33. Nyssa
Nyssa
Leander, Thallo, Tychon, Athena, and Diana stood in a loose circle surrounding me, weapons drawn, their blades reflecting the flashes of lightning tearing through the sky.
Shadows dripped from my open palm, pooling at my feet — slithering like hungry, impatient serpents.
“Begin!” Ares roared from the sidelines.
Tychon struck first. As a son of Hermes — a god of travel and trickery — he moved stealthily. Little more than a blur. He came at me from behind, his knife slashing at my ribs.
I sidestepped quickly, reaching across my torso with my free hand to catch his wrist mid-strike.
He was fast — Furies, he was fast. But I would be smarter.
Still gripping his wrist, I jerked him forward until his body collided with mine, then slammed my head back. I felt the precise moment his nose shattered against my skull, cartilage crunching with sickening force.
I pivoted as he flipped the knife into his other hand,. He grinned savagely, his teeth stained gold with the blood pouring freely down his face.
Nobody else had made a move — watching for weakness, for openings, or for my energy to wane.
Then Thallo lunged.
The son of Demeter — my mother’s brother — was built like an oxen, hulking and huge, but reserved. Quiet. His spear was a flash of gold as he feinted right, then left, forcing me back towards Tychon.
Thallo jabbed as Tychon slashed. The gods worked in tandem, leaving me only enough time to deflect a single blow.
My sword clattered against Thallo’s spear, knocking him off balance as my inky tendrils swept his legs from beneath him.
But Tychon’s dagger struck low, slicing into my calf. The laceration stung like a motherfucker, but I couldn’t afford to slow. If I did, I was dead.
He loosed a manic laugh as thunder crashed in the distance, lightning dancing in my periphery.
Thallo lunged again. This time, I let him. My shadows latched around Tychon’s legs behind me while I stepped into Thallo’s attack at my front.
Instead of deflecting, I grabbed the spear as Thallo drove it forward, wrenched it back in one smooth motion, and redirected it?—
—right into Tychon’s stomach.
He choked on impact, eyes going wide as he coughed blood into the air and painted my face with macabre freckles.
Thallo’s eyes bulged in horror as Tychon fell to the ground with laboured breaths. His spear had finally met flesh, but unfortunately for Tychon, it wasn’t his intended target.
I swung Nightbreaker in a measured arc, halting jarringly against Thallo’s thick neck. A small nick appeared in his skin — both warning and promise.
He raised his hands, panting.
“I yield,” he breathed, backing away slowly.
Nodding once, I turned to Tychon, offering him the same chance. He shook his head, despite being unable to lift a finger in defence. With a scowl, I brought my hilt down on the side of his head.
He was out cold.
Down to three.
Velira hummed her approval down the bond, along with a smaller flicker of something else… Pride?
It didn’t feel like her usual sharp devotion. Not wild and demanding, but sweeter — like a layer of honey coating the back of my tongue. But I had no time to dwell, three gods still remained, each demanding my head before the crown could rest upon it.
“Who’s next?” I taunted, twirling Nightbreaker menacingly.
Leander and Diana wasted no time, launching simultaneous attacks I feared would hold more weight than those of Thallo and Tychon.
Leander’s trident flashed towards my torso, his eyes gleaming with sick delight. I parried on instinct, my body moving before my mind could fully process the attack.
He swung again and I ducked, loose strands of hair fluttering across my face as the air above my head rippled with his tridents passing.
I rose just in time to witness Athena’s strike.
Instead of slicing me open with her deadly-sharp sword, the goddess of warfare moved past me, swiftly knocking aside the arrow Diana had fired at my head.
I faltered, my brows crashing together.
Why didn’t she let the arrow strike true?
Did she want the glory of taking me out herself?
Leander took advantage of my momentary lapse in concentration. The piercing prongs of his own metallic dick-stick dug deeply into the muscle of my thigh. A grunt escaped me as he yanked it free with a wet squelch, warm blood flowing down to pool in my boot.
Barnacle boy had just made a huge mistake.
Fury burned through me like fire. Like the lightning scorching the earth metres from where we stood.
I spun, aiming a blow at Leander’s snide face, but he diverted the strike at the last second. The blade bit into his shoulder instead.
Steel clashed against steel. It took me a few heartbeats to realise it wasn’t just my sword and his trident making the sound. Diana and Athena were also locked in a melee to my right.
What in Tartarus is she doing?!
Reducing your opponents by one, Vel replied. Don’t question it — MOVE!
Leander’s trident struck at me like viper fangs — quick and lethal. We matched each other blow for blow. Nick for gouge. We were a collection of bleeding skin and bared teeth. A quick glance showed me Diana fared only slightly better.
And then Athena struck true. She was victorious, proving to all why she was the legendary goddess of warfare. I watched as she disarmed Artemis’ champion with one perfectly executed manoeuvre, Diana’s sword clattering to the ground.
She kicked Diana squarely in the chest with a force greater than any regular god was capable of, sending her careening back into the arena wall, where she crumpled to the ground.
The crowd erupted, having no idea what was going on, but salivating for every drop of blood shed anyway. They thirsted for it. Begged for it. And still, they wanted more.
My eyes darted to the stands, narrowing in on the council. Ares was a seething mass of flaming red hair. Hera skewered Athena with her gaze. Artemis roared, reaching for her shiny bow and nocked an arrow with murderous intent — but the goddess was interrupted by her own brother.
Apollo stepped in front of the arrow’s path, staring his sister down as her arm trembled with the burden of holding the bowstring taut. He placed a hand atop the weapon, her face rippling with contradictory emotion, until eventually she relented and dropped her bow.
Athena was spared.
Hera shrieked her frustration, her furious gaze swinging to where Leander and I still slashed, ducked, and stabbed at each other. Her golden brows narrowed as she met Leander’s savage grin.
I almost missed the slight dip of her chin — if I hadn’t been watching her at that precise moment, I would have. Perhaps Fate intended for me to see it. Perhaps it was simple coincidence.
Leander bellowed and lunged again, but something in his face had shifted. Gone was the humiliated champion seeking a second chance — for his father, for himself. The god that stood before me now was all lethal predator with a singular, deadly focus.
And his sights were set on me.
Leander was no longer satisfied to see me yield — if he ever was in the first place.
No, now he wanted me dead. I could practically taste his murderous intent, sharp and metallic in the air.
His swings and jabs were more forceful now, less calculated.
He did not pause for breath, did not hold any reservations.
He was just a force of raw and wild aggression, chipping away at my defences with every landed blow.
Finally, perhaps inevitably, his trident connected with devastating impact.
The force of the strike knocked me to the ground, its silver prongs digging into the edge of my ribs.
Pain and panic stole the breath from my lungs.
Terror held me in its grip, and a gurgled whimper escaped before I could stop it.
The sky roared — maybe in warning, maybe in anguish. Or maybe it was a white-haired god. Rain pelted down as Leander flashed a sinister grin, stalking towards me. He used his power to shape the droplets into fine needles, sinking into my skin like tiny barbs. Hundreds of them.
Caelus was unwittingly arming him.
Every breath became a battle; every inhale, a tiny victory — until Leander drove his knee into my chest and ended the war altogether.
He huffed with ragged breaths as sweat and raindrops beaded along his brow. From his belt he withdrew a small bronze dagger and pressed it against my throat. He leaned in closer, the blade cutting in.
“This is from Hera,” he whispered, for my ears alone.
Leander pressed harder. The blade sank in.
Fight! Velira screeched into my mind.
Fight.
The word triggered something in a hidden part of my unconscious mind. Something deep. Ancient. Something I locked away years ago.
With a raw, wordless shout, I conjured my shadows. All of them. They slithered from my open palms, my parted lips, my hollow eyes — coiling around Leander’s hand and the dagger he held.
His eyes widened. His head jerked back. I felt my skin tighten — my skull, no doubt, shining through.
Good. I hope he pisses himself in fear before I’m through.
I grasped his fingers and drove my power through his skin.
It delved in — deeper than flesh, deeper than muscle, deeper than bone — down to his core.
It was easy to find his festering soul, curled up like a starving beast in a cage.
Emaciated. Twisted. Furious. Bottomless black eyes starving for his pound of flesh.
My power coiled around it, winding and wrapping until naught but those eyes were visible.
Then, I pulled.
It was scary how effortless it was — as instinctive as blinking.
I tore Leander’s soul right out of his body and devoured it whole — my own black soul inhaling his — ingesting his power, his life force. Erasing him from any plane of existence.
His body, now devoid of life, froze mid-breath. His pupils were blown wide, golden tears leaking from his sockets. His skin was drained of any colour, his face frozen in a portrait of fear.
And then he toppled over.
I was being crushed beneath the weight of a dead god. All I could hear was the racing thrum of my heartbeat pounding through my ears — even the crowd had gone silent, broken only by the desperate cry of a sea god.
At last, I shoved Leander’s body aside and rose to my feet, my laboured breaths weaving around the cries of Poseidon.
I retrieved Nightbreaker from where she’d lain next to me, gasped my broken, ichor-slicked breaths, and turned to face my last adversary.
Athena was unscathed from her tousle with Diana. She stood firm, sword at the ready, watching. Waiting.
But before I could even fall in her direction, the goddess of warfare and wisdom sheathed her weapon and bowed gracefully.
“I yield,” she said loudly, her declaration echoing through the arena.
A ripple of murmurs ran through the stands, which quickly turned to chatter, then loud outbursts.
Athena rose with a small smile curving her lips and looked skyward — where her bonded owl circled gracefully above her head. Before she could leave, I rushed to grasp her forearm.
“Why — why do you not fight me?” I asked. I needed to know.
“Because, child,” she lifted a hand to my cheek. “You have many more battles ahead. Battles I’d much rather wage by your side than as your enemy.”
Then, she left, seemingly taking my remaining strength with her. Nightbreaker clattered to the ground with a dull, metallic thunk, and I crashed heavily to my knees.
Somehow, with the odds stacked firmly against me, I had made it out alive. But my body was exhausted, and my powers were drained.
Dimly, I registered the steady warmth of strong arms beneath my tired limbs, and the comforting scent of caramel surrounding me. I nestled into the warmth, the scent, and the feeling of absolute safety.
Perhaps I should have questioned why that combination made me feel so unquestionably safe, but all I could concentrate on was the sensation of rightness beneath my breastbone, and the questionable actions of a goddess I hardly knew.
I had no idea what Athena meant, or why she’d helped me, but I intended to find out.
My eyelids snapped open. I jolted awake with the realisation that there was still an entire crowd of whispering spectators to witness this display.
“Caelus, put me down,” I hissed. “I’m fine. And your mother?—”
“My mother can go to Tartarus for all I care,” he replied gruffly. “You’re not fine, Nightshade. And you shouldn’t have to be. Not after that. I’ll murder Ares myself for pulling that stunt.”
His eyes flashed a blinding white as thunder cracked in the distance. A knot of anxiety pulled at my chest, and my breaths became a little harder to draw.
A second, equally familiar and equally pissed off voice snarled from beside us. “Agreed. Somebody wants you dead, Nyss. Not just eliminated.”
I’d recognise his voice anywhere. That voice had saved me from despair more times than I could count. I turned to look up at Charon. His blue eyes were brimming with worry and a torrential storm of barely restrained panic, warring with frenzied determination.
He held Nightbreaker loosely at his side, and gratitude washed over me — I already loved that little blade.
“Well, there’s still two trials left,” I muttered. “Plenty of time to succeed.”
Two eerily similar snarls sounded from the duo protecting me. A third booming shriek promised retribution from the sky.
They will not touch you again.
A small smile pulled at the corners of my lips.
And if they try, they will die, Velira swore as she swooped down, spewing fire at a group of spectators who wandered too close. As they screamed and scattered, I cackled deliriously.
Yes. Let them try, I thought. I have a fucking dragon by my side. Not to mention two brawny blonde gods glaring like they’re the last line of defence between me and a realm too stupid to know better.
“I need a shower. Take me home, Golden.”
I summoned the last dredges of inky power from my veins and willed it to form a doorway. It was a little small — both gods had to duck to pass through, and Lykos had to flatten completely to fit — but in two small steps, we were home.