Page 217 of Blood of Hercules
The general grinned and announced we were running the circuit.
Augustus looked at me with an intense, worried expression, so I gave him a thumbs-up to show that everything would be all right. His frown deepened, and I realized I was holding up my elbow, not my thumb.Awkward.
I blinked.
Wind howled, and snow whipped in a frenzy.
Visibility was zero.
I was 99 percent sure my eyeballs were also freezing, because it was hard to move them.
Bloody feet slipped on ice as I struggled to keep up with the group. If Drex wasn’t running slightly in front of me, pulling me forward, I would have one-hundred-percent fallen off the mountain into the ravine below (on purpose).
Sadly, he wouldn’t leave me alone.
The misery continued.
When we finally got to the bottom of the mountain, a million years later, my jaw dropped—in my head, because I couldn’t move my face muscles. They’d broken a path through the frozen lake so we could swim through it.
It had Kharon written all over it.
Why are Spartan men like this? God forbid anyone try to live a somewhat good life these days.
Kharon stood on the river in a boat. A thick fur coat hung around his wide shoulders. His jaw was clenched, and he stared at me with a strange expression.
He almost looked—worried?
Just like Augustus, deep lines marred his forehead.
They had good reason to worry.
Hours later, I crawled onto the frozen bank, head hanging low, eyes twitching, limbs tingling, gasping for air. I was numb all over.
The icy swim had easily been the worst experience of my life.
Hands down.
Being Spartan meant we’d survive when humans would go into shock, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. It just meant we could suffer more.
Lucky me.
I crawled toward the mountain entrance as initiates stumbled to their feet around me. We staggered down to the library, and I collapsed in front of the hearth I always lay in front of.
I landed on a warm block, which moaned.
“Nyx?” I asked, remembering I had a snake bestie.Ever almost abandon a friend? Same.
She hissed and slithered around my neck. Her warm scales felt divine, like a toasty scarf.
I opened my mouth to thank her, but passed out from exhaustion.
“Alexis,” someone shouted. “Shit!”
Time got fuzzy again.
Everything was spinning in muted shades of red.
Maybe this is the afterlife? And we’ve forgotten what came before? Maybe it’s all a simulation, and that’s why math makes so much sense?
