Page 184 of Blood of Olympus

Thump.

Dissent.

Thump.

A refusal to surrender.

Thump.

Velira lent me her eyes once more, and through them I saw Athena in all her spine-chilling regalia. Upon her head, her gold helm perched; upon her body, her intricately wrought golden armour protected every vital organ; and upon her face, the promise of violence shone brightly through her piercing blue eyes as she struck her xiphos — her shortsword — against her shield named Aegis.

Thump.

The warriors behind her echoed her wordless war-cry, striking their own swords against their own shields, or their feet against the compact earth.

Thump.

It was the sound of rebellion. Of resistance. Of the absolute knowledge that we would never lie down and surrender to a mad king.

Thump.

It was the sound of our beating hearts.

Thump.

Hearts that beat for each other. Hearts that beat for Ephemeron. Hearts that beat for Olympus. And hearts the beat for the Underworld, too.

Thump.

Hearts that beat for good.

For the hope of a better future.

Not for that bastard Titan. He could never inspire such steadfast loyalty; such unwavering resolve.

I had done that.

Me. The daughter of Hades.

I had inspired whole nations — whole realms — to band together. Not even Zeus had managed that.

And so I joined them. I raised Nightbreaker once more and called upon my powers. Life and Death heeded my call. Both raced to the surface of my mind and my skin — eager for battle, willing to follow me into the din of war, to whatever lay beyond.

And upon Velira’s back, we led the charge — diving headfirst into their ranks, armed with teeth and flame, dark and light, a sword that represented everything, and sheer, gutwrenching purpose.

“Hēmin pantōn!” I roared, slashing through the first soul I encountered, a black stain upon my field of white. The resistance was barely felt — a slight jolt in my arm — the momentum staying firmly with Vel. She ducked, dove, and wove through their army, targeting mostly the airborne foes, leaving the flightless to our allies.

“Hēmin pantōn!” they bellowed below as their spears held firm, their shield walls steady, and their swords cleaved through flesh as weak as our enemy’s resolve.

Hēmin pantōn.

For us all.

CHAPTER 45

Caelus

They were a thing of wonder, a sight to behold, a force to be reckoned with as they tore through the skies, obliterating foe after foe, causing the heavens to bleed. To rain down on us in sheets of black.