by Eliza Raine
11
Lyssa watched as Phyleus held his hands over the tiny fire, wincing and poking at his little finger. A weird white colour was creeping down from his fingernail.
‘Do you think it’ll fall off?’ said Epizon.
Phyleus looked at him in alarm. ‘I bloody hope not!’ he said, rubbing at it.
Lyssa rolled her eyes. ‘It’ll be fine, just get it warm. Besides, it’s only a finger.’
Phyleus raised his eyebrows at her.
‘Only a finger?’ he repeated slowly. ‘Only a finger? I need my fingers!’
‘Just be pleased we got across the lake at all,’ she snapped, looking sideways at Epizon. Her first mate nearly hadn’t, the ice tipping and rocking under his weight so much that at times she had been convinced she’d lose him to the freezing depths. Phyleus glared at her and she held his angry look. ‘How do you know what that bird was?’ she asked.
‘Saw one once.’ Lyssa cocked her head at him. ‘In a book,’ he said quickly. ‘I haven’t actually seen a real one before. I don’t think they’re much into eating or killing people, phoenixes.’ He flexed his little finger as he spoke. ‘Just messing with lakes, apparently. It was beautiful, though, wasn’t it?’
Lyssa frowned. ‘Beautiful? Did you feel the cold? Like you would never, ever be warm again?’
Phyleus looked at her and shook his head. ‘No, I was too far away.’
‘You wouldn’t be calling it beautiful if you had. It was horrible.’
They lapsed into silence, taking it in turns to warm their hands and dry their boots over the small fire. Lyssa looked at the claw-shaped mountain ahead of them, looming large but distant. It was not going to be fun trekking across the snow to reach it. But the purple light streaked about them, encouraging them to follow. Epizon pulled the pack back onto his shoulder and stood up, stamping on the fire.
‘Ready?’
‘Let’s go,’ she answered, not waiting for Phyleus to reply.
It was even harder than she had thought it would be. The closer to the mountain they got, the more the wind picked up, until a howling snowstorm was whirling around them. All they could see through the stinging flakes was the purple light, dancing back every time they lost sight of it. Lyssa pulled the hood of her cloak as low over her face as she could without completely restricting her vision. The snow was so deep around her boots now that each step was becoming harder, as she needed to lift her legs higher and higher. She looked sideways at Phyleus. To his credit, he was only just starting to fall behind her. She was acutely aware of her power, the strength humming through her body, willing her forward, and she wasn’t sure how she would have coped without it. Climbing down the sheer peak and then racing across the frozen lake would tire anybody out.
She slowed, stepping awkwardly sideways in the snow to fall in beside Phyleus. He looked across at her from inside his hood, surprised.
‘Didn’t think you liked talking to me,’ he said, loudly so she could hear him over the wind.
‘Just wanted to point out that you’re holding us up,’ she said. He gave her a sarcastic smile as he kicked through piled-high snow. ‘Lift your leg over it, instead of through it. You won’t get so cold,’ she said.
‘You been around snow before?’ he said, lifting his leg higher on his next step.
‘Yeah. Lots of snow on the mountain in Leo. I used to like walking, spending time as high up as I could get.’
‘Close to the skies,’ Phyleus said. She looked at him, surprised.
‘I guess so. Though I never thought about it like that at the time.’ She hadn’t. She’d just loved being higher than the rest of the world. She hadn’t known she wanted to fly on a ship until she’d run away from her father.
‘You know, we really should talk about the end of the race on Sagittarius,’ Phyleus said. She scowled.
‘Why?’
‘The sails. They were turning black. I think that’s important.’ He slowed, fully turning towards her as he spoke. ‘Lyssa, has that ever happened before?’
‘It’s Captain, not Lyssa!’ Anger laced her voice and she knew it was nothing to do with what he had called her. His face hardened.
‘Captain, we need to talk about your Rage,’ he said slowly.
‘You don’t know me, or my ship! Why the hell would I talk to you about my power?’ She stamped through the snow, not noticing herself speed up.
‘Because I was there, I saw the sails, I saw you. Do you know you were smiling? Smiling like a maniac as we hurtled towards those spikes. That’s not normal!’
‘Don’t you dare tell me what’s normal!’ She whirled on him, not caring as her hood flew back, the roar of the wind loud. ‘Do you think anything about my life is normal? Anything about my past, the Alastor, my future? You come from your rich family, loafing around Olympus doing whatever you please, whenever you please, and you think you can tell me how to live my life?’ She was shocked to find tears pricking the corners of her eyes. Her Rage simmered, but didn’t push her. This wasn’t anger, this was sorrow, she realised. Phyleus stared at her, mouth tightly shut. ‘You will never, ever understand me,’ she snarled and pulled her hood back up, storming towards the mountain, leaving Phyleus standing in the snow.
Whoever came across the Python would die, until Apollo, an expert archer, shot her with a perfect arrow. She fell to the floor, taking huge gasps of air and thrashing around. She writhed on the ground hissing, her life eventually leaving her.
EXCERPT FROM
Hymn to Apollo by Homer
Written 600–500 B.C.
Paraphrased by Eliza Raine
12
Hedone would be happy if she never saw snow again. The wind seemed to pick up handfuls of it, endlessly hurling it at their frozen bodies as they trudged closer to the ugly mountain. Whatever they found there couldn’t be worse than the threat of sinking to the bottom of an ice-cold lake, she thought. One of her few physical strengths was running, and she weighed so little it had been relatively easy to get across the melting lake quickly. But Bellerephon had slipped and the fear she had felt for him as Psyche raced to pull him out had been very real. She shuddered. As much as she wanted to help Hercules, she was starting to think that this was not the Trial to do so. She didn’t know anything about his progress and concentrating on keeping herself and Theseus alive seemed the best use of her time.
As they got close to the mountain the wind died down, as shelter was provided by the enormous rock structure. The bouncing red light led them closer and closer, until it loomed over them, the curved peak now completely blocking the snow. Psyche pushed back her hood and looked up, shaking snow from her cloak. Hedone followed suit.
The light suddenly zipped off, heading straight for the mountain. As it arrived there was a glow, slight at first, then stronger and stronger, spreading into a large rectangle. A door, Hedone realised. Relief that they would be inside, out of the relentless weather was quickly replaced by apprehension. Nothing had been easy so far, and it was unlikely to become so now.
When they got close the red light faded, revealing a dark tunnel in the rock face, sloping gently downwards. Hedone glanced at Psyche, who motioned for them to stop. Bellerephon pulled the pack from his shoulder and dug around in it, whilst Psyche took a knife from her own. When Bellepheron had armed himself with his slingshot they descended, hesitantly, into the mountain.
The cave they entered was stunning. High, vaulted ceilings had been carved from the stone, and ice pillars, made by stalagmites and stalactites meeting one another, joined the floor to the ceiling at random intervals. Dancing under the ice was a shimmering blue light, similar to the ice phoenix’s crest. It looked like liquid fire, warping and rippling behind the glassy surface.
It was mesmerising. Hedone stepped towards a pillar, her hand outstretched, but Psyche batted her arm down.
‘No. Don’t touch anything,’ she muttered. Hedone frowned but obeyed. They walked slowly through the cave, her eyes wide with wonder at the ethereal pat
terns the blue flames made under the ice. The cavern seemed to go on forever in every direction, but the light from each pillar only extended a few feet, making it hard to tell. Their red light bobbed along ahead of them, guiding them in the direction it wanted them to go, and they followed, silently.
Silently enough that she heard the hiss behind them. She froze at the same time as the others.
‘What was that?’ she whispered, afraid to turn around. Psyche and Bellerephon had already spun around to face the other way, slingshot and knife raised. Hedone watched as Bellerephon’s eyes widened, fear rolling though her.
‘Run!’ yelled Psyche and turned, sprinting after the red light. Hedone raced after her, focusing on her glinting golden armour exposed by her flapping cloak. Bellerephon raced past on her other side, legs pumping. There was an earthy slithering sound, like something massive being dragged along the ground.
‘What is it?’ panted Hedone, not slowing.
‘Python,’ gasped Psyche between breaths, as a golden snake as thick as a giant’s arm slithered across their path.
13
‘Captain, I don’t like the look of this.’
Lyssa looked around at the glittering cavern. Epizon was right. It was too pretty, too peaceful to be trusted.
‘These are incredible,’ said Phyleus, reaching out and touching the ice column where the blue flames danced and swirled inside. The second he touched it, the blue dimmed. Not just on the column he touched, but everywhere, the whole cave plunging into flickering semi-darkness.
‘Shit,’ he said, pulling his hand back.
‘Idiot,’ Lyssa hissed. A moving flash of gold caught her eye, standing out against the purple glow of the guiding light. ‘There’s something in here,’ she said, her muscles clenching as her power built in anticipation. There it was again, higher this time. She looked up at the column where she’d seen it, her breath catching. A golden snake was coiled around the pillar, the dim blue lights reflecting off its lithe body.
‘Doesn’t Apollo have something to do with pythons?’ whispered Epizon.
‘Looks like it, yeah,’ she muttered back. ‘What do we do?’ As if in answer the purple light tore off, zipping between the pillars away from them.
‘Follow it!’ she shouted, and ran.
She’d barely got ten feet before Phyleus screamed. She turned and snarled as she saw Phyleus, immobile as the gold body of the snake coiled slowly around his thighs. The snake was long, she realised. Part of it was still wrapped around the pillar, where she had first noticed it. Phyleus whimpered as the snake’s head rose around his front, a forked white tongue flicking out with a hiss.
‘Help me,’ he said through gritted teeth, his eyes finding hers. She leaped at the snake with a roar, clearing the distance instantly. Rage flooded through her muscles, her skin feeling aflame as she grabbed the snake behind its head and squeezed. It thrashed and she stamped as hard as she could on its glimmering body. She felt the muscle give beneath her foot and the head thrashed harder but she knew she was stronger. She closed her fist hard and yanked, smashing the snake’s head into the nearest ice pillar and pulling Phyleus, still wrapped in its coils, off his feet.
But even as she did so she regretted it. The pillar shattered completely as the snake went limp. Tiny blue flames rippled out into the cavern, bouncing and dancing as they dispersed and Lyssa raced to Phyleus, who was desperately trying to remove himself from the heavy coils. She pulled the lifeless body of the snake from him with ease as a deep rumbling began.
‘Thanks, but I’m pretty sure we weren’t supposed to destroy the cave,’ said Phyleus, scrambling to his feet. She didn’t answer but shoved him towards Epizon and the purple light. The rumbling was growing louder and the cave began to shudder under her feet as they ran, the purple light getting faster as the cavern got darker. She could hear rushing water. A sick, cold fear came over her. If this cavern filled with water… They would drown.
She powered after the light, not daring to look back for the source of the growing sound of rushing water. They weaved in and out of columns, the blue lights inside now muted and dull. Again Lyssa felt a grudging respect for Phyleus, racing along next to her, his stamina admirable for a mortal human. The purple light jumped abruptly and they all slowed, looking up as it reached the vaulted ceiling of the cave, then dived back down.
‘Woah!’ yelled Epizon, flinging his arms out and coming to a complete stop. Lyssa almost bowled into him, still watching the light fall and missing what was right in front of her. They were standing on a cliff’s edge, the source of the sound a roaring waterfall across a gaping chasm. The water poured into the cavern below, and Lyssa gaped as the purple light plunged past them.
‘I’m not going down there.’ Phyleus folded his arms against his heaving chest.
‘For once, I agree with you,’ she panted. There was no way she was jumping into that dark water, miles below them.
‘Maybe this is another invisible bridge thing,’ said Epizon hopefully, crouching and feeling the stone lip of the cliff.
‘Oh no. Oh no.’ Phyleus grabbed Lyssa by the arm. ‘Jump! We’ll have to jump!’ He turned her to face the cavern they’d come from. The waterfall wasn’t the source of the sound. A tidal wave of water was flooding towards them.
‘There are tunnels here!’ shouted Epizon.
Lyssa dropped to her knees at the same time as Phyleus, leaning out over the edge carefully to look where Epizon was pointing. There was a wide lip of rock jutting out a few feet down the cliff face with three dark tunnels disappearing into the rock itself. A glimmer of purple appeared in the mouth of the middle one.
‘The light! It’s what we’re supposed to do next,’ she said with relief, and launched herself feet first off the edge of the cliff towards the middle tunnel.
14
Evadne listened as Theseus told Abderos about yet another bloody ship. He couldn’t get enough. Endless questions about speed, ballistas, sails, even the galleys. Theseus didn’t seem to mind, though, chatting amiably, showing no signs of frustration, worry or fear. She swivelled on her backside, reaching out and touching the ice wall of the cage again. She winced as she did, the material so cold it burned. It was holding against the boar’s insistent battering, so far. She estimated that they had been trapped for over an hour, but she couldn’t be sure.
‘What happened to your legs?’ Theseus’s question, punctuated by the hammering of the boar against the ice, caught her attention. She turned to Abderos, as did Busiris, who had been sullen and silent since she’d snapped at him. Abderos shifted in his chair, looking down at his hands.
‘It was my own fault.’
Theseus said nothing and after a moment Abderos spoke again. ‘I grew up on a farm in Gemini,’ he said. ‘I wanted to fly. I’ve always wanted to fly, since as long as I can remember. But my parents wanted me to work on the farm. I would visit the docks whenever I could, at first only looking at the ships, but when I was older I started sneaking on board. The first time I actually flew, nobody knew I was on the ship. I hadn’t meant to be on board when they left, but gods, what a thrill.’ His eyes lit up at the memory. Evadne cocked her head. He reminded her of how she’d felt about books when she was young. Still felt about books.
‘Anyway, we didn’t return to Gemini for three days. My parents were out of their minds with worry, and I was starving when I got home. But after that I knew there was no way I was staying on the farm. It was a Crosswind, by the way. My first stowaway experience. I was eight.’ His smile faded. ‘My second stowaway experience… They caught me. And they took me to Aries.’ Evadne looked away, unwanted pity for him growing inside her. ‘As you can imagine, an eight-year-old kid didn’t do very well in the world of the warriors. The first slaver who bought me put me out as bait for the chimeras in a gladiator show.’ She shuddered. ‘I lost both legs in one bite from a lion head, and the flames from a dragon head cauterised the wounds. Luckily for me, the second I lost consciousness the beasts left me alone an
d moved onto still-moving prey. A slaver’s wife took pity on me when she realised I was alive after the show, patched up the stumps and my burns and taught me to cook. Lyssa found me five years later. She let me learn to fly the ship. Said I was a natural.’
‘How old are you?’ asked Theseus softly.
‘Sixteen,’ he said, the grin back on his face. ‘And I’m the best damn navigator in the Trials.’
Theseus barked a short laugh and clapped the arm of the wheelchair. ‘I don’t doubt it, young Abderos. I don’t doubt it.’
Abderos turned to the half-giant. ‘What about you, Busiris? How did you end up in the Trials?’
Busiris scowled at him. ‘None of your business,’ he snapped.
‘Hmmmmmm,’ said Theseus, giving him a long, appraising look. ‘Let’s play a game. I’ll guess and you tell me if I’m wrong or right.’
Busiris said nothing.
‘You speak well,’ continued Theseus, ‘and I’ve not seen you keen to fight so far, which is uncommon for a giant. That makes me think you’re noble-born.’ The half-giant’s face twitched. ‘And your gold skin. That’s native to Egypt, in Aries, isn’t it?’
Busiris sighed. ‘If you know who I am, little man, then just say it.’ The sullen pettiness had been replaced with an arrogant sneer. ‘Or no, I will. I am the king of Egypt.’ He squared his shoulders. ‘And I can fight just fine. I simply prefer to have others do it for me, while I attend to more important matters.’
‘Where’s Egypt?’ asked Evadne, interest piqued. ‘I’ve never heard of it.’
Busiris glared but Theseus said, ‘It’s in the middle of Aries. It’s desert land. Very hot.’
‘Is it near the gladiator pits?’ asked Abderos, a bit quietly.
