Page 39 of Blood of Hercules
I was the only girl.
Please tell me I’m lucid dreaming right now. Please, don’t let this be real.
Three boys wore small gold laurel-wreath crowns—the symbols of Olympian heirs—and they looked around cockily, heads held high like they were better than everyone else.
ROAR.
A menacing animal growl reverberated through the air.
The crowd went dead silent.
A Nemean lion slunk forward on a white platform that extended from the bottom of the stadium, and it shook its majestic golden mane.
To the right, a beast of a man in an all-white suit walked beside it.
He wore a magnificent gold laurel crown, which was covered in sparkling jewels (much fancier than the boys’ in the sands). The famous headwear indicated that he was the leader of an Olympian House.
He wastheSpartan royal.
The famous leader of the Spartan Federation.
Curly gold hair, a matching full beard, shocking gray eyes, and glowing skin were unmistakable. He wasn’t very tall, but he was wide and stocky.
Power exuded from him.
He stopped at the end of the podium, framed by two towering white columns, and spread his arms wide.
Electricity leaped across his glowing skin like he was a live wire. Zapping noises echoed as the energy mixed with the rain and created sparks.
It was the most godlike Spartan to ever walk the earth.
It was Zeus.
His Olympian powers were legendary; the electricity he naturally generated enhanced his speed, intelligence, and strength. He was simply better than everyone... ever.
“The House of Zeus welcomes all of Sparta on this summer equinox,” Zeus’s voice projected around the coliseum.
“With our Olympian labs and scientific advancements, we are mightier than ever!” he shouted. “We are thegodsof this new age.”
Sand vibrated as the Spartans stomped their feet, and the drizzle became a heavy rain. Sparks leaped brighter on his shoulders.
Zeus smiled widely and waved to the crowd.
“The twelve ancient Houses of Power stand before me united and stronger than ever, and it is mygreatest honorto welcome all of you—Spartan generals and the trainees who are working to obtain general status so you, too, can someday be members of our illustrious federation.”
Spartans cheered and stomped. Animals flapped their wings and roared. House flags waved.
Zeus turned toward the sand. “And aspecialwelcome to this year’s initiates—the heirs, mutts, and creatures of the new generation. In this Kronos-blessed coliseum, you are all equal. There are no Chthonics this year, but there is animpressivearray of Olympians.”
His white teeth flashed.
After the Great War, Spartans had struggled to produce heirs, and it was rumored that they were getting desperate, creating as many mutts with humans as possible to keep their race going.
Since only three boys on the sands wore crowns, that rumor seemed to be true.
Only two wore the black cloaks of creatures.
Bolts of electricity twined around Zeus’s arms as he once again spread them wide. “Memento homo quia pulvis es et in pulverem reverteris!”
