Page 126 of Crown of Olympus
A monstrous, shrieking form towered over me. Her skin was a sickly, barnacle-encrusted grey. Patches of damp, decaying scales dotted her extremities and vital organs. Her stench of decay, briny and bitter, was thick enough to choke on. A tangled mass of writhing ash-coloured serpents sprouted from her spine. One hung limply — headless. Thick, black blood oozed out of the severed appendage, pooling onto the splintered deck.
Scylla was facing away, saving me — her trapped prey — for last. My stupid fucking ankle remained jammed, no matter how hard I wrenched on it.
Scylla’s main body, with its warped humanoid features, hissed at the other champions as they stabbed, hacked, and flung arrows that bounced uselessly off her grotesque scales.
Aros swung his gleaming silver axe with its single, pitiful flame, severing a second serpent head. He roared in triumph, relishing the fight. But before he could land another hit, a third sinuous neck barrelled into his legs, tossing him through the air.
He landed with a grunt at Apollo’s sandaled feet. The sun god slashing at the monster with a golden sword. Scylla swiped her taloned fingers as the serpents split their deadly focus between the four males. Her swipe tore open Apollo’s leg, dropping him to a knee. She swung again, and he managed to roll underneath her, popping up between the sons of Zeus and Hephaestus.
A manic laugh escaped me at the sight.
Four sea serpents, one pissed off sea goddess, four testosterone-fueled Olympians, and one incapacitated goddess of death walk into a tavern…
Archimedes and Caelus fought back-to-back, swords glinting in the storm light. The serpents struck fast, tearing and ripping away chunks of skin and muscle, but not without cost. Their blades stole just as much flesh from her beasts in return.
Then Scylla homed in on Aros again, back on his feet and swinging with renewed fury. His axe whistled through the air, lopping off one of her disgusting, gnarled hands. She screamed in both rage and agony, lashing out with a tentacle and ensnaring Aros around the waist. In one brutal motion, she hurled the fire-wielder into the cliffside. Aros crumpled, sinking beneath the waves.
Again.
No!
Scylla laughed — a grotesque, croaking sound that turned my blood to ice.
I hacked harder at the deck with Nightbreaker, desperate to free myself. One sneaking serpent noticed my quiet efforts and slithered toward me menacingly. I was almost free when it lunged, attempting to make a meal out of my face.
I threw Nightbreaker up just in time, the creature snapping at my sword’s shadowy length instead. The impact jolted my arm, tooth clashing against steel, but I wrenched her free and parried the next attack. Again and again it struck, tireless, while my arm burned with the effort of keeping my guard raised.
Taking inspiration from Zeus, I hurled a shadow-forged bolt right at the beast’s head, impaling it through the underside of its chin. The head bounced off the deck beside me, its lifeless eyes piercing my soul.
Dead — if such a thing could truly be killed while its host still lived.
Metal clattered against wood to my left, and I swivelled just in time to see Flameless skidding across the rotting deck, followed by a drenched and livid god of war.
“This ends now,” Aros growled, ripping a dagger from his belt.
While Caelus struck Scylla with lightning from her front, Aros vaulted through the air and impaled her from behind. The cursed goddess froze. Her three remaining serpent heads halted. Slowly, she looked down — to the sharp end of Aros’ dagger punching through her heart. She gently touched the skin beside it, a small, wistful smile gracing her pallid lips.
“Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m free.”
Scylla toppled backwards with a crash, sending jagged pieces of torn decking flying into the sea.
The boat creaked, timber snapped, and water covered the deck. The ship was sinking, and we were going down with it. Aros, Caelus, Apollo, and Archimedes dove over the side, narrowly avoiding the channel’s rocky walls.
But I was still held captive by the boat.
“My ankle!” I screamed, just as I was pulled beneath the surface, stuck in the ship’s painful embrace.
As I sank, clawing uselessly at the decking, something sleek and scaled darted past me. The current stirred, tilting me sideways — the perfect angle to witness the absolute carnage.
Three giant brown eels with glowing blue eyes snapped their serrated jaws at Scylla’s body. One chomped up a severed serpent head in a single bite before turning back to the goddess-turned-monster’s corpse.
I knew it was only a matter of time before I was next.
I looked up, futility seizing me. I expected to see my last glimpse of the waning sunlight, drifting fainter the lower I sank. Instead, two hulking figures dove towards me. Aros hooked his muscular arms beneath mine, slowing my rapid descent, while Caelus gripped my throbbing ankle in one scarred hand. With the other, he punched clean through the last of the decking, freeing me.
It was obscenely erotic.
Focus, Nyssa. Now is not the time to soak your already saturated panties at the thought of being rescued.
