Page 76 of Blood of Olympus

Inhale.

The beast’s fanged mouth lurched in from the level above. Its snarl reverberated off what was left of the walls; its breath tainting the air with fumes of rotting meat and decay.

Exhale.

Twist, pivot, strike. Just as Charon would.

The satisfying squelch of steel meeting flesh accosted my ears, overpowered only by the beast’s subsequent cry. It writhed so forcefully, I was knocked airborne for a second time. Flung out an open window, I had only the presence of mind to keep hold of my weapon, grateful to have done so when the serpent dove out after me.

Its thick, inky blood splattered my face, tasting of ash as it coated my tongue. Its saliva hit next, making my gorge rise as quickly as my sword did.

Its maw clamped shut on Nightbreaker’s length, impaled by its own desperate desire to kill, as the ground rapidly approached. The beast screeched again, and I stole the opportunity to remove the sword along with my now-freed hand, just as a set of talons closed around my ribs.

Gravity dragged me down as Velira soared upwards, sparing me the pain of a crash landing.

I twisted in her grip, eager to see the serpent crash — but as my luck would have it, the beast did not plunge into the ground. A great set of scaled wings unfolded from its back, delicately hidden in plain sight amongst the countless black plates coating its body.

With a sharp burst, the wings snapped open, saving the creature from certain death. Its charred head hung uselessly where its tail should be, the other maw dripping rivulets of oozy blood onto the battlefield below.

Shrieking one last time, the amphisbaena banked right and flapped higher into the sky.

I shuddered at the sight.

There was something inherently disgusting about a double-headed serpent with wings.

Vel roared, relenting. The beast would live to see another day.

Looking up, I could see that her right leg was now entirely stone. I estimated we had an hour at most before the venom worked its way through her entire body. She glided down to the earth slowly, and it was only once we were close that I realised⁠—

Vel, be careful how you land⁠—

I know, she snapped, pain lining the snarl echoing through my mind.

Drop me.

She did so without hesitation — which might have offended me any other day, but I was too consumed with the thought of how badly a rough landing might permanently maim her.

Shadows bracketed my landing, and I rushed to hurl them at her as well. They wrapped around her affected limb, cushioning the impact as taloned toes met the cobblestone road.

“Fetch me Apollo!” I yelled, hearing multiple pairs of feet launch into action. I ran to my dragon, pulling up short when she snarled.

Her body language screamed pain and danger.

Lilac, leathery wings enveloped her in a sort of cocoon, protecting her from further harm and further scrutiny. Her serpentine pupils were slitted, smoke exiting her nostrils in rapid bursts.

“Vel, it’s me,” I intoned, creeping ever closer.

She snarled again, sensing danger everywhere.

The sound of hasty steps thudded behind me and I hastily threw out an arm to stop Apollo’s approach — just in time, too, for Vel snapped at the space he would have occupied had I not succeeded. She shrieked, jerking backwards, keening at the sky.

“Vel,” I tried again. “You have to let us close. Apollo can heal you. He did it for me, once.”

Her large golden eyes blinked rapidly in response. The whine petered out.

Hurry, she moaned, lifting a wing to expose the petrified leg — now fully encased from talon to hip.

Apollo’s gaze flicked to me in question. I nodded once and he darted forwards, mindless of the dragon who had attempted to eat him just moments ago. He placed one hand upon her hide, calling on his incredible power. A golden glow gleamed beneath his palm, matching the bright hue of his eyes as the magic worked to reverse the effects of the venom.