Page 51 of Crown of Olympus
And then there was the secondary problem — the shade that kept skirting around my periphery. It taunted me, always moving when I tried to look directly at it. I didn’t think anyone else could see it. No one had reacted to its presence. And it whispered to me. Awful things. Sometimes, they were all I could hear.
“You weren’t enough for me — why should you be enough forthe crown?”
“You can’t even control your own power. I see how it consumes you.”
“Daughter of death, always a disappointment.”
My dragon let out a woeful wail. She let go of my hair and glided to the floor. Our bond was faint now, the venom consuming even that small semblance of comfort. My strength finally gave out and I dropped down beside her, reaching out a bloodied hand. She nuzzled into it immediately. It seemed she needed the contact as much as I did.
I was startled to realise my touch wasn’t harming her. Was it the bond? Did she have impenetrable scales? Or was I simply drained of power?
Another flare of fiery pain engulfed me, and all thought ceased to exist, devoured byagony.
Vaguely, I was aware of Charon scooping me into his arms. I leaned in, stealing comfort wherever I could, as he carried me into another room of the palace.
“Don’t touch my skin,” I whimpered.
“I know,” he said gently.
“It hurts, Char,” I sobbed into his chest.
“I know, Nyss. I know. But I’m going to fix this.” His tone left no room for doubt.
“Your life is futile. Your end will be just as dramatic as mine,”the shade breathed into my ear.
The world drifted away.
All I knew was pain, heat, and failure.
I tried to wade through the haze clouding my mind, but my eyes refused to open and my hearing faded into muffled obscurity. Indistinct sounds trickled in, stifled and smothered, like I was underwater. I couldn’t make sense of anything.
Every breath felt like trudging through tar.
Everything was heavy — my limbs, my lashes, my thoughts. All of it trying desperately to pull me under. Back to the comfort and familiarity of darkness.
The urge to let go was almost impossible to resist.
A soft hiss filtered through the sludge — steady, flowing, almost hypnotic. Dimly, I realised it was a faucet. Soft steam kissed my face. Charon’s presence shifted as he gently lowered me down. Warm water caressed every inch of skin, rising to my stinging collarbone.
The hissing ceased.
“You’re going to be okay, Nyssa,” he said resolutely. “I will not allow any other alternative.”
I felt his presence retreating and whimpered at the sudden loss.
“I’ll be right back. I’m leaving you in the bathtub with that dragon. Just for a few minutes, okay?” His voice was reassuring, though tinged with melancholy.
I managed a small nod. And then he was gone.
Waves of pain still rolled through my body, but the warm water somewhat lessened their intensity.
At some point, I managed to crack my eyelids open. A symphony of colours blurred and spun together. I blinked repeatedly, trying to clear the kaleidoscope from my vision, but all I could see were shades of violet and gold.
Dragon.
The word bounced around in my hazy mind.
Her bright golden eyes stared at me intensely, unblinking — as though I might disappear if she looked away for even a moment. She was balancing on the edge of the bath, still as stone, as close as she could get without sitting on top of my head.
