The Warrior God (The Ares Trials #1) - Eliza Raine Page 0,73

They were everywhere. They came out of every available bit of skin on the creature’s chest, ribs, shoulders, back, all the way down to its hips. I could easily believe that there were a hundred of them, each ending in a gnarled, clawed five-fingered hand.

“Cottus,” roared Ares, and I looked at him in alarm.

“Is that its name?” I hissed.

“A pleasure to meet you, young lady,” the hundred-hander boomed and I looked back to it in shock. “And I’m a ‘he’, not an ‘it’.”

“I, erm, sorry. Hi,” I stammered.

“It will be a shame to kill you today. I like your hair. But you, little God...” All of his hands pointed suddenly at Ares. “I will be very pleased indeed to kill you today.”

Laughter rippled through the crowd, and I looked between Cottus and Ares. “I’m guessing you two have history?”

“We do,” he growled.

There was a little shimmer around the Titan giant, and the next thing I knew, many of his ugly hands were holding bows, and small arrows were clutched in others.

“Your Lord of War has provided me with some most interesting weapons,” Cottus grinned, and something slimy dripped from the corner of his mouth. I tried to keep from showing how much he grossed me out, concentrating instead on one of the arrows. I couldn’t see them clearly enough to glean anything though.

With a sudden jerk, about twenty of his arms moved, and with lightning speed at least ten bows were drawn, arrows pointing straight at us.

The crowd sucked in a huge collective breath and Cottus spoke again. “Time to die, God of War.”

No magic sword was going to stop that many arrows, I realized, my stomach lurching. We were in serious trouble.

The wave of arrows soared toward us, and I felt a sharp pull in my gut and watched in muted amazement as they all burst into flame, falling harmlessly as ash to the ground.

“I can’t do that many more times,” Ares shouted, urgency in his voice as he began to run toward Cottus. “You’re not strong enough.”

I couldn’t help the indignant flash that came with the words, ‘you’re not strong enough’, but I held my tongue as I raced after him. My legs felt stronger and faster as I moved, Ischyros hot in my hands.

I was pretty certain that the hundred-hander’s arrows would reach the edges of the fighting ring, and he had damned arms all the way around his body. There was no place that would be out of range of the bows except one.

Directly underneath him.

Ares must have come to the same realization because he was pelting forward, racing to reach the giant’s feet, his powerful legs moving him faster than me.

But Cottus had already drawn the bows back again and shifted his arms, half of them now pointing at me, the others straight down at Ares.

A rain of arrows flew through the air, and my stomach twisted with the inevitable realization that I couldn’t stop them.

They must have reached Ares a split-second before me, because his shout of pain preceded the first sharp piercing of my arm. I felt arrows bounce off my leather corset, both on my body and the wide shoulder straps, but at least two met skin.

And thank fuck it was only two. These were not normal arrows. The one that had punctured my left arm felt as though it was made of fire, and it was pouring flames into my body, searing heat flashing under my skin. The one that had hit my thigh had only just got through the leather, but it was enough to feel like my whole freaking leg was freezing solid, the icy pain so intense that I could hardly breathe.

As the pain in my leg and arm began to overwhelm me and my pounding run started to falter, I felt a pull in my stomach. As Ares’ shouts fell silent I remembered with a jolt that I could use magic.

I drew on the well of power under my ribs, trying to make it focus on the agony in my body. A soothing heat leaped to life in my center, spreading out fast, and I felt my strength and speed returning as the white-hot pain lessened ever-so slightly.

I nearly collided with Ares as I reached Cottus’ feet, and the giant stamped and roared. We had seconds before he moved, and my usually impeccable judgment of my opponent’s next move was clouded by the pulsing waves of fire and ice burning through my nerve endings. I reached down