The harpy plunges lower, aiming for my head. I grab the new sword Triton supplied for me when gathering new weapons after Gorgon Island and swat the feathered beast away. My sword clangs metallically against its talons, glancing off. I don’t have any force behind my blows. It’s hard enough just lifting my blade into the air.
The harpy must know I’m an easy target. Its beady eyes focus in on me again and again, and its rough feathers brush against the top of my head as I duck out of the way.
Royce manages to cut into the birdwoman’s wing as it swoops by. The creature crashes into the grass, staining it with blood and feathers. It cries out as it hops around with one wing before the noise is cut off with a gurgle as Royce stabs it through the chest.
But a sound rises above it.
“Lenny!” Phipps screams.
A harpy has latched on to Lenny’s shoulders and is pulling him into the sky. Lenny kicks and squirms, but he can’t break free.
Phipps races along the grass below the creature, stumbling under the weight of his arm. When he starts to fall behind, he stops short, then drops to the ground and finds a rock. He launches it at the beast, hitting it square in the back of its head.
“Close your eyes, Lenny,” he cries.
He digs deep into his pocket. And I watch as he pulls something small out and turns away just as the harpy looks toward him, renewed rage on its face.
But the creature doesn’t make it any farther. It turns instantly to stone, dropping straight toward the earth with Lenny in tow. Lenny is locked in the bird’s frozen grip, unable to get out from under its descending weight.
Royce takes off at a sprint. He collides with Lenny just before he brushes the top of the grass. The hit gives them both enough momentum to avoid being crushed under the majority of the stone harpy’s enormous weight as it drops to the ground and cracks into hundreds of pieces.
“Lenny!” Phipps scrambles through the grass, knocking away chunks of rock until he finds his brother.
Lenny sits up groggily but seems unhurt besides some cuts where the bird’s talons had ahold of him.
Reassured his brother is okay, Phipps starts holding the object above his head and the harpies start dropping. Slowly, the number of harpies dwindles until Hettie severs a talon of one and it flies off alone.
She has blood streaming down her face, but I don’t think much if any is hers. Her eyes are wild and her chest heaves as she scans the skies. When it’s clear the creatures aren’t returning, she wipes off her blade and stomps through the grass and accumulation of twisted feathers. She heads straight to Rhat, who’s cradling his arm. Hettie helps him take off his ripped shirt, tearing it into long sheets to wrap around his shoulder.
Across the field, other sailors are patching up scrapes across their scalps and cuts up and down their arms and necks. We don’t look like a force ready to take on Dionysus.
My hand shakes as I slide my sword away, and I can’t help but notice the green veins making their way to the ends of my fingertips. Despite the heat in the core of my body, my fingers and toes feel oddly numb.
I try not to think about what that means.
“Two men are dead, Captain,” a sailor says to Royce.
Royce nods stoically.
I try not to dwell on the sailors who won’t be returning home, who died bravely in battle. If I do, it’ll crush me. Instead, I think about all the people we’re fighting to save.
Hettie rises, helping Rhat to his feet. “I didn’t think it was possible to dislike Dionysus even more, but he’s going to pay for this.”
“We’re lucky Phipps figured out how to stop them,” Rhat says. He rotates his shoulder around, testing it, but winces with the movement.
“What did you do?” Hettie asks Phipps.
Phipps ducks his head and slips the object back into his pocket, wrapping it in a handkerchief. “I may have taken a souvenir from one of the gorgons. No one will mess with the man with a gorgon eye.”
“Did you take anything else?” Royce asks.
“Well—” Phipps says.
“Phipps,” Royce says with underlying warning.
“Two eyes. But they’re mostly for Lenny. I didn’t know what we’d be facing here, and he’s not great with a sword yet.”
While Phipps might be telling the truth, I also don’t doubt he had some scheme to either sell them or put on some sort of show where people paid to see them. But we could deal with that later.
“Could we use them against Dionysus?” Hettie asks.
I shake my head. “If they didn’t work on Triton, I doubt they’ll work on Dionysus.”
“Be careful with them,” Royce says. He gazes down to Lenny.
“Aye, Captain.” Phipps gives his best salute. Lenny follows suit.
“Let’s get out of here before any more of those things show up,” I say.
We trudge through the grasses, and Hettie helps me wade through because my feet have gone entirely numb. Once we hit the tree line, she lets me rest for a moment, tilting me against a fallen tree trunk.
I suck in air. It feels like I’m breathing through a layer of water. I close my eyes against the pain racing its way through me, but Hettie’s words make me open them again.
“It happened when you were helping me, didn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?” I say.
Her eyes brim with tears. “I heard you cry out. On the island.”
“It’s not your fault, Hettie,” I say.
She cradles her forehead in her hands, wiping away the sweat. “I shouldn’t have gone off like that. I wanted to kill Dionysus so badly. He caused so much of this, took so much from us, and if I focused on that I didn’t have to . . . I didn’t have to . . .” she trails off, dabbing at her tears, refusing to let them fall.
“Hettie—” I reach out to her, but she shakes me away.
“No! Ever since my father died, I’ve been filled with anger. If you’re full of anger, you don’t have to feel the pain. And I didn’t want to feel it—or anything. I thought killing Dionysus would make it all go away. But now—now I’m losing you too.”
I open my mouth to tell her she’s not losing me, but I look down at the green veins covering the entirety of my hands. But it’s not just my veins. My skin has taken on a putrid color, overpowering the golden hue I’ve grown so used to. My fingers are cracked and wrinkled, like they’re shriveling up and dying.
I pull Hettie close to me, breathing in the scent of sweat, sea air, and the sweetness I’d always associated with her. “Oh, Hettie.”
“I can’t lose you too. Not now,” she says, taking a shuddering breath. “I can’t do this. Not after—” She turns away.
“You survived that—”
She crosses her arms. “I didn’t love him. I hid behind my anger so I wouldn’t have to admit that. So I wouldn’t have to come to terms with the fact that I wanted him to love me, that now I’ll never get that. Now, I’ll never have the chance.” She shoves her damp hair away from her face, and her eyes soften. “But you—I can still save you. Let me take one of the pegasi and look for a cure—for something to help. Please, this is all my fault. Let me make it better. I can’t lose you. I won’t.”
“It’s not your fault. I knew the risks better than anybody.” I inhale. “There’s nothing that can help now. We won’t find Panacea or Hebe in time. I made that choice so we could save Lagonia. And I need you here to help me do that. I need you to be strong for both of us. We can’t fail now. Not this close.”
She leans against me, breathing heavily across my neck as she buries her head against me, squeezing me tighter than she ever has.
“This is for Lagonia,” I say. “We only fail if we don’t stop Dionysus. Don’t let this be in vain. Be the fighter I know you are.” She sniffles and nods against me.
“And Hettie—” My voice cracks. I’d been trying not to think about this, but there is no way out now. “I need you to look after my father if—if—” I can’t finish the sente
nce.
“Oh, Kora, no.”
“He’s going to need someone.” Tears slide down my cheeks into her hair. “So are you. Promise me you won’t hide away. Lagonia’s going to need you.”
Her eyes are puffy and red as she pulls back to look me in the eye. “I—” Her voice breaks, and she takes a moment to steel herself. She looks like she doesn’t want to answer. But after she sucks in a breath, she says, “I promise.”
I squeeze her hand. “Let’s finish this together.”
She wipes her tears away and straightens. She clenches her jaw and stares off into the jungle shadows. “Dionysus doesn’t know what’s coming for him.”
“That’s right,” I say.
She props me against her side and pulls me farther into the trees, unaware that each heartbeat in my chest is getting slower and slower and slower.
CHAPTER 26
My vision starts to blur. Shadows jump around the jungle floor, and there’s a loud, constant humming in my ears. A bee floats in front of my face. Maybe that’s where the humming comes from. But bees don’t belong in jungles. Then again, harpies don’t typically belong in fields.
I swat the bug away, but my hand doesn’t connect with anything. Yet the bee still lingers before me. I squint and wipe away the sweat from my eyes, wondering if I’m starting to hallucinate too.
I’m about to ask if anyone else sees the bee when Lenny starts pointing to his ears.
The humming gets louder.
When I look toward where I saw the insect, it’s gone. I scan the area but can’t find anything. Then why is the humming growing louder?
Everyone quiets as the forest reverberates around us.
“Bees!” someone cries.
I turn to see a hoard of bees hurtling our direction. The closer they get, the bigger they get. Their abdomens are the size of my torso. Each of their black legs is thicker then one of my fingers. But it’s their stingers my eyes jump to. Their pointed shape looks sharper than any spear.
The bees’ clear wings reflect the light coming through the trees as they zoom closer.
Hettie grabs my shoulder, and we stumble through the jungle. Branches and palm fronds slap across my face and snare my legs. Thick vines tangle in front of us like a curtain. I shove through with all my remaining strength, but the vines continue to stretch on for a good long while.
I let Hettie pull me along, but my mind is elsewhere. The bees don’t seem to be getting any closer. The one I saw before didn’t attack either. I’d thought it was a small, little bee, but what if it had been a monstrous one, only been so far away I’d thought it was small?
I shake my head. None of this is making sense.
Hettie is so covered in perspiration she keeps losing her grip on me. I cling to her shirt, her shoulders, anything I can to stay with her. If she lets go, I doubt she’ll be able to get me back up before the bees reach us.
The horde bursts through the vines behind us, knocking them aside as if they were blades of grass.
Two soldiers cry out as they stumble and fall.
But the bees don’t swarm them like I expect.
Before I can figure it out, though, the men have regained their footing, and we’re off racing through the jungle once more.
My heart pounds in my chest, drowning out the buzzing.
I try to suck in air, but a rattling sound rushes around in my lungs. My eyelids sag. I just want to rest, to sleep.
Hettie’s firm grasp around my waist is the only thing that keeps me going. But even her steps are growing shorter and shorter. She gulps in air, heaving for breath.
“Hang in there.” She adjusts her hold on me again, and I’m not sure if the words are for her benefit or mine.
Her grip loosens again. As she moves to tighten it, she doesn’t lift her foot as high as she should. It catches on a root, and then we’re tumbling forward.
My arms barely react enough to do anything to break my fall. Roots dig into my stomach and knees as I land on hard dirt.
“Come on, Kora.” Hettie’s already on her feet and pulling at my arms.
The bees cloud into my vision as they hover above us. Their wings pound so hard they send the fallen leaves spiraling into the air.
“Just go, Hettie.”
A stubborn look crosses her face. “No.”
With a strength I didn’t know she had, she yanks me to my feet.
We’re behind the rest of the crew, but Hettie runs with renewed vigor.
The bees stay just behind us. Never touching us. Never increasing their pace. They easily could’ve swept in and stung me or carried me off. But they haven’t.
Something clicks in my mind. “They’re corralling us.”
“What?” Hettie cries over the buzzing.
“They’re leading us to something.”
Hettie risks a look over her shoulder, but then we’re crashing through the brush and out into a patch of bright sunlight.
At first, I think we’ve arrived at another field full of harpies, but there’s no tall, dried-out grass here. Only neatly trimmed green grass. As my eyes adjust, I make out long rows. A vineyard.
We’ve made it. Dionysus’s vineyard.
Row upon row of plump purple grapes hang from vines. I’ve never seen so many grapes in my life. Each one looks delicious, and I realize how thirsty I am.
But Triton’s words float through my mind.
I open my mouth to tell the others who’ve stumbled out of the forest not to touch any of the fruit.
Before the words can leave my mouth, one final sailor stumbles from the jungle and crashes into the nearest row, knocking several grapes to the ground as he catches himself on the vines. Several more grapes fall, rolling into the dirt to rest there.
Seconds tick by. Nothing happens.
I exhale.
But just as I do, vines shoot out from the plant.
They wrap around the man like a snake, pulling tighter and tighter the higher they spiral around his body.
Men rush to help him, but each one is spun into a cocoon of vines as more race out.
Men pull out their swords and start hacking at the vines. But for every one they cut off, two more seem to appear. The vineyard comes to life as branches dart from every row and race toward us.
Next to me, Hettie goes down. She chops at the green stalks with her sword, but another vine rushes forward and snares her wrist, pulling so tight she releases her sword.
I cry out and stumble toward her. Vines scratch against my ankles, twisting their way up my body. I kick at them and lose my balance.
The vines curl around and around and up and up. The rattle in my chest cuts off as the vines constrict, heading for my neck, looping tighter and tighter.
I gasp, but no air enters my lungs.
Next to me, Phipps is on his knees. His arms break free for a second before the vines lash them to his sides again.
“Lenny,” he screams over and over again before a vine swirls around his neck, pulling him to the ground.
I catch sight of Lenny next to him. He’s wrapped from his thighs to his chest. He wriggles back and forth. But he doesn’t appear to be fighting against the vines. It’s as if he’s positioning himself.
The vines move a little farther up his hips. With unmatched flexibility, he kicks his leg upward, wraps his toes around one of the vines, and pulls. The vine snaps.
That’s the last thing I see as rough green vines slither across my face and coil around my head.
The vines scrape against my skin. The earthy scent overwhelms my senses as my nose smushes inward and my lips push against my teeth until I taste blood. The vines compress tighter and tighter. My head pounds. My skull feels on the verge of cracking.
Even if I could suck in air from the slits between the vines, they’re wrapped too tightly for my chest to move. My throat constricts. My lungs burn.
And then I’m breathing.
Sunlight streams in above me.
A small, shadowy figure crouch
es over me, sawing at the vines. There’s a crisp snap as each one breaks.
The figure moves. It’s Lenny. He has a knife in his hand, slicing through my binds while he uses his feet to snap through the vines that try to tangle him up.
I struggle free from the cocoon, coughing for air, and see Lenny’s already gotten several others free. Phipps works on getting Rhat out while Hettie fights a vine intent on getting to them all. Her hair’s come undone, and she looks positively wild the way she swings her sword.
Royce emerges from the next clump of vines and immediately joins the fight to free his crew. A vine slips around his ankle.
“Look out,” I scream, my voice barely rising above the noise around me.
Royce falls to his knees as the vine yanks backward, but he doesn’t stop hacking through the vines constricting the man in front of him.
I crawl forward. Using as much force as I can muster, I ram my blade down into the vine, pinning it to the ground. The vine thrashes and shakes.
My sword won’t hold it long. And even as I watch, more vines shoot out of the cursed vineyard to assail us.
Exhausted, I collapse against the nearest trellis, sending grapes plummeting down. My chest wheezes as I gasp for breath.
More and more vines shoot out toward my friends.
I need to get up. I need to do something.
I pull myself up the trellis, but my legs give out. I stumble to the side, glancing off the next trellis and into the grapes’ leafy branches. I reach for them, trying to stand. They rip away from their supports, and I land back in a heap on the ground as the plants tangle above me.
I fling the tattered branches away, and I notice something unusual. These aren’t individual plants. This is one long string of grapes hanging from one vine.
“They’re all connected,” I whisper.
I crawl back toward the battlefield, but a coughing fit stops me in my tracks. I heave in and out as my insides constrict, sending spasms of pain rippling beneath my skin. For a moment, I think my lungs have finally given up, but after what feels like ages, I finally choke in a short breath. Again and again I force air down until I have enough to call out.
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