Page 93 of Blood of Olympus

But they were right. I couldn’t fix this one.

“Fine, but I can at least help you work in peace,” I grunted, annoyed at my apparent lack of usefulness.

I threw my hands up, both in exasperation and in preparation of using whatever sway I held over the dearly departed.

Midnight burst free from my palms, blanketing the Isle in shadow. A few curious souls stopped to look, but the majority continued swirling, lost to the despairing depths of their displacement.

I felt Caelus leave my side, angling through the thicket of shades to the general area of the third arch. Out of my periphery, I saw lightning blaze to life in his hand — a bolt the length of a spear, as bright as the midday sun.

Hephaestus jolted at the sudden glow, then grinned through his thick, black beard. He dipped his head in thanks, then began jerkily hauling another broken black stone back towards the gateway. Arch rushed to help, and together, they hefted it into place.

“Halt,” I implored the whirling souls.

Several more ceased their assault — but not enough. They were but a few drops in the ocean of shades surrounding us.

The hungry creature inside me stirred, summoned by the depth of my need. She uncoiled lazily, grinning, gluttonous for the taste of a life.

Death blinked, and shades faltered.

“Pauó,” I commanded, my voice slipping into an eerie otherness, as Death lent her strength to mine.

The swirling mass halted. They trembled as our gaze touched on each of them, understanding instinctively that they were in danger. That some fates were worse than death, worse even than this perpetual state of existence.

We were on the cusp of devouring them — Death was starving.

Our head cocked to the side as two shades dared move, locking onto them with lethal precision. The fingers of my right hand jerked and tendrils of shadow burst forth, capturing them.

They squirmed and my face split into a feral grin — but I couldn’t decipher whether it was hers or mine. I didn’t care to, either.

My shadows dragged them closer. I watched in a trancelike state, as they fought against the strain of my bindings, frantic and desperate.

“Nyssa?” some far off voice called. Its tenor was familiar… but not urgent enough to break my focus.

My lips parted, jaw opening wide as the tendril pulled the first shade in. With a ravenous inhale, Death swallowed, gnawing heartily on what little sustenance the soul offered her. No sooner than she was done, did our eyes latch onto the second writhing figure.

My jaw opened again, readying⁠—

Until a sharp zap forced my eyes down. My hand hung limp by my thigh. Scarred fingers — the source of the shock — entwined with my own.

Nightshade, the voice spoke again, this time echoing around my mind — harder to ignore.

A warm touch caressed my cheek, and my face was tipped gently up. Silver, black-rimmed eyes consumed my field of vision, drowning out every other thought in a way that only they could. Caelus ran his thumb back and forth along my cheekbone, every pass bringing me closer to the surface.

He stilled and the sudden absence of sensation startled me out of Death’s reverie. I jerked as I became fully cognizant once more, blinking wildly at the juxtaposition. He began again, attempting to quell the rising swell of emotion that threatened to undo me.

The shades moved tentatively, and, realising they were unbound, frenzied anew.

What have I done?

Horror flooded me.

I ate an innocent.

My skin prickled, fingertips going icy, and my eyes grew so wide it almost hurt. I tried to step out of Caelus’ reassuring embrace — I didn’t deserve it — but he followed, disallowing my retreat.

“It’s okay, Nightshade,” he murmured.

It’s not.