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For Ethan, who shares my fantastical heart and joined me on epic adventures
—SPLASH
For Anesa. May you grow to be as gracious as Galene, as brave as Iyana, as loyal as Braxtus, and as wise as Kostas.
—MAMA
1
GALENE
Galene trailed her fingers over the hilts of weapons lining the dark stone walls.
The worn, wrapped leathers and freshly sharpened blades spoke of battles, and heroes, and gods crowned with immortality. Stains darkening wooden shafts told stories of desperate, bloody fights—some of which she’d witnessed.
Today the fight for immortality was hers.
In the gleam of an ax-head, she caught sight of bright blue eyes watching her.
Galene turned to look at her best friend. Iyana wore a stunning set of soft blue robes, her long white-blonde hair—loose as always—adorned with a gilded silver comb. In contrast, Galene’s wavy brown hair was already slipping free of her braid, and she was dressed in light armor, her scimitar and throwing daggers on the belt at her hip.
Iyana’s face was drawn with tension. “Are your weapons sharpened?”
Galene gave a strained smile. Of course she’d sharpened her blades. “I’ll be fine.”
Her friend’s expression tightened. “You’re not immortal yet.”
Galene let out a breath, trying not to think of the last death at an Immortality Trial. What her brother had done in response to that death, and what her life had become afterward. But the Olympians hadn’t allowed anyone to die since. She’d survive. No, she’d win.
Failing wasn’t an option.
A horn blared, echoing through the tunnels beneath the stadium.
Iyana reached out and gave her fingers a squeeze. “Go prove yourself a goddess fit to be worshipped.”
Galene gave a single nod, then turned, crossed the preparation room, and stepped through the door into the dark passage.
Torches lit the limestone walls, a rich, earthy breeze guiding her toward open air. She passed a small group wearing tunics embroidered with Apollo’s laurel—healers waiting to see how the battle would end. Galene kept her eyes ahead, focusing on the beat of her sandals hitting the floor to lull her frantic mind.
The tunnel brightened as an archway of light came into view. A steady hum echoed down the tunnel, growing continuously louder.
Her heart banged against her rib cage. Every cruel word, every suspicious and disapproving glance she’d received over the last three years crashed through her mind. This was the day she’d overcome it all. She’d sketched plans for the temple that would be built for her, spent nights awake at the prospect of introducing herself to the humans. She’d dreamt of the day her father would look at her and see her, and not the shame of her brother.
I will walk off that battlefield a victor.
She crossed into the stadium.
The crowd erupted into a roar, and Galene blinked in the sunlight.
The massive amphitheater stretched one hundred and fifty feet wide and twice as long. A wall encircled the dirt grounds, and above it, packed stands rose into the sky, a mosaic of dully colored tunics with spots of shining armor. It roiled as the crowd rose and fell, waving arms and cheering. Every god on Mount Olympus must have been there, along with visiting gods and goddesses who’d turned up for the event.
The sound was deafening, exhilarating. Jeers mingled with the revelry, but Galene ignored those. She pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin, turning to find the small section of her fellow Unnamed—the young gods and goddesses who were still mortal. Iyana would take her seat there soon. She raised her hand toward them in acknowledgment.
In the front rows of the stands closest to her, on elevated seats, were the most powerful of all the gods: the Twelve Olympians. The rulers of both Mount Olympus and the humans below.
They watched her, glowing with power, the only silent spectators. Four decks of cards sat on a table before them, glowing like the Olympians themselves.
The Decks of Fates.
Despite the clear sky, a crack of thunder echoed throughout the stadium.
The crowd hushed instantly, and the King of Olympus, God of the Sky, stood. Above his trimmed, dark beard, Zeus’s storm-gray eyes scanned the crowd.
“Six months ago, the council of the Twelve Olympians enacted a new requirement: Poseidon’s children and my own are to take their Immortality Trials three years early, at the age of eighteen.” Zeus did not shout, but his words carried clearly to all listening. “With the powerful gifts bestowed upon our children, they are fit for this greater challenge.” He fixed his eyes on Galene. She inclined her head in deference. “Galene Unnamed is the first to face this new requirement. Today she will prove whether she is worthy to join the pantheon.”
The crowd cheered once more, and chills raced down Galene’s arms. She was ready—this was an opportunity. The Fates were giving her a chance to prove herself.
“Choose your terrain,” Zeus commanded.
Galene held his gaze. “Water.”
Zeus nodded, unsurprised, then turned to Poseidon. “If you will.”
Galene’s father stood. The Earth-shaker, God of the Seas, was tall like his brother, but not as broad. His long hair and beard were dark gray and unkempt, and a wild spark kindled in the sea-green eyes Galene had inherited. He looked at her only for a moment, offering barely a nod before turning away. She steeled herself.
Poseidon raised his arms, and the ground shook.
Widening her stance, Galene looked down. The dirt fractured, creating a circle around her a few paces in diameter. Cracks shot outward, webbing across the arena floor to break up the smooth, packed dirt. Clumps and boulders of loose earth trembled beneath Poseidon’s power, then tumbled downward into the gaping fissures.
Piece by piece the arena floor fell away, crumbling until Galene stood on a pinnacle, staring into an abyssal pit. Her stomach lurched at her sudden height, but Poseidon was not done. Through the rubble far below, water rose. It sloshed over the rocks and boulders, climbing rapidly until it surrounded Galene, leaving only a short drop between her and its settling surface.
She looked back to the Olympians. Her father’s face was grim as he retook his seat.
“Now let the Fates choose your opponent.” Zeus flicked his hand, and one of the Decks of Fates scattered forward, as though blown by the wind. Tumbling through the air, the golden cards spun toward Galene, slowing as they approached. Most of the deck came to a stop, hanging in the air like leaves on an invisible tree. Five cards, however, came closer, aligning themselves at Galene’s eye level.
“Choose three,” Zeus reminded her.
Galene reached up and hesitated. Don’t overthink it. She touched two on the left and one beside the far right. They glowed brighter, hanging there until all the other cards drew back, returning to
a neat pile on the table.
The gold coating on the first card dissolved to reveal an image and printed words.
It depicted a whale-like sea creature with a gaping mouth lined with rows of long teeth.
Body of Cetus, the card read.
Galene swallowed. She had expected one of the cards to be monstrous—at least now she’d gotten the worst out of the way.
She turned to the second. Its golden coat, too, disappeared.
A giant gryphon was emblazoned on it, the fur and feathers shining with gold.
Hide of the Gryphiekin.
She blinked in shock. The King of the Gryphons’ eagle-and-lion hide was like armor, nearly impenetrable. This card was as bad as the first—drawing blood would be formidable, let alone killing whatever hybrid creature these cards would create.
Turning to the third and final card, Galene sent a silent prayer to the Fates. Please be something to balance these out—sight of a cyclops or something.
The gold disappeared, and she felt the ichor drain from her cheeks.
Heads of Scylla.
No.
Galene looked between them again. She had to have misread them—there had to be a mistake. But no: Body of Cetus, Hide of the Gryphiekin, Heads of Scylla. Each individual card could change any two basic creature qualities into a deadly beast, but all three together …
She clenched her fists, digging her nails into her palms. This six-headed monster would be huge, smart, and nearly impossible to wound. I don’t know if I can do this. Her legs trembled, and she hoped the Olympians couldn’t tell.
The cards flew back, presenting themselves to the Twelve. Behind them, gods and goddesses leaned forward to get a look at the cards. Shocked murmurs rose, rippling around Galene as the word of her opponent was passed around the stadium.
Excitement began to vibrate through the crowd, people realizing that if nothing else, they were about to get a show. There had never been three creatures of this caliber combined for an Immortality Trial.
She looked to her father. His mouth was a thin, pressed line. The other Olympians didn’t look at all fazed—some merely sat forward to watch her more closely, disdain in their eyes.
The sight lit something inside her. She choked down her fear, forcing herself to stand straighter. Losing isn’t an option.
The three cards, settling now on the table, began to glow.
The Fates had given her these cards. They must believe she can do this.
I’m strong, powerful, and a good daughter. When I beat this thing, there will be no doubt of my honor, despite Chrysander’s actions.
I am worthy of being a deity.
Renewed determination surged through her, and she looked out across her element.
Under the water before her, a speck of light appeared. Glimmering like a star, it flickered once, then began to grow. As it spread out, shifting and shaping, the light faded to something dark and solid. Several feet below, the sea creature came to life.
Gasps and exclamations rang around her. Spectators rose from their seats, pointing and moving for a better look.
The giant shape dwarfed her. Half of it was large and thick, four powerful fins stroking, propelling it through the water as a fanned tail steered with surprising agility. The other half split into six thick necks, snaking below the surface in search of prey. The necks alone were thrice Galene’s height.
The beast circled her island, swimming out of the shadow of the arena wall. Sunlight struck it, and hundreds of shimmering rays bounced from its golden hide, shooting through the water.
Anticipation was thick in the air, the hundreds of eager eyes distracting, but she did her best to ignore them. She rarely practiced with spectators and doubted many of the gods here today had seen her gift in use. She was about to show them exactly what she was capable of.
Raising her hands, Galene called on her first gift—manipulation of tides. She reached out with her mind until she had an intangible, mental grip on the water around her. Sensing its slight, natural flow, she pushed the water to the far end of the arena, bracing it there, adding more. Pressure built against her, a captured wave waiting for release. Fighting the pull of gravity was never an easy task; it took all of her focus to hold it. As the water level sank on her side of the arena, so did the creature. The monster circled once more, crossing between Galene’s rock and the growing wall of water.
She unleashed the wave.
As it fell, she pulled, forcing the water forward with extra speed. The swell crashed into the beast, and it slammed into the rock. Her bones rattled as the ground beneath her shook, and the tidal wave battered her with water, sloshing past to break against the opposite arena walls. Outcries sounded as the crowd, too, was doused.
Using the water’s returning momentum, Galene threw it back to the far end of the arena, but knew she didn’t have the same amount of time. Only giving it a moment to build, she hauled it back. Again, the monster struck the rock. A chorus of bellows resounded beneath the waves.
Gambling that she had one more use of the trick, Galene pushed the water again, but as she forced it to build up against the wall, the monster’s cry became deafening.
Six heads had burst from the water. The crowd screamed.
Galene staggered back, squinting against the dappled hues of gold and bronze that caught the sun. Droplets beaded and dripped off the interlocking feathers that created a scaly armor. The heads of Scylla reared over her, snarling with razor teeth and tongues that flicked like whips. On each head, two sets of cunning, blood-red eyes locked on her.
Terror threatened to overwhelm Galene. She could almost see each mind working, reeling with whatever instincts had been set within it, savoring the delicious moment of tension before its attack.
Galene took a slow step back, feeling the edge of the rock with her heel.
The three center heads seemed to grin.
It thinks I’m trapped. A spark of confidence ignited in her. But I have a second gift.
As the three heads struck down, she turned and dove off the rock. She fell, exhaling every bit of air from her chest. She hit the water and sucked in a breath. The cool, salty liquid filled her lungs, her body adapting seamlessly.
Galene looked to the surface to see the beast refocus on the rock, heads twisting as they searched for her.
Perseus had used Medusa’s head to kill Cetus—not a possibility here. No one had ever done anything more than escape Scylla, and the Gryphiekin had bested all challengers. She ground her teeth. Her blades would be of little use against the Gryphiekin hide. She’d need something much stronger to injure this beast. She looked up through the water at the gleam of Scylla’s ferociously sharp teeth—teeth that could penetrate any armor.
An idea formed in her mind.
She dove for the beast’s belly, pulling a tide forward to propel her. With a powerful wave of its front fins, the monster drew back, its heads falling into the water.
Galene willed the water to push her faster before the heads could find her. The waters darkened as she moved beneath its belly, but she could still make out the lighter gold underside, where the feathers morphed into a thick, bristly lion’s coat. She shot along, moving to the tail fin.
Heart quickening, Galene kicked up. She dug her fingers into the fur, clamping her legs around the swishing fin. She let go with one hand, drew her longest dagger, and slammed it down to claim its attention.
The blade ricocheted off the impenetrable hide, sending a shock wave up her arm. All six heads snapped around, four crimson eyes on each finding her. With a cacophony of roars, they struck.
Galene released the beast and propelled herself between the necks, barely missing razor teeth as the first head snapped down where she had been, scoring itself. Too quickly a second head was there, jaws ready. Crying out, she pushed herself back with a swell of water, almost straight into the mouth of another.
Galene tumbled away, pulling the tides to rush out of reach. Too close.
Would any
one even notice if it killed her? Could they even see her down there?
The heads were still leering over its back, and Galene flicked her eyes to the tail of the beast. A thin line of blood oozed into the water.
She dove again, back to the same spot, seizing the hair with her free hand, brandishing her dagger with the other.
Four of the heads turned around and snaked forward, launching the creature back into motion. Galene almost flew off the tail as it swiveled, beating the water, and she redoubled her grip. The other heads snapped at her from each side. She prepared to leap from its back again, then paused, noticing their lack of effort.
It figured out my plan.
They tore through the water, up toward the surface. Two heads continued to snap at her as Galene’s mind worked, thinking of any possible strategy to overpower or outsmart this thing.
The creature breached, launching into the air.
The sudden jerk dislodged Galene, her dagger slipping through her fingers as the creature arched back toward the water.
Galene tumbled downward. The shouts from the crowd, almost as loud as the crashing water, rattled through her. She choked back her shriek. Olympus couldn’t see her fear.
The creature hit the water first, creating a maelstrom of frothing waters. Galene curled up and braced for impact.
The water stung as she hit and sank, bubbles and foam obscuring her vision. Throwing out her arms, she frantically pushed the churning water away, bringing clear water to replace it.
Six heads shot toward her, mouths open.
She screamed, heaving on the water, but a jaw snapped onto her side. The teeth pierced her breastplate, driving into her flesh.
Vicious pain tore through her, and she grabbed the length of a tooth still exposed above her armor. The creature reared back, whipping its neck up through the surface.
Terror pounded in her veins as she was flung through the air in the beast’s jaw, a blur of colors racing by. Distantly, she heard the stadium screaming.
Crack! She slammed down onto rock, stars erupting into her vision. Her body vibrated with the force of the creature’s bellow, and the teeth began to retract from her side. The crippling pain resurged as she was pulled with the retreating head, sliding along rock. There was a loud snap, and a tooth broke off, still lodged inside her.
The Immortal Game Page 1
