A Shield of Fate and Ruin (Apollo Ascending Book 3), page 28
But time had rushed ahead of me like sand sifting through my fingers.
And now I had to face my fate.
The air cooled, and the day darkened. I lifted my eyes to where the moon swept in front of the sun. It wasn’t like a normal eclipse. The moon’s form glided across the heavens like a bird sailing, the world darkening in one tremendous sweep.
And then the screaming started.
I was so far away I shouldn’t have heard it. But the sound grew like thunder, the keening of high gods who thought death a foreign concept, the sounds they made as their lives lay waste.
Ares had seen the eclipse.
And he had turned on Zeus.
Our plan had worked. The time to act was now.
I lifted my hand up to my shoulder, intending to grip my knapsack and readjust it. But that was gone. Hyacinth had it.
And with Cyn on my mind—my heart and soul that walked away from this hell I was about to face—I leaned into my magic and moved, stopping at the entrance to the palace. The last time I’d arrived there, nymphs had thrown petals, my siblings lining the stairs, the glory of the gods of Olympus on display.
This was different.
The sun peeled back out from behind the moon, its rays rippling over the thousands of dead bodies strewn about the grounds, gold leaking onto marble, dripped down steps, staining and seeping in and marking for eternity the horrors I’d missed in the previous night.
No living being stood outside the palace, but the fighting and screaming from inside blistered through the air like a cacophony, making me wish I could cover my ears. Instead, I ducked through the shadows of the doors that lay open.
A table stretched with food from several days before by the looks of the stale bread and hardened rinds of meat. Dishes lay shattered on the floor, the tablecloth draping off in one corner, the dried stain of wine that had spilled down it like blood blooming over the fabric.
The room and the hall beyond it remained empty.
If it wasn’t for the clattering, exploding, screaming sounds from above, I would almost believe I stood alone in a crypt. I stepped into the hallway, sweeping my gaze through the space before walking down it.
Only Zeus could kill me, but others could injure me and make it easier for him to achieve. Cautiousness buzzed through me, leaving me wary and slow to move.
I turned a corner towards the stairs leading to the throne room.
And gagged.
Blood, the golden ichor of gods, splattered alongside the browning reds of the lower deities, painted the walls, dripping over the bodies lining the steps. Bile rose into my throat, my hands growing clammy as I eased up the stairs, trying to find places to put my feet where I didn’t have to touch the gore or the languished bodies of those around me.
Impaled against a wall, eyes open, his face ajar in a distorted, cruel way, was a god in a rich outfit, a crown still weaved into the hair at the top of his head, life seeping from the wounds in his chest.
Jupiter.
It had to be him. And that sank into me. I hadn’t really believed it, that Zeus had killed him, that I could no longer hope for him to overpower my father. Now everything fell onto my shoulders.
I turned and continued up until I reached the top step as a thud shuddered the wall. My hand trembled as I reached for the door, but a splash of emerald green caught my eye.
I shifted back, pushing a body away.
To find Poseidon, his dark skin covered in blood, his eyes staring ahead, a sheen over their surface, the light long gone.
“No,” I whispered, and grazed my fingers over his shoulder.
Temi’s father.
He had betrayed us both. But also looked out for us, gifted Temi her horse she loved so much, and shielded her from our family’s wrath.
He was one of the few gods that had ever treated me with kindness.
Another thunk rumbled the wall, and I brushed Poseidon’s eyelids closed before getting back to my feet.
“Who put you up to this?” Zeus roared from behind the door, and terror screamed down my spine, causing goosebumps to crawl over my skin and my stomach to ache.
The building trembled hard enough that bits of the ceiling fell, landing on my toes and dusting my skin.
“You killed my wife and my daughter,” Zeus roared.
The other man in the room coughed before he spoke. I recognized the voice at once, and a skitter of fear rose the hair on my arms. Ares’ words came gravely. “As I do not hold the spark, the only being able to kill Athena and Hera was you, Father.” He spat the last word.
A slap echoed hard enough that I cringed away from it.
“You caused this madness, turned all the gods of Olympus against me.” Zeus’ voice built into a snarl. “You used your magic to undo our entire family.”
“As if family has ever mattered to you.”
Zeus growled, and another thud rattled the walls. “Who incited you to do this? Tell me. I will bleed the answer from you if I must, but I will find out.”
Ares whimpered, and my spine straightened.
I twisted the handle to the door, surprised that it opened without resistance.
Father stood splattered in gore, his tunic disheveled, his dark hair a tattered mess around his face. He held Ares’ shirt in his fist, pulling him. Ares’ turned towards me, his face a mottle of plum bruises, gouging cuts, and swollen flesh.
I took another step over the tile floors. “Hello, Zeus.”
He swept around, his nose wrinkling into a snarl, his eyes as cutting as blades. “You.”
“Yes, me.”
The sun drew closer to the open windows, the heat of it causing sweat to glisten over us. I didn’t mean to do that necessarily, but I must have called it subconsciously. Zeus looked at me for such a long moment that I struggled not to fidget before he dropped Ares, who landed with a clatter and a moan, his muscles trembling.
Zeus swept his hand out, a lightning bolt glittering to life in his fist.
It illuminated his features, zigging over his skin, making his eyes flame. “I should have killed you the moment you drew breath,” he hissed and slammed the bolt at me. I jerked away from it, but too slowly, and the edge of it ripped open my arm. The burning smell of flesh hit me and caused me to gag.
“Oh, you weak, foolish idiot.” Zeus spoke through his teeth, spit speckling his beard. “You and Ares thought to come against me. You’ll regret that before I end you.”
My arm hurt so much my heartbeat pulsed with it, my jaw clenching, but I raised my face to him in defiance. I didn’t need words to express my heart. I’d never grieve his fall.
He growled at me, yanking another streak of lightning and hurtling it towards me. I dodged it. “What is your plan, Apollo? I hold the power of the spark. Or have you forgotten?”
The sun drew closer, as if to protect me, the heat of it burning, my skin stinging against it. “I haven’t forgotten. But I have a prophecy that you don’t know about.”
His expression broke for a moment, but then he stomped over towards Ares, lifted him up, and plunged his hand to his chest. Silver light exploded through him, and Ares wailed, his head thrown back. Then Zeus dropped him into a lifeless lump on the ground. “Let me tell you what I believe about prophecies, Apollo. I make my own. Do you think,” he screamed, “that I have killed and sacrificed and lost so much, to let you end things now?”
He stomped, and the palace shuddered like it would fall, his throne cracked in two.
Ares lay, mouth gaping, on the stone floor.
A wisp of a sob pealed through my lips.
If there was anyone I ever loved in life outside of Temi and Hyacinth, it was him.
But his son was safe.
Cyn was safe.
And Temi would know what to do when this hell ended.
The world would be a better place. Even if Ares and I weren’t in it anymore.
Zeus smiled, a vicious expression that gleamed in his eyes, wrinkled his nose. “It’s almost amusing to me”—he wiped his arm over his jaw, smearing half-dried blood—“that you think you can face me, boy.”
He stepped towards me, and a tremble coursed down me.
I wasn’t sure that I could take him in a fight.
And we both knew it.
My heart pattered as he continued walking forward.
“It’s interesting to me that you believe you understand my plans,” I said. “As usual, you’ve misjudged me.”
His eyes grew beady, and his jaw shifted, like he considered whether he was curious enough to ask questions.
I didn’t wait for his assent. The blood racing through my arms tingled my flesh, and my throat tightened as if I looked over a precipice about to jump.
Zeus’ mouth gaped, and I noticed that his irises had navy specks that scattered across them.
For all my childhood of staring at him in defiance, or cowering before him in fear, I’d never seen that detail.
Something about it made him feel oddly human paired with his tousled hair and glistening skin.
He was a man who had allowed ambition and hunger for power override everything. I remembered the first time he’d hit me. I’d been only a child when he knocked me hard enough that I’d tumbled down several steps in this very room. Gods had laughed, looking at me over the rims of their wine glasses, whispering about Zeus’ unfavored son.
But, for me, it was the first time I’d feared for myself.
I knew Zeus was cruel to humans. But I didn’t know he’d harm me, leave me dripping blood against the tile.
“Get up, Apollo,” he’d growled. “You’re disturbing us.”
The laughter had picked up. I’d sniffled and slammed down the stairs, stumbling several times, wiping blood away and wincing.
I would never stand in this room afraid or watching horrors play out again.
I leaned into the weight of my powers and called the sun forward until the burning ball of light roared its way into the hall. A moment of recognition dawned on Zeus’ face, his eyes widening with terror.
Heat burst through me, like the sun zipped through my veins, pulsed through the chambers of my heart.
But I didn’t fight it as I had all my life.
Instead I opened myself to those powers.
Allowed the sun to take over my body, rip through my mind, claw away every inch of myself until nothing existed except the licking pain of heat.
It grew until it filled the room, like the giant star had crawled out of the sky and curled up into the room with us.
And the palace exploded as the spark ripped apart.
A blast hurtled my body through the fire. My flesh burned. I struggled for a breath but only heat and light existed around me.
The entire world seemed to shudder.
The explosion scorched down to my bones, the pain so great it seared through my mind and branded me, bits of my body already lost, swallowed by the flames.
But I had time for one last thought to form before it devoured me.
I will find you, Hyacinth. Not in this lifetime, but in another. If any inkling of my soul survives this. I will return to you.
I promise.
And then the heat consumed me, and I closed my eyes, leaning into the warmth and fire and destruction of the sun.
38
Artemis
Weapons clattered. Bodies fell to the ground with shrieks and the iron-tang of blood hung thick in the air. The world, a dark swelling of shadows from Hecate, blinded Ansair’s forces. Our soldiers slaughtered them in mass, the men thudding into the muck and darkness.
Hades whispered through the army, invisible, his strikes cutting down mortals so quickly they lacked time to gasp before they fell.
Archers from the wood line knocked riders from their horses in staccato bursts.
We were winning.
Massively.
A glimmer of hope, hot and pressing, rose in my chest. We were going to overcome Ansair. And Niria would know peace again. We would not retreat to our camps, terrified and heartbroken this time.
Orion flung his spear, and it knocked down half a dozen men. He thundered over to it and tore the weapon free, yanking his arm back again.
A gust of wind plowed through our forces, parting the soldiers. A group of Ansair’s riders galloped through the space. They lifted their bows, their arrows flaming as they flung them towards the camps.
I tugged Arion’s bridle, directing him in that direction, but Orion raised his voice. “No. You’re needed more here. The archers on the hill behind the city will take care of them.”
I released a shot as soldiers approached us. In the distance, the thatched stable roof sparked to life, flames swallowing the top. I gasped, but Orion shook his head. “There are few horses left in there. The stablemen will get them.”
I nodded and shifted to the battle, but my heart thundered.
Valerian would be in there.
I glided my elbow back to release another arrow.
The sky exploded as if the sun had caught the heavens on fire, flames eating through the darkness, casting all the soldiers in gold and apricots.
“Apollo!” I screamed, lifting my face to the heavens as the light receded again. “Apollo.”
And then magic swept out of me, so hard it left me breathless.
The surrounding darkness—Hecate’s magic—disappeared like some deity had sucked it all in with a gasp.
Fighters screamed and scrambled around us, attempting to understand what had happened, both sides wondering if it was the other and if more might come.
But I knew what had taken place.
Apollo had died.
The high gods must have fallen.
Mine and Hecate’s—and likely Hades’—powers going with them.
I wept, my nose flaring.
A spear swept through the air.
If I hadn’t been so distracted, I never would have missed that.
But I was distracted. My heart ripped apart like I had lost a piece of me. Apollo.
The spear ripped through my side. I yelled through my teeth. My blood flowed beneath my armor, hot and sticky. And my powers weren’t there to jump up and knit me together again.
The shock of it caused me to jerk my head back.
And I tumbled.
Off Arion.
I hit the grass of the battlefield with a thump that made the pain of the injury deepen. I screamed as the agony ripped through me. Arion bucked up, a high-pitched whinny tearing out over the yelling, clashing, crunching sounds.
“Temi,” Orion yelled, his gaze flicking around Arion.
He found me, jumped from his horse, and ran towards me.
Another stallion galloped in our direction.
His hooves came down hard on my leg.
The bone snapped and blood drained from my face, the clarity of the world wavering for a heartbeat.
Orion reached me, covering my body with his, shielding me.
And I finally felt safe enough for a moment, half a breath, to think about what had happened.
Apollo was gone.
I shuddered and lifted my shaking fingers to the spear. Blood coated my nails.
Orion roared, raising a sword and swiping down enemies.
But I closed my eyes.
My life force seeped into the mossy earth beneath me. Maybe this was my end, too. Maybe a world where Apollo didn’t exist was one I didn’t belong in either. Perhaps twin gods should go out together.
Peace flooded through me.
I snaked my fingers out, finding the soft pelt of Arion’s leg and grazed over it.
And I sank against the earth.
For once, not fighting my fate, not demanding something better.
But accepting it.
39
Epiphany
Thick tendrils of fog filled the world, covering the camps and the battle that lay beyond in it. But the roar and clangs and cries of horses and sounds of death and terror reached me and I shivered, hair on my arms rising.
And then the sky exploded.
A blast of pure, searing light blinded everything for a heartbeat.
I considered turning back. But no, I hadn’t come so far just to turn around. I had to speak to Valerian. Quickly. And then I’d return.
I turned a corner towards the stables.
The roof flamed, crackling, bits of it crumbling as a fire grew on it. My heart stuttered, and I jumped off Meadow and tied her lead to the branch of a tree well away from the structure.
Panic flared through me, and I scrunched my fingers into the cloak I wore.
Oh gods.
Maybe Valerian wasn’t in there.
I edged up against the side of the building and pulled a door open.
Smoke billowed out.
And a terrified whinny echoed around the burning space.
If a horse was still inside, there wasn’t a chance Valerian had abandoned it. I took a step in, my legs trembling. “Valerian,” I yelled.
No answer.
Another crack snagged my attention, and more of the roof fell, flames hitting the straw on the ground, crawling up a beam.
I stepped back.
This building was about to go down.
Then someone ran in, scrambling over downed beams. His eyes focused on the lone creature that sat trapped in its stall.
“Valerian,” I screamed.
His focus broke, and he shifted towards me. “Pip, what are you doing here?”
“I had to—”
The fire roared and more of the roof clattered down. “Get out of here,” Val said as he attempted to shove a bridle over the horse’s head, but it jerked away from him, the white of its eyes showing. “I’ll meet you outside.”
“No, I’m not leaving you here.”
He hissed and clenched the leather straps in his grip against the wood before opening the stall and smacking the horse’s haunch. The creature reared up, panicking, and ran out into the smoke towards the door.
“Come on,” Val said, reaching for my hand. “Let’s go.”
I grasped his fingers. His calluses grazed against my flesh. And a rightness settled in me. This was who I belonged with. This was where I should be.
