Bonds of Hercules - 41

A LEXIS : SGC D AY 13

F ists banged on the door as Olympian guards shouted something.

My eyes shot open.

Phantom aches coursed along my limbs.

Torchlight burned low, shadows dancing across the blood-streaked empty bed. “Augustus … Kharon?” I called out, searching the darkness.

No one answered.

Fluffy Jr. whined as he stumbled to his feet. He was alone on the floor. Poco and the hellhounds were also missing.

They wouldn’t abandon me … not now. Not right before my labors. Not on the most important day of my life.

“Let’s go!” a guard yelled outside.

Something is very wrong.

Heart racing, I stumbled on strangely sore legs into the bathroom and threw icy water onto my face. Monochrome eyes stared back at me, full of panic.

“HURRY UP!”

I hastily braided my hair down my back. Curls escaped around my face, and I patted them down with desperation.

A guard screamed, “One minute—and we’re coming in!”

I shoved my feet into my boots, fingers slipping as I tied the laces.

The door creaked as it started to open.

I stood up, ready to go—

My eyes widened and I turned frantically. I grabbed my lucky calculator off the bed and tucked it into my toga pocket as I yelled, “Nyx!”

A sleepy hiss sounded from the pillows. Diving across the bed, I slapped until I felt warm scales.

“ No —sleeeep,” Nyx complained, as I yanked her up and wound her around my neck, heart in my throat at the realization that I’d almost forgotten her.

BANG.

The door slammed open and light streamed in.

A dozen guards waited. Titus and Alessander stood toward the back of the group. They made eye contact and opened their mouths like they were going to say something—whatever they saw on my face made them stop.

“MOVE.” An older guard stepped in and pointed a sparking baton out into the hall.

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Fluffy Jr. barked as he ran out of the room.

“No, stay back. It’s not—” My jaw dropped. “ Jesus Christ. ”

The guards staggered out of his way.

Fluffy Jr. had seemingly undergone another growth spurt. His head was now at my chest, his body monstrously proportioned.

His back was still grossly distended, and he was in no shape to fight.

“Move!” A guard shoved me and Fluffy Jr. growled.

Boots pounded against stone, the guards stomping in synchrony in front and behind as they led us through the labyrinth.

Nyx slithered slowly around my shoulders.

We turned right down an unfamiliar cavern—it opened into a room with copper torches hanging from walls that were covered in silver.

“CHOOSE ONE.” A guard pointed.

Weapons covered every inch of the walls: swords, axes, knives, whips, throwing stars.

We’d just started training with manual armaments—I wasn’t particularly good at any of them.

You can do this, Alexis.

Shouts echoed all around; guards were surrounding me bellowing things; sparking batons pointed; my teeth ached from the proximity to voltage; Fluffy Jr. whined, his wet nose nuzzling at my face.

I hadn’t even realized that I’d fallen to my knees.

Stop it. Get control of yourself.

Hyperventilating, I got to my feet. I gathered my courage, even though it felt like fear.

“What’s the easiest weapon to use?” I asked Nyx under my breath.

“A spear,” she hissed.

I yanked a long titanium pole with an arrow-like end off the wall.

Before I could even process my choice, I was shoved out of the narrow room and down a different labyrinth of paths.

The metal was cool in my hands, barely weighing anything.

The guards marched to a stop in front of me. They parted in unison, revealing a wide gate. Titus stepped forward and turned a lever. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything.”

“Shut up.” I tried to ignore him. The gate slowly lifted.

Terror cracked my ribs, one by one, until my chest was concave.

Fuck me.

It was the worst-case scenario—the day was dark and stormy. Wind whipped and clouds churned across the sky.

Discussion buzzed around the packed stadium.

“GO!” A guard shoved me forward.

I staggered out, Nyx tensed around my shoulders, and Fluffy Jr. raised his head high.

Whispers traveled through the stadium.

“HERCULES—TWELVE LABORS!” Zeus stared down at me from the end of the podium, long white toga whipping. He held his unholy scepter, the golden eagle sparking atop it.

You’re in grave danger.

Zeus’s lion roared beside him; cheers thundered.

In a trance, I walked until I stood in the center of the arena.

The stadium was staticky and warped on the other side of the force field—neon-green lines shimmered—my skin prickled.

The whispers morphed into a chant that spread until all of Sparta was shouting, “ Angelus Romae … Angelus Romae … Angelus Romae! ”

I hurtled into the past, the coliseum disappearing.

Augustus carried me against his chest as he walked through a Roman street. Rain splattered across my face and humans chanted, “Angelus Romae,” as they reached out and touched my head. Kharon snarled at them, his head bleeding, as he hung on to Augustus. Bound Titans screamed behind us.

Augustus stared down at me—midnight eyes intense as he cradled me.

I blinked.

The present came back into focus.

I was standing in the middle of the Dolomites Coliseum with a spear clutched in my fist. The gate was rising again, and Sparta was screaming for blood.

Out of the dark, multiple shadows moved.

One, two, three, four, five …

“Oh, come on.”

Eight oversized Nemean lions prowled out onto the hot sands—an entire pride.

The first round was only supposed to be four .

The Chthonic section erupted with outrage, but their shouts were drowned out by the growing stomps and chants. “ANGELUS ROMAE!”

Zeus stood at the edge of the podium, watching calmly.

I made the sign of the cross.

A hair-raising growl echoed and my gaze snapped back to the sand.

The Nemean lions were creeping closer, fanning out on both sides in a big circle as they got ready to attack me from all sides.

I gripped my spear with both hands and pointed it forward.

So this is how it ends.

Nyx slithered around my shoulders. “You stab them,” she hissed. “I’ll bite.”

Fluffy Jr. growled back at the beasts, the sound as deep and terrifying as theirs. He stood about a head taller than them.

A Nemean lion tipped back its maw and roared.

Two charged forward; one at my back, and one at my front.

Fluffy Jr. sprinted to meet the one at my back.

Squatting, I raised my weapon.

I fought the urge to run for my life as a lion headed straight toward me—it leapt, flying through the air.

“NOW,” Nyx screamed.

Crouching low, I raised the point of my long spear straight up into the air, arms shaking as I held it steady against the resistance.

Blood and guts rained down.

The lion’s momentum carried it over my head and the spear split it from neck to navel.

It slumped onto the sand, twitching, gore everywhere. Nyx leapt off my neck—and the lion fell still. It was dead. “ Sorry ,” I whispered down as I clutched my spear until my fingers cramped.

The crowd went wild.

I hope it doesn’t have a family who are going to be sad—

YOWL.

I turned—Fluffy Jr. had ripped out the throat of the lion and was standing over its dead carcass, his maw dripping blood. He pranced with glee atop it, pulverizing it to pieces. The hump on his back was also glowing. Is it … moving?

Another roar echoed.

Scales slithered around my ankle as Nyx returned to my side.

“Two down, six to go,” she hissed. “Easy.”

As if they heard her, three lions charged forward together. “I call the left one!” Nyx shouted, sounding excited. I turned to the middle one and Fluffy Jr. sprinted at the one to my right.

This time, the lion didn’t leap.

It came to a stop in front of my spear and roared.

Internally, I was screaming in horror. Externally, I lunged forward at the beast. The lion stumbled back, fangs flashing.

In my peripheral vision, a lion dropped dead, convulsing. Nyx. There was a murmur of confusion from the crowd.

Roars and grunts sounded from across the sand as Fluffy Jr. fought.

Movement flashed and I scurried backward, waving my spear. A buzzing sensation scoured my hands. It was hard to grip my spear.

Oh god. The four remaining lions stalked forward, sensing the weakest prey— me . Golden coats gleaming, their maws were open and ready.

Backing away, I kept waving the spear back and forth.

They followed, playing with their kill, waiting for an opening.

This was how I died.

“Your power!” Hades shouted from somewhere nearby, the rest of his message drowned out by the shrieking crowd.

Right.

The power I don’t know how to use!

Fuck me.

My palms burned.

The lions were approaching.

A split second of lost focus, and I’d be mauled to death. If I got close enough to bleed on them, I’d already be dead.

Movement flashed in my blind spot.

In slow motion, I turned my head to the side.

A lion was leaping straight toward me, paws and claws distended, jaw open wide—I hadn’t seen it coming, there was no time to stab.

I grabbed my spear with two hands and held the bar up defensively, eyes closing.

Hundreds of pounds of beast slammed into my body—something slammed against my skull—I saw stars—teeth snapped at my neck—I held the bar up to its open jaw—teeth clacked around titanium—I barely held it back—drool dripped onto me—claws streaked across my side—I screamed—its breath was hot—teeth snapped closer, my arms giving out.

Weight slammed down and I was crushed into the sand.

Breath knocked from my limbs.

Everything hurt.

I throbbed, an aching carcass of agony.

I’ll just rest here.

“I killed it,” Nyx hissed from somewhere nearby. “ Move! ”

I shoved against the crushing weight, but it didn’t budge. Panic set in. Tears of desperation blurred my vision as I wiggled and pushed. The beast didn’t budge an inch.

I sobbed.

Pinned to the sand by a—

The weight lifted off and I gasped, sprawled limply. Everything was blurry, my vision a tiny slit.

I squinted as Fluffy Jr. dropped … a lion’s leg?

He’d saved me.

It’s a miracle.

Nyx hissed from nearby and Fluffy Jr. growled.

Three Nemean lions were still circling us.

Not a miracle yet.

Everything slowed as I lay spread-eagle in the sand—half comatose—my body weak from being crushed. A euphoric sensation washed through me. I was spinning with the earth.

I felt nothing.

“ Alexis … I’m … injured ,” Nyx hissed weakly from somewhere nearby.

Motion restarted, my hands were buzzing like they were on fire, the burning unimaginable.

Pain throbbed in my side. The stadium was chanting “ Hercules! ”

Nyx and Fluffy Jr. were in danger.

Get up.

They needed me.

Get up now.

Barely able to see, I rolled to my side, desperately searching the sand with my hands.

Something splashed as my fingers dipped into thick, viscous wetness. A metal pole was buried in it.

I squinted down.

I was lying in a puddle of my blood—my palms were coated in it—the tingling intensified.

A lion’s growl echoed through the air and my hair stood on end.

Help them.

Fingers slipping, I gripped my spear and staggered to my feet; agony made me weak; bile dripped from my lips as I tried to breathe but heaved.

There was no time left.

Fluffy Jr. was nothing but a flash as he leapt, yowls and screeches erupting as he rolled through the sand. Jaws snapping as he fought a lion.

But I couldn’t look over because two lions were crouched low approaching me. They were heading for the kill.

The sky darkened as storm clouds multiplied.

My fingers sizzled. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they were on fire.

They weren’t.

It was just in my head.

It was always just in my brain. I was so tired of the endless mental struggles and thoughts of death.

I was tired of being weak.

Tired of failing.

Tired of being defenseless.

Tired of being attacked.

Tired of fighting.

I widened my legs and pulled my arm back—a lion leapt with a gruesome roar—I threw my spear at it, and it let out a strangled yelp as it crashed down to the earth, skidding past me.

There was no time to dive and grab my weapon—the other lion was already jumping, headed straight for my throat.

God save my soul.

I bowed my head.

The lion slammed against me—stars exploded—pain was everywhere. Yet again, I plunged face-first into darkness. Back to where I belonged.

A gagging, choking noise echoed far away and everything went still.

Time warped strangely.

There was a bright light.

I tried to blink, but my right eye only opened the smallest crack.

I was lying on my side, staring into golden fur, gagging on sand.

Coughing, I spit out the dirty granules as I rolled onto my back.

The lion lay still beside me. It wasn’t breathing, which meant it was … dead, and I was somehow still alive.

Someone had killed the lion—they’d saved me—they’d slain the beast.

A pleasant tingling sensation tickled my palms, streaming down my hands to my fingers.

The light brightened.

My left hand searched my pocket, and I gasped with relief as my metal calculator seemed to be in one piece. Kharon hadn’t been joking about it being bulletproof.

Chuckling, feeling half dead, half alive, I tipped my chin back and looked around for my savior. Augustus, Kharon, Hades, Persephone?

The lightness slowly dissipated.

No one else was present.

I frowned.

I was all alone, spread-eagle in the middle of the arena, lying on blood-drenched sand as clouds scudded across the leaden sky.

There were entrails all around—I was surrounded by dead lions.

Fear sank teeth deep into my throat.

Thoughts broken—nothing made sense—I looked down, searching for an answer.

For a reason.

Who saved me?

I tipped my head to the side, sticky curls falling away as I glanced down.

The bronze skin of my arm was unblemished, and it was all the same, my bicep, elbow, forearm, hand, and fingers—I gasped as I turned my right hand over.

Oh, my fucking god.

I sat up and scrambled back, kicking desperately at the sand, but the mirage didn’t disappear. The heavy weight in my hand prevailed.

It’s not a miracle at all.

Father John would not like this.

No one had appeared; no one had saved me; no one else had slaughtered the beast.

A throbbing sensation pulsed through my swollen eye as I tried to open it wide and see better. I licked my cracked lips and once again turned my hand over.

I was holding an object.

A thick scarlet rod, with a wickedly sharp point and a ball at its wide end.

What the heck?

It didn’t look like any weapon I’d ever seen.

It was also made entirely of crimson. I was holding a rod-like object made entirely of scarlet— my blood .

Bits of lion fur were stuck to the end, and I slowly looked across the sand. The lion that attacked me had its stomach ripped open. There was foam on its lips.

It was my blood.

My poison .

Overwhelmed, I opened my tingling fingers.

Midair, the rod melted—a pool of smoking blood spread across the sand where I’d dropped it.

In slow motion, with prickling fingers, I knelt to the pile of sizzling blood.

My face reflected in it, one eye swollen and black, barely parted, the other an unseeing white.

I didn’t recognize myself.

The tingling intensified as my fingers grazed the viscous liquid—blood hardened and reshaped—I grasped the rod.

Once again, one end was sharp, and the other was round. It was heavy and thick in my hand, like a staff that was meant to be held high, not a weapon to be wielded.

What … is this?

A pained whine echoed, and Fluffy Jr. stumbled to his feet, staggering toward me—the white fur of his face was stained red. Deep claw marks riddled his body.

I reached for him with my left hand.

There was an explosion of sound, sand vibrated beneath my boots, my left ear rang with awful feedback, and I tripped, disoriented as I looked around for the source.

It took a second to realize that it was coming from the stands.

Sparta was on their feet, cheering.

Their bodies warped beyond the humming electric force field.

“Hercules … Hercules … Hercules … Hercules!”

Zeus was staring down from his podium, sparks leaping around his scepter. His lion was lying on its belly, its head averted from the arena.

Fluffy Jr. collapsed at my feet and my panic increased as I realized why I felt so alone.

“NYX?” I shouted, unable to hear myself over the roaring stadium.

Sand moved near my feet and there was a faint hissing sound.

Cool, bloody scales slithered slowly around my leg.

I bent down. “Are you okay?” I screamed, barely able to hear my own voice.

“Little … injured,” Nyx hissed weakly. “Sleep … need … heal.” I caught every couple of her words.

Warmth dripped down my leg where she held on for dear life.

I brought my shaking fingers to her scales.

She was bleeding.

Profusely.

I stood up straight, struggling to see through my swollen eyes, barely able to hear because of the ringing in my ears.

Icy terror morphed into something fiery and dangerous.

All of this was Zeus’s fault.

Every.

Single.

Part.

I’d never hated, not like this, but now it was boiling me alive.

Eleven-year-old Alexis stood tall in a decrepit trailer and faced down two murderous adults.

I pointed the ball end of the rod up at Zeus.

Twenty-year-old Alexis faced down the murderous leader of Sparta. Humans worshipped him as a god—he was still just a man.

Zeus arched a golden eyebrow as he mimicked my motion, pointing his scepter down at me.

Do it.

Smite me.

Hades bellowed something—his fog filled the stadium—Sparta hovered on the precipice of war.

Mutually assured destruction.

Persephone screamed.

The crowd was wailing, fog multiplying.

Lightning flashed off in the distance.

“ I know what you did! ” I shrieked at the top of my lungs. If I was going to die down here, then he was going to know, and I’d take Sparta down with me.

The human world was already in shambles. Spartans didn’t deserve to emerge unscathed.

Zeus’s expression was unimpressed.

I kept the rod pointed at him.

Hades thundered something and Zeus turned—he recoiled as he looked around the fog-covered stadium.

Zeus lowered his scepter, pointing it away from me.

Slowly, Hades’s inky power also dissipated.

Creatures and Spartans cowered in their seats—war was narrowly avoided.

Zeus turned back to the arena. “SECOND ROUND!”

The gate slowly lifted.

A familiar ungodly screech echoed through the arena.

Murmurs and gasps of shock chorused.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Ares’s voice boomed.

“They are under INVESTIGATION!” Hades shouted. “WHAT IS THIS?”

Zeus’s voice echoed around the stadium. “The federation has ruled this appropriate to test her might—she’s defeated them before, she can do it again.”

“YOU WANT WAR!” Hades responded.

“NO,” Zeus bellowed. “I WANT WHAT IS BEST FOR SPARTA … This is on her honor—she must prove her might.” He waved his scepter. “Don’t … make me use this.”

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. Lord Acton must have been a Spartan with the power of fate foreseeing this very moment.

Turning toward the Chthonic section, I shook my head no, hoping Hades understood the message.

This was my task, my revenge.

Fluffy Jr. whined at my feet, and Nyx was still unmoving, wrapped around my leg.

Agony throbbed. My field of vision was rapidly diminishing.

The gate lifted fully.

Acceptance washed over me—I’d found my limit—there were no emotions left to feel.

Screeeeeech.