Chaos Rising |BOOK 2| Harry Potter x PJO |Alexandra Marine|

ARIANA ADLER

Darkness clouded my vision, even though we were holding flares, which seemed to give out dull light that was somehow enveloped into the darkness as well.

"Are you sure this is the place?" I asked. "This doesn't look anything like a lair of a goddess..."

"I'm sure it is," Apollo answered from some dark corner of the room. "Hermes' sources are almost always reliable."

"Almost always?" I frowned. "How reassuring."

My thoughts were muddling up as we walked further into the room. Apollo's thoughts were far more disturbing, now that he had turned mortal and I could read his mind with my Legilmency powers, although he hadn't lost a single power of his. I couldn't really distinguish between my own voice and his, and my eyes were starting to droop. The only sounds were that of Apollo's and my footwear, that were making slight whooshing noises as we sneaked through the darkness.

"We really should've brought Hermes here too," I said. "Just so he knows how difficult it is."

"Pity he had to get off by Canada," Apollo answered.

*** 

CLANG.

Both Apollo and I came to a stop. "What was that?!" we said to each other, our voices barely a whisper.

CLANG.

I took a step backward.

CLANG.

"Someone's coming," Apollo said. "Or maybe it's something."

By the small light of my flare, I could see Apollo's blonde hair shining a few steps away. 

CLANG.

Our hands flew to each other, and I gripped Apollo's arm too tight for anyone's liking. 

I whispered a sorry, and Apollo nodded, although frowning. 

CLANG.

Through the shine of his glowing body, I could make out exactly one thing- something was moving in the darkness.

CLANG.

"Ah," a new voice said.

The two of us began to look around, our flares trying to find out the source of the sound in the dark.

CLANG.

"New- competitors."

"Reason fifty seven of why I hate Nike," Apollo said. 

My vision was bleached as the lights turned on so suddenly, blinding both of us.  

I had to squint my eyes to see what was going on. The scene in front of us was rather shocking.

A golden chariot, pulled by horses the size of elephants rolled slowly towards. The horses, clad in strong iron horseshoes CLANGed their feet fiercely against the ground. 

Behind the horses stood a woman tall woman, her eyes wide and raging, her dark hair in piled-up braids circled with a gilded laurel wreath, and her sleeveless white dress sparkling in the light. From her back, wings of gold stretched out, glittering as brightly as New York City's Fourth of July fireworks in the sudden light that we had encountered. 

Nike was truly crazily beautiful. She looked like she'd had twenty seven shots of espresso after drinking fourteen espresso martinis.

"Nike!" Apollo said, trying to smile. "It's me, Apollo!"

Nike raised an eyebrow. "Apollo? Apollo who?"

"What?" Apollo said, an eye twitching. "It's me! Your boss' son!"