21. Nyssa #3
My dragon followed Aros’ lead and blew flames at the machines sneaking up behind us.
Aros’ manticore — Rufus, of all names — pounced from target to target, slamming them into the ground, giving us the opportunity to take them out permanently.
Caelus’ wolf charged the ones whose fires had sputtered out, clawing and chewing them down into pieces of scrap.
Minutes passed before they were all destroyed.
Patches of scorched earth sizzled, and arrows littered the plain like porcupine needles.
A laugh slipped out unbidden. The others looked at me like I’d grown an extra head.
“Robots,” I chuckled. “Deadly tin-can robots.” Throwing my head back, I howled, falling to my knees. As the laughter grew louder, they couldn’t help but join in.
First was Aros with his bloodthirsty roar.
Then Aphrodite, with her wench’s cackle.
And finally, Caelus cracked a grin — laughing with a sound so deep and harmonious, I felt it in my very marrow.
It caught me so off guard, I couldn’t look anywhere but at him.
I wanted to swim in that sound — and I hated just how much I wanted to hear it again.
Hated how quickly he was sliding under my skin and past my mental walls.
Eventually, the laughter dried up and we shifted our attention back to the fortress. I’d lost sight of the other champions, but we still had half a day to work our way in and claim our medallions.
Caelus extended a hand to help me up. Hesitating for a heartbeat, I grasped it firmly as his lips twitched up into another smile.
In the end, we’d decided to follow my earlier suggestion and keep heading towards the gates. There had been no sign of Archimedes, even though we’d all seen him charge this way. No sign of other traps or fortress sentries either.
Just as we reached the enormous stone wall, a deep, churning rumble came from somewhere to our right. I turned my head to see… nothing. There was nothing between where I stood and the jagged cliff face. No new adversary, no sabotaging goddess. Just empty space.
The rumble grew louder, now mixed with the sounds of rushing water and howling wind.
The seas.
What was Poseidon up to?
My dragon launched into the air, keeping watch, as I cautiously approached the cliff.
Creeping forwards on all fours, I peered over its edge into the endless ocean, my allies lined up beside me.
What we saw had my jaw snapping open — I’d never seen anything even remotely like it.
Aphrodite inhaled sharply, and I heard a muffled curse from one of the males.
The waves were no longer crashing against the rocks far below. Instead, the waters were being pulled against their natural flow — backwards and upwards. They formed one gigantic wave of tsunamic proportions, headed straight for us.
“RUN!” I screamed, lurching to my feet.
I bolted, legs pumping, back along the line of the wall.
My lungs heaved as my boots pounded into the dirt.
I spared no thought for the other gods, trusting their instincts would carry them far away from the incoming wave.
I only thought of the dragon high above me.
She was too tiny, too small, to survive a wave of that size breaking over her.
As I ran, I tested out the bounds of our bond.
I reached inwards, quickly locating a thin tether that pulsed in time with her wingbeats. Our bond, our link — strong, secure, and vibrant. As I went to yank on it, I brushed against a thicker one leading elsewhere. It felt solid. Safe. Unrelenting.
My fate thread?
I didn’t have time to think through the implications. The wave was too close now.
I tugged on the smaller bond, willing the dragon to come back down to me, where my shadows could keep her safe. She dove straight down, wings cinched in tightly to her tiny purple body before flaring to slow her descent.
I caught her in my arms like we were playing a high-stakes game of catch, encircling her in a thick black bubble of shadow. She’d be safe in there — for now.
I made it all the way back to the gates, hoping it was far enough out of the breaking zone. Caelus and Aros arrived just on my tail, panting hard, with Aph just a little behind them. Their creatures had kept pace, protecting them even from the might of a tsunami.
By now, the wave had risen above the level of the cliff, almost higher than the fortress walls. A flash of silver glistened atop the crest, something metallic and entirely out of place. I squinted, my jaw jutting out as I realised what it was.
“Is that…?” Aph wheezed.
“Leander,” I confirmed.
It hadn’t been Poseidon interfering at all — just his son, with his generic steel sword. Mustn’t have earned a dick-stick like daddio yet.
I had to give him credit, though. He’d actually used his brain to outwit the robot-laden field and fifty-foot wall. As though he could feel my glare, Leander turned his head, grinned, then offered a sarcastic salute before riding the crashing wave over the other side of the fortress wall.
The wave broke violently against the structure in a thunderous detonation of water meeting stone. The wall held firm — a testament to Athena’s foresight — until the water retreated back over the cliffside, leaving only wet stone and muddy earth behind.
We had been out of range enough to avoid devastation, but didn’t escape entirely unscathed. We were now owners of three sets of sodden boots, one pair of ruined sandals, and a muddied gown hem.
“Cocky bastard,” Aros muttered, earning a grin from Aphrodite as she wrung out the bottom of today’s pink gown.
My boot squelched uncomfortably as I grimaced and I walked over to inspect the fortress entrance. The gates had been brutalised — an Archimedes-sized hole hacked into the centre of the wooden surface.
I poked my head through, in spite of the grumbling of my newly freed dragon. Her intense displeasure echoed down the bond.
“It’s clear,” I declared before stepping through. Caelus squeezed through next — evidently broader than Archimedes — with Aphrodite following him and Aros taking up the rear.
The hole was much too small for Rufus or Lykos to follow, so they remained standing guard outside. Lykos offered to tear the gates down completely, but we agreed stealth would be preferable to a dramatic entrance.
Anything could be within these walls — we knew at least two rivals had passed through.
The courtyard was eerily still in the waning sunlight. It was unnaturally silent — no wind stirred the banners hanging from the battlements, nor did the torches flicker.
The back of my neck prickled. Anxiety stirred. The dragon whined softly on my shoulder, either sensing my rising unease or feeling some level of it herself.
“This isn’t right,” I whispered. “There should be guards, or traps, or something stopping us from finding the medallions.”
Caelus hummed an agreement. “Can you smell that?” he asked softly.
The scent of seawater lingered, briny and salty, but beneath it was something else. Something I couldn’t identify. Something that had my hackles rising at the sheer wrongness of it.
“Yes, but what is it?” Aphrodite questioned hesitantly.
“It’s the smell of war,” Aros offered solemnly. “The smell of blood… mixed with grief.”
With each step, it grew stronger — cloying and suffocating in its intensity.
It was death.
Aphrodite gagged, covering her nose with part of her draping gown.
As we passed through a second set of gates into a much smaller courtyard, I stopped dead in my tracks. What we saw was nothing short of a massacre.
The stone pavers were no longer visible. Every inch was covered in thick, crimson blood. It seeped into every crack, dripped from every sconce, and was splattered across every surface.
I had never seen so much of it in one place.
War , Aros had said.
Then war was mutilated bodies and the stench of iron. It was stifling, now fully drowning out the salty tang of the sea. The smell was so thick it coated my tongue and burned the back of my throat.
The courtyard was a slaughterhouse.
Leander, Archimedes, or both had torn through soldiers — mortal soldiers — like paper. Bodies were strewn across the ground or hung from the battlements like macabre decorations. One dangled from a candle sconce. Another lay draped over a wooden railing, sans his head.
I hardly knew where one body ended and the next began. What little remained of their faces were frozen in expressions of pain, rage, or shock.
If this was Athena’s second test, then the gods had already failed. For who could cut down those we were duty-bound to protect, and still call themselves a worthy king?
Aphrodite spun away and heaved. She, in particular, would be forever scarred by this depravity.
A cough interrupted my whirring thoughts, followed by the wet, laboured breathing of a dying man. I sprinted to where the sound originated, immediately pinpointing him by the flickering of his soul — something I would not be able to see unless he were right on death’s doorstep.
Careful not to further disturb those already dead, I knelt in the cooling pools of red beside the man.
A profound sadness washed over me — this soldier was not long for the world. He was mostly whole, apart from a deep stab wound in his side. Left for dead.
He wore a bronze helmet in the same style we favoured, and matching armour on his torso. His tunic was dyed a deep red — though whether from dye or blood was anyone’s guess.
“Where… am I? Why… why have we been… sent here?” the soldier choked, blood dribbling down his chin.
“Hush now.” I grasped his hand, speaking softly. “Fear not, young soldier, for you are in the land of the gods, and I shall take you home.” I smiled softly.
My powers hovered just beneath my skin, and I knew my face would be flickering between skull and flesh.
His hazel eyes widened as he stared up at me.
“You… You are a god?”
“I am.”
“And you will… take me home?” he coughed. “Take us all… home?”
“I will.”