Return Of The Godslayer

Chapter eleven

Naomi

I stand on the edge of rooftop, gazing down over the halfblood city. It looks almost exactly as it did the day I left.

The streets are full of people dancing and singing. Unity flags and Resistance banners stream from every building. Even from this height I can hear them, shouts and laughter and loud music.

Almost five years at Camp Halfblood's Outpost and nothing- nothing!- has changed.

"How does it feel to be back there?" Teresa asked, her voice in my ear.

"I don't know yet," I told her. "So far everything seems exactly the same as I left it."

"Could be worse, right?"

Could be better.

I stare down at the jumble of greek buildings. The Argus loomed in the distance, higher than any building in the entire sector, higher than the forested hills to the north, higher than the citadel.

"Teresa, are you sure he's here?" I asked, glancing down at the datapad at my wrist. Teresa stared off screen at something I couldn't see. Probably checking one of the many computers I know she's surround by.

Tapping away at a keyboard, she said, "Target should be exactly 200 metres north-northwest of your position."

"You told me northwest."

She shrugged. "He moved."

I cursed quietly, scooting back a few paces. Most buildings in this part of the city follow a Greek design which meant they were often close together, not too high up and usually had flat roofs. It's like they designed this city for people like me.

I race along the building, the winds whipping by me, pressing harder the faster I ran. I whisper a command to gather them around me and used their force to launch myself to a distant rooftop. I landed on top of a warehouse, sprinted the length of it, then jumped and fell six feet onto a lower building.

Leaping from rooftops was one of the first things I learnt to do at the Outpost and I reveled in it, reveled in the way my heart raced, the way my feet and arms ached from exertion, the taste of the night air and the secret power of moving through the night as a shadow.

I leaped twenty feet across a gap to the nearest rooftop, my legs pumping as if they were running on air. My feet slam into solid ground and pain prickles through my shins as I run to regain my balance.

"One of these days you're gonna break your neck." Teresa shook her head at me, but she was grinning, a proud look in her eyes. I'd done that all while invisible.

I return to the view of the city, dropping to a knee. I unslung the crossbow from my shoulder and loaded it with a bronze bolt.

"He should be right in front of you," Teresa said.

Through the scope I saw a man sitting at a bench in one of the less crowded areas of the park. He was maybe in his late forties, clean shaven with balding hair and he wore casual clothes.

His aura was a deep purple. The smoky wisps curled around him and where they gathered his form flickered like a ripple in water.

"A demon?" I asked aloud, tightening the scope to better see his true form. He had horns, leathery skin, glowing eyes, and a sword hanging from his side.

"A rogue," Teresa said. "His name is Acaelus. Christian origin. Your orders are to terminate him."

I stare at him, surprised. His aura showed only purple so he couldn't be that dangerous. "He seems nervous," I said, noticing the not-so-subtle-way he kept looking around him, a hand resting on the hilt of the black sword. Poor bastard. He must've expected a swordfight.