queen Kassandra are evacuating their people as we speak, but it was the least inhabited, most easily defensible land we could find.”

“Excellent. And how long until our armies are ready to move out?”

“The Athenians are ready now. Contingents from our allied kingdoms will meet us there within the next twenty-four hours.”

“So how do we get Kronos to meet us there? Send up a smoke signal?” I mused.

“Oh he’ll come. He’s already on his way, if my suspicions prove correct,” Nyssa declared, in a tone that brooked no argument. A tone that sent a chill down my spine.

What did she suspect? Or, more accurately, who?

CHAPTER 42

Nyssa

It had only been an hour since bidding farewell to my two favourite fire-wielders, and yet I now found myself in a foreign land, on the back of a dragon, with the midday sun beating down upon what little pale skin was left exposed beneath my armour.

Velira sent a continuous stream of mental imagery so that I could have some idea of the landscape and how to best use it to our advantage — although, those were decisions I was more inclined to leave in the hands of our military strategists led by Athena.

Our job was to lead the aerial assault. Kronos had a flying beasty all of his own, described by Caelus as the product of a dragon fucking a bull at in the midnight hours.

Velira sniffed. A dragon would never.

I grinned and rubbed a palm over her sun-warmed scales — smooth, harder than diamond, and a flickering blue-tinged hue through the lens of a dragon.

Velira, you don’t even know how beautiful you are, I lamented.

She made a snorting, rasping sound, accompanied by a flicker of sapphire flames exiting her nostrils. I do so, thank you very much.

I responded by sending her a memory. A single snippet of her soaring over Aetherion, her violet scales catching the Olympian sun, sending scattered shards of amethyst light over various sections of the city beneath her.

She audibly preened — softly trilling as her shoulders wiggled in delight. You’re right. I am spectacular.

I snorted, latching the final plate of armour around her thick neck, latching the buckle beneath the lowest spine with practised ease.

How long do you think we have? she asked, radiating hostility.

Not long, if I’m correct.

Why didn’t you tell anyone what you suspected?