Someone touched my shoulder. Startled, I looked up to see Phaedrus kneeling beside me, blood streaming from his arm to fuel the array of vines keeping the Hades’ Knights away from us.
His eyes darted between me and the spear lodged in Athena’s side. Reaching forward, he placed his hand on her wound, and her blood flowed around his fingers, plugging the gap shut.
It didn’t matter. He couldn’t save her. The damage was already done.
Meeting my eyes, Phaedrus blurted out a single word. “Elpis.” He winced, looking behind him as a knight nearly reached us. Vines rushed under his feet, wrapping around his greaves anddragging him back south.
“What?” I asked.
“Call upon your Elpis magic,” he shouted. “There is no healing that this world knows of, but yours is the closest thing to.”
What was he talking about? I couldn’t heal. Trying to save Athena was pointless.
“Trust me,” Phaedrus said.
Pointless . . .
The attempt would be futile. But there was no reason not totry.
Placing my hand on Athena’s flank, I remembered the day Seth had carried me through the darkness. Blue flowers, a sky brightened by the sun, the Empty disappearing into the nothingness from which it sprung.
Phaedrus’ hand tightened around mine. His blood trickled across my fingers.
Had I destroyed the Empty? Or had I healed a small part of the world?
Magic surged in my breast. Flowers burst from between the cracks in the road, vibrant and blue. Phaedrus’ blood fell upon them, staining them red.
Athena’s blood surged around her wound, and the spear crumbled into dust.
I gasped as familiar pain tore through me—the feeling of my very soul being spent. Brilliant light enveloped the square as something burst from Athena’s wound and ascended into the sky.
Bucking from my grip, Athena stood as the shimmering light faded and the flowers entwining her hooves wilted. Wings spread from her sides, growing from the jagged scars left behind by the spear.
I sat back, gaping at her.
“From the blood of death,” Phaedrus said, reciting a line from the old play. “The Pegasus rises.”
42
Seth
The lion’s jaw slammed into a building, crushing the stone between its powerful teeth. I hit the ground, shielding my head from the crumbling debris.
Arrows arced toward me from soldiers stationed on the walls. Lunging from the shadows, my serpent intercepted them, snatching the arrows in its jaws and turning them to dust.
I couldn’t strike at these men, couldn’t kill them. I intended to save more than simply the people—those who had sworn loyalty to my mother long ago would not meet death by my hands.
Ripping its head from the building, the lion snapped at me. Shooting to my feet, I flew backward—straight into the path of its serpentine tail. The lion’s maw raked up a section of the road as venomous jaws clamped down on my spear.
The towering shadow of my cobra lashed down on the chimera’s tail, grabbing the living snake’s throat in its shadows. Managing to break free, I stumbled out of its reach.
Every attack from my serpent was wearing the chimera down—but not quickly enough. Eris must have instructed it to destroy everything in sight. It had continued marching into the city, breathing fire on everything not yetcaught alight.
I gritted my teeth, desperately searching for a plan. There had to be a means to kill the damn thing.
A streak of white soared through the air, turning sharply above me before plunging downward toward the chimera. A flaming woman sat on the winged horse’s back—Seraphim. Whirling fire and blood spun through the chimera’s tail, severing the snake-head. It crashed into a bench, crushing it.
The winged horse flew past me, and Seraphim jumped from its back, scythe in hand. I blinked at her before gaping at the Pegasus that turned in an arc to fly back to us.
