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Lamias tore trees from the earth with their bare hands, and with every fallen tree, a dryad crumpled and died. A murder of echidnas ripped Athena’s spear from her grip, and impaled her with it. They slithered over her fallen form and rushed the part of the stairs still standing.
Demeter unleashed her cornucopia. Lashing, twisting, stalks of wheat snaked around their necks, and squeezed.
I looked away as they choked to death.
“There’s too many of them! If they get to the castle—” My mind rebelled, not letting myself imagine the carnage that would ensue. “I have to do something. I have to go back, and never use that fucking charm!
“Clotho, Lachesis, Atropos,” I called. “I don’t know if you can hear me, or if I just tell myself you can so all of this feels a little less impossible! Crutch or not, I need your help. Let me into the thread space, please. I have to undo this. I have to go back.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, body tense and brows trembling. With all my might I thought, wished, and manifested where I wanted to be. I scrunched my face so hard, I gave myself a headache, but no matter how many times I opened, closed, opened, closed, and opened my eyes, the abyss outside of time did not appear.
Hermes’s feet tangled in webs and down he went. Two typhons ripped out their tentacles, and launched them over Hermes’s flailing caduceus. They flopped on at the foot of the stairs—writhing, oozing... and growing.
Two full-grown typhons sprouted from the torn-off limbs and charged the stairs, not in the least bit slowed by the fact they came into existence seconds before.
“They’re on the stairs,” I screamed into the melee. “We have to do something. If they get inside—”
All of those innocent people will wake up one day, and find monsters in the one place they’re supposed to feel safe. Those lucky to survive will never be the same.
And it’ll be all my fault.
“Zeus! Hestia!” I screamed. “You have to turn around. You have to stop them.”
Even as I pleaded with them, I knew it was hopeless. The statues and dryads were overwhelmed. They were barely staying on their feet as wave after wave of monsters attacked and ripped trees out by the roots.
Typhons reached the top of the stairs.
“Clotho!” Calling their names wasn’t working. Maybe screaming them would. “Help me. I have to undo this. Help!”
The typhons halted at the threshold. Suddenly, they seized up, their horrific mishmash bodies shaking, and bellows pouring from their throats.
They exploded.
My brain fritzed out, unable to comprehend what I was seeing. What happened to them? Who did that?
Emerging from the entrance was the small, but unmistakable figure of that weird freak. It wasn’t possible for me to forget the guy who shouted his love for me while I clawed a curse out of his arm.
Did he do this?
“Titans, spread out,” he ordered. “Battle formation alpha. Fliers, in the sky. Archers, the arachnes. Children of Demeter, protect the dryads. Children of Ares, hold this line! No monsters cross!”
“Yes, kiri!”
His words were absolute. Demigods poured out of the academy—fearless like I’d never seen. Flying demigods shot into the air, attacking the harpies. A silver streak cut through them, flying faster than all.
Steel-tipped wings flashed in the moonlight, illuminating the rage of the harpies. I didn’t know what kind of flying beast Sirena was. I simply knew the harpies were no match for her. Her wings sliced through theirs, dropping them out of the sky. They clawed, snapped, and converged on her, and their strikes all glanced off her impenetrable skin.
The trees themselves came to life. They were like liquid rubber—bending and moving with impossible dexterity. Their branches snaked down, claimed the lamias trying to rip them from the ground, and struck their heads, threw them away, or ripped their claws loose.
Beaten away from the trees, vines shot from the ground, lashed them down, and Hyacinth went to work. She ran along,brushing her hand over each trapped monster. Emaciated husks were left in her wake.
Ajax was right behind her. Roaring, he punched his fists together and floating spheres of water, too many to count, appeared over his head. He threw out his arms and they flew—splashing over typhons, engulfing echidnas, and claiming all the heads of a cerberus. Right there on dry land, they flailed and slashed uselessly at the orbs—drowning.
This was the power of the Titans.
I’d never understand why this world had to be so horrible to the Sisypheans, but it was then I understood why they needed the Titans. The monster scourge was every nightmare come to life and bursting through your door, but the Titans...
They were the monsters’ nightmare.
