Page 170 of Crown of Olympus
Caelus loosed a bolt of violet lightning at his mother, striking her in the exact location she’d struck me. The only difference — Hera shrieked loudly, and I merely gritted my teeth in agonising silence.
“You’ll pay for that,son,” she sneered.
“There is an entire list of things you shall pay for before your end,Mother,” Caelus replied, stalking towards her as Vel kept a weakened Kronos at bay. “Starting with daring to lay a hand on your Queen.”
“She is no Queen of mine!” Hera spat.
“She can be Queen of Tartarus when I’m through,” Kronos seethed. “Or perhaps I shall erase her very existence entirely.” He glared at me through streams of golden fire. Raising his remaining arm, the limb melded back into a hand. He pressed thumb to middle finger.
“When we meet again, daughter of death,” he said, voice low and cryptic, “you will give me what I want… and then I shall end you for it.”
His fingers lifted — poised to snap.
“Wait! Take me with you!” Hera cried, racing towards him, cuffs clanging with every step.
Kronos considered her, eyes narrowed. Then he nodded once, raising an elbow in mock chivalry, and Hera latched on to him like her life depended on it.
And it did — the promise of murder was carved into every line on Caelus’ face.
Kronos snapped his fingers, loud as a crack of lightning. The pair disappeared between blinks.
A stilted breath slipped from my lungs as Nightbreaker clattered to the floor. I followed her down, collapsing beside my fallen friend. My heart broke all over again as I took him in. His beautiful, boyish face would age no more than thirty-three — a heartbeat in the span of a god’s life. His skin would never weather. His hair would never dull. He would never father children, never set out on adventures. He would never flash that dimpled smile or remind me to work on my footwork again. He would never win another round of Ferryman or laugh while I drunkenly serenaded a marble bust.
I clasped Charon’s still-warm face in my hands, my once-ice encased heart shattering into a million scattered pieces. I pressed a salty kiss to his dimpleless cheek, gold-tinged tears falling onto his beautiful face.
The fractured pieces of my heart turned to dust in my chest, drifting away on a phantom wind, as I registered the speck of flour still gracing the tip of his freckled nose.
Pancakes.
I’d fought the power drain for too long. My head hit the tiles with a crack, landing beside his. I lay still, staring at his sightless eyes, until the darkness claimed me.
As my vision faded to black, murmured conversation filtered through. Just before I slipped into oblivion, I caught one final word: a quiet, “Fuck.”
Epilogue
NYSSA
Glisteningtears poured down my cheeks as I stood — utterly and irreparably broken — on the landing dock of the Isle of Judgement. My legs threatened to buckle, knowingIhad chosen this. I had chosen to endurethisfate by refusing to sever my gilded thread.
A sob escaped my throat as the black, weathered boat came into view. Its cargo today: a piece of my heart. The faceless Ferryman inclined his head respectfully, bringing the vessel to a halt. His charge floated towards me, dimpled grin locked in place.
That damned smile almost ruined me beyond repair.
Charon’s ghostly figure stopped in front of me, his hand moving to brush away my tears. My grief ruptured anew when his fingers passed straight through my cheek; not even a wisp of sensation kissed my skin. Grief tore through me like a tsunami, breaking everything, leaving nothing whole.
“I can’t do this without you, Char,” I wept. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t bring you back.”
He pressed the ghost of a kiss tothe top of my head.
“I’d do it again,” he replied quietly. “Every second of this life was more than I had any right to — because of you.”
A sob escaped me.
“All the things I didn’t get to do or see or experience… they don’t matter, Nyss. The only thing I had left that mattered wasyou.”
“Char,” I cried, voice broken and wet, “If I don’t sentence you, then I don’t have to say goodbye.”
He laughed.
