Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

18. Hestia

18

HESTIA

A s the ship docks, Hestia looks up the hill of the island to the temple ruins. It is hard to imagine an important book being somewhere like this, so remote and run down, but who is she to question Cassandra’s visions?

The small landing party gathers and goes ashore. Hestia, Alec, Medusa, Psyche, Cadmus, Dionysus, and Cyril trudge up the long walk.

Hestia pauses to catch her breath, wishing for a single cloud to cover the blinding sun as its rays mercilessly beat down on them. She is still learning the limits of this mortal body and curses herself every time her stamina fails her.

“What are we hoping to find again?” Dionysus asks.

Hestia pinches the bridge of her nose, rethinking her decision to ask him to come along. Thus far, he has depleted their mead stocks, complained about the food, and is responsible for multiple crew members returning to their ship posts late.

Stifling her irritation, Hestia takes a deep breath. By some miracle of the Fates, she has yet to let her brave face slip despite the almost constant worry.

“A book. I’m not sure what it looks like, so unless we find a library or something, just bring me any books you find,” Hestia answers with a sigh.

As they get closer to the temple, the amount of spider silk across rocks and covering the trunks of trees increases. Hestia sends a prayer up to the Fates that the creator of those webs is long gone. The rumors of the island being overrun by spiders has always been considered a myth, but it looks like there is more truth to them by the minute.

Up ahead, Alec and Cadmus are murmuring between themselves, pointing in the direction of the webs, speaking too low for her to hear.

The scraping sound of metal on metal echoes off the rocks as swords are drawn.

Hestia steps back and lets the armed members of the party walk ahead. Dionysus does the same, and the god and former god exchange nervous glances.

The closer they get to the temple, the quieter everyone else becomes. The useless chatter has ceased entirely, and the tension in the silence is so thick, it would take a hydra to cut through it.

The tall walls of the temple are before them and blissfully cast the party in shadow, giving Hestia a blessed relief from the sweltering sun. Her cloak is rough beneath her fingers as she pulls a corner of it up to wipe the sweat from her neck and brow.

Next to her, Dionysus uncorks a container and hands it to Hestia. “Drink.”

Hestia gives him a pointed look, narrowing her eyes.

Dionysus sighs. “It’s water. Drink it,” he urges.

The cool liquid soothes Hestia’s dry throat, and she drinks half of the container, and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand when she is finished.

Up ahead, Cadmus puts his finger to his lips to tell everyone to be quiet, and the whispered conversations stop instantly.

Hestia’s pulse thunders in her ears when they reach the entrance to the temple. Do they need to look for traps?

Frantically looking around the entrance, Hestia’s breath stops when she sees the giant white spider above the doorway, descending from silken webs onto Cadmus and Alec too quickly for Hestia to warn them.

Someone else comes running out of the temple. Hera! Hestia’s heart soars at the sight of her friend, but the moment is short-lived.

“Stop!” Despite Hera’s shouts, the spider collides with the two men, and Hestia is surrounded by the sound of swords hitting stone and slicing through the air.

It all happens so fast. The spider, Cadmus and Alec, Hera. Clashing together in the blink of an eye.

Cadmus’s sword slices a gash down Hera’s arm.

The goddess cries out in pain, and Hestia’s world stops.