Page 120 of Crown of Olympus
“Behold my trial! All you have to do is make it to shore. Navigate these cursed waters. Avoid the sea’s beasts, if you can — and you might survive. Fail, and the waters shall lay claim to you. You may not die from drowning, but there are some fates worse than death, champions,” the sea god seethed.
“I’ve got five hundred gold drachmas that says I make it to shore first!” Aros yelled across the deck.
“Make it a thousand!” Archimedes returned, grinning.
“I’ll take that bet,” I said, the challenge igniting something within me. I locked eyes with Aros, matched his competitive smirk, and — for the first time in days — felt lighter.
Apollo even cracked a quick smile despite the next wave battering down upon us. He dropped the rope he’d been tying, eliciting a roar of exasperation from Caelus — a direction I was pointedlynotlooking — and gestured quickly.
I’ll bet on the underdog, he signed, teasingly.
It stole a huff of laughter from my lips.
“I’m not sure any of us would say she’s the underdog,” Aros quipped.
“That’s for damn sure,” Caelus muttered.
I turned sharply, hands landing on my hips in a gesture I’d seen Lethe use a thousand times before delivering a scathing reprimand. I inhaled quickly, ready to confront the storm-wielder and hisdistance —when I heard it.
A single lingering note on the salty sea air.
It tickled something inside my mind, not unlike the twang of Fate’s threads. The note swelled delicately, folding into a chorus of ethereal harmonies. It danced like the waves, rising and falling in a hypnotic melody that drew us to the edge of the boat.
Apollo was the only god who did not move. His gaze swung around wildly in confusion.
What is it?he signed.
A melody,I gestured, itching to climb the rail, compelled to get closer, to learn where it came from.
His brows furrowed, lips curving down at the corners. He turned to the horizon, where a small dash of land had appeared from within the stormy blue sea. That was the source of the music, and I was driven by a relentless need to get there.
I had just moved to join the others on the railing when a firm arm hooked around my waist, dragging me down to the deck. My back slammed into the timber, and the air whooshed from my lungs as pain radiated from the impact.
“What the fuck?!” I cursed, looking up at golden eyes blazing with fury, the urge to climb the railing still riding me.
Sirens,Apollo signed.
Understanding doused my pain like a wave. I smacked my hands over my ears with a sharp slap. The song still trickled in, but its effects were less intense, and I could push through the fog blanketing my senses.
Aros, Caelus, and Archimedes wavered on the railing, rocking with the ship’s rhythm, entranced.
Apollo’s hands covered my own. A soft golden glow flowed from his warm, umber fingers. All at once, the song stopped. Whatever he had done had given me back full function of my mind and limbs.
“Thank you,” I said — only, no sound came out.
My brows quirked in confusion as I tried again. Still nothing.
It dawned on me: it wasn’t just my voice I could no longer hear, buteverythinghad gone eerily quiet. The waves still crashed against the ship and the wind still tore at my hair. But I couldn’t hear any of it.
My world had been silenced.
I reached up, tugging at my lobes. They didn’t feel any different. But then, Apollo’s deft fingers caught my attention as they formed shapes in the air.
I used a tangent of my power to remove your ability to hear,he signed.
I stifled a gasp, mourning the music I would no longer dance to.
It is temporary,he continued.Once I remove the block, your hearing will return. But for now, you are safe from the sirens.
