Page 84 of Blood of Olympus

“One hundred and seventy-eight innocent people died today.”

I did not shout, but they flinched at the words regardless.

“We stand on roads stained with blood. Where children once played, and now names of the lost live only in our throats.

“Speak of them. Speak of them often. Remind each other of those you have lost today. Let them live on in your memories and in each other.

“They did not deserve to die, and they do not deserve to be forgotten either.

“There are those who would shield you from the truth, lest you fall prey to it. I do not share that belief, and I hope your King does not either, for I will tell you that you have unwittingly become a battlefield in a war between gods.”

Gasps rang out. Mutterings began — words that would condemn us: their gods.

“Like Neros, Kronos has sought to use you, knock you over like a pawn on the chess board that is his war. He believes that your lives are the currency of surrender; that if he spends enough, we will all succumb to his rule.”

Hundreds of eyes bore into me — considering, weighing, measuring my words.

Those eyes widened as shock rippled through them like a wave — the crowns lay heavy upon my brow, augmenting my next statement.

“I swear to you that I will fight — forever if I must — to ensure you aren’t another tally for the pages of history. Upon the River Styx, I will fight for you until Atropos cleaves my thread.

“You are my people just as much as they are,” I said, indicating the gods at forefront. “While no ichor was spilled today, make no mistake: the blood of Olympus still fell. Because you are our power; our purpose; our lifeblood. Without you, we are nothing.”

But pretty words meant nothing unless actions backed them up. And so, I knelt. I speared Nightbreaker into the earth, wrapping black-stained fingers tightly around her hilt. I closed my eyes and dipped my chin.

“With the Fates as my witness, I pledge myself to you. To the people of Ephemeron, and the gods of Olympus. To the halflings, the creatures, the spirits. To the bonded, the broken, and the dead. I shall be your sword in this war against evil. I shall be your shield against those who would seek to oppress you. And I shall be your torch to guide the way in the dark times that await us.”

Thump.

My eyes snapped open.

Thump.

My brows creased.

Thump.

Emotion lodged itself in my throat.

One, and then more, and then many — fists against breastplates. Feet against stone. Swords against shields.

Faster and faster they pounded. Every last one. From civilians to soldiers to beasts.

All of them demonstrating the highest honour they could bestow.

“We stand with you,” Aros roared, his axe with its single flame held aloft. “Queen Nyssa!”

“Queen Nyssa!” they repeated, raising their weapons.

“Queen Nyssa,” Charon echoed, lifting a solitary fist that flickered in and out of view.

And as I joined them, as I held Nightbreaker high, they cheered.

And for the first time since the Crown chose me, it felt right. Like Fate hadn’t made a grievous error. Like I really could save them.

CHAPTER 22

Nyssa