but I was the one to pass out.”
Cronus shook his head. “I’m serious. Just … prepare for anything.”
Nerves tightened in my gut. “Okay, like … could you get seriously hurt?”
Cronus had already started his little magic session, Hound at his feet, me at his side, and arcs of blue magic lighting up the cave walls.
“Not permanently,” he finally told me.
Great. Hyperion had better be strong, because no way could I drag Cronus’ big ass out of here if he passed out. Especially over that chasm he’d crossed.
He held out his hand. “Lend me your power.”
I clasped mine with his and a surge of power rushed through me like a lightning bolt. This was nothing like Rhea or the other Titans. This was … big. I didn’t feel as weak as I had last time though, and I wondered if maybe almost dying—or that magically blessed water—had changed me, kickstarted my powers.
Cronus grit his teeth, sweat beading on his brow while I fought to stay upright. The hair in his hand started to grow. It took shape into a nasty little ball of muscle and bone.
The snowy walls started to melt as Cronus’ magic lit the entire space a bright and fierce blue.
“Hyperion!” Cronus yelled. “Return Earth-side. You are needed.”
The ball stopped growing and I frowned. Something was wrong.
“What’s happening?” I squeezed Cronus hand, pumping more of whatever power I had into him.
“Someone is trying to keep him in the underworld. They’re pulling against us,” Cronus said incredulously.
“Fuck that. He’s ours!” I shouted and pushed out everything I had within me. Somehow, through no effort on my behalf, I was starting to figure out this “part-time-god” thing. I could feel my energy, I could play with the power. I could give as much of it to Cronus as possible to get Hyperion here.
The room spun as dizziness took me and Cronus grunted, trying to funnel all that magic into the hairball. Then, right before my fucking eyes, a god was born. The little gross ball went from hair, blood, and bone, to a half-naked god in seconds. I was just checking out his eight-pack when I remembered he was my fucking grandpa. #EyesUp #JustGross
The moment he manifested onto the snowy cave floor, Cronus made a final grunt and slumped forward.
Unconscious.
“Cronus!”
Hyperion snapped to his feet, getting into a fighting stance, and spun around the cave.
Upon seeing me, he nodded. The dark anger faded from his face, a face that was more beautiful than any being had the right to be. He had long blond hair, large gray eyes, and the sort of pretty features that should have looked feminine, but he was so totally male that you’d never mistake him for being anything other. #Ew #DontCheckOutGrandpa
“You must be Maisey. Thanatos told me everything.” His eyes drifted down to the Titan at my feet. “Did Cronus pass out?” He sounded curious and amused, and in no way as worried as he should be.
I nodded. “Is he okay?”
Hyperion crouched down and placed two fingers on Cronus’ forehead. “He’s fine. Got a Sharpie? We can draw a dick on his face while he’s out.”
I burst out laughing, not expecting that.
“I heard that, you fucker,” Cronus groaned from the ground.
“Brother! You must have been hallucinating.” Hyperion opened his arms wide and Cronus stood to embrace him.
Hyperion looked at me. “Did he tell you I was his favorite? I am.”
Cronus rolled his eyes. “Most of the time you are. What took you so long? The sins are out.”
“Well...” Hyperion rolled out his shoulders. “My psychotic little nephew Zeus tried to keep me in the underworld. Said you needed to clean up your own mistakes.”
“That little punk!” Cronus growled. “I’m going to kill him, once and for all.”
“Yes. Good idea. After we save the world. Where should we start?” Hyperion kept giving me side glances but clearly the matter at hand was more important than chatting with me. I was okay with that. Cronus blinked out of existence mid-conversation for a second and then he was back with clothes for Grandpa.
#ThankGod #INeedTherapyAfterThis
“Rhea. She needs help first,” Cronus told him as he dressed.
Hyperion nodded and then turned to me. “You look just like your mother, by the way.” He stared at my white hair and my gut rolled. The mother who raised me had brown hair, and even though we looked nothing alike, I’d always thought she was so beautiful and perfect. “She wanted me to tell you that she believes in you and she’s proud of you, and