A Game of Retribution (Hades Saga #2)(58)

But as he grabbed it, it snapped in half, burdened by his momentum, and he continued falling to the ground, the hydra’s heads chasing after him, open-mouthed, a rain of venom pouring down around him, touching his body like drops of drizzle, burning his skin.

He couldn’t let the hydra catch him on the ground. So he hurled the torch at one of the open mouths, and as it hit, it burst into flames.

The creature bellowed and all its heads flailed. The crowd screamed, and Hades knew that those who had remained after the hydra’s first attack were probably wishing they had left.

With the hydra distracted, Hades rushed for his shield, which lay discarded across the arena. Scooping it up, he then ran for another torch.

This time, he managed to top the wall, which was wide enough for him to run atop. He snapped the torch from its place and ran for the next, tossing them to the ground below.

When he came to the final one, the hydra had recovered, and as it charged for him, he waited until the last second to jump from the wall. As its heads collided with the wall, Hades bore down on one of the necks with his shield. The impact was jarring, but the shield cut into the creature’s flesh enough for Hades to shove a lit torch inside. A second head was on fire, but this time as the monster reacted, it jerked, sending Hades flying across the arena.

He hit the wall, but he landed on his sore feet, legs shaking from the pain.

He watched as the hydra worked to put out the fire burning through one of its necks. A few of the heads screamed at it, but the venom only seemed to make it worse while others tried to beat at the flames with their heads. His gaze turned toward the box where Hera sat with Theseus. Neither was paying attention, each consumed in conversation with the other, and there was something about that sight that made Hades rage.

He was finished with this.

He turned toward the hydra, took up his shield, but instead of using it to defend, he used it like a disc, heaving it through the air. It tore through the hydra, and as it did, the head that had been on fire dropped into the puddle of blood and venom left behind. The entire carcass erupted in fire, filling the arena with the smell of burning flesh. The remaining heads whipped back and forth, and as each one fell to the ground, it shook, their screams growing hoarse until, eventually, all was quiet save for the sound of crackling fire.

The hydra was now a resident of the Underworld.





Chapter XVI

The Battle with Heracles

No one cheered, though he had not expected celebration, not to mention most of the people who had occupied the seats of the stadium had fled during the horror that was the hydra.

Indeed, the aftermath was much like the end of a battle when a strange and dreadful silence settled heavily in the air. It was the silence of death, the sound of life stolen from all living things, not just human.

And it was over.

A ringing settled deep in Hades’s ears, and before it could grow worse, he offered Hera a vulgar gesture, then turned to leave the stadium.

Except that as soon as he reached the tunnel, a door slammed down, barring his exit, and a horrible screeching filled the air.

Hades whirled to find that a second gate had opened and released a herd of giant birds. There were easily twenty, all with bronze beaks and deadly metal feathers that gleamed beneath the greenish light, and while they looked like something Hephaestus had created, Hades knew better.

These were Stymphalian birds, creations of Ares, the God of War.

Their beaks, talons, and feathers were deadly weapons and had the ability to pierce armor, which made getting close enough to kill them nearly impossible.

Hades would need a bow in hopes of even wounding one, though that too would prove to be difficult given their feathers were metal.

The birds screeched and charged, a towering stampede of sharp blades heading right for him.

Fuck.

Hades took off at a run once more, though the pain made it hard for him to maintain a steady pace. He gritted his teeth through it as he heard the distinct sound of metal scraping metal, and he knew the birds were airborne. Glancing overhead, he saw that they were circling, vultures ready to pick apart their kill.

Shelter. He had to find some kind of shelter.

Frantic, he glanced around the arena, spotting his shield. He turned toward it, just as a metal feather lodged in the earth in front of him like a spear. A second followed and then a third, barring his path to the shield. He changed course, heading instead for one of the entrances used by the monsters. The threshold over the doors was minuscule, but it would provide enough cover until he decided on a plan of action.

As he veered right, so did the birds and their feather spears, each hitting so close, the air felt like a whip upon their impact. If he slowed down, he would be impaled.

Except that the birds seemed to be aware of Hades’s plans, because in the next second, the small bit of relief he’d hoped to have beneath the awning of the arena was barred from him by a row of sharp metal feathers.

Hades halted in his tracks, anger boiling his blood. He turned, eyes settling on the corpse of the hydra. It was full of poisonous things, including teeth.

Once more, he changed routes while the attacks continued from above. As each feather spear hit the ground, it tore up the earth, sending rocks and dirt into the air, making his course to the hydra more difficult. There was no relief once he arrived either, as the entire creature sat in a pool of its own venomous blood, but Hades was already wounded by the venom, and if he could manage to win this final fight, he could heal himself.