Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

34. Icarus

34

ICARUS

“ A re you sure?” Cyril asks, his voice full of uncertainty.

Icarus digs her heels into the sand of the training ring, nodding as she focuses on fortifying the armor-like magma coating every inch of her body.

All her time these last few days has been spent learning the extent of her newfound powers. Were she still with Aphrodite, Icarus could have asked questions about her abilities in her past lives. The fresh loss of her lover stabs in her heart, but she cannot get lost in that pain if she wants to make a difference.

Cyril shakes his head but pulls his arm back and hurtles a spear in Icarus’s direction.

Icarus grits her teeth and cries out for joy when the spear incinerates as it comes into contact with her molten casing.

Thus far, in addition to the wings that sprouted on her birthday, Icarus’s abilities include lava armor, accelerated healing, and increased speed and strength. The latter was discovered in the weight room of the exercise facilities. Icarus desperately misses having Lysander as a training partner, but Cyril has proven to be a wonderful friend.

Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else had been present for her failed attempts to take to the skies with her new wings.

The aforementioned boost to her body’s healing hid the evidence of her clumsiness, and Icarus kicked herself for not realizing her wings would need to build up strength before she could use them.

“Do you want to call it for the day?” Cyril asks, catching his breath.

Icarus ponders for a moment. “Yeah. I still need to get some training in with Amara today.”

“Start again tomorrow morning?”

“See you then.” Icarus waves him off with a nod.

Icarus encounters few people on the way to the stables, and she hates how her mind wanders to Aphrodite in quiet moments like this.

There is no magma armor surrounding the tender part of her soul, and each thought of the goddess pierces like an arrow. With every brave smile and conversation used for distraction, a cork plugs up the leak, but the relief is temporary. How long before there are too many cracks to repair?

Amara lets out a whinny of delight when Icarus walks into the stables, and the sound immediately soothes her. As she runs her hand over the silken coat of her steed, she revels in her connection with Amara, stronger than ever despite not being in the Pegasus Legion anymore.

“I know you miss the sunshine on your wings, but this is the safest place for us right now,” Icarus whispers, pressing her forehead against Amara’s muzzle.

The weight of the saddle is familiar as Icarus pulls it from the tack room, and in a few short minutes the breeze flutters through her golden tresses.

Darkness surrounds them, and on a hunch, Icarus channels the power within her, delighted when a soft glow radiates out from her body, casting enough light to keep them from colliding with one of the many mountains and rock formations that make up the Underworld landscape.

Spotting a cliffside overlooking the well-lit harbor, Icarus guides Amara to land and slips out of the saddle.

At the cliff’s edge, Icarus looks down to the water she knows is below, though nothing but blackness stares back at her.

This was not how her life was supposed to go.

She got everything she ever dreamed of, but how was she supposed to know those dreams were based on lies and propaganda?

How many other people have signed their life over to the Heroes to protect the realm and genuinely do some good, only to be forced to commit atrocities that will haunt them for eternity?

The anger seething inside Icarus burns brightly, and she looks into the dark expanse below once more.

Pebbles crunching under her feet, she takes several steps back before giving her wings a flap, running to the edge of the cliff, and leaping off.

Air whooshes past, and she flexes her shoulder blades to fan out her wings, but the motion is jerky and only slightly slows her descent.

As Icarus continues to flex to no avail and the ground or water below rapidly approaches, a fleeting thought of the stupidity of this moment flits into her mind.

Amara whinnies, and the proximity indicates her steed took flight with her and is possibly attempting to catch her.

The crashing of waves against rocks informs Icarus she is very close to learning which element will greet her body as it falls from the sky.

With a scream of effort, just as sea mist splashes her face, Icarus’s wings completely fan out, igniting into flames, carrying her safely into the air.

Clutching her chest, trying to catch her breath, Icarus cries out in victory.