by Eliza Raine
‘Are those flowers?’ Phyleus asked.
She flicked her eyes down. ‘It’s a meadow.’
Long, low hills were appearing on either side of them, a bright inviting green. The boggy ground had given way to luscious grass, peppered with white flowers. As they sped along trees sprouted from the ground, thick with foliage. Red and yellow flowers sprang up to join the white ones.
‘It’s pretty,’ Phyleus said.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Then something ugly is about to happen.’
Her attention was caught by a large plant growing from the ground far ahead. It wound its way up and up, taller than any of the others. In fact, it wasn’t stopping. It would be as high as they were by the time they passed it.
‘Lyssa!’ Phyleus shouted. A huge green shoot flicked in front of the boat. She swerved sharply, heading straight at another one. ‘They’re growing so fast! They’re everywhere!’ She narrowed her eyes, adrenaline pumping through her body as she banked again, avoiding another winding vine. She wouldn’t be able to get higher than these. ‘Hercules is cutting them down,’ Phyleus shouted. Her eyes flicked to the flashing red on her right. He was whirling his sword again, slicing through the emerald vines as they flew between them, and Evadne’s young face was screwed up in concentration. She didn’t normally navigate, Lyssa realised.
She’d taken her eye off the vines too long. There was a thud as they bumped along the side of one and she stumbled sideways, her hand coming off the mast. The boat slowed immediately, the red draining from the sail. A loud crunch came from the back of the boat. A vine had curled around the peaked end of the boat and they lurched to a stop. She cursed and launched herself towards the vine.
‘Shoot Evadne!’ she yelled at Phyleus as she grabbed hold of the vine and tried to force it off the wood. It was as thick as an arm and strangely warm. It was also completely unyielding.
‘They’re out of range,’ Phyleus called.
‘Then help me.’ He was at her side in a second, scrabbling around in the bottom of the boat. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.
‘When I was looking for my trousers earlier I swear I saw… Yes!’ He pulled a rusty knife up triumphantly and began hacking at the vine. Lyssa looked back towards the stag. It was only a small glow in the distance, barely visible through a maze of tall, undulating vines.
‘Shit,’ she muttered. A second vine appeared over the prow of the boat. ‘Shit!’ she repeated loudly. It was time for brute strength. She ran back to the middle of the boat, laid her hands on the mast and concentrated. She fixed Hercules in her sight, speeding ahead of her, and the sail snapped taught. The boat lurched beneath her as she willed it forward, pulling against the vines.
‘Got it!’ shouted Phyleus and she felt the release. The longboat rocketed forward, but spun, anchored to the vine around the front of the boat. ‘I’m on it,’ yelled Phyleus, scrambling past her.
Lyssa took a breath and opened her mind, letting ugly memories spill into her. There was a creak, then a tearing noise as they ripped free of the vine. Phyleus went flying backwards past her as they pivoted, and then they were shooting towards the golden stag, their sail shining red.
20
‘Do either of you have knives?’ Theseus spoke calmly but his eyes darted between his crew members and the vines curling around their suspended longboat.
Hedone shook her head.
‘No, Captain,’ said Psyche. ‘I didn’t think we’d be in close combat at any time…’
‘Start pulling, then,’ he said and grabbed at the plant closest to him. Hedone turned, trying to do the same. The creepers were thick and they were coiling themselves around everything they could reach. All around the boat more grew, blocking the light, causing a claustrophobic gloom to engulf them. She pulled uselessly at the warm vines as they stretched over more of the wood.
‘Captain, what about your arrows?’ Psyche said. He looked at her.
‘The boat’s made of wood. If we burn the vines we risk burning the boat.’
‘I’d say the risk is worth taking,’ she answered, scratching futilely at the plants.
‘Hedone.’ Theseus looked at her. ‘If the boat burns, there’s a chance we may need to jump. Can you do that?’
‘Jump where?’ She looked over the edge of the boat. The ground was thirty feet down.
‘Onto a vine. Then climb down.’ His deep, warm eyes burned into hers, his concern for her clear. Her stomach flipped, then annoyance pricked at her. She wasn’t a child. What would Hercules think of her having to be coddled by his rivals? She pushed out her chin.
‘Of course I can,’ she said.
Theseus pulled his bow from his back and notched an arrow. He leaned out slightly and murmured, ‘Pira.’ The arrow tip burst into flame. He aimed for a half a second then loosed the arrow, straight at the base of the vines.
All three of them leaned over the edge of the boat, watching expectantly. For a moment nothing happened, then Hedone saw an orange flicker. The flicker grew slowly, flames forming around the bottom of the plant as she watched. Theseus notched another arrow, aimed at the next vine, and fired. Hedone realised with a start that the creeping ends of the plant weren’t spreading any further.
‘Look!’ she exclaimed.
Psyche pulled at the vine she was pointing to and it came away from the wood in her hands. Her face lighting up, Psyche pulled harder, ripping the whole shoot away from the boat and throwing it back over the edge. Hedone hurried to do the same, working her way along the edge of the boat. The plants were getting warmer, she noticed. Almost hot. She yelled as flames licked up the creeper she had just pulled from the wood, throwing it away from her just in time to save her hands.
‘Theseus!’ yelled Psyche. Hedone spun around, panic engulfing her. The flames had climbed the plants faster than they could rip them from the boat. Theseus was kicking at the flaming vines but the fire had already taken to the wood, crackling, growing.
Hedone needed to be fierce. Fierce like Hercules. His strong, powerful body, moving in time with hers, making her strong. She clung to the thought, baring her teeth as she tore at more creepers, trying to rip them from the boat before the flames took them. The more she ripped at the plants, the stronger she felt, her fear melting away. Hercules’s face swam before hers, filling her with power. Then the image shimmered and world went black as she heard Theseus’s voice.
‘We give up!’
21
Evadne hated flying. Hercules had never allowed her to navigate on the Hybris, so she didn’t have much practice, and she was the sort of person who thought things through rather than reacting fast or relying on her reflexes. She dared not try to do anything smart like zipping between the swaying plants; she just plowed forward as fast as she dared and trusted her captain to cleave his way through anything they might hit. So far Hercules had easily hacked his way through the meadow of giant vines with Keravnos.
They might very well win this one, she thought, clutching the mast with both hands and keeping her squinting eyes on the golden stag ahead. The swathe of green in front of her seemed to be lessening. The stag veered suddenly, and she panicked, swinging the longboat after it. Hercules stumbled at the front of the boat and threw her a furious look.
‘Evadne!’ he roared, but she returned her attention to the stag. It was still heading left in a wide curve. She willed the boat to follow, noticing with relief that the vines were definitely becoming sparser. She could see Hercules moving towards her in her peripheral vision.
‘I’ll take over,’ he barked. She readily relinquished control of the boat and it juddered through the air for a split second. ‘Idiot,’ he spat, before the smooth movement resumed. ‘Now we can pick up some speed,’ he muttered.
A flash of red caught Evadne’s eye and she looked up as a much smaller longboat with a red sail soared over them. Captain Lyssa.
‘How did they get through the vines?’ she asked aloud. Hercules growled.
‘She has more of my
strength than I estimated. Where’s the new slingshot?’
Evadne crouched in the boat, scanning the bottom for the weapon. It wasn’t really a slingshot at all; it was more like a hand-held ballista. They had called it a crossbow on Leo, the first of its kind. She found it, and pulled metal bolts from the pouch on her belt to load it. She knew they would be far more lethal than the lead shot everyone else was using. It didn’t really feel fair, but all four crews had been chosen by the gods, they all had help, and most had means. This was a battle, and the prize was worth the cost. She slid a bolt in and pulled back the band.
The landscape around them was changing. The vivid greens were dulling, muddy browns and dusty oranges replacing them as dirt covered the grass. The rolling hills were growing in height, becoming thinner and jagged, and a canyon was forming before them. The stag began to weave between the spindly peaks jutting out of the ground.
‘Are we supposed to follow its path exactly?’ she asked, knowing the answer but wanting to make sure Hercules did too. He didn’t answer but the boat moved to follow the path of the stag. They were close enough that they could see the gold flash of its hooves and make out the shining curves of its antlers. Lyssa was still above them, but not hugely ahead. She was following the creature precisely, rounding every spindle and rocky outcrop the stag did. Soon there was no grass left at all, the barren rock turning a deep terracotta. The valley they were flying through deepened and the jutting spires increased in number. Every now and again the valley would curve sharply, forcing them around bends so tight that they almost went back on themselves.
Evadne started to enjoy the feeling, now that she wasn’t in control. Her ponytail whipped behind her as they picked up speed. There was no sign of the other two crews and Lyssa was not making up any more ground. Adrenaline pulsed through her as she thought about winning. How happy Hercules would be. How they would be that much closer to immortality.
‘I’m going to take the boat up. Shoot when we get level,’ Hercules called.
Her elation dipped.
‘Shouldn’t we just speed up? Win that way?’ she said, before she could stop herself.
‘Shoot when we get level,’ he repeated.
She took a long breath and raised the crossbow.
‘Yes, Captain.’
22
The indifference Hercules had felt towards his daughter when he began the Trials was gone. His grudging respect for her tenacity and spirit aside, he needed her out of his way, permanently. He’d never set out to kill her or her mother four years ago; those actions had been out of his control. But this time, he knew exactly what he was doing. Keeping the golden-horned stag in sight, he willed his boat higher. Lyssa was only feet ahead of him. He swerved around a rust-coloured rock spire, the boat still rising, but made no move to overtake. He held his arm high as they drew up behind the smaller boat. The useless boy she had as lookout was facing forward, in the same direction as her.
‘Shoot!’ he cried and dropped his arm. He heard the bolt loose from Evadne’s weapon at the same time as Lyssa’s boat plummeted towards the ground. ‘What in Zeus’s name is she doing?’ he yelled, then realised he’d lost sight of the stag.
He launched his boat after hers, spotting the stag galloping headlong at the rocky ground. At the last minute it pulled up, heading fast towards a dark hole in the face of the canyon. A cave. Lyssa’s shining red sail dimmed in front of him as both boats sped into the cave mouth, swerving immediately to follow the narrow channel winding through the rock. Dust flew up around them as they shot through the tunnel and Evadne began coughing.
It was pitch dark inside the rock, making the outline of the shining stag ahead crystal clear. The glow of both boats’ sails shone off the rock walls as they zipped through the passage after the creature. Hercules glanced up at his already dimming sail, acutely aware that with no light at all it would start to lose power. He narrowed his eyes at the red rippling across Lyssa’s sail in front of him. He had never channelled his own divine strength into a ship like that. Perhaps it was time he started. He assumed it would be the same as wielding Keravnos.
‘The end of the tunnel,’ said Evadne, around spluttering coughs. The tunnel was straightening and he could see bright light growing in the distance. There was a shout from ahead of him and he tensed.
‘Get ready to aim again, as soon as there is enough light,’ he told her.
‘Yes, Captain.’
Something whistled over his head and there was a clank as it hit the rock wall.
‘What was that?’ Hercules demanded. He pulled his lion skin up over his head with his free hand and focused on the growing exit. There was more whistling and then a thunk, and the boat lurched, scraping against the narrow tunnel wall.
‘It hit the boat!’ Evadne called.
‘What is it?’ he growled, righting the longboat, the passage too tight to risk turning to look.
‘Some sort of spear, it looks—’ She was cut off by another whistling sound, then the clatter of metal on rock. ‘They’re coming out of the rock face,’ she called, her voice muffled now. It didn’t matter, as they would be out of the tunnel in seconds.
The next spear hit Hercules, ricocheting off the impervious lion skin. The power of the shot knocked him sideways, though, and the boat lurched with his movement, bouncing off the wall until they burst from the rock into the bright light. They were in a canyon, only a few feet wider than the tunnel they’d just emerged from, but filled with bright daylight. His sail tautened and shimmered as he looked to Lyssa’s boat. Neither she nor her crew-mate had been injured by the spears, he noticed with disappointment.
Evadne was scrambling up the boat to get next to him.
‘You’re supposed to be shooting!’ he barked.
She pointed ahead.
‘It’s the end of the race.’
He followed her arm. At the end of the long, straight gorge were the tiered stalls from the start, loaded with waving spectators. He couldn’t hear them but it was obvious they were cheering. And next to them, standing on a floating platform, with her gleaming bow over her shoulder, was Artemis. He willed the boat towards her as fast as he could.
23
They were going to win. Lyssa knew it the second she saw Artemis at the end of the gorge. Her Rage had had kept her higher and faster than any other crew, and now there was nothing between her and victory. Excitement flooded her system and she felt the boat pull beneath her, reacting to her. A high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears, followed by a loud grating noise. Apprehension clamped over her.
‘What was that?’ Phyleus called over the rushing wind.
‘I don’t know, but it doesn’t matter. We’re almost there,’ she shouted back. Something was glinting off the canyon walls ahead of them. There were spikes erupting from the rock as the stag galloped past it, growing in his wake and elongating as she watched.
‘Captain…!’ Hundreds of sharp metal points were growing horizontally, straining to reach the opposite side of gully. ‘We can’t go over, the stag has gone through the middle.’ Phyleus was right. And once those lethal tips met in the middle, the finish line would be completely blocked.
‘Then we’ll have to speed up,’ Lyssa replied, gritting her teeth and opening her mind.
She was no longer the girl who ran. She could win. She would win. This was a fair fight, head to head, and she would win. Her hair whipped around her face as adrenaline poured through her body and she realised absently that her scarf was gone. She felt her hands heat against the wood, drawing the Rage from her body and filling the sail with power.
The rock walls on either side of her were a blur as they sped after the stag, her eyes watering in the wind. There was a thud and the boat shuddered hard, pitching her forward to land hard against the bottom of the boat on her knees. They slowed, momentum preventing them stopping completely, and she looked up in dazed shock. Hercules flew past, huge in his lion skin, Evadne holding a metal slingshot-type weapon and smiling. Time seem
ed to slow as Hercules fixed his eyes on her, a laugh big and obvious on his lips.
Fury pulsed through Lyssa so hard it hurt. She roared as she leaped to her feet, thrusting both hands onto the mast and hurling her fury into the boat. It moved so fast she barely kept her footing. Phyleus yelled as he was thrown backwards but she didn’t care. She fixed her venomous glare on Hercules’s boat and let the hatred flow through her like liquid fire. Her mother’s broken body flashed through her mind and her muscles tensed so hard that for a second she thought she would break. But the pain morphed, cloaking her, lifting her. She was gaining on him.
‘Lyssa, we’re too close to the spikes!’ Phyleus’s voice barely registered. ‘You need to stop, we’re not going to make it!’
They were level with Hercules now. He turned to her, his smile gone, frenzied determination on his face. She knew the shining spikes were approaching on both sides but she didn’t care. All she could see was him. All she had to do was stop him. Kill him.
‘Lyssa, give up! Give up now!’
Deep red seeped into her peripheral vision, then flooded her whole field of view, and pounding blood crashed in her ears. Phyleus kept screaming but it meant nothing. There was nothing but power, enveloping her, elevating her, making her stronger than him. Stronger than everyone. The pounding in her ears was now a constant roar, her whole vision filled with dark, dark red and images of her standing over Hercules, her holding the bloody poker, her raising the weapon and bringing it down towards her cowering father—
Something hit her, hard. Something bigger than her. The boat jolted as she crashed to the wooden floor, and she kicked out hard. As her leg extended, crippling cramps racked her entire body. She screamed in pain as the energy that had been coursing into the boat paralyzed her, trapped with nowhere to go. She could hear Phyleus through the confused haze of pain and anger.
