Chapter 36
Nyssa
Hellespont had always been the true pride of Strathos.
Not the might of its warriors, or its balmy desert landscape, nor even the clear blue waters just off the coast of Vireon.
No — it was the idyllic coastal city of Hellespont that was the beating heart of Ares’ kingdom.
Just a stone’s throw from Cytheros and the beauty of Aphrodite’s lands, it was a safe haven for the families of Strathian warriors.
Until it wasn’t.
Until a scout — sent prompted by a witch’s warning — returned waxen and stuttering.
Until the prayers started rolling in. Prayers for strength, for wisdom, for loved ones.
Prayers for the sun to shield them, for the moon to guide them, for love to save them.
And worst of all: prayers for the safe passage of souls to the beyond.
Prayers for a quick and painless death for themselves.
We heard them all. We felt them all.
With no idea what we were walking into, we did as we were bid and travelled to where the prayers rang loudest. And upon walking through the black nothingness of the in-between, following their cries until they were deafening, we emerged in the centre of the once-great Strathian city.
It looked nothing like the stories. Not anymore.
Today, Hellespont was where the prayers were most vociferous, because today, Hellespont was a battlefield.
Surrounding us were the sounds of war; the smell of blood and carnage.
Iron-thick, the air lay heavy with loss — raw and scraping to inhale, weighed down by all the many departing souls I could feel deep in my chest. My power thrummed, aching to be set loose.
Both twisting darkness and fluttering light longed to break free of the confines of my skin — to be made useful in their own unique capacities.
Because they were being called upon. Prayed for. Begged for.
Children begged for Death to give their parents back. Newly forged orphans prayed for Life to return to the ones who gave it to them. Soldiers asked for the safe travels of the souls of their brethren. But perhaps worst of all, were the mothers weeping, pleading for the return of their babies.
I heard every single one.
Lahveh ? ahn bulesaì — ahl o? to teknon m?.
Take whatever you wish — but not my child.
O?da hóti apothanòn e? — kaì éti ouk aphesō se.
I know you are dead — and still, I will not let you go.
Hádēis, káneis láthos.
Hades, you are mistaken.
Oh, how I wished that were true. That the trusting brush of tiny souls were not grazing my own on their way past me to the Isle — so light, so curious, so bright I could feel their tiny hands running over my skin.
That the adults following them were not heavier, lingering briefly around those they were disinclined to leave behind. Those whose souls I could not yet feel because it was not their time to go.
But the city was more necropolis than metropolis.
Th-thump.
The skies darkened.
Th-thump.
The world quieted.
Th-thump.
My pulse raced. The souls glowed brighter as Velira let out a monstrous bellow — so loud and deep it rattled the windows in their frames, silencing all but the hissing tongues of flame which endeavoured to ravage all in its path.
Th-thump.
The crescendo of my furious heart laid the tempo for my vengeful spirit. Kronos would ravage no more cities. He would steal no more souls before Death rightfully claimed them — when it was truly their time. And he would waste no more time drawing breath in this realm or any other.
It was no longer enough to send him back to the icy pits of Tartarus.
I would destroy him. Body and soul.
“Save as many as you can!” I shouted to my waiting army. “Kill anything that tries to kill you — and if your pain stops and your world grows suddenly brighter, then give Thanatos my regards as he sends you on to the next place.”
A few murmured chuckles echoed through the wavering darkness.
“You heard our Queen,” Aros called. “Swords out! Shields up! Spears forward! Archers at the ready.”
Caelus and Athena echoed his commands down the line.
Trusting my warriors were in good hands, I mounted Vel in a single heartbeat, bounding up her foreleg and dropping into the intricately crafted harness Arch had made, the next.
Once my thighs were secure in the added leather straps, she crouched.
Her muscles tensed in preparation, and with another bellow — this time filled with the mighty brilliance of violet flames — leapt into the sky, pounded her leathery wings, and propelled us high above the burning city.
From our vantage point — and my borrowed dragon sight — we were able to ascertain that hordes of dark beasts ran rampant through the city, picking off mortals like eagles plucking fish from shallow water.
They did not seem to follow any cohesive patterns, nor did they have any one leader.
They were mindless beasts, hellbent on tearing their next target to pieces.
Velira narrowed in on a half-wolf-half-lizard creature eyeing a solitary form just off the centre of town — a very small lone figure. I looked around, noting warriors nearby, but each were locked into their own battles, none aware of what was about to happen.
Before I could so much as think her name, Velira tilted sharply down and to the left, diving in a neat arc toward the ground.
You forget that we are inextricably linked, she said, tasting my confusion.
Sometimes I do forget, yes.
And sometimes, I wish you had enough presence of mind to remember so that you can block me out.
I snorted.
Two-legs having sex is much less elegant than those with four, she sniffed.
And how, exactly, would you know? I grinned.
This is no time for questions, she snarled. This is a time for hunting.
Later, then.
She did not deign to answer, but instead flared her wings and lashed her head downwards, snapping her gleaming fangs around the beast’s neck. It died instantly — that tended to happen when heads were removed from bodies.
Before we could even celebrate saving the small Strathian boy from certain death, another Tartarian beast rounded the corner, eyeballing him.
“Ugh! They just keep coming!”
And we will keep sending them back to the abyss.
I conjured the familiar weight of a shadow dagger in my palm as Vel arced back around, and summoned a length of shadowy rope in the other.
“Ready. In three...”
Two…
“One.”
She ceased flapping for all of two heartbeats — enough time for me to send the dagger whirling through the air, end over end, until it lodged itself neatly in the eye of the wolf-headed predator.
The instant I’d let the blade loose, my left arm snapped out.
The rope flew through the air and coiled around the body of the child, still standing agape in the middle of the street.
And as Velira’s wings resumed their steady beat, we soared high above the buildings with a shadowbound boy in tow.
He shrieked as his feet left the ground, flailing and failing to escape the confines of his binding. But my shadows would not let the boy fall until I was ready to set him loose.
Vel bee-lined to the flat, empty expanse of sand beyond the border of the city, where so few refugees were fleeing. They screamed as she neared, fearing their demise at the tongue of a dragon — a dragon they did not know would face certain death for them.
I shifted in the saddle, their cries resting uneasily upon my shoulders.
Fear not, Vel soothed. They do not yet know me. They do not yet know us. But they will.
A hundred mortals cowered as Velira hovered above them. Thankfully, within their midst, I spotted the tall, lithe form of the god of healing. Apollo was dashing between bodies, tending to each of their wounds as fast as he could manage, with Hestia on his tail helping as much as she was able.
As I lowered the boy to the waiting arms of an Athenian warrior, I met the gaze of the sun god. Faster than a darting hare, his right hand shot out and formed the shape of a singular word.
Land.
“Vel, Apollo wants us to land for a moment.”
As you wish — though my claws are not yet thoroughly soaked in the blood of our enemies.
Patience, you violent beast. The day is still young.
She made a low growl deep in her throat, so rumbling I could feel the vibration up my legs, but did as I asked and alighted just south of the group of mortals.
Apollo was there before she had time to tuck her wings in, impatiently for her to settle. Without even waiting for me to dismount, his umber hands were flitting through the air with much less grace than I was accustomed to seeing from him.
He is here. I can feel him.
Who? I signed back. Kronos? My blood boiled at the mere thought that that overly enlarged phallus-shaped god could be here… that today might be the day I can slake my thirst for vengeance.
Apollo shook his head, the golden beads in his dreadlocks catching the sunlight as he moved. No. Not Kronos… his brother.
My brows scrunched as I looked back at the burning city. I scanned it quickly, searching for something we might have missed — some clue as to which brother Apollo could feel.
“Ouch!” I snarled at the pebble that landed in my lap after successfully bouncing off the side of my head, and glared at the god who dared throw it.
My apologies. He grimaced. But you robbed me of the chance to speak further when you diverted your gaze to the remains of Hellespont. He raised one dark brow in silent reprimand.
My stomach dropped as I heeded the truth of that statement.
Whoops, I signed with a wince.
His other dark brow rose to join the other, lingering halfway between his golden eyes and midnight hair. Whoops, indeed. In any case, have you noticed how the fire burns without heat? Or how the day is so glaringly bright it feels as though Helios focuses his attentions solely on us?
I considered his questions, surprised to realise that what he’d noticed was true — and that I had failed to see it until pointed out.
Helios is here? He is no brother of Kronos.