BLOOD OF OLYMPUS

‘Nico –’
‘Do it!’
Her javelin shrank back into a sword. Reyna sheathed it and began to climb, scaling the column
despite her armour and her supplies.
Down in the plaza, Aurum and Argentum were nowhere to be seen. Either they’d retreated or
they’d been destroyed.
Lycaon broke free of his bone cage with a triumphant howl. ‘You will suffer, son of Hades!’
What else is new? Nico thought.
He palmed the pocketknife. ‘Come get me, you mutt! Or do you have to stay like a good dog until
your master shows up?’
Lycaon sprang through the air, his claws extended, his fangs bared. Nico wrapped his free hand
around the rope and concentrated, a bead of sweat trickling down his neck.
As the wolf king fell on him, Nico thrust the silver knife into Lycaon’s chest. All around the temple,
wolves howled as one.
The wolf king sank his claws into Nico’s arms. His fangs stopped less than an inch from Nico’s
face. Nico ignored his own pain and jabbed the pocketknife to the hilt between Lycaon’s ribs.
‘Be useful, dog,’ he snarled. ‘Back to the shadows.’
Lycaon’s eyes rolled up in his head. He dissolved into a pool of inky darkness.
Then several things happened at once. The outraged pack of wolves surged forward. From a nearby
rooftop, a booming voice yelled, ‘STOP THEM!’
Nico heard the unmistakable sound of a large bow being drawn taut.
Then he melted into the pool of Lycaon’s shadow, taking his friends and the Athena Parthenos with
him – slipping into cold ether with no idea where he would emerge.