Page 98 of Crown of Olympus
Reaching out, I plucked the surprisingly heavy source of light — and more importantly, heat — from his grip. Aros clutched his chest, gasping.
“Did you hear that?! The lady of death just thanked me!”
Caelus chuckled softly at his friend’s antics. I groaned and rolled my eyes.
“Let’s get going,” I said, stepping out onto the snowy plain and straight into the frigid wind. One hand bore the torch; the other shielded its struggling flame. It flickered and sputtered, fighting desperately against the same frozen temperate we were battling.
My teeth chattered painfully. My hands shook. And the torch was doing absolutely nothing to keep me warm.
Before I could complain, a warm cloak was gently draped around my shoulders. It immediately dulled the ache in mybones, blocking the wind, feeling like it had just been removed from a drying rack beside a hearthfire. Assuming it had come from Caelus, I turned left — only to see his pursed lips and still-cloaked shoulders. My head instead whipped right, to where Aros now walked with nothing but a white tunic and leather breeches, his sandaled toes covered in snow.
“Aros, I can’t take this. You’ll freeze!”
The god shot me his best shit-eating grin. “Flame-wielder, remember? My blood runs hotter than most.” He leaned in to whisper in my ear. “But you’re still the hottest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.”
The sound that came out of my mouth could only be described as a guffaw — inelegant, graceless, and as savage as a wild animal. But it was real.
Caelus and Aros were both powerless to resist my womanly charms, joining in with their own howls of laughter. The only thing that silenced us was a heartstoppingly lengthy sputtering of the flame — and the subsequent jolt of fear that we might have already failed.
Aros wiggled his fingers at the torch and it roared back to life, the flames burning higher and brighter than they had before. And somehow, as we trudged through the knee-deep field of snow, I, too, felt brighter than before. Lighter. Warmer.
No monsters greeted us on the plain.
No rain doused our flame.
No wind could snuff out our fire, not with Aros’ gift keeping it alight.
And not even groans or pleas could stop Aros from serenading us with his god-awful attempts at singing a bard’s ballad, one that chronicled a fire god ploughing his way across battlefields and ending up in the beds of pretty young maidens.
We simply plodded our way across — with Selene’s moon as our guide and footprints marking how far we had travelled —until we reached the base of a mountain. Hermes met us there, huffing and shivering, shifting from foot to foot. As soon as we reached him, he grabbed hold of our arms and whirled us back to the Parthenon.
Soundinglike the start of a bad joke: a manticore, a giant wolf, and a cat-sized dragon rushed at three shivering, snow-capped gods.
I scooped Velira up into my arms, scratching her head with relief. Her flame-filled belly warmed my arms, and her quiet hum echoed in my mind.
Hello, mine,she trilled.
Hello, Vel,I echoed.
She climbed up to her usual perch around my neck, her tail wrapping possessively around my upper arm as I surveyed the space.
Night had fallen. The sky was clear, moonlight silvering the marble. Selene glowed bright above us, with Astraeus’ twinkling stars surrounding her.
Aphrodite sat against a marble pillar, arms wrapped around her bent legs as she looked up at me in horror.
“Aph? What happened?” I asked, rushing across the room to sit in front of her.
“That was the most horrible thing ever,” she whispered. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?”
“Battle monsters.”
“Oh. Well. Self-preservation plays a big role in that…”
“It’s more than that though,” she argued. “You’re only in this because—” Aphrodite cut herself short. Curiously,I noticed Athena and Caelus both not-so-casually playing close attention. The only two within earshot.
That’s when it hit me. Aphrodite knew. Somehow, she knew about the prophecy too. Rage flooded hot under my skin.
