by Eliza Raine
Storms of Olympus
Books 7, 8 & 9: Hermes, Aphrodite & Ares
Eliza Raine
Contents
Book Seven
Hermes
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Quote
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Quote
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Book Eight
Aphrodite
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Quote
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Quote
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Book Nine
Ares
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Quote
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Quote
Chapter 22
Thank you
Copyright © 2019 by Eliza Raine
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Editors: Anna Bowles, Kyra Wilson
Cover: The Write Wrapping
Hermes
The Immortality Trials
Book Seven
1
Lyssa gasped as she sat upright and pain engulfed her. A wave of dizziness hit her hard and she realised too late that she was going to be sick. She turned her head, unable to register where she was, and squeezed her eyes shut as she vomited.
‘Lyssa!’
She kept her eyes closed, still heaving. The pain in her chest and shoulder threatened to overcome her.
‘Len! Len, she’s awake!’
Lyssa felt a cool hand on her back, her body flinching involuntarily at the touch. ‘Lyssa, it’s Phyleus. You’re all right. Lie back down, carefully.’ He eased her gently onto her back, and she slowly opened her eyes to see him staring intensely back at her.
‘Where am I?’ she croaked.
‘The infirmary, on the Alastor.’ Her hazy memories sharpened suddenly and it was only Phyleus’s firm hands that stopped her sitting up again.
‘Epizon,’ she gasped.
‘He’s going to be OK. Maybe not for a little while, but Len was able to save him.’
Relief washed through Lyssa, and for a brief moment she didn’t feel her own pain. Epizon is alive. Epizon is alive. The words repeated themselves in her mind until she breathed too deeply and agony tore through her side.
‘What’s happened to me?’ she whispered.
‘A broken shoulder, and two broken ribs. We had to…’ Phyleus looked away from her uncomfortably. ‘We had to re-set your shoulder in order for it to heal properly. Len insisted you were kept unconscious, obviously.’
Lyssa looked up at him. ‘We? You mean… You.’
‘And Nestor. It’s not an easy job.’ Phyleus’s face was pale. Lyssa closed her eyes.
‘If Len said it needed to be done, then it needed to be done.’ She paused before asking the question now ricocheting around her aching brain. ‘Who won?’
‘That doesn’t matter now. What matters is that you get your strength back…’
Lyssa cut him off with a groan. There could only be one reason he wouldn’t answer the question.
‘It was him, wasn’t it.’ She opened her eyes, her heart sinking further at seeing Phyleus’s resigned expression. He nodded.
‘Stop crowding her.’ Len’s voice filled the small infirmary. ‘She needs pain relief.’ Gods, did Lyssa need pain relief.
‘Have they announced the next Trial yet?’ she asked.
‘No, not yet,’ Len replied. ‘You’ve only been unconscious for about three hours.’
Lyssa turned her head gingerly to one side, scanning the little infirmary, hoping to see Epizon. But there was only the line of low cupboards against the wall to her right, and Phyleus and Len to her left.
‘Where’s Epizon?’ she asked.
‘He’s still in the cargo deck. I didn’t want to risk moving him. We’ve made him comfortable, though,’ Len answered, leaning over her with a little dish of dark paste. The bed in the infirmary was low, so that Len could access it easily, and she realised dimly that Phyleus must be on his knees. ‘Captain, I don’t know when the next Trial will be but if you want to take part we may have to risk using ambrosia.’
‘I thought you said once that ambrosia might kill me.’ She frowned at the satyr’s serious face.
‘Yes, if I get the dose wrong. Which I might. That or you could develop a crippling addiction to it. But if I get it right it will heal your shoulder in a matter of hours.’ He paused, then said, ‘It’s up to you.’
‘Can we give it to Epizon?’ Phyleus asked. Len shook his head. Lyssa already knew the answer.
‘No,’ she muttered. ‘Anyone without a decent amount of ichor in their veins would be killed by ambrosia instantly. Let’s not use it if we don’t have to. It was hell to get hold of what little we do have, and we might have days before the next Trial. Just use whatever else you can to make this hurt less.’
Over the next few hours she slept fitfully as Len regularly slathered the bitter-smelling salve onto the bruised skin of her shoulder and ribs. His flirty banter was gone and his care for her modesty was a relief. She’d always known he was a great medic but she had never needed his care for anything so serious before.
Whenever Len came in she asked for news of Epizon, and each time she was told he was still unconscious.
‘What are his wounds?’ she asked eventually, as Len stirred up more paste. He looked sideways at her.
‘Aside from the lacerations on his arms and legs… his right lung was punctured. It didn’t collapse, though, which meant I was able to repair it. He lost a lot of blood.’
Lyssa’s stomach churned at the memory of Epizon’s blood leaking into the water around him.
‘But he’s going to be all right?’
The satyr nodded.
‘The whole crew offered to give blood for him.’
Lyssa’s breath caught, pride and bone-deep emotion filling her.
‘I didn’t want to risk using yours or Nestor’s,’ continued Len, ‘as I don’t think ichor or centaur blood would be compatible with his. But Abderos and Phyleus saved his life with what they gave.’ As a solitary tear leaked from her eye, sliding down her cheek and onto the white pillow, Len raised his eyebrows and smiled
softly. ‘You’re surprised, Captain?’
She shook her head gently.
‘No,’ she whispered. ‘But…’ She trailed off, not knowing what to say. ‘Thank you,’ she finished.
‘Of course,’ he said, and scooped more salve into his small, furry hand.
‘And if you tell anyone that you saw me cry I’ll throw you overboard,’ she mumbled, and the satyr laughed.
2
‘Maybe we just smash it?’ Evadne suggested, cocking her head at the white egg on the deck in front of them. Hercules scowled at her.
‘Just smash a gift from the gods?’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t think so.’
As much as he disliked it, he had to concede that the girl had been helpful on Scorpio. She claimed that the birds had become immobile when she had shot one of the telkhines that were controlling them. Although he had no specific reason to disbelieve her, she had been alone, and he struggled to trust her. But given that she had retrieved the egg from the nest he had opted not to push her story.
If only she could work out what the egg was for.
‘Maybe it will hatch on its own?’ Asterion said. They both looked at the minotaur. He shrugged. ‘Maybe not.’
‘I’ll go and see if there’s anything in any of the books about Olympus that might help,’ said Evadne. She turned to Hercules and inclined her head slightly. ‘With your leave, of course, Captain.’
Hercules smiled. The girl was learning. At last. He nodded at her and she turned, making her way to the hauler.
‘You may go too, Asterion. Watch the flame dish,’ he said, and dismissed the minotaur with a wave of his hand.
‘Captain,’ grunted Asterion, then clopped across the planks towards the quarterdeck. Hercules bent over and picked up the egg, tossing it from hand to hand. What was in it? Did they need it for the rest of the Trials? He snorted. Of course he didn’t need it. It was evident that he needed no help in the Trials. Lyssa had been ahead for one Trial, only one, before he was back out in front. Well, maybe not in front yet, but he soon would be. He let out a long, satisfied breath as he pictured his daughter swimming desperately towards him, fear and anger etched into her pale face. He hoped her large friend had not survived.
The egg was big, almost as large as a human head, but it weighed hardly anything. It probably floated, he thought, as he strode to the railings and looked out over the sparkling ocean. They were the only ship still so close to the surface of the water. He saw no reason to leave yet, though. For the last few Trials they had been given plenty of time to reach their destinations. Maybe he should just smash the egg, he thought. He stared at it for a moment more, then made up his mind. He would wait for Evadne, to see if she came up with anything from those books of hers. He was in no hurry.
3
‘Captain?’ Eryx called tentatively through the closed door. There was silence. He waited, silently praying that Antaeus would respond.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ said Busiris.
Eryx whirled around, realising that the gold-skinned half-giant was behind him, leaning languidly against the corridor wall. He scowled.
‘You don’t know that.’
‘I’m his first mate; of course I know that,’ responded Busiris. ‘If he won’t answer me through mind talk, he’s not going to answer you banging at his door.’
Eryx stamped his foot, the feeling of uselessness spilling into anger.
‘What do we do, then?’ he snapped. Busiris shrugged.
‘We do nothing. There is nothing we can do.’
Eryx narrowed his eyes and made to stomp past him but Busiris shot out his arm, catching Eryx by the shoulder. ‘I saw her, you know,’ he said quietly.
Eryx’s heart skipped a beat. He tried not to swallow as he stared into Busiris’s glittering black eyes.
‘Saw who?’ he said blithely. Busiris gave a low, sarcastic chuckle.
‘You’re a fool, Eryx, no doubt about that, but even you can’t be that stupid.’
Anger clamped around Eryx’s chest, his muscles tensing.
‘Don’t call me—’ he started, but Busiris cut him off.
‘Don’t call me stupid,’ he parroted, his voice high pitched in mockery. ‘I know, I know. You don’t like to be called stupid. But by letting her play you, you are proving that you are. And you’re risking the entire crew’s shot at the prize. Look at what she did to our longboat.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Eryx hissed.
‘We both know that you do, Eryx. And if you see her again, make no mistake, our captain will know too.’ Eryx bit his tongue in an effort to keep his mouth shut, turning away from Busiris’s cold gaze and storming up the corridor. Who did that slimy cretin think he was to threaten him? Still, unease and guilt trickled through Eryx like ice water down his spine. Busiris was right to tell Antaeus. He already should have, in fact. Eryx himself would have done, if he’d seen his crew-mates meeting with the competition in secret.
He reached the door to his room and kicked it open, snarling. He knew Evadne was using him. He had no intention of seeing her again. In fact, he had never made any effort to see her himself. But… But what if Hercules did hurt her? What if she came to him one day and really needed his help? He didn’t think she was lying about her captain. The impression she had given him about her feelings for him may be false, but he believed her fear of Hercules was real enough.
He threw himself down, hard, onto his bed, frustration making all of his movements too fierce. He had bigger things to worry about just now, with Antaeus refusing to talk to anybody and two of the four crews ahead of them in the Trials. They needed a win, and they needed one soon. That Trial should have been theirs, he thought, glaring at the planks lining the ceiling. Antaeus knew it, that’s why he was taking this so badly. Scorpio, the forges, the net… They should have won. They nearly did, until… Until Evadne disabled the telkhine and won it for the Hybris. He closed his eyes and swallowed, his resolve hardening. She was his enemy. She had made a fool of him right back at the beginning, before they had even left for the first Trial. He couldn’t, wouldn’t trust her. Even if she was the only woman he’d ever played dice with. The only woman who had ever spent time with him outside of his bed. The only woman who had gotten so utterly stuck in his head.
No, he scolded himself, halting his train of thought. Evadne was Hercules’s pet and Busiris was right. He couldn’t see her again.
4
Hercules had won. Hedone hugged her legs tighter to herself, letting out a small squeak of delight. He would be so happy! She wished she could be with him, to celebrate his victory, to hear his rich laugh, to see the power glittering in his eyes…
But she was alone, in her bed on the Virtus. Her smile faltered slightly. Soon. Soon the opportunity would arise and Hercules would be ready for her to join him on the Hybris. And until then she would think about him, imagine his face, his strong arms, his hands… Hedone lay back on the bed and closed her eyes, losing herself in her fantasy.
‘Hedone?’ The voice in her head woke her from sleep. ‘Hedone? The flame dish, you’re going to miss it.’
It was Theseus. The flame dish… She leaped from her bed and, not bothering to change from her silk nightgown, ran to her door. She yanked it open and dashed to the hauler. When she burst onto the quarterdeck the blond announcer was just fading from sight, his image being replaced by red-haired Hermes. The god’s twinkling green eyes flashed as he spoke.
‘Good day, heroes. You have done well, so far. As god of trickery, wit and thievery, though, I have something a bit different planned for you. I have a built a labyrinth in Crete, on the south island of Gemini, for you all to solve. At the centre will be a priceless gem, guarded by my own pet bull. If you can pass the tests and traps in the maze you will receive keys. If you can find the centre of the maze and pass the bull, you will need two keys to release the gem. If you do so, you will win. And, of course, you can keep the gem.’ He winked, running his hand through his short b
eard. ‘Finders keepers, and all that. The coloured lights will show you where to start. Good luck.’ Hermes faded from the flames, and Hedone watched them settle again, crackling quietly.
‘This is the perfect Trial for you, Captain,’ said Bellerephon, smiling.
‘It sounds like it,’ Theseus agreed, pushing his hands through his hair and leaning back in the captain’s chair. The deck moved beneath her feet and Hedone watched the orange clouds swirl past them as the Virtus picked up speed. They were on their way to Gemini. She looked back at her captain’s serious face.
‘You don’t look convinced,’ she said.
‘I just don’t want to take anything for granted. We’ve only won a single Trial so far, and Hercules is level with the Alastor again.’ Hedone suppressed the little shiver that came with hearing Hercules’s name on another’s lips.
‘If we don’t win, I hope the Alastor does,’ said Psyche, leaning back against the railings of the narrow quarterdeck. Hedone looked at her sharply and the woman put her hands in the air, raising her eyebrows. ‘No need to look at me like that, I’m sure we will be victorious,’ Psyche said, mistaking her anger for a desire to win.
