Page 162 of Crown of Olympus
I dropped everything else, forgot everything else.
Gasps of relief tore through the Parthenon, but I ignored them.
Concentrating solely on that wondrous bright speck in the cosmos, I dragged him back to me, one agonising breath at a time. Caelus, in his purest form, seemed to reach towards me. His soul grasped at the tendrils of death like they were lifelines, like he would seize any piece of me, no matter what form I took.
But he was still so far away. I could feel the strain of holding him begin to sap my powers and ignite a fierce ache in my bones.
I wrenched harder, and he came a little closer as my power drained further.
I pulled again, but this time I met resistance in the very fabric of the realm. Fate, or balance, or whatever it was that kept the three realms separate, did not condone this.
“No! You will not take him!” I roared into the faceless abyss.
Charon yanked at my torso, pulling me back.
“NO!”
“Nyssa! You’re bleeding!” He bellowed, and suddenly I could feel the steady streams of ichor running from my nostrils, my ears, my eyes.
It did not matter. I would not stop.
I would not give up on Caelus to save myself. I’d rather join him in the afterlife.
With both hands raised and shadows wrapped around my arms, I reefed on the tendrils. I screamed my dissent at whatever was holding him back, ichor gushing from my nose into my mouth. I didn’t care about the sickly sweet taste coating my tongue, choking me — or that my arms felt like they were being torn from my body. I would gladly sacrifice every part of myself for him.
His soul slowly drew closer. So close, I could almost make out his beautiful features within the orb of light — his soul. We were steadily winning the metaphorical game of tug-of-war against the realms.
“Nyssa, you have to let him go!” Charon cried, devastation thickening his voice.
The floor shuddered. Pillars creaked.
One more. Just one more.
I burrowed deep within myself, scraping every last reserve of power. And as I emptied the well within me, I stumbled upon a sphere of light hidden right at the bottom. I grasped that too, pulling it up, feeling its unusually purelightness, and I tossed it in with the remnants of death.
Screaming, I gave Caelus’ soul one last roaring wrench, and just like a scrap of parchment, the fabric of the realms tore open. A single split in the sky pulsed and flickered as his soul came careening towards me.
Just before it could tangle with mine, I thrust it down intohis body. A burst of brilliant white light flashed beneath his pale skin.
And I collapsed. Drained.
Olympus trembled.
Without Charon holding me up, I’d have flopped listlessly to the tiles beside Caelus’ unmoving body. My powers had completely dried up. Not even a flicker stirred within me. I knew I should be worried, but I wasn’t. I could only stare, unbreathing, at Caelus.
He did not stir. And I could no longer see his soul; could no longer feel it.
It was gone.
“It didn’t work,” I sobbed into Charon’s arms.
I’m so sorry, little one,Velira mourned into my mind.
“Shh,” Charon soothed, running a hand over my hair. “I know. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
The ominous rift in the sky pulsed brightly, and Olympus shivered violently. Pillars cracked. Gods screamed. Parts of the ceiling crashed to the floor with a dusty boom.
Hephaestus alone approached the tear and inspected it keenly.
