Page 29 of Blood of Olympus

Well? I asked.

The chamber was so silent a pin drop could be heard, each of us eagerly awaiting her assessment. For several minutes, the only thing that breathed was the wind.

Finally, she spoke: I detect no poison⁠—

Knew it.

—But it does taste strange, continuing as if I hadn't interrupted. It tastes like… sorrow. Like melancholy mixed with aniseed.

I relayed her evaluation to the still-shaking god, who appeared brave enough to peer at her through one cracked eyelid. He straightened with a sigh of relief, a hesitant grin dimpling his chin.

“You’re right,” he said to Velira. “But that’s not what I’d intended.”

“What did you intend?” Caelus inquired from my left.

“I was trying to infuse them with the addictive, bubbling sensation of anticipation… the quiet hum of pride. But every time I try to coax my magic out, it backfires — usually to the tune of sorrow.”

Perhaps, it is not the fault of magic, but of the mind, Velira offered.

Dionysus’ face fell when I passed on her message, morosely accepting her counsel.

“Yes, perhaps you’re right,” he murmured.

I waited until he wandered back to the rest of the members of the Xifos tis Moiras — the self-proclaimed Sword of Fate — then addressed the room at large.

“You might all be wondering why you’re still here — or why you’ve been summoned. Each of you are being offered a seat on my council… A chance to help shape not only this realm, but also Ephemeron, the realm of mortals.” I said, dread tempering my tone. I glanced at Caelus, doubting any of them would like what I said next. “Last night, the Fates visited my dreams.”

Apollo straightened. He, more than any, knew how tolling a nudge from Fate could be.

What did they tell you? he asked.

Grimacing, I launched into a brief summary of my nightmare, ending with a recitation of their bone-chilling song.

“One vanished, one tethered, one tortured.

Two sundered, re-bound, reinforced.

Five surrendered,

Four unaltered,

Three protected,

Two defended,

One left to be slaughtered.”

“What does that even mean?” Hermes whined when I’d finished.

It means, Apollo signed, that Fate is warning us. He eyed the god of thieves intently. And we had better heed it.

I nodded, my hand brushing Caelus’ — seeking the smallest measure of comfort I could presently find. “We believe the sisters were referring to their trial.”

Caelus stepped forward, his eyes sparking, ready to etch the words into the marble floor.

“Stop!” Athena shouted, launching to her feet. She tutted at him. “Why are men always so quick to destroy beautiful things?”

Aphrodite and Hestia chuckled while Athena raised her hands like the conductor of a great symphony.