Page 147 of Blood of Olympus

And we will keep sending them back to the abyss.

I conjured the familiar weight of a shadow dagger in my palm as Vel arced back around, and summoned a length of shadowy rope in the other.

“Ready. In three...”

Two…

“One.”

She ceased flapping for all of two heartbeats — enough time for me to send the dagger whirling through the air, end over end, until it lodged itself neatly in the eye of the wolf-headed predator. The instant I’d let the blade loose, my left arm snapped out. The rope flew through the air and coiled around the body of the child, still standing agape in the middle of the street. And as Velira’s wings resumed their steady beat, we soared high above the buildings with a shadowbound boy in tow.

He shrieked as his feet left the ground, flailing and failing to escape the confines of his binding. But my shadows would not let the boy fall until I was ready to set him loose.

Vel bee-lined to the flat, empty expanse of sand beyond the border of the city, where so few refugees were fleeing. They screamed as she neared, fearing their demise at the tongue of a dragon — a dragon they did not know would face certain death for them.

I shifted in the saddle, their cries resting uneasily upon my shoulders.

Fear not, Vel soothed. They do not yet know me. They do not yet know us. But they will.

A hundred mortals cowered as Velira hovered above them. Thankfully, within their midst, I spotted the tall, lithe form of the god of healing. Apollo was dashing between bodies, tending to each of their wounds as fast as he could manage, with Hestia on his tail helping as much as she was able.

As I lowered the boy to the waiting arms of an Athenian warrior, I met the gaze of the sun god. Faster than a darting hare, his right hand shot out and formed the shape of a singular word.

Land.

“Vel, Apollo wants us to land for a moment.”

As you wish — though my claws are not yet thoroughly soaked in the blood of our enemies.

Patience, you violent beast. The day is still young.

She made a low growl deep in her throat, so rumbling I could feel the vibration up my legs, but did as I asked and alighted just south of the group of mortals.

Apollo was there before she had time to tuck her wings in, impatiently for her to settle. Without even waiting for me to dismount, his umber hands were flitting through the air with much less grace than I was accustomed to seeing from him.

He is here. I can feel him.

Who? I signed back. Kronos? My blood boiled at the mere thought that that overly enlarged phallus-shaped god could be here… that today might be the day I can slake my thirst for vengeance.

Apollo shook his head, the golden beads in his dreadlocks catching the sunlight as he moved. No. Not Kronos… his brother.

My brows scrunched as I looked back at the burning city. I scanned it quickly, searching for something we might have missed — some clue as to which brother Apollo could feel.

“Ouch!” I snarled at the pebble that landed in my lap after successfully bouncing off the side of my head, and glared at the god who dared throw it.

My apologies. He grimaced. But you robbed me of the chance to speak further when you diverted your gaze to the remains of Hellespont. He raised one dark brow in silent reprimand.

My stomach dropped as I heeded the truth of that statement.

Whoops, I signed with a wince.

His other dark brow rose to join the other, lingering halfway between his golden eyes and midnight hair. Whoops, indeed. In any case, have you noticed how the fire burns without heat? Or how the day is so glaringly bright it feels as though Helios focuses his attentions solely on us?

I considered his questions, surprised to realise that what he’d noticed was true — and that I had failed to see it until pointed out.

Helios is here? He is no brother of Kronos.

Apollo crossed his arms, letting me add the particulars together.