Page 68 of Crown of Olympus
Aphrodite cackled, much to my chagrin. “Oh, honey. It’s beyond words. So much better than your own fingers,” she added with a knowing wink. “Who’s got you so interested? And more to the point, how do you plan to make it happen without touching each other’s bare skin?” She quirked a perfect blonde brow.
“Nobody,” I snapped, scowling.
Aphrodite merely laughed, raising her hands mock surrender.
“You know I could find out,” she said, grinning mischievously.
“You wouldn’t.”
“You’re right — I wouldn’t. But only because I respect you. Everyone else is fair game.”
Smiling despite myself, I answered her other question. I told her everything that had happened after Artemis’ trial including the vision and the revelation that I could touch Charon’s skin without reaping his soul.
“Well, that’s an interesting development,” the goddess mused. “I can’t wait to see how you test it out — and onwhom.”
With a sultry wink, Aph upended her glass and poured another. She raised it in a toast.
“To new experiences, my dear Nyssa.”
‘New experiences’could just as easily be construed as ‘new trials’ — and today, it was Athena’s turn.
The day was warm and clear, not a single cloud in the sky. Olympus cycled through the seasons at Demeter’s whim, and today, the sun shone warmly upon my face. A gentle breeze tugged at the loose strands of hair that had escaped my braid. I closed my eyes, savouring the sunlight.
My tiny dragon friend nuzzled into my neck, trilling softly. She, too, seemed to be enjoying the warmth — the calm before the storm.
A polite throat-clear broke the moment, pulling me back down to reality.
Athena had arrived.
Ah. There’s the storm.
She was bedecked in gilded armour — each piece a work of art — etched with intricate, interwoven designs and the image of an owl engraved into her chest plate. The same owl now perched on her shoulder: her animal companion from Artemis’ trial.
She clutched a golden spear in her right hand and a largecircular shield in the other. Her long auburn hair spilled loose down her back, crowned by a golden helm.
Athena stood perfectly still, feet set shoulder-width apart, posture rigid. A soldier’s stance.
“Champions,” she called.
I understood now why so many followed her into battle — her low voice commanded attention with every syllable. Athena was not merely a soldier; she was the General, and she had earned her title a hundred times over.
“Your task today is simple. The means of achieving it, a little less so.”
I had expected no less from the goddess of warfare and wisdom.
“The task? Retrieve your medallion from behind those walls.”
Athena turned towards the mountain at her back, where the air rippled and wavered. Our battlefield appeared, quite literally, out of thin air: a jagged fusion of nature and design. One corner of my lips tugged upward. The kind of magic required to both construct and conceal an entire fortress on the side of a mountain was impressive.
Flowing down from the mountain’s midpoint and all the way to the sea was a castle hewn from the craggy stone, tucked behind a thick wall at least a mile long. Battlements curled like talons, and spires rose from the rock like freshly sharpened arrowheads. To the fortress’s right, a sheer cliff plunged to the sea below, waves crashing violently against the rocks.
Poseidon was spicing things up. Leander grinned wickedly at the sound.
Well, I’d wager he has an unfair advantage.
My dragon let out a low hum of agreement.
“There is one medallion for each of you,” Athena declared. “You will recognise which is your own upon close examination — and if you don’t, then you don’t possess the wisdom requiredto rule,” she added flatly. “This trial will test your wit, your morals, and your ability to work within a team — should you choose to do so. You may ally with another champion, a team of champions, or” — she paused, lifting a dark brow and skewering us with her striking blue stare — “go it alone. I do not recommend that route. Even a King or Queen of Olympus will need allies.”
