Page 108 of Crown of Olympus
The crowd laughed again, though this time not at the goddess’ expense.
Three matches down. Two to go. I pushed the thought down my mental pathway to Velira and felt her increasing agitation echo back.We’ll be home soon, one way or another.
My little purple beast launched into the air, flapping herleathery wings with a screech. She landed at my feet, somehow suddenly much too large to perch on my shoulder.
You’ll outgrow the bathtub soon,I thought with a chuckle, rubbing her scaled head behind her razor-sharp horns, exactly where she liked.
But not too big to devour our enemies,she purred, her silken voice carrying a hint of a laugh.Or carry you.
My lips parted. The thought of flying on dragonback had never once crossed my mind. I had wrongly assumed she was just a small, cat-sized creature — a remnant of the gigantic beasts who once owned the skies. If she continued to grow at her current rate, we could be in the clouds in mere months.
“Caelus, son of Zeus! Leander, son of Poseidon!” Ares snapped, shattering my daydream. “Ready yourselves!”
Caelus straightened beside me, flicking his silver eyes to mine for a heartbeat.
I grasped his forearm before he could walk away.
“Give him hell,” I growled. “Make him pay.”
Caelus’ mouth twisted into a savage grin.“I’ll give him exactly what he deserves,” he said, voice low and rumbling.
The arena was deadly still — so silent you could hear a coin drop. Tension thrummed through the air, crackling and humid, as Caelus and Leander faced one another. There was no measured circling, no overanalysing every step — just raw, seething hatred.
Leander struck first with a verbal lashing.
“Tell me — how did you like my mural?” He smirked, twirling his new silver trident.
Caelus glared but made no move to respond.
Leander’s jaw ticked in irritation. “The mortals. It was quite the task, painting the entire courtyard with their blood and bone.” His accompanying laugh was jagged and cruel.
Caelus still did not reply, but I noted his fingers twitching as he gripped his sword’s hilt like he was trying to strangle it.
Don’t let him goad you, Golden. He just wants to make you angry enough to get sloppy,I thought, praying Caelus wouldn’t succumb to rage.
This was too important.
He was too important.
His head jerked ever so slightly toward me. I wondered if the words had slipped out.
Static pressure built and my hair stood on end. Dark clouds began to roll in, casting the arena in shadow. Thunder rumbled and swallowed the sky in its fury. Electricity sparked at his fingertips. Lightning danced across his hands and down his blade.
His scars blazed to life in violent, jagged branches and his eyes glowed with the brilliance of a lightning strike. Overhead, the storm clouds churned in mirrored wrath. Wind howled through the arena as rain began pelting down, soaking us in seconds. I squinted into the deluge, struggling to make out the two gods squaring off at its centre.
My heart raced. Fear felt like ice water running through my veins. Despite all the reasons not to, I had found myself caring for the storm-wielder.
Deeply.
Achingly.
A metallic crash rang out, and I let out a small gasp. Their weapons met in a brutal clash — Leander’s trident caught Caelus’ electrified sword just before it struck flesh, sparks flying. They were evenly matched in size and skill, but only one could prevail.
Leander, used to battling smaller opponents, tried to shove Caelus back. The son of Zeus did not budge.
Not an inch.
He bared his teeth in a snarl and sent a jagged bolt of lightning toward the sea god. Leander twisted away, avoidingthe potentially fatal blow, but the bolt grazed his side instead. His armour sizzled and smoked, ruined.
