I open my mouth but say nothing. I stand there, frozen. Little Bean’s energy stirs, a tiny flutter that feels like a pat, and I wrap my arms around my middle, silent and watching as Griffin prowls forward to do my dirty work for me, one hand armed with my sword and the other trying to hold his blood in.
Something huge suddenly crashes in the forest. I whip my head around to look. Our corralled horses snort sharply at the beat of heavy hooves, and then a monster explodes from the woods.
I take a reflexive step back, my pulse surging hard. It’s the biggest horse I’ve ever seen. The equine fiend races across the meadow, its enormous strides shaking and devouring the ground. It skids to a halt near Mother and then rears, reaching terrifying heights. Its long mane snaps on the fire-hot wind, and its wild red eyes stand out like malevolent flames in a jet-black face. The beast tosses its head, staring straight at me. It looks like it can taste my fear and wants to drink it down.
Griffin turns back to me. “What is that?”
A creature straight from nightmares. It bares sharp teeth, and visceral fear punches me in the gut.
“One of the Mares of Thrace,” I answer, trying to keep the tremor from my voice. Aetos killed one on the Ice Plains years ago, and my friend wears the gigantic, pure-black pelt as a trophy cloak. Three are left. “They eat humans. Only the most powerful Magoi have ever managed to control them. Only one has ever been killed.”
“Hungry, darling?” Mother speaks to the horse, but she looks at Griffin. Her face twists in triumph. “I wonder if Hoi Polloi tastes like inferior meat.”
I snap out of my shock. Good Gods, if there was ever a time for my lightning to work. I pull hard on the threads of magic inside me and…nothing. Gods damn it!
The mare paws the ground, getting ready to charge. I start to sprint. If that monster wants to eat Griffin, it’ll have to go through me.
A deafening pop and a ground-shaking boom nearly send me crashing to my knees. Ares steps in front of me, his huge, weapon-decked frame a solid barrier between the mare and me. Persephone glides in from the right to protect Griffin, only a curved knife in her belt. She leaves it there.
I swing a wide-eyed gaze back and forth between the two Gods. “Now?” I ask, both irate and incredibly relieved.
Persephone turns to me, asking coolly, “Did you expect us sooner?”
At this point, I’m not sure I expected them at all. “You need to heal Griffin.”
Her eyes move up and down my body, taking me in. “And you, too.”
I look down at myself. I’m a mess. But Griffin is worse.
“What’s this?” Mother’s shrill question comes from where she’s still occupying the high ground with her terrifying beast.
The God of War stalks forward, and I see her eyes focus on Ares, get stuck, and then sharpen. She recognizes Thanos. Bigger. Scarier. More powerful. But still Thanos.
Quick comprehension has never been a problem for Mother. Driving the mare with her mind, she commands the creature to get down low on its front legs and then jumps on top of the horse with the help of her uninjured arm. The mare rises, and with only a thought, Mother and the monster race away from the meadow so fast they become a dark streak in the air. I blink, and she’s gone.
I missed my chance.
Persephone slides me a sidelong glance, one perfect eyebrow raised, questioning—and patently judging.
Less subtle, Ares whirls on me. “What was that? Did I teach you nothing? You froze!”
No, I think I chose. But I keep making the wrong choice.
“What happened to the woman who survives!” Ares bellows, livid.
“She survived,” Griffin snaps, dragging himself toward me. At this point, I’m pretty sure it’s sheer stubbornness keeping him upright.
“Not by much,” Ares fumes. “And no thanks to herself.”
It’s true, all true, but right now, my only concern is Griffin.
Hurrying to him, I take some of his weight against my side and lead him to Persephone. She runs a critical eye over us both but then takes out her knife and splits Griffin’s tunic up the middle, baring first his bloody midriff and then pushing his shirt off entirely. The gash looks deep, but it’s not very wide. Even Griffin can’t survive on determination alone, so the blade must not have hit anything too vital. There’s a deep-purple bruise spreading up his side from where the table struck his ribs. I don’t bother cataloging cuts and burns. They’re everywhere.
“This is deep. And there are two cracked ribs. You might want to sit,” Persephone tells him.
“Then you’d have to sit, too,” Griffin says.
She looks up from his injuries, frowning. “So?”
“A Goddess shouldn’t kneel in front of a human,” he replies stiffly.
She stares at him, unblinking. “Are you making the rules now? Should I inform Zeus?”
Griffin’s cheeks color, the splash of heat painfully obvious in his otherwise bloodless face.
“Sit,” Persephone orders, “or I’ll make Ares hold you down.”
Ares scoffs. “You won’t make Ares do anything.”
“You think I can’t?” Frost laces her magic-heavy words.
My stomach clenches, anxiety gripping it like a fist. It turns me inside out to see them fight.
Ares squares his shoulders, always ready for a confrontation. His eyes race with Olympian power and light. “You, your irritating husband, and that fleabag Cerberus all together might ha—”
“Stop arguing.” I cut through their pointless taunting, my voice like a barbed knife. “Griffin, sit.”
Ares turns to me, crossing his arms. “Oh, there you are. I thought you’d left Thalyria. Maybe went on holiday. Or took a nap.”
My eyes narrow. “Is this a game to you? You’re the God of War. Why are you even helping people who are trying to bring peace?”
Ares smiles. It’s genuine, heart-stopping, and completely frightening. “Peace might be on the horizon, but in the meantime, you’re giving me a damn good fight.” His smile fades into an expression of pure disgust. “Except for today. Today was pitiful.”
I nod. I can only agree.
“Besides, there are always Attica and Atlantis for more wars. Thalyria has seen enough. The magic is too strong here to continue like this. Someone’s bound to destroy the world.”
Someone like Mother? Or someone like me?
Ares manages to chastise my inner thoughts with a single look.
I glower back. I can think what I want. If he doesn’t like it, he can stop listening in.
Griffin grunts and then draws in a sharp breath when Persephone lays her hands on his stomach. She releases more magic, and he tenses so much his back bows. I grimace along with him. Healing is a painful process, often much more so than the original wound.