Page 22 of Crown of Olympus
“That’s not its eye…”
“No, but I don’t see you contributing anything, oh dark one!”
My serpent head hung back, watching me hungrily, a keen intelligence in its gaze. It snapped at the other, hissing quietly, as though it were whispering.
“I think it can understand us…” I murmured.
“What?!”
“Look. They’re communicating.”
Unfathomably, the heads hissed in tandem, jerking towardsus and then away. I didn’t know what it was saying, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t bode well for us.
“New plan. Do your powers work out here?” I asked quietly.
“Yes. Don’t yours?” He raised a single white brow pointedly.
And pointedly, I ignored it.
“Strike a head,” I whispered. “Do it now!”
“It’s not that easy to just hit a moving target!”
“Oh dear, does the princeling have trouble with his aim?” I taunted.
Caelus scowled.
A static buzz filled the air as electricity flickered at his fingertips. I smirked — my goading had worked.
Now if he could use that drive to prove himself and actually hit his target.
I willed my sword to shift into something smaller, something I could throw. Seconds later, I was palming a single black dagger in my right hand.
“Neat trick,” Caelus grinned.
“It comes in handy. Ten silver drachma says I can take down my head before you get yours.” I grinned right back.
“Ten gold says you don’t,” he winked, then flicked his right hand forwards, releasing a blinding white bolt of pure electricity at the beast’s injured head.
He missed.
“Oh, sothat’show we’re playing? Cheating?” I prowled sideways, never breaking eye contact with my own watchful serpent head.
“All’s fair in love and war!” Caelus called out, laughing as he dodged another vicious strike.
“I never understood that ridiculous mortal saying,” I shouted back, sidestepping a swipe. “And this is neither love, nor war!”
“Not yet,” he grinned at me over the scarred middle of the hideous beast.
I fought the urge to laugh. Fought to hide how much I was enjoying this dance of wit, albeit a dangerous one.
Then Caelus landed a direct hit. His lightning struck the exact same place I’d cut earlier, and his half of the beast dropped to the ground with a lifeless thud. He preened, placing his hands on his hips with a pleased smirk, while I darted trying to avoid the thrashing of the remaining serpent’s head.
It hissed in agony, striking blindly. When it snapped at the empty air beside me with its eyes clenched shut, I stabbed down, fast and hard, putting the beast out of its misery.
My dagger faded into nothingness, no longer needed.
The amphisbaena lay still, its massive body strewn haphazardly across the sandy valley.
