Page 125 of Crown of Olympus
It took every ounce of godly strength I possessed to hold onto that sail rope. I threw my entire weight into holding it down, but it still wasn’t enough.
It slipped, the friction igniting my palms. And then that same beautifully scarred hand wrapped around the rope above mine. Caelus’ body covered my own, somehow managing to hold the rope in one hand while coaxing storms with the other.
The ship finally levelled out as the swirling abyss loosenedits hold. I let go, wincing as the burns on my palms flared, folding in half, clamouring for air.
I allowed myself ten full seconds to reset. Ten seconds to catch my breath and lock my emotions deep down within me. Emotions would get me killed today if I didn’t have a hold on them. I couldn’t afford to lose myself worrying about the whereabouts of a certain storm-wielder, or the fact that I’d been craving his presence like a drug for the last two weeks. I couldn’t afford to linger in his arms, inhaling that sweet, caramel scent.
And I definitely could not afford to drop my mask in a trial set by a Primal who wanted me dead.
I straightened, instantly regretting it.
The ship was now caught, drifting between the two jagged cliff faces, rising higher than I could see from the deck. Barely a shoulder’s width separated us from the rocks on either side.
Arch, still manning the helm, had one hell of a challenge before him.
Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Not even a whisper.
The god of craftsmanship clenched the wheel so tightly his knuckles had turned white, inching it from side to side. The ship scraped against the left rock face with a low, grumbling rasp. The sound of splintering boards echoed through the cavern, the vibration rattling up through the soles of my feet.
Arch winced. “Sorry.”
He was answered by a chilling shriek that ended in a hiss.
My blood ran cold.
Scylla.
“Weapons!” I shouted, signing the warning to Apollo as I unsheathed Nightbreaker from her scabbard on my back. Shadows flickered to life along the blade, inky black serpents twining around the gleaming steel. The other champions followed suit — Arch and Caelus drawing their own swords,Aros brandishing his double-headed axe, and Apollo nocking his golden bow.
I counted six heartbeats before she struck.
An enormous, scaly head lunged down from the cliff top. Its neck was unfathomably long and disgustingly serpent-like. It struck the balustrade where Aros had stood a moment earlier, but he rolled clear just in time. Apollo loosed his arrow, but the serpent was impossibly fast, dodging the strike with another eerie shriek.
I guess the legends never mentioned the part where she had a snake’s head.
Another strike came, this time with a second head in tow.
Two heads?
Aros was ready though. His axe came down hard, severing one neck in a single stroke. Black blood sprayed across his face as the head rolled away. From somewhere above, Scylla screamed in agony.
A wave of dread washed over me.
Aros had only managed to enrage her.
“Nyssa!” Caelus roared, lunging toward me — too late.
A cry tore from my throat as razor-sharp fangs closed around my midsection. Nightbreaker stayed clutched uselessly in my immovable hand, deep within the serpents' maw. I was almost defenceless as Scylla yanked me off the deck.
My shadows flared, blinding the beastly head just as a gilded arrow pierced its right eye.
The serpent dropped me, screeching, and I hit the deck with a resounding crack. The rotting floor gave way, splintering around my foot, wedging my boot in tight. I yanked repeatedly, but it was no use.
I was stuck.
A second, much heavier thud dropped down beside me, rocking the boat so violently that water sloshed over its edgesand the prow careened into the right cliff face, splintering off. I froze, preservational instincts kicking in.
Slowly, I lifted my head to witness absolute chaos.
