Page 242 of Bonds of Hercules
“CHOOSE ONE.” A guard pointed.
Weapons covered every inch of the walls: swords, axes, knives, whips, throwing stars.
We’d just started training with manual armaments—I wasn’t particularly good at any of them.
You can do this, Alexis.
Shouts echoed all around; guards were surrounding me bellowing things; sparking batons pointed; my teeth ached from the proximity to voltage; Fluffy Jr. whined, his wet nose nuzzling at my face.
I hadn’t even realized that I’d fallen to my knees.
Stop it. Get control of yourself.
Hyperventilating, I got to my feet. I gathered my courage, even though it felt like fear.
“What’s the easiest weapon to use?” I asked Nyx under my breath.
“A spear,” she hissed.
I yanked a long titanium pole with an arrow-like end off the wall.
Before I could even process my choice, I was shoved out of the narrow room and down a different labyrinth of paths.
The metal was cool in my hands, barely weighing anything.
The guards marched to a stop in front of me. They parted in unison, revealing a wide gate. Titus stepped forward and turned a lever. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”
“Shut up.” I tried to ignore him. The gate slowly lifted.
Terror cracked my ribs, one by one, until my chest was concave.
Fuck me.
It was the worst-case scenario—the day was dark and stormy. Wind whipped and clouds churned across the sky.
Discussion buzzed around the packed stadium.
“GO!” A guard shoved me forward.
I staggered out, Nyx tensed around my shoulders, and Fluffy Jr. raised his head high.
Whispers traveled through the stadium.
“HERCULES—TWELVE LABORS!” Zeus stared down at me from the end of the podium, long white toga whipping. He held his unholy scepter, the golden eagle sparking atop it.
You’re in grave danger.
Zeus’s lion roared beside him; cheers thundered.
In a trance, I walked until I stood in the center of the arena.
The stadium was staticky and warped on the other side of the force field—neon-green lines shimmered—my skin prickled.
The whispers morphed into a chant that spread until all of Sparta was shouting, “Angelus Romae … Angelus Romae … Angelus Romae!”
I hurtled into the past, the coliseum disappearing.
Augustus carried me against his chest as he walked through a Roman street. Rain splattered across my face and humans chanted, “Angelus Romae,” as they reached out and touched my head. Kharon snarled at them, his head bleeding, as he hung on to Augustus. Bound Titans screamed behind us.
