Page 20 of Crown of Olympus
Waiting.
The serpent lunged, snapping at the air inches before my face. I deflected its killing blow, my blade knocking its nose aside.
It hissed again, spittle coating my face in big, disgusting globules. I grimaced, backing up a few paces, attempting to keep distance between me and those forearm-sized fangs.
The ophis shimmied, seeming more irate than ever. It followed my footsteps as I continued back up the dune behind me, slithering slowly up the scalding sand.
Just as I crested the top, the serpent slithered free of its burrow.
I stared down in horror as a second fanged head rose to greet me — positioned precisely where its tail should be.
Not an ophis, then. An amphisbaena.
Wonderful.
Two glaring serpent heads rose high into the sky, each baring a set of deadly fangs coated in venom capable of turning my skin to stone. Its long, scaled body formed a semicircular shape that shimmied leisurely across the sand, pursuing me like it had all the time in the world.
I twirled my shadow blade, gritted my teeth, and waited for the perfect moment to strike. The left head pounced in the blink of an eye — and that was all the time it had. My sword punctured its right eye with a sickening squelch, drawing twin shrieks of pain. Both mouths squealed as the injured head flailed, offsetting the balance of the other. The amphisbaena tumbled back down the dune, coiling protectively in on itself. Its right head rose again, glaring, and snapped forward as I approached cautiously. Its body unravelled slightly, driving forwards.
This was it. My moment.
I darted sideways in a flash. The head flew past, jawssnapping shut on nothing but air, leaving its thick neck and serpentine body unguarded for the briefest second.
My shadow sword swung through the air with a quiet whistle, slicing through the creature’s mid-section with a dull thunk. Both heads once again shrieked as I hacked messily through its hide until I severed it in two.
The screeching ceased instantaneously. Both halves dropped lifelessly to the blood-soaked sand with a whoosh of dusty air.
I huffed a few quick breaths, barely believing what I’d just done.
There was no way Charon would ever believe me — amphisbaenas were extremely rare — save for the already drying crimson stains on my skin.
Gods did not bleed red. Creatures and mortals did — most of them. Some, the more grisly beings dripped black. A sure sign they hailed from the depths of Tartarus. Things found their way out every now and then.
I retraced my steps past the corpse, past the giant crater it left in the sand, and trudged up the next scarlet-coloured dune. I had been exhausted, frustrated, and dehydrated before — now I was drained and furious, my mouth as dry as the desert beneath my feet.
Halfway up the monstrous hill, the sound of shifting grains stopped me in my tracks. Wincing, I slowly rotated and peered over my shoulder and down at the giant, severed serpent. To my horror, the two halves were realigning, melding themselves back together, one piece of stringy flesh at a time.
I gagged, racing up the dune, knowing more than lunch would be on the creature’s minds now. Retribution had moved to the top of the menu.
I stole another glance and my stomach churned again. The serpent was once again whole, its heads facing each other,moving in an eerie unison. The right mouth opened wide, and the left head slipped calmly between its fangs. The right mouth closed gently, locking the left in, forming a complete circle with its body.
Its slitted pupils honed in on my form atop the sandy hill. They narrowed as the serpent began to roll forwards, looking like the creepiest fucking wheel I’d ever laid eyes on.
“Oh, fuck no,” I breathed, launching into a sprint. I made it to the bottom, in the valley between two enormous red dunes just as the serpent-wheel made entirely of nightmares crested the one I’d just bolted down.
Luck was not on my side today.
I knew the amphisbaena would pick up speed on its way down and race up the next side before I could make it to the top.
I sent up a prayer to whoever was listening — ironic, considering I was a god and we rarely listened — and threw my hands out before me, begging my shadows for help. They surged out, spurred on by the shade of the dune in front of me, forming a narrow archway just wide enough for me to leap sideways through.
I came out atop a distant sand drift, my footing lost to the force of the jump. My body tumbled down the slope, rapidly gaining speed as I ploughed downwards.
The scratch of sand touched every inch of exposed skin. I inhaled it, coughing and spluttering as I clenched my eyes shut, waiting to reach the bottom.
My back struck something rock solid, and I grunted as thatsomethingroared in unexpected agony. I dreaded opening my eyes. I did not particularly want to know what else was lurking in this devilish desert, considering the evil I was currently outrunning — or outrolling.
“What the fuck?!” yelled a familiar deep voice, though the pain-laced tenor was new.
