Page 46 of Crown of Olympus
This had become a battle for survival.
The hydra snapped again, but this time I sank my blade deep into the neck of its attacking head. Dodging the remaining four, I cleaved my sword straight through the sinewy tissue. Hot blood sprayed across my face and the taste of acid filled my mouth. I retched until the severed head finallydropped to the earth with a dull thud, rolling several paces away.
Howls of agony pierced the air as the headless stump waved and swayed. It reminded me of the way the amphisbaena’s body continued to slither even after being cut in two.
To my horror, the gory appendage began to bubble and hiss like an over-boiled pot. The creature’s murky scales rippled and twitched, glistening with black blood. My eyes widened as the wound split in two. Flesh unravelled, like blooming petals, twisting and writhing as two new heads emerged — slightly smaller than the others, but no less ferocious. On the contrary, the hydra now seemed even more determined to rip me apart.
I tightened my grip on the sword.
Wonderful.
It lunged, heads striking from all directions, jaws crunching with bone-shattering force. I dodged the first, spun past another, heart hammering as I fought for an opening. I needed to avoid its fangs at all costs. Hydra venom had been known to kill demigods. I didn’t want to find out what it could do to a full-blooded one.
Countering each snap of its jaws with a strike of my own, I sliced into its thick, scaly hide. But the damage was minimal and I was doing more to enrage the beast than to maim it.
As our deadly dance continued — blow and counterblow — the hydra sidestepped revealing a flicker of violet weaving through the shadows behind it. Curiosity split my focus, and I paid the price in flesh.
Once again, the beast struck true.
I stumbled backwards, glancing down. It had taken a good chunk from my right thigh. My femur was visible through the gilded gore, and the searing pain threatened to undo me.
Suddenly, a tiny shriek sounded from close by. So at odds with the hydra’s deep bellow, I knew it hadn’t come from the enormous beast before me. The small sound, thankfully, hadstolen the hydra’s attention too. All six heads whipped around, snapping at something to its rear.
A flash of shimmering purple scales darted between the hydra’s hind legs, drawing its gaze from my battered body.
Duck, twist, pivot —
The tiny creature evaded every crunch of a jaw, every stomp of a paw. Until it didn’t.
The hydra’s tail whipped around, impossibly fast, and swatted the small, violet-hued body of a dragon into the trunk of an elm. The dragon crumpled to the dirt and did not move again.
The hydra lunged to swallow her whole, but I launched my broken frame between them, startling the beast into a pause.
“No,” I snarled.
I would not — could not — let the tiny dragon paymyprice. I would not be the cause of another soul sent prematurely into the afterlife.
Never again.
“You will not eat her.”
Rage surged through me like an avalanche. Darkness erupted.
With half a thought, I wove shadows through the air and slashed into the beast. A deep gash appeared across its chest. Another tore through its tail.
The heads reared back in an agonised howl, in a rare moment of synchronicity. I dove beneath its belly, groaning as I landed on my ruined leg. Roaring, I stabbed upwards, driving my sword deep into the softer flesh. The impact jolted my arms and rattled my teeth, but still I forced the blade deeper. Blackened blood gushed over my face, stinging my eyes. I blinked but could not see.
Luckily, I was born to darkness. Ithrivedin it. So, I cast my awareness into my remaining senses. I heard the beast howling, the wet squelch of its flesh being carved apart. I felt the warmthof its blood running down my fingers, sharply contrasted by the icy bite of the metal hilt clenched in my fists — and finally, the satisfying give of the hydra’s heart. My blade struck true. One last, deafening chorus of screeches rent the air and the hydra convulsed around my sword. Its many heads wailed and thrashed until it collapsed beside me with an echoing boom.
The forest fell silent.
Breathless, I sat up and wiped at my eyes, gagging at the acrid stench. With my vision hazy but manageable, I stood slowly and limped over to the still form of the dragon.
Profound sadness washed over me as I bowed over the tiny creature. Scooping her up, I placed her gently in my lap and wept.
The trial was surely almost at its end. I had failed. Failed my parents, failed myself, failed the realms, and now I had failed this beautiful, broken thing. Tears splashed onto her amethyst scales, shimmering where they fell.
“I’m so sorry, little one,” I sobbed.
