Though we have more gods on our side, the monsters outnumber us by a factor of ten, with more emerging—and reemerging—from the abyss every second. Unless something changes, we might be fighting a losing battle.
I don’t like to lose.
I turn back to the door, determined to find a way to turn the tide, just in time to see Gretchen’s little monkey friend leaping through.
“Sillus here!” he shouts as he lands on the ground near her feet. “Bring help.”
Behind him, our friends from the abyss follow—the golden maiden, the oceanid who led us to Mount Olympus, the big onyx guards, the unicorn, and dozens more.
Behind them, a ragged group steps through the door. In the lead is the gaunt man from the dungeons of Olympus, that prisoner Gretchen spoke with when we were looking for the gorgons.
He and Gretchen exchange nods, and I think I understand. We freed them, and that has earned us their loyalty. They will fight by our sides.
Most of the newcomers are immediately drawn into the battle, turning to face the continual stream of monsters pouring through the open door. I’m shocked to see my friendly school janitor—the big fuzzy spider—stand side by side with the golden maiden.
“Harold?”
“Miss Greer,” he replies with a smile before turning to wrap four of his legs around the neck of a one-eyed giant.
“We have others still inside,” the golden maiden says. “They are holding back the horde within.”
Gretchen pats her on the back.
Now I notice that the continual stream of monsters flowing through the open door has slowed to a trickle. My sisters and I are biting as many as we can, sending them home, while our family and friends use our envenomed weapons to do the same. The numbers are nearly balanced now, and we are holding our ground. But we are not gaining on them.
If things continue as they are, the battle will be a draw.
“Ssstop!”
A woman’s voice echoes over the crowd.
Everyone turns to stare at her—and I mean everyone.
Though she is dark haired and unexceptional, I recognize her. She’s the woman who led the hypnotized humans into the gym at my tea the other day—the same woman who confronted me on the street before that.
“Mrs. Knightly,” Gretchen spits.
“You may call me that, Missss Sharpe,” she hisses, a knowing smirk on her face. “But the time for falsssities has passed. I prefer my true name.”
“What’s that?” Gretchen asks.
The woman’s mouth spreads in a dark smile. “I am Nyx.”
The goddess of night?
She flicks a bored glance at me. In a graceful movement, she rolls her shoulders, and her entire body shimmers. Like fog burning off in the afternoon sun, her ordinary-looking appearance fades away, leaving a shadowy woman with inky black hair cloaked in a shroud of equally black smoke. Her ivory-pale skin gleams like moonlight.
There is an aura of malice around her.
“You’re behind this, aren’t you?” I ask, stepping to Gretchen’s side.
Nyx turns to me. “I told you I would sssee you on the battlefield.”
She did? When? Oh my sugar, the creepy text messages. She sent them.
Shivers race down my spine. “Why?” I demand. “Why have you done all this?”
Nyx shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “My children,” she says, “deserve to walk in the sssun, more than the humans who claim this realm.”
Grace moves to Gretchen’s other side, and we three face our primary foe.
“Your children?” Grace asks.
“Creatures you call monssster,” Nyx replies. “Cursssed by Olympusss, sentenced to a life in the dark. What kind of mother would I be if I allowed that injustice to ssstand?”
As we confront Nyx, the battle continues to rage around us. Our friends and family are sending the monsters back into the abyss, using the weapons dipped in our venom. Though some creatures are still managing to break through the defense on the abyss side of the door, we are reducing their numbers. Even a casual glance tells me that our side is gaining.
“Your children will have to pass through us,” I say, straightening my spine, “just like everyone else.”
“Look around,” Gretchen says. “We are winning the battle.”
“Stand down, cousin,” a deep male voice says from behind us. “Retreat, before your children are destroyed.”
The look of pure fury on Nyx’s face could melt hardened steel. I glance over my shoulder to see a man—tall, strong, and more than human. Everything about him screams power.
“The blame is yours, Zeusss,” Nyx spits. “You divided the realms and banished my children to the abyssss.”
Oooh, I would not push him like that.
The king of the gods does not react. “What is done cannot be undone.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Sthenno sprint toward our foe. “Murderer!”
The pain and anger in her voice slice at my heart. She has just realized that this woman, this goddess, is the one ultimately responsible for Medusa’s death. Her reaction is understandable.
With barely any effort, Nyx swings her hand and knocks Sthenno aside, sending the supernaturally strong gorgon soaring into the lagoon. That is tremendous power.
Zeus takes a step toward Nyx, but she casts a swirl of black around her that sweeps out in an ever-widening circle, pushing away every creature in its path. Every creature . . . except us.
My sisters and I stand alone in the middle of the black circle, facing down our enemy, the ancient enemy of our family.