Chapter 63
Evadne
Ihate flying. Hercules has never allowed me to navigate on the Hybris, so I don’t have much practice, and I’m the sort of person who prefers to think things through, rather than reacting fast or relying on my reflexes.
I dare not try to do anything smart, like zipping between the swaying plants—I just steam forward as fast as I dare and trust my captain to cleave his way through anything we might hit.
So far, Hercules has hacked his way through the meadow of giant vines with Keravnos easily.
We might very well win this one, I think, clutching the mast with both hands and keeping my squinting eyes on the golden stag ahead.
The swath of green in front of me seems to be lessening.
The stag veers suddenly, and I panic, swinging the longboat after it.
Hercules stumbles at the front of the boat and throws me a furious look.
“Evadne!” he roars, but I return my attention to the stag. It’s still heading left in a wide curve. I will the boat to follow, noticing with relief that the vines are definitely becoming sparser. I can see Hercules moving toward me in my peripheral vision.
“I’ll take over,” he barks. I readily relinquish control of the boat, and it judders through the air for a split second. “Idiot,” he spits, before the smooth movement resumes. “Now we can pick up some speed,” he mutters.
A flash of red catches my eye, and I look up as a much smaller longboat with a red sail soars over us. Captain Lyssa.
“How did they get through the vines?” I murmur.
Hercules growls. “She has more of my strength than I estimated. Where’s the new slingshot?”
I crouch in the boat, scanning the curved planks for the weapon. It isn’t really a slingshot at all, more like a handheld ballista. They called it a crossbow on Leo, the first of its kind. I find it, and pull metal bolts from the pouch on my belt to load it.
I’m intensely aware that these bolts will be far more lethal than the lead shot everyone else is using, and I find myself moving slower than I probably should.
I slide a bolt in and pull back the band, trying to convince myself that the weapon is on par with a well-wielded bow and arrow. There’s nothing unfair about using it.
All four crews have been chosen by the gods, I tell myself. They all have help, and most have means. If we have access to more efficient, albeit deadly, weapons, then we are obliged to use them. This is a battle, and the prize is worth the cost.
The landscape around us is changing. The vivid greens are dulling, muddy browns and dusty oranges replacing them as dirt covers the grass.
The rolling hills are growing in height, becoming thinner and jagged, and a canyon is forming before us.
The stag begins to weave between the spindly peaks jutting out of the ground.
“Are we supposed to follow its path exactly?” I ask, knowing the answer but wanting to make sure Hercules does too.
He doesn’t reply, but the boat moves to follow the path of the stag. We’re close enough that I can see the gold flash of its hooves and make out the shining curves of its antlers.
Lyssa is still above us, but not hugely ahead.
She’s following the creature precisely, rounding every spindle and rocky outcrop the stag does.
Soon, there’s no grass left at all, the barren rock turning a deep terracotta.
The valley we’re flying through deepens and the jutting spires increase in number.
Every now and again the valley curves sharply, forcing us around bends so tight that we almost go back on ourselves.
I start to enjoy the feeling, now that I’m not having to control our route. My ponytail whips behind me as we pick up speed. There’s no sign of the other two crews, and Lyssa is not making up any more ground.
Adrenaline pulses through me as I think about winning. How happy Hercules will be. How we’ll be that much closer to immortality.
“I’m going to take the boat up. Shoot when we get level,” he calls.
My elation dips.
“Shouldn’t we just speed up? Win that way?” I say, before I can stop myself.
“Shoot when we get level,” he repeats.
I take a long breath and raise the crossbow.
“Yes, captain.”