Page 70 of Crown of Olympus
I almost laughed. He was the son of war — if anyone should have a plan, it ought to be him.
“I’m really starting to pity your childhood, Aros.” He turned to me, eyes gleaming with confusion. “First, the alphabet issue, and now I find out Daddy didn’t teach you war tactics either?” I shook my head mockingly.
He smirked. “At least my Daddy didn’t give me corpses to play with.”
“Oh, on the contrary,darling. Daddy gave me knives — and showed me how to use them.”
I winked and summoned that familiar shadow dagger in my palm. Tossing it into the air and catching it by the blade, I flicked it at him. Aros reared backwards. Just before it could pierce the skin between his eyes, I let the darkness dissolve. Acloud of black dust exploded in front of his face, sending him into a coughing fit, like a fish on dry land.
Then, incredibly — or maybe psychotically — he grinned and started clapping slowly.
The air shifted. The smell of honey and whiskey curling into my nose. Caelus scowled a second before I realised what we were all detecting.
Aros was turned on.
Of course. Violence was his love language.
Aphrodite giggled — a delicate, airy sound. The kind reserved for polite company. When it was just us, she cackled like an old wench, and it was one of my favourite things about her.
“So, how are we going to go about this?” Caelus asked, albeit grumpily, steering the group back onto the task.
Time was ticking. We were the last group still standing in the field.
Leander was sprinting towards the cliffs, Tychon nipping at his heels; Diana and Apollo opted to try their luck with the mountain, while Archimedes — arguably the boldest of all — was heading straight for the castle’s main gates.
“We go straight,” I said. “Pick the best route once we get closer. We have no idea what Athena has lying in wait for us.”
“She has a good point,” Aphrodite agreed.
“Straight it is,” Caelus declared.
We unsheathed our weapons. Aros passed one of his daggers to the goddess of love with a quick tutorial on how to use it,“Stick ‘em with the pointy end.”
And just like that, we crept across the field.
Four unlikely comrades.
Team Heroes.
I smiled softly to myself, willing my darkness to the surface. I knew it was only a matter of time before I’d need it.
Athena’sfirst obstacle had been lying in wait halfway across the plain. One second, everything was calm. The next, Aros took one step on exactly the wrong patch of earth.
The movement triggered a singular mechanical adversary to spring to life. It was unlike anything I’d ever seen before — something Hephaestus had definitely had a hand in. The small silver contraption looked unassuming, until it began shooting arrows in every direction.
“Fuck!” Aros growled, rolling aside just in time to avoid copping a wooden projectile to the thigh.
Aph sidestepped graciously, her dove squawking and launching skyward.
“Get back!” I shouted at her. I didn’t wait to see if she listened, jerking my head around just in time to see Caelus —goddamn fucking Caelus— catching an arrow with his bare hand. Simply plucking it out of the air like it was nothing.
Somehow, I’d avoided being targeted, which was refreshing, considering the last arrow aimed my way had been poisoned. The memory still stung. I breathed a sigh of relief. It was, however, short-lived.
The little silver machine, having run out of projectiles, whirred and began to shift. Its pieces rotated and contorted, transforming into a slightly bigger contraption with a pipe-like cylinder poking out of the top. The pipe flicked down, perpendicular to the ground, where it paused.
Aphrodite whispered, “Is it… empty?”
“No,” I replied softly. “It feels like it’s waiting. Like it’s watching.”
