Something!

My limbs are stiff and unresponsive.

Apollo barrels at me. Lunging towards me, turning his again on his dad.

Gripping my shoulders, he flings me to at least one aspect with such power.

One second, I used to be observing Apollo and the spear and int the subsequent I used to be flung right into a masonry wall.

My shoulder and again took the brunt of the blow.

Mud and powder rise, filling the outlet within the wall. Chunks of stone are nonetheless colliding and crashing into the bottom throughout me.

Sprawled on my again, a store seems round me. Lights flicker in my imaginative and prescient. The world spins round me and my ears are ringing.

Weapons. Most appear totally picked over with the occasions of right this moment.

My world spins round me as my bones ache.

“Run,” warns Arista.

“However Apollo,” I murmur. Keen my eyes to remain shut for a pair extra moments. Pushing for me to slip off to sleep.

Arista whispers, “He isn’t lengthy for our world. The plague. The mercury. Look.”

Pulling my chin to my chest, I spy Apollo stretched out on the ground. The spear protruding from his heart. Apollo lifts his head, curled solely barely to take a look at his father. His fingers grip at his coronary heart.

Ichor calmly coats the close by space in splatters. The liquid is extra viscous than the waxy quicksilver.

Did the spear break by the marble?

Zeus towering above his son, he grips the spear, ripping it out from his chest in a single strong movement. Yanking the spear backwards, he flung it to the aspect. Hooked up to the forged apart spear is a bit of marble. Virtually like remnants of a statue. The stone crashes in opposition to the cobbled streets.

Ichor flows by the streets faster than earlier than. Spreading father and father from his physique. Apollo curls after which, I see it. His chest is hole. Giant sufficient for me to see the cobbled avenue past him. Disintegrating rock, blended with ichor pulverized into mud beneath him.

No!

“Now, my expensive son, I will be taking expensive Persephone,” Ov enunciates forcefully. An extended muscled hand holding a close to spear factors in my path. “And he or she’ll assist me declare my throne.”

My blood goes chilly.

Persephone? She’s not right here. There’s been no hint of her in 100. Even dad couldn’t give me any leads.

Rolling over, I climb to my ft. I looked for a brand new weapon within the store. Every step, I scream internally. Ache radiating by each inch of my physique. Every weapon was large. Not made for a human however a big god or different immortal.

I have to do one thing. That is all my fault. He wouldn’t have been harm if it wasn’t for me. I chunk again tears and the sensation of guilt.

Swords, shields, and spears are the primary wares of the outlets. Behind a glass field, I see a black bow and arrows set tipped with gold. They give the impression of being giant. Like they’re meant for an immortal, however they’ll have to do. My subsequent weapon. Gripping a stone, I time the breaking of the glass with the shouts on the street.

The glass spider webbing earlier than falling throughout my ft. Slinging the quiver of bows round my shoulder, I snatch the bow into my palms and drop the rock. Discovering an already damaged window of glass, out the again aspect of the constructing, I enhance myself by. Ignoring the chunks of sharp glass piercing the pores and skin of my hand.

I land softly on the road. Surveying the realm, it seems the combating is elsewhere. Although it will possibly’t be too removed from the place I am judging on the noise. Crouching low, I pull again towards the wall and peak over at Apollo and Zeus off to my proper. Notching the golden tipped arrow, I draw again with my left hand, able to lose it once I see a gap between the columns.

The arrows really feel too massive.

Too clunky.

They’re meant for a god.

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