Page 145 of Crown of Olympus
An exit for a truth.
“The Crown Selection ceremony will begin at sundowntomorrow. Don’t be late,” she trilled as Arch hobbled through the opening.
The second he passed through, his wounds vanished completely, as if they’d never been there at all.
Well, at least we have that to look forward to, I thought as the mirror sealed shut again, encircling us in its gleaming cage.
Hera stalked the perimeter, idly twirling her locket between her fingers. Somehow, she remained unaffected by the mysterious power of the mirrors.
Distracted, I didn’t notice my father’s move to strike.
I screamed as if I’d been skewered, sinking to my knees in agony —but when I looked down, nothing protruded from my thigh. Just a wound, eerily similar to Arch’s. My gaze flicked up, and locked with Hades’ unsettling black irises. He twirled a spear made of shadows, ensuring I saw it before he let it dissolve into nothingness.
Caelus crouched beside me and pressed a hand firmly to the wound, stemming the flow of gold — but he was bleeding just as badly from his own thigh.
“This is useless!” I yelled, aggrieved at the futility of it all. “What use are our secrets to you?!” I hurled the words at Hera, who only smiled — sharp and menacing.
“Why, child — were you not yet aware?” she cooed. “Secrets are the true currency of the realms.” Her grin turned mocking, and Caelus’ fingers dug harder into my leg at the sight. “The wealthiest are not those with piles of gold, but those who own the most secrets. And who know precisely how to wield them to their own advantage.”
“This is ridiculous, Mother,” Caelus spat. “You have no right to her secret — or anyone else’s.”
Hera’s glare could rival Hades’.
“Oh, but I do, son. That is the trial,” she snapped. “Give me your darkest secret and go forth for Crown Selection — or don’t. See what the mirrors make of you then.”
Apollo broke next, buying us a little more time. He looked only at me as his fingers spelled out his hidden truth.
Your prophecy was mine, he began.It was I who had the vision; I who wrote the words; I who set you on this path.
He broke eye contact, bowing his head in shame.
“You?!” Hera screeched. We collectively ignored her.
I waited until Apollo looked up again before replying silently.
None of this is your fault. Whether you wrote the words or not, these things were always going to happen. We were always going to end up here. But you know I have to win — that I have to be selected?
He nodded.
The realms depend on it,Apollo replied.We are all relying on you to save us.His eyes flicked to Caelus.Both of you.
It was Caelus’ turn to nod, a message passing between their meaningful stares that I had no hope of deciphering.
Hera shrieked, “Youare the reason my husband went and murdered the Furies-damned Spring princess?!”
Apollo shot her a withering glare before turning back to me.
Yes. It was my words that killed your mother, Nyssa.
“No,” I breathed, shaking my head vehemently. “No, it was Zeus.”
He acted on my words, child.
“No!” I yelled — so loudly that Caelus flinched beside me. “They might have been your words, Apollo, but Zeus retained agency over his own actions. He murdered her all on his own. Accidentally, maybe — in an effort to get to me?—”
“What?!” Caelus exploded. “What does that mean?!”
My gaze clashed with his.
