Page 70 of Blood of Olympus

“He shadowstepped directly there.”

“That explains the look on your face,” he quipped, raising a solitary brow.

“What look?”

“It’s all scrunched up,” Evie offered.

“Like you’re constipated,” Erato added.

“Or you just smelled fresh shit,” Evie finished.

“Thanks,” I said, deadpan. “Gather everyone, we have to leave at once.”

Erato straightened, banging a fist to her armoured chest. “Yes, majesty. To the temple portal?”

“No — here. I’ve no way of knowing if the Dayspire’s arch remains intact, which leaves us one option.”

Aros winced minutely. “Shadowstepping.”

I nodded. “It’s much less violent than Hermes’ method of travel, I promise.”

“It better be,” he muttered as Erato sprinted into the main building.

A minute passed.

Then two.

“Quit that, you’re giving me hives,” Aros grumbled.

“What?” My gaze flicked to his absentmindedly — I was more inclined to glare at the gargantuan buildings with still no sign of emerging gods.

He grabbed my right hand roughly, tugging it down to reveal the patchwork of crisscrosses on my left arm. Some scratches were so deep, I’d drawn blood without realising.

“Oh.”

“Mmm. I take my oath very seriously, Nyssa. And I will protect you from all who seek to harm you — including yourself, if necessary.” His amber eyes pinned mine, succinctly getting his point across. “How is he? Can you tell?”

I shook my head stiffly. “The distance is too great to discern his emotions or communicate directly. I can tell he’s alive, nothing more.”

Two red brows shot upwards. His mouth popped open soundlessly a heartbeat before words formed on his tongue. “Temporarily ignoring the fact that you can communicate mentally, take solace in the fact that wherever he is and whatever he’s doing, Caelus lives.”

A small, grateful smile graced my lips. “You’re right. It would take a Furies-damned host of monsters to take Caelus down… and I’m not entirely sure he can fall unless I fall first.”

Rufus bounded up with a mournful howl until Aros scratched the space between his lion ears.

“No, buddy. Nyssa’s not going anywhere. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

He speared the last part at me.

Vel snarled, the sound curling deep at the back of her throat.

“Or her,” Aros ginned savagely.

Lykos appeared behind her, sneaking up with the dexterity of an apparition. He looked at my dragon and at me, then back again. Growling, his large, wet nose nudged the centre of my cuirass — right where Caelus’ emotions usually lingered.

“I know. I’m desperate to get to him, too,” I said, scratching at the base of his jaw. “But we can’t do it alone. Give us two minutes then we can go to him.”

Thankfully, the sounds of many quick feet echoed behind us half a minute later.