She kicked backward, her heel colliding with his knee. He staggered, loosening his grip. She spun in place and, with every last ounce of her strength and resolve, decked him in the jaw. Chrysander’s eyes rolled and he fell back, deadweight.
Galene hesitated only an instant, just long enough to take in his slack face, then sprinted for Kostas.
He wasn’t moving—his eyes were closed, his skin beaded with sweat. No no no no no. His face was contorted into a mask of pain. Ichor soaked his tunic and pooled beneath his neck.
She dropped to his side and brushed his cheek. “Kostas?” Tears welled against her eyelashes. His eyes opened, and a weak smile spread across his face.
“Sorry to scare you,” he whispered, reaching up to tuck her hair back. Galene clasped his hand and held it to her trembling lips. “It’s going to be okay.”
She smiled and nodded, holding up the avyssos so he could see. “You did it.”
“Yes, I did,” he groaned. “I told you. You and Braxtus.”
“I’m going to get him out.”
His head flinched in a nod. “You have to save Olympus.” His eyes fluttered and he groaned. “I … think I’ll take Apollo’s advice now. You know, stay out of the fight. Rest. Recover.”
She let out a choked laugh and leaned over quickly, sweeping down to kiss his forehead. “We’ll get you taken care of.”
“First things first,” he said, sending a pointed look to the avyssos.
“First things first,” she agreed.
Galene let his hand fall from her fingers, then stood, looking up the mountain.
The army above her roiled, somehow more chaotic than before. She took a step toward the enemy masses. A roar rose from the trailing end of Poinê’s ranks, a shout that was taken up and passed among them, rising higher along the mountain. “Poinê is dead!”
Chills ran down Galene’s spine as the end of the army shifted their focus, turning toward her. She tightened her fingers around the cold orb.
She had to get the avyssos to the Olympians. But they’re all the way at the boundary line.
“Galene!”
She spun toward Iyana as her best friend rushed in her direction. Sweat stuck her hair to her neck, and her hands were stained with ichor, but she looked relatively unharmed.
“Iyana!” Galene ran the last few steps to her and clasped her arm. “You’re all right!”
“I’m fine. Kostas?” She looked past her, eyes widening.
“He’ll survive. What happened to Demitri?”
“I left him back there.” She jerked her head, and Galene looked over her shoulder at an unmoving figure in the dirt beyond her.
“Is he—”
“He’s alive. We need him to clear your name.”
Galene nodded gratefully, though she wasn’t sure she would feel any worse if Demitri had been killed. She glanced back up the mountain.
A few dozen of Poinê’s soldiers had broken away from the back of the battle, drawing quickly closer.
There was no way she and Iyana could fight them off by themselves. And more would soon follow, fighting over the avyssos.
“Iyana, we need to get Braxtus, Artemis, and Ares out of here.” She raised the avyssos. “We need their help protecting it until the Olympians can take over.”
Iyana’s face lit with relief and joy, tears gathering in her eyes. “So he is in there. Demitri didn’t kill him.”
Pain stabbed Galene’s heart at the thought of Iyana believing, even for a moment, that Braxtus was dead. “I saw Demitri trap him in it, but I have no idea how to—”
“Braxtus saw Poinê open it on the island,” Iyana interrupted. She looked around sharply. “We need fire.”
Between the dragons and Braxtus’s battle with Demitri, fire was not hard to come by. Leaving Kostas behind them, they ran until they reached a flaming patch of grass.
“Drop it in,” Iyana ordered.
Galene gaped at her. “What?”
“That’s what he said she did. Drop it in the flames!”
Galene looked at the fragile orb between her fingers, but stepped forward, stretching out her hand to toss the glimmering avyssos into the fire.
Gold and silver erupted before her eyes, swallowing the rest of the world. A great void opened up within her mind. Endless. Desolate.
“Galene?” Iyana’s voice was distant, but it was there.
Where was she?
Iyana cried out and she heard the roar of wind. “Galene, hurry! Find Braxtus!”
Braxtus. As soon as she thought of him, her mind involuntarily shifted through the space, moving through the nothingness until it wasn’t empty anymore. She sensed something. A familiar presence.
Braxtus?
Galene?
Galene’s heart took flight as his weak voice echoed through her mind. She focused, the avyssos creating a link between them. Unsure if she was doing the right thing, Galene took a deep breath and, with a surge of willpower, pulled.
Galene felt Braxtus’s consciousness slip by, filtering through to escape his prison. Galene shook her mind out of the avyssos and blinked back into reality.
A roaring tornado swirled with dirt and grass all around them, barely holding back a ring of enemies. Blades and pulses of power broke through the wall of wind on every side before being swept away. Iyana stood, arms out, hair flying, face screwed up in concentration. Between them, Braxtus solidified, coalescing into a form that slumped to the ground. Bruises and ichor stained his face, and he clutched his left leg, groaning in pain.
“Iyana!” Galene yelled, scrambling over to him. Iyana made a desperate sound through clenched teeth, but otherwise didn’t respond.
Braxtus used Galene’s arm to pull himself up, hopping into a shaky stance beside Iyana.
Flames erupted from his hands, sucking into Iyana’s cyclone. Blazing light flooded the area as the tornado turned to fire, gold and red streaking by, scorching heat bearing down on her.
The monsters on the other side reared back and cried out, but they did not retreat.
Iyana and Braxtus looked at each other, flames dancing in both of their eyes. “We’ve got this, Galene,” Braxtus shouted. “Get the others out!”
Galene grabbed the avyssos, now lying in blackened grass. Throwing it into another patch of flames, Galene opened her mind to the gold and silver rain, diving into the metallic void and calling out for Artemis. She heard her enraged war cry and felt her within. Seizing her with her consciousness, she yanked the Olympian free. She emerged, silvery blonde curls tossing from the firestorm around them, immediately assessing the situation. Galene scrambled in front of her for the avyssos, then jumped back in.
Ares’s consciousness was livid, his bellows becoming all too real beside her, eyes blood-red.
Without missing a second, Ares hauled a giant shield from his back and leapt through the firestorm, breaking the wall just long enough for Artemis to draw a slender sword and charge after him. Galene took an instant to wonder if he had even noticed being trapped, then looked through the fire up the mountain.
Through the occasional break in the flames whipping by, she saw the enemies of Olympus turning. They must all have finally caught on, word spreading about their leader’s death and the avyssos falling into Galene’s possession. Though Ares, Artemis, Iyana, and Braxtus valiantly held off the few dozen swarming around them, they wouldn’t be able to withstand the entire army.
A raging mass began charging toward them.
Galene looked to the flaming winds, Braxtus and Iyana working side by side to fight off nearly half of the host themselves. They poured their energy into sustaining such a massive force, but their frames shook, sweat pouring down their faces. They were close to falling.
She looked down at the globe in her hand.
“Spin it!”
Galene turned to the voice shouting above the din. Braxtus’s eyes locked on the avyssos, and he managed one more time, “Spin it!”
Galene obeyed, taking the delicat
e object and spinning it on her palm.
A sudden power emanated from the avyssos, racing up her arm and into her head.
In her mind’s eye she saw the life surrounding her—Braxtus and Iyana keeping the tornado alive, soldiers and creatures battling Ares and Artemis, fighting to get to her through the flames. The power zapped, wanting to lash out.
She directed it at a raging minotaur.
It seized the beast, drawing it in. Galene saw, in that picture in her mind, as it vanished just beyond the whirling flames.
Immediately, a buildup of energy inside the avyssos threatened to unleash a shock wave.
Galene let out a gasp. It was a tide like the ocean’s. Drawing something into the avyssos pulled with it a power that now fought to be released. Give and take. It explained the shock waves that erupted when gods had been trapped.
The understanding vibrated through her. It suddenly felt like her right to control the avyssos. She gave a grim smile, holding back the avyssos’s shock wave like she would a tide. She wasn’t done yet.
Tightening her grip on its power, Galene reached out for more monsters, and found the avyssos had a limit. The power couldn’t stretch to the army charging down the mountain—it reached only the dozen or so enemies still fighting in the ring of the battle around them, but she snatched those within her grasp.
Those she targeted vanished, and the pressure came to a peak.
She let it go.
The detonation blasted the firestorm outward, flames racing across the battlefield. The wave of energy flattened everything in its path, down the mountain and up to the towers of Olympus, toppling the army.
No one could doubt she had the avyssos now. Instead of fear, confidence bloomed in her chest.
Iyana helped Braxtus to his feet, the two of them gasping, the flaming whirlwind completely gone. She turned to Ares, only to find him charging, running sword-first toward the wall of an army coming for them. Artemis put her fingers to her lips and let out an unnaturally loud whistle. Far up the mountain, a chariot drawn by four pegasi launched into the sky.
Athena’s magnified voice swept down the mountain and rang in Galene’s ears. “Hold your ground. We’re coming for the avyssos.”
Hold your ground. Galene stared down at the avyssos, then her eyes drifted to the army, back on its feet, maybe only a minute out.
“Come on,” Iyana panted to Braxtus. “One more time, just long enough for the Olympians to get here.” She raised her arms.
“No.” Galene stepped forward. “You’ve done enough. I can take care of this.”
They stared at her, Artemis eyeing her suspiciously, but Galene flexed her fingers into a tighter grip around the avyssos.
Then, alone, she strode toward the entire advancing army.
Gods and monsters hurtled toward her like a bellowing storm cloud, ready to devour her. Dragons took flight, roaring flames into the smoky sky. Harpies and gryphons soared over the army, overtaking those on foot. But Galene did not retreat.
She could see the whites of their eyes, the teeth behind their snarls. She raised her hand and spun the avyssos.
As soon as she sensed the end of the orb’s reach, monsters came crashing through it. Suddenly within her grasp, Galene used the new power racing through her to latch onto the enemy, and a crescent of monsters about fifty feet around her vanished into the avyssos. The resulting shock wave leveled the army.
Before they had fully risen, Galene called on the avyssos again. Another wave of enemies was drawn in. Another blast knocked them down.
With shrieks and bellows, the army of the avyssos began to flee. She snatched more and more of them, slowing their escape.
“Galene.” Somewhere outside herself, she heard the voice—calm but commanding. She pulled out of the avyssos’s power.
Artemis, mounted in her moon-silver chariot, swooped down beside her. The rush of pegasi wings swept the hair from Galene’s shoulders. “Get in.”
Galene climbed up beside her in the chariot. With a lurch, the pegasi leapt into the air and her stomach dropped as she watched the earth fall away.
In a moment of surprise, Galene realized they were not flying up toward the boundary, to the other Olympians, but out, chasing a group of the fleeing enemy.
Artemis was getting her closer, flying her around so she could finish off the whole army.
With a small, cold smile, Galene spun the avyssos.
Olympus felt shock wave after shock wave as she collected Poinê’s army. Artemis flew with acute precision, swooping low over the largest clumps of enemy soldiers. From the boundary line, having regrouped, the allies of Olympus charged the stragglers. The other Olympians launched into the skies or darted through the trees, helping.
Artemis directed the chariot back down the slope, to where a few were trying to escape the mountain. Galene closed her eyes, letting the avyssos paint the picture in her mind, reaching out—
The range of the avyssos enveloped a familiar, motionless enemy, wounded but still alive.
Chrysander.
Galene hesitated.
There was only one sentence the Olympians would give to a leader of this attack.
I can’t let him be killed.
She trapped him in the avyssos.
Exhaustion settled over her, and she gripped the rail with her free hand.
She and Artemis soared back up toward the border. Olympus broke into cheers, whooping, hugging, and crying at the shimmering boundary line.
They had won the war of the avyssos. Relief seeped through Galene, but she didn’t feel like celebrating. Not yet. Not as her vantage point showed her the hundreds of bodies littering the fields of her home.
54
BRAXTUS
Braxtus stared out at the battlefield, devoid of all enemies but the dead. Toward the boundary line towers, he could faintly see Galene in Artemis’s chariot, regrouping with the other Olympians.
They’d done it.
A breeze caressed his face, like the slightest touch of a comforting hand. He felt Iyana’s gaze on him before he turned and met her eyes.
Her windswept hair caught the light, her cheeks were flushed gold, eyes shining. He stopped breathing, taking her in.
She took a step toward him, then ran the last few feet and threw her arms around his neck. Sliding her fingers up through his hair, she pulled his face down to hers and kissed him.
Her kiss was fierce, demanding, but her lips felt soft against his mouth. Fire stoked in his chest—his heart swelled to near bursting. He skimmed his fingers over her arms, down her back to where her armor ended at her waist, pulling her against him. He kissed her back deeply.
She tasted like the wind, like a mountain spring. She tasted like home.
Iyana leaned into him, and the sudden extra pressure sent a jolt of agony tearing through his leg. He groaned, and Iyana jerked back.
“I’m so sorry!” She winced, then scowled as she looked at his leg. Fresh ichor began trickling down the side of it.
“It’s fine,” he said weakly, the heat of their kiss still thrumming through him, but she shook her head. Grabbing the hem of her tunic, she tore a strip off the bottom. He grimaced as she looped it around his thigh and cinched it off.
Iyana slid an arm around his waist to support him, and he leaned into her gratefully. She nodded up the mountain. “They’re coming.”
Braxtus looked up. Ares still seemed filled with bloodlust, snarling and prowling through the corpses, searching for more opponents. Beyond him, the rest of the glowing Olympians were streaking toward them, Zeus, Hermes, Apollo, and Artemis in the sky, the others on horseback.
The Gryphiekin landed in a cloud of dust, Apollo and Artemis close behind in blazing chariots. Galene leapt out and rushed over to them. Hermes shot past in his winged sandals, heading for one of the bodies on the ground farther down the mountain.
“Hermes is getting Kostas. He says he’ll bring him right to the healers,” Galene told them.
Braxtus exp
elled a breath as Hermes landed and scooped up an unconscious figure. “He’s okay?”
“He should be fine.”
“Where’s Poinê?” Athena asked as she rode up.
“Dead,” Galene pointed. “Somewhere back there.”
“And Chrysander Unnamed?”
“Also dead.”
Braxtus and Iyana both looked over at Galene in shock. She set her jaw.
Athena looked at Iyana. “What about Demitri Unnamed?”
She met her eyes. “I left him alive for questioning.”
Braxtus’s stomach jolted, and he followed Iyana’s pointing finger to a motionless lump in the grass, one he’d missed among the corpses. Iyana had bested Demitri, then left him alive. Her face was stoic, but sudden emotions churned Braxtus’s gut.
Bloodstained and grim, Apollo swung to the ground and walked over to Demitri, easily hoisting him off the ground by his armor, twisting an arm behind his back. “Shall we do this now?” he asked Zeus.
Zeus nodded, the rest of the Olympians stepping closer to form a formidable half-circle around them. Apollo’s hands began to glow once more, and after a few long moments, Demitri jerked his head up with a gasp.
His sharp blue eyes flashed to take in the scene, and Braxtus saw Apollo’s grip tighten on his arm. “Don’t try anything.”
A shadow of fear crossed Demitri’s face, then it hardened once more into a mask of defiance as he stared at the Olympians. Iyana’s grip tightened around Braxtus’s waist. Aphrodite took half a step toward her son, then faltered.
“Demitri Unnamed.” Zeus pinned him with his stare. “Did you or did you not plot to overthrow Olympus?”
He raised his chin. “I did.” His voice came out raw.
“And did you or did you not, as part of that plot, launch a violent attack on Olympus and frame Galene Unnamed?”
Galene stiffened beside him.
“I did.” Demitri narrowed his eyes. “I killed Endymion and created the beasts. I changed Apollo’s vision to frame Galene. Chrysander and I tricked Galene into retrieving the avyssos so we could wage war.”
“Why?” Aphrodite breathed.
The Immortal Game Page 29