Page 95 of The Gods Forbid

“Just wanted to get this over with.” Prophecies took a physical toll, and I wasn’t all that pleased with the idea that Persy might see me writing in pain or casting up my breakfast on the limestone floor.

“What makes you think I have a prophecy for you?” Pythia asked, just to be difficult.

“I’m an expert at this point, don’t you think?” I preemptively kneeled, knowing she’d force me down eventually. “You can stop acting like I’m not your favorite.”

Pythia leaned close, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You’re different,” she said, pressing her pointer finger into my forehead, her nail digging into my skin. “More … sunlight. Your power feels fresh.”

“You have her to thank for that one,” I said, matching her quiet tone so the her in question couldn’t hear us. “But you already knew that.”

“Be careful with prophecy, Apollo. It is not always what you think it to be.” The spot where her finger was digging into my forehead started to buzz, her power preparing to launch itself into me.

“You would know,” I gritted out behind a clenched jaw.

Too snippy for Pythia’s liking apparently, because seconds later I was at her mercy, pain radiating down my limbs as she forced my fourth prophecy on me.

My mind bent and warped around the vision, finally grasping it and exposing an expansive, never ending city skyline in front of me. Everything was gray and drab, with people moving through the streets with their heads hung low and their movements slow.

I was standing on a hill, watching them move and shuffle about like their souls were drained of any joy. I turned to find Persy standing next to me, staring down at them with tears in her eyes.

“What happened?” I asked, reaching towards her with both hands, or at least I tried to. I didn’t move an inch. She didn’t answer me, just curled her arms around her midriff and stared down at the city.

Buildings were crumbling. Everything looked dilapidated and old, like no one had cared to keep any of it up. “What happened?” I asked again.

Persy turned to look at me then, her eyes widening in shock. “Oh, you’re here,” she said, without an ounce of emotion in her voice.

“Where else would I be?” There was far too much truth in that statement.

Persy shrugged passively, void of any of the light I was used to seeing in her. “Dead,” she said. “Took everything with you.”

My eyes snapped back towards the city, finding the gray skies meeting the horizon first. The sun had disappeared. Not in the sense that it was hidden behind clouds, but like it hadn’t ever been there in the first place.

There was no music filling the streets. There were no conversations. No art. No light.

No Apollo.

Persy didn’t need to explain it to me. I understood. This was what was going to happen if I died without heirs. Heirs I had yet to appoint. Persy hadn’t brought it up in over a month, but I knew she was aware of it.

“How did I die?” I asked, the vision pulling it out of my throat rather than my thoughts doing it.

Persy just shook her head, refusing to answer. She started mumbling under her breath, something I couldn’t quite hear. Based on the way her lips were moving, I thought she was saying no over and over again.

My eyes traveled back to the city, landing on someone limping down the street, leaving a trail of blood in their wake. I hoped they were heading for a hos—

No Apollo, no medicine. No hospitals.

Shit.

My chest started to stir in anxiety, and at that moment, Pythia released me from the vision. I felt sick, like I was about to throw up, but I held it in.

I sucked in a breath, but couldn’t get enough air.

“It won’t take that much to kill you,” Pythia said, dragging her hand down my face to settle over my heart. “Even you aren’t safe from your own creations.”

Vague, haunting, and ominous. Par for the course, where she was concerned. It felt like she was still spinning prophecies.

“I hear you,” I said, pushing the words out. I was stubborn, but I wasn’t stupid. I knew the risk of gallivanting about the world without heirs to save me, but I’d been locked away in Prometheus. But something about it didn’t feel right. It was Persy’s one goal with me, and yet it was the thing that seemed hardest to do. “I’ll do it.”

Pythia pushed her hand into my heart, knocking me back on my haunches. “I will not tolerate otherwise.”