Page 165 of Crown of Olympus
“Tsk, tsk,” Kronos tutted. “I’d sooner thank the death-wielder than harm a hair on her pretty head. After all, it is she who set me free.” His grin widened as he bared pointed teeth.
Horror flooded my system.
For, a dark and ancient power wakes,
At the breaking of the storm.
I hadn’t saved the realms at all — I had condemned them. Just as the prophecy warned.
“You’ll not touch her!” Charon bellowed, launching himself, sword-first at the Titan god of time.
Kronos indulged Charon for a few parries, clearly toying with him, until Poseidon, Aros, Athena, and Hephaestus joined the fray. I could tell Caelus was itching to leap in as well, but we were both weaponless, and a fierce protectiveness now surged down our newly remade bond.
Static filled the air as Caelus’ skin sparked with power. He hurled a bolt of purple-tinged lightning at the Titan, strikingKronos square in the chest. A sizzling hole burned clean through where his heart should have been, only to meld before our eyes, closing over in neat perfection.
Kronos’ eyes flashed with murderous delight. He flicked each god aside like ants — Caelus included — leaving me standing alone and completely powerless, with only Charon between us.
“Charon, don’t!” I yelled.
But it was too late.
Time slowed with a flick of Kronos’ wrist.
Charon leapt with his sword extended in a swinging arc, its blade mirroring the flash of lightning cleaving the sky outside. The blow was technically sound, and it would have decapitated any other foe in the blink of an eye.
But Kronos was no mere adversary. He was chaos made flesh. Evil wearing the guise of a middle-aged man. And he wielded time as effortlessly as I wielded shadows.
Before Charon could make contact, Kronos twisted his wrist, as though turning an invisible dial.
Charon screamed — a curdled, fractured sound tearing from his throat.
“Char!” I lunged for him, desperate to spare him the pain, to take his place — anything to make the sound of his anguish stop. But Kronos casually flicked two fingers on his free hand, slowing my pace to a crawl.
The air suddenly weighed a tonne, pressing down on me from all angles as though I were wading through honey. I couldn’t move fast enough.
Suspended mid-leap, Charon was held aloft in Kronos’ immense power, like a puppet on a string. The Titan turned his wrist further — and a nightmare played out before me.
Charon’s face warped, aging in moments. Wrinkles lined his face, creasing his skin like old parchment. Age spots dotted his hands; his cheeks grew gaunter with every passing second. Hisunruly blonde mane of hair turned white as snow, before thinning and disintegrating altogether. His beautiful blue eyes clouded, sinking deep into his skull, before bursting into nothingness like a squashed grape.
I retched in slow motion.
But Kronos was not finished.
Charon’s skin disappeared entirely as his body decomposed — decades passing in seconds — leaving naught but his aged skeleton in ragged clothing, still clutching that tarnished sword.
“Charon,” I whispered, horrified and heartbroken. I fell to my knees for the second time, grieved a second time. I had no further influence over death with my powers drained.
My sunshiny Charon. The boy who coaxed laughter from an overly-serious girl. The boy who always won Ferryman, who could drink me under the table, who called me ‘sister,’ despite knowing I’d been the one to rob him of a mother.
The man who saved me from myself countless times, who knew exactly when the anxiety was about to overwhelm me and could always bring me back down. The man who trained me like my life depended on it, who reminded me to work on my feet, who taught me my love for dance.
Gone.
CHAPTER 47
Caelus
I felther heart break from across the room — felt it as keenly as I had felt my own when it shattered mere minutes ago.
