Page 73 of Blood of Olympus

My soul-bonded.

My heart-bound.

My everything.

I unleashed Death herself. Bones became visible beneath my transparent skin, darkness bleeding from my pores. It encircled the ocean of sable creatures and the army who fought them, ensnaring every soul who was caught between my wrath and my love.

His eyes, lit from within against the backdrop of black, snapped to mine as we hovered above the city-turned battlefield.

A breath snatched in my throat as I realised exactly how many souls I held in the grasp of my power — and how many I didn’t.

I released the magic as easily as exhaling.

What’s wrong? Vel asked.

The creatures possess no soul, I confessed, concern now lacing my ire. I cannot defeat them with magic.

Teeth and steel it is then, she snarled back, landing with a roar atop a squirming mass of black.

I leapt from her back in a tempest of dark fury, my shadows both catching and shrouding me as I moved. Using it to my advantage, I cleaved Nightbreaker through thickets of scaled bodies, assaulting them from that which they dismissed — the darkness.

I relished their serrated cries of pain, and laughed as, one by one, they fell silent altogether.

The heat of Velira’s flames warmed my back, the bright flashes of violet guiding me forward.

In no time at all, it felt like I was once again in the arms of my love, our enormous companions shielding us for a brief moment of respite.

“You’re late,” Caelus remarked, the whites of his teeth flashing through the blackened gore of his bloodstained face.

I struck down an errant serpent-creature with a grin, explaining, “Aros was too busy rousing warriors with glorious speeches.”

The flicker of immense confusion that filtered through the soul-bond gave me entirely too much joy.

“I’ll explain later,” I shouted, severing another scaled head from another writhing neck. “What are these things? And where did they come from?”

Ceraunos sliced through the air with a faint whistle as Caelus cleaved another monster in half. “As best I can tell, they’re miniature amphisbaena,” he grunted, electrifying the unfortunate serpent who had made the incredibly unwise decision to sink its fangs into the god of lightning’s thigh.

Sure enough, a second head emerged from the whirling smoke, attached to its body where the first’s tail should be.

“Ugh, I swore off these beasts after Apollo’s trial,” I scowled.

Caelus’ dual-toned irises met mine briefly over the snarling mass he was battling. “I’ve got bad news and worse news, then.”

I ducked under Vel’s snapping maw, spearing my sword into the gaping mouth of yet another serpent.

“What’s the bad?”

“They’re all amphisbaena. At least a hundred, by my guess.”

I grimaced, decapitating the dim-witted beast who’d thought to lunge for Lykos’ left flank.

“And the worse?”

A horrendous screech rent the air, followed by a second, sharper echo.

I followed Caelus’ line of sight to the partly-visible frame of the Dayspire. Coiled around its peak and braided through its broken windows, was a gigantic serpentine body. So much thicker and darker than its desert counterpart, this mass of murky black scales ended in a dragon-sized head at either end of its sinuous body.

The creature simultaneously strangled the temple spire and snapped at every attack thrown its way. Nothing was able to pierce its natural armour, and it moved too fast for strikes to its eyes or open mouths to land successfully.