Page 54 of Crown of Olympus
“Claim the power that Fate has woven for you.”
That’s when I remembered: I wasn’t entirely helpless.
I was the weapon.
I erupted.
For the first time since my gifts had manifested, I relinquished the tight, fear-filled control I’d held over them. Pure, undiluted power burst from me like an explosion. The water itself shook from mydetonation, and the hands vanished, retreating into the murky depths.
And for the first time in my life, I felt… peace. I could exist here in the river, needing neither air nor food. Nobody need fear me here.
The current lulled me towards sleep, until that haunting voice whispered in my ear, startling me awake.
“We have seen your death, child. This is not it. Not yet.” It spoke so softly, humming with otherworldly power. “You are the daughter of death, yes. But you are also the daughter of life. Dark and light. Night and day. Both. It is time to accept the gifts given to you by those who chose love above all else. Rise, child. Endure. And choose your own fate.”
I felt the presence fade. Felt its strange energy retreating.
A choice lay before me: truly accept myself — who I was at my core — accept my powers and their consequences, or fade into oblivion, here, in these deadly, frozen waters.
It took less than a heartbeat to decide.
I had reasons to live, and they were waiting for me in my bathroom.
I chose to swim.
CHAPTER 16
Nyssa
I breachedthe surface of the River, and somehow also the bathtub. My eyes snapped open as my lungs dragged in a rasping gulp of air. It scraped down my throat, loud and raw, as I took in the chaos surrounding me.
“How dare you?!” Charon roared, just as the dragon screeched and flapped her wings. He threw his arms around my upper body — still clad in my fighting leathers, now uncomfortably soaked — and caged me into a rough hug. His shoulder slammed into my sternum, and I coughed up a black, viscous sludge — silt from the bottom of the Styx. He pulled back, and we both watched as it drifted to the bottom of the claw-footed tub like a leaf on the breeze.
“How dare I what?” I rasped, perplexed.
The dragon sniffed at my skin from her perch on the tub’s rim. Charon examined me with wide eyes.
“I don’t understand,” he said softly, melancholy weaving through his voice. “After you drank from the vial, you sank beneath the water. I couldn’t pull you back up,” he choked. “No amount of pulling or wrenching worked… it’s like you were fused to the tub, or… or like you suddenly weighed a tonne?—”
“Rude,” I interjected.
“—but… you… I thought… you died, Nyssa. Or nearly died. I could have sworn your heart stopped.” His face fell, and the sight tore my heart in two.
“I’m okay,” I whispered, tugging gently on a lock of his light blonde hair.
“I wasn’t even able to pull the plug — it was stuck beneath you,” he confessed, regret lining every syllable. “Something held you under. I scooped water out by hand but it wasn’t enough and you still…”
Charon looked around wildly, lost to his anguish. His eyes finally settled on the wreckage surrounding us, and before I could ask, he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. A coppery blush tainted his cheeks.
“I thought you were dead. Or at least dying. I couldn’t do a damn thing to save you. Neither could your dragon. We kind of, uhh… trashed your bathroom a bit.”
“I can see that. Dare I ask why?”
“Because I thought my best friend had died, andI’dbeen the one to deliver her killing blow!” Charon yelled, leaping to his feet. His fists were clenched — a gilded mess of torn skin and broken knuckle bones.
I longed to reach out and hold his hand. I ached to close the chasm between us. But I couldn’t do it — metaphorical vision or not — so I turned my attention to the debris surrounding my freezing tub.
Dust coated everything. Fragments of mirror, tile, and wall were dotted with ichor. Some pieces were scorched beyond recognition, and the smell of smoke still lingered in the air.
