Page 121 of Crown of Olympus
A spray of water painted my skin like freckles, and I frowned, caught between the phantom sensation of touch without sound and the oppressive weight of the silence.
A second splash followed the first.
Then a third.
I knew before turning that three splashes would not bode well. I twisted my neck, and sure enough — three splashes, in this instance, meant three hapless gods leaping overboard in a desperate attempt to reach the siren’s island.
I loosed an exasperated sigh, ignoring the fact that I would have dived right in beside them if Apollo hadn’t intervened. Bracing my thighs against the balustrade, I uncoiled the darkness within me, shaping it into an ink-black rope. With a flick of my wrist, I twirled it above my head and lassoed the floundering shape of Archimedes, who was closest.
Apparently, swimming was not one of his many strengths.
With a silent heave, I dragged him back toward the boat, where Apollo had fashioned a giant net from stands of pure sunlight to scoop up the dripping god.
Arch’s face was pure devastation as he fought desperately to get back in.
Apollo leaned forward and clapped his hands over Arch’s ears. This time, I saw the golden bubble pulse from his palms before it faded, clarity washing over Archimedes’ features.
I left Apollo to his explaining while I attempted to hook another god-sized fish from this deathtrap of an ocean.
Just as I looped the shadow rope under Caelus’ arms, a glimmer of movement beneath the water caught my eye. I paused, eyes darting around the churning waves, trying to make sense of what I’d seen. Caelus thrashed, fighting the rope, his gaze fixed on that cursed island.
Again, a flash of green scales flitted through the sea.
Panic surged through. I yanked hard on the rope, reeling him in as fast as I could manage. A second pair of hands grasped the line behind me — Arch. A quick glance confirmed it. Apollo stood ready to scoop Caelus from the sea like a giant ladle in an overly salty sea soup.
I kept wrenching and dragging the waterlogged god as the ocean churned beneath him — a giant set of maws closing in fast.
I had seconds. Maybe less.
The ocean’s surface broke with a roar. A disgustingly large serpentine head emerged, its long needle-like teeth snapping at the air where Caelus had been a second prior. But there was no time to catch my breath, no time to acknowledge the idiot of a storm-wielder sprawled on the deck beside me, because the serpent had turned its attention elsewhere: the other fool of a god still in the creature’s domain, crashing his way through the surf.
Aros.
Oblivious, he ploughed forwards. He was roughly three-quarters of the way to the island now, little more than a speck of red in the distance. Well beyond the reach of my shadowy lasso.
I don’t know what to do!
I exchanged panicked glances with the gods beside me, none of us able to do anything but watch. Aros cut through thewater, blissfully ignorant to the danger he was in — the lure of the siren song wrapped too thickly around him.
He did not see the sky darken or the shadow of the beast behind him.
My grip on the railing tightened. I opened my mouth to shout, to warn him, but even if he could’ve heard…
The serpent struck. It exploded from the sea in a spray of foam and scales. A blur of green lunged from the depths, its fangs snapping closed around Aros mid-stroke. His head twisted, our eyes meeting just as the beast’s monstrous jaws shut.
His face contorted — not in his usual haughty defiance, but in raw horror. He realised, just as I did, that this time… the god of war would lose the battle.
Aros opened his mouth in a soundless scream as the beast dragged him under.
He was gone.
Just gone.
Nothing but bubbles and a flash of red beneath the waves.
My knees buckled. I collapsed, crying out soundlessly in despair — but instead of crashing into the worn wooden deck, a pair of wet, muscular arms caught me.
I was too lost in the fresh stab of grief to care who they belonged to. I didn’t care that I’d been furious at him an hour before, and I didn’t care that he was grieving too.
