Chapter 45 Alexios
Alexios
Lyssa looks on gleefully as Hercules disappears under the wave of crabs.
“You know we now have to get past the crabs as well? And now the swamp is on fire,” I say, raising an eyebrow at her.
“I couldn’t care less about killing the Hydra if Hercules is dead,” she snarls.
There’s no doubt that Olympus will be a better place without the flailing fucking sadist that is Hercules in it, with his ridiculous divine sword. The Hydra now has more heads than I can count, and that is solely down to the idiotic son of Zeus.
But if he dies and Lyssa pulls out of the competition this early…
No. There’s no time for doubt. This is my best shot, and I’m taking it. I’ll just have to convince her to keep going.
And work out how to avoid the crabs and kill the monster.
“You going to buy it a drink? That didn’t work out so well with the lion. If there’s any chance at all that he survives, the best way to stop him winning is by winning ourselves.”
She gives me a grudging look, but doesn’t answer.
“Captain!” A panting Len skids to a stop beside us.
“Are you all right? Did you find something?” Lyssa asks him.
At a loss for what else to do, Len, Epizon, and Lucas went to look around to see if there was anything here we could use to help.
“Yes. I overheard the giants say something, and I think they’re right.” He obviously ran back to us, his voice heavy with exertion.
“Go on.”
“One of the heads is different to the rest of them. The eyes are a different color. And the horns are longer.”
We all look at the heads.
“No, I can’t see it,” I say.
“Nor can I,” says Lyssa. “I can’t even count the heads, let alone see differences in them.”
“Only one of the giant crew could see it,” says Len. “I think it might be like the bridge. Maybe even a deliberate ploy by Athena to force teamwork.”
That would make sense from the goddess of strategy.
“Hang on, let me get Epizon back,” Lyssa says. Within a few seconds, her first mate is back at her side.
“Where’s Lucas?” she asks.
“I’m not sure—he was searching along the canyon wall.”
Lyssa looks over at the mist, then back at Epizon. “We’ll look for him in a minute.” She tells him what Len has said, and the little satyr nods along.
“There are fourteen heads. I’ll point the different one out to you,” he says, his voice hitching a bit.
We all turn from Len to the Hydra. It’s ignoring the pile of crabs trying to tear Hercules apart, and all its heads are now snapping at the giants, each other, or the huge flames that surround it.
The firelight flickering off its metal scales makes it look like it’s made from gold.
It’s breathtaking, really, and I can understand why Athena and Hephaestus would create such a thing.
It’s both an engineering and strategic masterpiece.
“That one, there, at the back, fighting with the other two. It’s got a lighter ring in the middle of its eyes, almost yellow.”
I look hard. The eyes all look red.
“I can’t see it,” I say.
“Me either,” says Epizon.
“I’m sorry, Len, you’re the only one who can see it,” Lyssa says.
The satyr pales. “I’m going to have to go out there, aren’t I.” It’s a defeated statement, rather than a question.
“Nobody is going out there until we work out how to not die,” mutters Lyssa.
“The swamp isn’t safe and the heads are really high,” I say. “So we need a longboat.”
They all look at me.
Lyssa’s eyes narrow, but she doesn’t frown. Or smile. No surprise there. “We could go back to the wealthy houses and steal one,” she says.
Epizon shakes his head. “That will take too long.”
Lyssa begins to move, in the direction of the canyon. “There has to be something here. Athena wouldn’t design a Trial without—”
“Captain!” The cry cuts her off, then we see Lucas running out of the mist, waving. “I’ve found something!”
We all run toward him, and I’m relieved that it’s excitement, rather than terror, on his face.
When he sees us following, he scurries ahead, disappearing behind a cluster of large boulders near the canyon entrance. “Captain, there are longboats hidden here!”
Sure enough, tucked behind the rocks are three sleek longboats, their sails furled, clearly placed here deliberately.
“Thanks, Athena,” breathes Lyssa.
“So, you, Len, and I fly up to the different head and… lop it off?” I ask.
She casts a look at me as she climbs into the closest boat. “Yes. And you do exactly what I say.”
“When have I ever not?” I give her a smile that I’m certain will infuriate her.
She gives me one right back, and I accidentally wet my lips. Her gaze flicks to my mouth, then she blinks and looks at Epizon.
“Epizon, if we don’t make it back—”
“You’ll make it back, captain,” he says firmly.
“I know. But if I don’t… look after the Alastor.”
“Always.”
Len says a bunch of words too quickly for me to hear, then scrambles into the longboat.
Lyssa places her hand on the mast, and the boat rises slowly, and a little unsteadily, into the air. It’s only a moment before we’re high enough to see the Hydra in its fullest, a mass of lightning-fast teeth above a fire that must be raging ten feet tall now.
Perhaps for the first time, I wonder if I’ve made a terrible mistake.