Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69923 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 350(@200wpm)___ 280(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
“Then, what are your powers?”
My ears quirked up. I stopped fussing with the clothes Jason packed me and stuck my head out of my alcove.
“I’m a son of Persephone,” Tycho said. “Children of Hades are rare. Children of Persephone aren’t. She was the queen of the underworld and had real authority—unlike Hera who had to give in to Zeus’s whims.” He sucked in a breath. “Basically, I can speak words of power. Whatever I say must be obeyed.”
“Are you serious?” I gave up on hiding my eavesdropping. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but what are you doing here?”
He shared a look with his friends. “Everyone’s impressed when I tell them, until I remind that Persephone was queen of Hades. My words of power only work... on the dead.”
“Ahh,” I drew out. “I see.”
“Thought you might. It’s not a fun power. Seven years old and making my dead dog sit, stay, and follow me scared my parents. They banned me from using it for years.” He lifted his shoulders. “I continued the ban on my own. I have no use for a power like that. The dead should be allowed to rest.”
“Goodness. Now I do feel it was rude to ask,” Daciana said.
He chuckled. “Honestly, it’s cool. There is shame in misusing a power, not in having it. I didn’t choose it, but I’ll choose what I’ll do with it. Thankfully, Commander Vasili agrees that I won’t do anything with it.”
Ionna squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll say it so you don’t have to ask. I’m a daughter of Apollo. He granted me the gift of prophetic visions.” She raised a hand, stopping me as I opened my mouth. “Don’t be impressed with me either. My visions are confusing, dipped in double meanings, and often downright wrong. I can’t trust a single thing I see.”
“I’m sorry,” Daciana said. “That must be really hard.”
Ionna looked away, jaw stiffening. “Yes, it is,” she whispered. With that, she ducked into her alcove. We left her in peace.
“Guess that leaves me,” Theron said. “I won’t be coy about it. I’m a son of Ares.”
And now I was fully out of the alcove, erasing the distance between us.
“Ares?” Daciana repeated. “But I heard it said children of Ares can only use their power when they feel intense hatred.”
He nodded, expression blank. “That’s correct. Which means every other day of the week, I’m as mundane as our counterparts in the neighboring dominion.”
“I can’t believe a power could be so specific.”
“Ares was the god of violence and brutality. He represents no more than the horror of war. A piece of that god’s essence wasn’t going to result in bunny shape-shifters or flower conjurers.”
“Do you know what your power actually is?” I asked. “When... you can summon it.”
“I’d know even if I couldn’t. All of his children have the same power,” he replied. “We can summon the destructive force of an explosion. The intensity of the explosion matches the intensity of the hatred.” Theron gave me a funny look. “Why don’t you know this?”
“Where I lived was isolated. Remember?”
“Right. Sorry. You remind me the world doesn’t revolve around Trono and its shallow problems.”
“Hey, we’ve all got stuff.”
“Yeah, I heard that...” He shuffled on his feet. “Are you sure that you’re not a child of Ares too? I got my ass kicked for years for being a ‘powerless dog.’ One day, Eryx Mallas decided he wasn’t content with me and went after my little sister too.” Theron’s eyes glazed. “That was the first I felt it. I wanted to hurt him, Aella. I wanted him to feel pain like he never had before... and then he did.”
A deep, pressing silence spread through the room.
Shaking himself, Theron cleared his throat. “All I’m saying is, I thought I knew hatred, but it’s not despising olives or wishing your mother’s new husband would leave out the door he came in. It’s tapping into a dark, brutal side of you that not only hates a thing, but wants it to suffer like no one ever has. If you haven’t tapped into that side yet, there’s still a chance you’re a demigod. Even if you’re the child of the most reviled one.”
I plopped on the couch with Daciana. “I wish I could say I haven’t but... yes, I’ve felt that hatred,” I whispered. “No power followed.” I swept over my new friends. “How bad will it be for me if my story doesn’t end the same as the man on his first boat? Those four other non-demigods, what happened to them?”
“They lived short, difficult lives as little more than exiles,” Theron said. “People saw them as thieves that couldn’t give back to the home they were living off of. That’s why they passed a law sentencing them to hard labor—though they did nothing wrong.”
“It also stops people from pretending they don’t have power to get out of the army,” Tycho added. “The main point is it’ll get bad for you.”