Page 109 of The Shadow Gods

Over their heads, I watched Athena change. Those bright, all-seeing eyes went gray and dull as she turned from goddess to stone.

Ignoring the god, Hector cupped my face between his hands. “Once, we were able to transfer our powers to a vessel. That vessel was strong enough to trap the gods. I don't know what we have left, Leo, but I want you to take it.”

Hector closed his eyes, concentrating. His power ran from his fingers over my skin, tickling at first and then painful. I tried to jerk away, but there was nowhere to escape, because, suddenly, all of them had their hands on me, pushing a power I wasn't sure I could contain into my body.

Pollux. Paris. Orestes.

Achilles.

It hurt, and when I was sure I'd scream out, not able to take another second of this torture, it ended.

In the distance, something hit the ground and shattered. I opened my eyes.

Zeus turned, almost lazily, to face us. With all his attention on glutting himself with Athena's power, he hadn't felt me.

“Close your eyes,” I warned the others as I faced the father of all gods.

They did. I had enough time to take in their pale, drawn features before I met Zeus's wide-eyed stare.

The serpents hissed, their normally languid movements gone as we aimed all our ability at the god.

His skin turned ashen, then bronze, then ash again as we held each other transfixed.

“You're not strong enough.”

Then, why was his voice strained?

The guys had gifted me everything they had, taking the chance that I would somehow be able to defeat a god. If I didn't...

It was easy to imagine a world without anything to check Zeus.

Wars that went on for decades and, depending on his mood, relived over and over.

Mortals would become his toys again. Like Poseidon, he would take what he wanted without a single concern about what he stole and who he hurt.

On a smaller scale, he would kill these men I loved, and it didn't matter that one of them was his son. He'd murdered Athena without hesitation. If he was merciful, maybe he'd damn them to the same existence he damned Castor.

All these thoughts raced across my mind as Zeus stared at me. It was draining him—holding me off.

Don't look away.

But he was a god—a god who made other gods—and I knew how deep the well of his strength went.

Stone to bronze, and back to stone.

A jolt of pain went through me, and something fell next to me. I glanced at the ground in time to see a serpent turn to ash then dust.

Lifting my chin, I stared at Zeus. We were evenly matched. Athena's curse was my strength, and in that curse, passed from his daughter to me, something of him existed. I might not be able to bring the dead to life, but I was strong, and I refused to fail. I would make it so he could never hurt anyone else. Put him somewhere he'd never be able to escape.

“Orestes,” I got out, my voice strained and hoarse. “Where was Castor?”

God-to-stone, and back again.

Zeus laughed. “There is no place I can't escape.” And yet, he wasn't certain.

Perhaps not. But we had to try.

Orestes touched my leg, fingers gripping my ankle as he flooded me with the memory of how he found me. There was a cord...I could see it. It was a trail from one plane of existence to another, but it was hazy, like the connection from here to there was dying without an anchor at the other end.

---