My stomach drops, and my eyes meet Griffin’s. His widen, and then in a flash of glistening scales and blistered skin, Sybaris grabs me and throws me on her back. Powerful hindquarters propel us high into the air. Within seconds, the whistle of the wind and the leathery thump of wings drown out Griffin’s heart-wrenching roar.
I squeeze my eyes shut against a shattering sense of loss. Eight years of freedom wasn’t nearly enough. I haven’t even begun to live. Tears sting my eyes, only partially from the thin air and biting wind. I feel hard, brittle things inside me begin to crack, and I almost look back. The need to see Griffin one last time is both overwhelming and terrifying, proving just how much of a fool I am. I keep my eyes closed so I won’t look down. I can’t bear to see what I’m leaving behind.
When I open my eyes again, we’re over the lake. I can’t help imagining us on the bank, Panotii, Brown Horse, and the others drinking their fill, me diving deep, Griffin thinking about who knows what, Kato whittling, Carver being an ass, and Flynn cooking a meal for everyone, all of them sitting too close to the fire.
My vision is so compelling that I start slipping off Sybaris’s back. She tilts, shifting me back into place, and I almost regret not falling. From this height, I’d die the second I hit the lake.
What was the point of all this, anyway? Why did Poseidon even want me with Griffin? I guess I’ll never know. I’ll never escape again. Andromeda will make sure of that.
I shudder, imagining the methods she might use, and for the first time in my life, I wish I hadn’t survived.
Chilled to the marrow by the knowledge of what my future holds, my eyes lock on the lake again with sudden clarity. Every muscle in my body tenses, and my breath stalls in my lungs. I can’t go back. I can’t let her have me. I’d rather die in the deep.
Not leaving myself time to second-guess, I twist and leap off Sybaris’s back. Andromeda’s screech splits my ears. Ragged clothes flap. Air pounds my skin. Wind whips at my hair. My heart breaks and explodes.
The water glows like the inside of an oyster shell, iridescent and bright. Fear, regret, relief—I feel it all as I throw my arms wide with no choice left but to embrace the end.
The water below me churns, changing shape in a rush of eddies and waves. An enormous hand rises from the lake. A living waterfall, the cascade surges up, rushing skyward in a tumble of foaming crests. Liquid fingers form, cushioning my fall, cradling me, wonderfully cool, infinitely protective.
“Daughter of my heart.”
“Poseidon!” I almost weep from joy.
“You are brave, but foolish.”
My heart pounds against my ribs so hard I think they’ll break. “What was I supposed to do?”
A deep, hearty laugh resonates in my head. “The Gods give you gifts, and you do not think to use them?”
“If I’d turned invisible she would have killed them.”
“Do you care?”
“Shouldn’t I? You sent Beta Sinta to me.”
“Gave him to you,” Poseidon corrects.
What’s that supposed to mean? “Why?”
“Healing.” Poseidon’s voice increases in volume and echoes in my head, the word overlapping dozens of times in a way that makes my brain hurt.
“I don’t understand!”
The hand gently sweeps me toward the shore and then disappears from under me, dissolving into the lake along with any answers I might have gotten. I swim five strokes and then crawl up the bank, limp from an overload of emotion. I start shaking and can’t stop.
A high-pitched cry rends the air. I drag my gaze toward the noise and see Sybaris spiral into a dive, heading straight for me.
I pull myself together. Sort of. I manage to stand up.
What gift did Poseidon mean? Sybaris won’t breathe fire at me now that she knows I can breathe it back, and I won’t turn invisible and run away when Griffin and the others can still be used against me. I rack my brain. There must be something.
Hades! The Cerberus figurine!
I plunge my hand into what’s left of my pocket. My fingers close around cool metal, and I draw out the figurine. Three golden heads swivel in my direction, ruby eyes glinting, and bark.
Mighty Gods on Olympus!
Sybaris crashes down in front of me, spitting mad. So is Andromeda. “You could have died!” she explodes.
“So? How many times did you almost kill me yourself?”
“You are protected by Gods.” There’s an undertone of stunned interest in her voice. I ignore how that makes me feel and hurl the Cerberus figurine at Sybaris’s head, praying to Poseidon, Hades, and anyone else who might be listening that something useful will happen.