Page 92 of Blood of Olympus

Instead, a thick, grey cloud ensconced the island, rendering it indistinguishable from its midnight backdrop. The cloud swirled and thundered, its clamour ebbing and flowing in waves. The longer I stared, the more my horror grew — for that was no thundercloud, but a tempest of displaced souls.

“Arch,” I whispered. “Hephaestus.” I met Caelus’ eyes, my fear mirrored in his own. “Wait, you can see them?”

He nodded slowly, turning back to the Isle. “Charon showed me how.”

“Ever the master of perfect timing,” I muttered. “Pity he’s absent now.”

“Maybe he’s not,” Caelus considered, staring pointedly at the Isle.

Dread crept its way along my limbs as frost creeps across a window.

“Do you think Arch and Heph can feel them yet?” he asked, fingers splaying by his sides. Lightning flickered in the spaces between them, belying the agitation he was so thoroughly trying to conceal.

With little more than a flick of my wrist, a shadowgate opened to our left. The wailing traversed the nothingness between places, amplified by the magic of the portal.

“Only one way to find out,” I murmured, extending my hand.

Caelus looped his warm fingers through my own, brushing his thumb tenderly across my skin and joined me at the threshold of the gate.

I looked over at the triple-headed guardian, laying with all three heads resting on two crossed forelegs, morosely keeping eyes on the Isle.

“Good boys,” I told them. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

His tail thumped happily on the ground at the praise.

I squeezed Caelus’ hand thrice — and then we stepped through.

CHAPTER 25

Nyssa

The swirling vortex of souls was ten times louder on the centre of the Isle. Darker, too.

Archimedes and Hephaestus crouched against the ruins of the third gateway, bracing against a storm they could not see. Gale force winds assaulted their every move as their limbs strained to finish the mammoth task I’d set them.

Neither heard us approach or even deigned to glance our way.

When I reached out to clasp Arch’s shoulder, he jerked, whirling faster than I’d anticipated, and smacked my wrist away.

“Nyssa?!” He recoiled, eyes going so wide I feared for their tenancy in his head. “Fuck, sorry! I didn’t see you there!” he yelled over the howling wails.

“My fault!” I called back. My brows furrowed, taking in his bedraggled clothing and the purple smudges colouring the skin beneath his eyes. A quick glance confirmed his father was in a similar state of disarray.

“When did you last sleep?” I asked, unease softening my voice a little too noticeably.

Arch crossed his dust-covered arms then opened his mouth to respond. Before the words could make it past his teeth, however, a fresh wave of vociferous souls shoved us backwards.

The Isle swarmed with the displaced. There were too many vying for attention, too many clamouring for rest — and it was only a matter of time before the living joined them.

The longer Hephaestus and Archimedes remained here, working, the more likely it was that they’d be swept into the Styx.

“I know that look, Nyssa,” he scolded. “Don’t shoulder this too. My pa and I are the only ones who can fix this mess.”

I groaned, hating that I was the cause of it.

“You know he’s right,” Caelus agreed.

Trepidation reared its ugly head, souring my mood. It demanded I do all, be all, for everyone, all of the time. My fingernails dug crescent-shaped gouges in my palms as I clenched them, staving off the acceptance that they were right.