Hollywood intro to a dream scene or mirage. His wings beat the rippling air toward the titans. Those closest began to sway, as if he were sending them to sleep. Then there was a raptor-cry from within the melee and a second winged figure rose up, this one from among the ranks of titans—a flying female, half woman, half bird of prey.
She flew at Hypnos, and as they grappled in the air, his waves ceased. The titans shook off their strange affect, and renewed their attacks with double their ferocity. We couldn’t stay on the sidelines. I just had to figure out where we’d do the most good.
There!” Apollo said, as if he’d read my mind. He pointed to a spot of high ground that would have been a spectator section during the Pythian Games where the Amazons were already spreading out for a good clear shot at our enemies.
I nodded, took two steps in that direction, and seized up as something took control of my body. No, not something…
I cried out a warning to Apollo, but it came out just a strangled sound. He whirled, though, in time to catch me as I fell forward, fighting Rhea for control. Losing.
And then suddenly I was pushing Apollo away with a strength not my own and swinging for him in a way that would snap his head around…and maybe a few vertebrae. He caught my fist before it could connect, but in that instant my other hand lashed out, aiming for something a lot more vulnerable. My hand like a talon, I caught and gripped Apollo’s bait and tackle, twisting mercilessly. His eyes got big and betrayed, and he started to buckle to the ground. I let go and used the fist he’d been holding to knock him aside. Even as he rolled, my leg shot up, ready to stomp down on him, but he did the unexpected. He rolled back toward me, grabbed the stomping leg and twisted. I went down on top of him, but kicked hard as I fell, managing to land a blow on his thigh, very close to those bits I’d already manhandled. His eyes filled with pained tears and I—Rhea—rolled away and shot to my feet, reaching for the bow and arrows strapped to my back.
Rhea loaded a crossbow bolt and pointed it down at Apollo, straight at his heart. Weapon cocked and ready, my gaze zeroed in on the sight, preparing to pierce him through.
Frantically, I fought to regain control of my body, flinging myself against invisible barriers, trying to get through to myself or even just mess up the signals, to save Apollo as he’d saved me so many times. I might as well have been a firefly beating at a glass jar.
Something flew up into Rhea’s peripheral vision, but she didn’t blow her aim by looking. I started to release the bolt, knowing that this was it—that Apollo’s death would break his hold on Delphi, the naval of the world. Rhea would capture the lashing rein, Delphi’s power once again hers to command.
My panic meter went to eleven.
The pain struck from out of the blue—a bolt to the chest. So stunning it took a second to register anything but that I had missed the shot, which had gone wide. Rhea looked down in disbelief to see an arrow sticking out of our chest, just inches shy of my heart.
She bellowed in more anger than pain, and immediately wrapped a hand around the shaft to pull it out.
I smashed through with everything I had, knocking her hand away. The shock was all that allowed it, I was sure.
Apollo kicked my legs out from under me as I stood there wavering, my body ready to topple as Rhea and I fought for control.
I went down in a heap and my sight caught on what had moved in my peripheral vision—a winged boy, teenager anyway, all tussled hair and shining eyes, wearing little more than a bow and arrows. Cupid? I’d been downed by
My vision started to swim as Apollo kicked the bow out of my hand.
“Tori?” he asked.
He looked strange from this angle—him up, me down, the rising sun behind him lighting up his hair like a halo around his head. Put him together with Cupid’s wings and he’d look like an angel.
Was I delirious with pain?
“She’s not my only one,” Rhea’s voice issued from my lips, and then she was gone.
I was left cold. So cold. Numb. I could barely feel the pain anymore, and I wasn’t sure that was a good thing with no Hecate available to heal me.
“Go,” I said, faintly. Breath was hard, and I thought I felt fluid in it, like maybe the arrow had pierced something never meant to be pierced. “Fight. Win.”
Apollo looked at me for another moment and then threw himself down on top of me, careful of the arrow.
He muttered something against my lips. It tickled. I wanted to breathe in his warmth, but that was getting harder and harder.
Then he kissed me, lips on mine, but softly, no more than a touch. For a second, he seemed to be breathing for me and something passed between us. Something profound. If he was opening up another damned gateway in my mind or another unwanted link, I was going to be pissed…though I didn’t see how that would matter for much longer.
When he pulled away, the numbness had spread, and I couldn’t even blink. If my eyes closed, fine. Otherwise, I was going to see the battle through to the bloody end…mine.
He gave a quick caress to my face, grabbed my bow off the ground as a backup for his own and ran off, Cupid flying beside him, firing as he flew.
I was left behind, staring wide-eyed at the battle, helpless.
On the field was chaos. Arrows and crossbow bolts struck the titans but not with the same success they’d had against me. Meanwhile, hellhounds were being hurled yelping through the air or being crunched between monstrous teeth. Hypnos and the eagle-woman had fallen to the ground, but he was rising again, though with tears in the membrane of his wings. Still, he was able to take to the air, if nowhere near as gracefully as before. Thanatos, Hades and the heroes slashed again and again, but didn’t look like they were gaining ground, except what the titans gave in their push forward to overrun the Olympians on the other end of the field.
From that far end, lightning flashed, but it was more electric shock than branch or ball lighting, as though Zeus was up too high to gather the full force of his storms. Rhea had chosen her battleground well.
And then my heart went cold. Figures came running toward my high ground.
All my fault.
They lined up along the spectator section of the stadium opposite the Amazons. I tried to get up, to distract them or fight as they started to take aim at Althea, Junessa and the others and…nothing…I couldn’t move.
I felt pinned to the ground by the arrow in my chest, staked like a modern-day vampire. I knew it was stupid. I knew it was probably the loss of blood making me so weak, but the feeling wouldn’t leave me. I had to pull the arrow. It was the right thing to do. Precognition or delusion? What did it matter when I couldn’t even move?
With a monumental effort, I made my hand move. Just the one farthest from the arrow and just a flop, but I was amazed even at that. It was a start. I focused, pouring every ounce of strength I had into that one arm, praying that my last dose of ambrosia wasn’t all used up and out of my system.
I’d never been patient. Imminent death certainly wasn’t going to change that.
The hand moved. Slowly, painfully. It felt like
