Storm of Olympus by Claire Andrews

Author:Claire Andrews [M. ANDREWS, CLAIRE]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Little, Brown Books for Young Readers
Published: 2023-09-05T00:00:00+00:00

The next morning, I’m the most rested I’ve ever been. Hermes, on the other hand, is grimacing and rubbing the back of his neck. He walks stiffly around the chittering gryphons, careful to avoid the cats running around our feet and rubbing against our ankles.

He heaves a great sigh. “That old hag could have given me a warning. I slept funny and now there’s an ache in my neck that just won’t go away.”

“Perhaps that’s just your old age catching up with you.” I chuckle, packing the food Hecate gave us into the makeshift saddlebags for the gryphons.

Hermes grabs the sack of dried fruit before I can stuff it away, pulling me toward his chest.

He drops his voice. “Or maybe I just need your lovely hands to rub my back.”

I scoff, pulling said hands gently from his grip. “You are such a flirt.”

He’s undeterred. “I could return the gesture.” His hand drops mine to trail up my spine. I shiver beneath his touch and relentless gaze.

“Quit flirting and get your ass on that big bird.” Ligeia’s voice makes us leap apart. The rising sun behind her floods the plain with silver light as she stomps over to us and shoves a sack into his hands.

Hecate calls out over the gryphons’ backs, “I will not greet Zeus in my city simply because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself for another day, Hermes.”

The handsome god winks at me but turns back to his packing. Apollo catches my eye over Ligeia’s shoulder, face unreadable. There’s still so much left unsaid, but that golden thread tying us together remains taut. I could tug on it right now and pull Apollo to me.

“You need a haircut, my love,” Helen says, lower lip trembling as she brushes her daughter’s dark bangs aside.

Hermione pouts. “I want long hair like you.”

Indeed, Helen’s hair is so long, her plait reaches past her hip. The end touches the ground when she kneels and grabs Hermione gently by the shoulders.

“Do you know how much I love you?” Helen asks, gray eyes searching the princess’s young face.

“More than all the sand in the eastern continent and all the leaves in the Taygetus.” Hermione’s voice takes on a singsong lightness, and she dances from foot to foot. “More than all the naiades in the sea and all the light in the sun.”

“That’s right.” Helen presses her forehead to Hermione’s and a single tear falls down her cheek. “I’ll come back for you.”

“Do you have to leave again, Mana Mou?”

“For you, my darling. I leave for you.” Helen hugs her daughter, arms trembling as she clutches the young princess to her chest. That goodbye will hurt worse than a dagger to her gut. I should know.

“Your brother will forgive you,” Ligeia says, reading my thoughts easily as she always has.

“That ship has sailed, for Pyrrhus and I.” I clutch my lip between my teeth.

“That ship will never leave harbor. Your brother just has too much pride to admit it.” My old handmaid shakes

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