The Age of Zeus

71. RETURN OF

It was the enormity of it, the effrontery of it, that took the Olympians aback so. More than the fact that there were still Titans alive and they were pouring out of the crate with guns blazing: the sheer gall of these mortals, to hijack the Greek government's act of weekly tribute and use it as a method of gaining ingress into the stronghold.

The shock took several seconds to process, and during those seconds two of the Pantheon perished. Athena first, then Hades. As bullets began whipping towards the Olympians, the Lord of the Underworld raised his gloved hands defensively, as though somehow his death touch might ward off the hailstorm of ammunition and preserve him from harm. The bullets, however, raked through his hands, shattering them to pieces and also shattering the face behind them. His sallow, skeletal features disappeared as if flayed. He went down with nothing but a bloody mess between jaw and brow, jigsaw pieces of skull falling away, one eye socket a ragged hole, his other eye staring bleakly out through all the gore with a look that seemed to say, This can't be happening. I give, not receive. This can't be happening to me!

The less combat-orientated Olympians scattered to the edges of the agora, taking refuge among the colonnades of the buildings adjacent. The others — principally Ares, Apollo, Zeus and Poseidon — recovered their wits and marshalled themselves to retaliate. The five Titans, meanwhile, fanned out across the agora, still firing for all they were worth. Sam watched them with a dizzying mixture of gratitude and joy. They'd survived Bleaney. Not just Hyperion but Rhea, Iapetus, Theia and Cronus. All of them. They'd got away, and now they were here, heading up the international assault on Olympus.

And they'd infiltrated the stronghold in a time-honoured fashion, what's more. Xander Landesman, under any other circumstances, would surely have appreciated the irony.

Apollo nocked and loosed arrows, while Ares went on the offensive in his own way, charging at the Titans with axe aloft and letting out a battlecry as he went, a wordless ululation that was intended to intimidate but also to express a kind of ecstasy. He picked Iapetus as his target, but the Titan accelerated, side-stepping at speed as the axe came down. Blade sparked on flagstone, chips of limestone flew, and then Iapetus's shotgun shouted. The blast caught Ares between greave and thigh-plate, disintegrating much of the Olympian's kneecap. Ares roared and swung his axe sidelong. The blow was swift, and the shotgun was sliced in two near the top of its stock. Iapetus was lucky not to lose a hand. He backed off, fast, and Ares lurched after him, limping but not hobbled — too lost in bloodlust to be hindered by a small thing like a ruined knee.

The helicopter had risen swiftly once the crate deception was laid bare. The pilot wanted to get out of the vicinity as fast as possible, for fear of becoming embroiled in events below. Tragically for him, he failed. Hephaestus reached out with his mind and took hold of the Super Puma. First he stalled its engine, freezing the working parts. Then, with a furious scowl of concentration, he assumed full command of the great five-ton mass of metal, bringing it straight back down into the agora. The pilot struggled with collective and cyclic, stamped his anti-torque pedals, but nothing was working. He was in a dead weight of aircraft, plummeting through the mist. Rotors groaned, windscreens shattered, he was bucked about helplessly in his seat, and still he fought to maintain control and keep the helicopter aloft, a true professional to the end.

Cronus happened to glance up just in time and yell a warning. The Titans scattered as the Super Puma came hurtling down. It missed them all, bellying onto the flagstones with an immense, ground-shaking crunch. Parts shot everywhere like shrapnel. Sam ducked for cover behind the empty crate as the tail rotor came cartwheeling past her. Several more fragments of chopper slammed into the crate itself, shunting it against her hard enough to send her sprawling onto the ground.

A brief lull, and then the gunfire resumed, and above it could be detected another sound, the trundle of massing stormclouds. The atmosphere became charged with static. Sam knew she had to get to her feet and move. Once Zeus started tossing lightning bolts around, anyone could be hit.

As she rose, a Titan appeared in front of her.

Hyperion.

Mostly she saw just his grin through his visor, but that was enough. More than enough.

"Sam," he said, reaching out to her, "you have no idea how good it is to see you again. And you have no idea how long I've waited for a chance to say these words. Come with me if you want to live."