Curses of Olympus (The Olympus Trilogy #2)

38. Icarus

38

ICARUS

T he cool air of the Underworld flutters through Icarus’s feathers as she and Amara gracefully fly through the skies. Flying with Amara instead of on is exhilarating, and Icarus finds herself doing it frequently when she wants to get out of her head.

Her wings are getting stronger with each flight, and soon they will be ready for what she needs them for.

Down in the harbor, a ship approaches, and she recognizes it as the one Cyril left on. Banking on Arachne being there waiting for him and wanting to spend time with her friend, she descends with Amara right behind her.

Arachne’s long bright white hair catches her eye, and Icarus lands next to her on the ground. She smiles excitedly and throws her arm around Icarus’s shoulders. “Hi! Did you come to see Cyril with me?”

“I did, if that is alright with you? I can leave you alone if you prefer?” Icarus asks.

“Don’t be ridiculous! Of course I want you here.” Arachne loops her arm through Icarus’s, and the pair turns to watch as the small vessel pulls into the slip.

The smiles fall from their faces at the sight of the somber expressions the crew carry. Arachne’s grip on Icarus’s arm tightens.

Icarus leans in and whispers, “I’m sure everything is all right.”

But dread clings to her as her gut tells her something is really wrong here.

The crew disembarks, and Arachne watches eagerly, waiting for Cyril. Iris is the last one to leave the ship, and Arachne rushes over to them.

“Where is Cyril?” Arachne asks frantically.

Iris drops their gaze down to their boots as they answer, “It was an ambush. The Pantheon is getting smarter. If it wasn’t for Cyril, none of us would have made it.”

Iris continues, but Icarus does not hear them as Arachne wails and drops to her knees.

“I’m so sorry,” Iris says to Icarus as they squeeze her arm and leave her to attend to Arachne.

Icarus lowers to ground and pulls Arachne into an embrace. “Shh. Shh. Come here,”

“He can’t be gone,” Arachne sobs while Icarus gently strokes her hair.

A flame burns brightly inside of Icarus, brighter than her wings or her glow. The Pantheon must be stopped. At any cost.

How could she have ever believed that these people were the ones in the wrong? It genuinely baffles her that she fell for the indoctrination so easily. Now that the veil has been lifted, she sees things so clearly for what they are, and it sickens her to know that she bought into it.

Icarus has no idea how many life cycles she has remaining, but with every new cruelty she witnesses from the Pantheon, the less she cares. Even if this is her last, she will gladly sacrifice it for a better world—like she wanted to achieve all along.

It takes hours for Icarus to soothe Arachne enough to allow her to sleep, thanks to the additional help from Psyche. The shockwaves of Cyril’s death are rippling through the Allegiance, and the mood in the Under Temple is somber.

As she walks through the corridors, she catches moments of conversation when she passes groups of people. Everyone is sharing stories about Cyril, and she wishes he could hear all of the oral epitaphs in his honor and know how loved he is.

Lost in her thoughts, Icarus finds herself making her way down the long set of steps. The debris from the cave-in was cleaned so thoroughly, one almost would not know it ever happened.

The bright glare of the star does not bother Icarus as she finds a large boulder and takes a seat on it.

Looking up at the celestial orb, she pulls out two pieces of parchment and a quill.