Page 45 of Crown of Olympus
Nyssa
A deep clangrang through the woods, and with it, the chilling realisation that I was dangerously close to failure.
Just one hour remained in the third trial.
One hour before I got my ass hauled back to the Underworld and doomed the realms as we knew them. I panicked, for the second time in as many hours. A cold vice clamped around my ribcage, my heart thundering within its confines. It was too loud, too fast, drowning out all logical thought.
With no one here to drag me out of the darkness this time, my mind spiralled.
Who was I to think I could bond a beast?
Who would want to be tethered to death?
Why did I have to sit on this throne?
Couldn’t someone else take the burden, just once?
A chorus of shrill screeches and snarls pierced the air, loud enough, unnerving enough, to give me pause. I froze, silently deliberating my options. There weren’t many. I was quickly running out of time.
Whatever had made that sound was surely monstrous — and therefore, a formidable ally. A good bondmate.
I took a deep breath, hardening my resolve. Dagger in hand, I crept towards the sound, my footsteps silent through the underbrush.
The copse of elms thinned as I neared the source of the cacophony. Foolishly, I had crept into a small clearing, realising far too late that it was already occupied. I’d walked right into a gigantic slaughterhouse in the form of a cornered hydra.
It was a horrifying creature with the enormous, scaled form of a dragon. At six feet tall, I barely reached its shoulders, and its tail was at least twice that in length. However, where a dragon possessed only one long, serpent-like neck, a hydra owned five.
And even more unfortunately, all five of its ugly heads were now viciously snapping at me.
Well, fuck.
Alright, beasty — let’s dance.
I’d have to bond with the hydra before it killed me. And it would certainly try.
“Care to tether yourself to death?” I called.
The creature screeched its defiance, and I wondered if I’d made a grievous mistake.
“Guess not.”
I cracked my neck and conjured a second shadow dagger — one now in each hand. The beast lunged immediately, swooping in with its two outermost heads. They swung in from either side in graceful arcs, attempting to catch me in the middle.
Instinct kicked in. I leapt backwards with no time to spare — just quick enough to avoid the snapping teeth aimed at my torso. I’d need to move faster than that. Charon would chew me out if he knew.
Bone cracked against bone with a sickening crunch as the heads collided right where I’d just stood. The hydra hissed, a combination of pain and fury. But I was nothing if not resourceful— while the heads were dazed and within reach, I drove both blades directly into each skull, straight down to the hilt.
A piercing roar ricocheted through my ears, but Charon himself had trained me. And my father had trained him — it would take more than ringing eardrums to make me falter.
Shadows coiled around my fingers as I twisted the knives in deeper. The hydra reared back, screeching, and I relinquished my weapons.
Thankfully, I was never without options.
Darkness once again stirred to my will, slithering over my pale skin like ink in water. It gathered in my right palm, swirling and melding until it solidified into a cold, black hilt. Shadows stretched higher, hardening into a slim metal blade about the length of my arm. I wrapped my fingers around the hilt of a sword. It was as sharp as midnight and hummed with the power of death.
The creature retaliated quickly. While I had conjured another weapon, it had struck out with a swipe of its powerful tail. I jumped over the limb easily — only to be struck by its taloned paw. Pain slashed down my shredded torso, and I felt a gush of warm blood pouring from the wound. I had no time to stop and assess the injury, so I shoved it forcibly from my mind. Compartmentalisation had always been one of my strengths.
This was no longer a demonstration of ferocity in an attempt to bond.
