Page 79 of Blood of Olympus

I pulled up, panting, my head whipping around to locate the oddly familiar apparition. I’d lost sight of it after being led around a blind corner, slamming into an oily, pot-bellied male who reeked of zythos if it had been left out to spoil in the sun.

The man grunted, landing firmly on his backside in the mud. He unleashed a creative string of curses, glaring as his words increased in volume — and unfortunately also in flecks of spittle.

I moved not an inch — though I did let a sliver of my power show.

The man floundered, scooting backwards before rolling to his feet and fleeing — his flat, mud-covered ass the last view of him I would ever see.

Sometimes there were advantages to possessing a power that revealed the skeleton beneath my skin when I wielded it. But my amusement faded quickly when I realised I’d lost the phantom for good.

Godling?

No darting black shapes lingered at the corners of my vision; no ghostly flickers left behind to guide me.

It’s nothing. I sighed. I’ll find my way back shortly.

I pivoted, intending to walk off the confusion and agitation plaguing me — and the mess I’d readily left behind — when I felt him.

No need — you have a personal guide.

So I see.

Caelus appeared between two buildings on the far end of the square. His eyes immediately found mine across the open space — without even needing to search, they just instinctively knew where to find me.

He had adapted to this bond much faster than I. Whether that was because he had known about it for months longer, or because he was the one to weave it into place, I couldn’t say. But I still had a lot to learn about it.

I joined him in the centre of the marketplace square, our presences slowly being noticed by those in attendance. Whispers and stares met us as we parted the sea of mortals like magic.

“Why did you run?” Caelus asked, voice pitched low, his words only meant for me. His brows were drawn, sweat running black down his bloodstained cheeks.

“I thought I saw something,” I murmured, allowing him to sweep me into his warm embrace. “I lost it, though.” I pulled back, realising I’d lost sight of something else today, too. “Did you see which way the serpent flew?”

Thankfully, he nodded. “Over the seas. East. Toward⁠—”

“Othryx,” I finished. “Tartarus, why didn’t we think to look there first?!”

He eyed me speculatively. “Honestly? Athena did think of it. Aros, too.”

“Well, why didn’t anyone think to include me in these deliberations?” I scowled, just barely reigning in the urge to stomp a foot.

“We intended to, Nightshade. The council meeting that was scheduled for this afternoon was supposed to be about just that.”

“But then Meloidia was attacked…” I looked skyward. Maybe the heavens had answers for me.

“Then Meloidia was attacked,” Caelus agreed. Changing tactics, he asked, “What was it you thought you saw? It’s not the first time you’ve been able to see something I haven’t and immediately dismissed it.”

I bit my lip, mindful of the crowd that had gathered to view us like great works of art — or animals in an enclosure.

“Go to your homes!” I growled at them, scattering the closest few. “Ensure your loved ones are there. The Dayspire and eastern third of Aurelia have been attacked by a horde of monsters sent from Tartarus itself.”

“You mean sent by you?!” one called — an elderly man sporting a long white beard and tatters for robes. “I know you, daughter of Hades,” he seethed. “I remember what your father was once capable of — what you are capable of — and we do not worship your kin here.”

Gasps rang out from the surrounding crowd. No one dared to address a god that way and expect to escape unscathed.

Especially not Hades.

I straightened to my full height, an entire foot above the man, and approached slowly. One silent step at a time.

He swallowed audibly but his eyes did not surrender.