The Blood of the Hydra (24 page)

I strung my bow and nodded, keeping my eyes locked on the hydra.

“One… two… three!”

I unleashed my arrows straight into the hydra’s legs. Gunshots popped in the air from Kate and Ethan, along with the flashes of silver of Chris’s knives. Most of our weapons hit their intended target, except for a few arrows that Rachael had attempted to shoot. I smiled in victory, sending another arrow straight into one of its hind legs.

Then all of the hydra heads growled—a horrible screeching sound so loud that it took all of my effort not to move my hands away from my bow to cover my ears. Its balance wavered, and I waited for it to fall, confident that we’d weakened it. But then four of the heads leaned down, pulled arrows and knives out of its legs, and dropped them onto the ground like they were nothing more than irritating splinters.

The center head unleashed another blaze of fire at us, but it hit Blake’s invisible shield and died out. It blinked a few times, as if surprised we were still alive and not burnt to a crisp.

Then it dug its claws into the ground, curled its lips, and charged.

Chris held his hands in the air, creating a burst of wind strong enough to push the hydra back and pin it to the back wall. It reached its necks forward and chomped at the air, but it was too far away to touch us.

“I can’t keep this up for much longer!” Chris yelled over the rush of wind. “We need another way to hold it back.”

“Kate,” I said her name, whipping my head around to look at her. “You said you wanted to use the tree roots to tie up the hydra’s legs.”

“I said that when we thought we were fighting it outside,
near the trees
,” she said. “Not in the cave.”

“This cave is in a hill, and on the hill, there were trees,” I said. “The roots have to be nearby.”

“But I can’t
see
those roots,” she said. “And even if I could, they wouldn’t be long enough.”

Danielle narrowed her eyes at Kate. “If they aren’t long enough, then
make them grow
,” she said through gritted teeth.

“I could make them move—if I were able to see them,” she said, her voice rising in panic. “I can’t make them grow. That’s impossible.”

“Yes, you can.” I tried to sound confident, even though I couldn’t be sure if what I was saying was correct. “When we first developed our powers, you were able to make the plants in our science lab experiment grow—even the ones without sunlight.”

“But that took a few
days
,” she said. “I can’t make them grow in
seconds
!”

“How long it took doesn’t matter,” I said, hoping I was right about this. “The important thing is that you
can
make them grow. Just focus.”

Chris glanced at us over his shoulder, his hair flying in the wind. “I’m losing energy,” he warned us. “You have to try. If you don’t, then we all might end up as hydra snack.”

“Fine.” Kate kneeled down, placed her hands on the ground, and took a deep breath. “I’ll do my best.”

She closed her eyes, and for a few seconds, nothing happened. I held my bow steady in front of myself, ready to let loose as many arrows as possible in case Chris lost his hold of the wind. But then the cave walls rumbled—and this time, it wasn’t because of the hydra.

I glanced back at Kate, and saw the ground under her hands quivering, rippling from the point where she touched it, along the ground, and up the walls. There was a drilling sound, and then tree roots cracked through the rock—four of them in all—and grew outward. Finally they reached the hydra, twisting themselves around each one of its legs. The hydra grunted and tried to lift its legs, but it couldn’t budge. It was stuck in place.

Chris finally dropped his arms down to his sides, and the rush of wind stopped, silence ringing through the air. Kate stood up and brushed the dirt off her palms. With the hydra trapped, we had time to breathe—for now.

“Are you both okay?” I asked them. “How much energy did you use?”

“I don’t think I could do that again right now, but I’ll be able to fight,” Kate said.

“Good.” I nodded, and turned to Chris. “What about you?” I asked him. “You’ll still be able to lift Blake so he can cauterize the hydra’s necks, right?”

“Yeah,” he said. “As long as I only lift him when he needs to get up there, I’ll be okay. Although I’ve gotta admit, I’m sort of regretting not saving that mint from Zeus to use now.”

“We saved six lives by using it when we did,” I reminded him. “We did the right thing.”

“But what good is it if we don’t get out of this cave alive?” he asked.

“We
will
get out of here alive,” Blake said. “All of us. The hydra’s trapped. All we need to do is kill it, take its blood, and get out of here.”

At that, the hydra’s center head—the only one that could breathe fire—unleashed another blaze in our direction. Blake raised his arm and blocked it, seeming completely unfazed by the hydra’s attempts to incinerate us.

Danielle, on the other hand, shook out her hair and scowled. “That is getting seriously annoying,” she said, raising her hands and shooting a stream of water straight down the hydra’s throat.

The center head coughed and sputtered, like when a drink goes down the wrong pipe, but much louder. Once its fit was over, it opened its mouth to unleash more fire, but this time, nothing came out. Instead, it let out an infuriated growl, although it ended up choking again and coughing water onto the ground.

Danielle lowered her hands and smiled in victory. “It can’t create fire when its throat is soaking wet,” she said. “Just like I thought.”

“How long will it hold?” I asked her.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But I would guess until the water evaporates.”

“That should be all the time we need,” Rachael said, unleashing another arrow at it out of spite. It missed the hydra and bounced against the wall. She swung the bow around her back—at least she realized she was hopeless with shooting—and unsheathed her sword. “Let’s slay this ugly monster and get out of here.”

Rachael charged towards the hydra, holding her sword high in the air. We all followed, ready with our weapons. I allowed myself to fall behind everyone else, staying out of the hydra’s range, just like we’d planned. I needed to be ready in case any of the others got injured and needed me to heal them. I hated that I had to stay back, but I also understood—to increase our chances of survival, I needed to stay safe.

Rachael reached the hydra, jumped high in the air, and swung her sword at one of the far-end heads, chopping it clean off. “Blake!” she said, turning around to search for him. “I need fire!”

But Blake was helping Chris fight the head on the opposite end—and Chris slashed off that head right when Rachael called for Blake.

She was supposed to have waited to cut off a head until Blake was next to her and ready. But of course, Rachael’s impulsiveness hardly surprised me. I bet she just wanted to say that she’d been the first to take off one of the heads. Now, without even waiting for Blake, she was already fighting the head next to the neck she’d just decapitated, and Ethan was by her side, helping her.

“I’ll be there soon,” Blake told her, as Chris flew him up in the air so he could reach the neck of the head that Chris had just chopped off. The others were all fighting the head next to him, holding it off from attacking him. He flicked on his lighter, expanded the fire until it was the size of a basketball, and lowered it to the neck’s open flesh. It sizzled on contact, and the smell of cooked meat filled the cave.

As Blake was cauterizing the neck, Ethan sliced off the head that he and Rachael were attacking. The twins cheered and gave each other a high five.

But before they finished celebrating, the neck that Rachael had decapitated first started to rise. Within seconds, two hydra heads grew in its place, and one of them dove straight for Rachael.

“Rachael!” I screamed to her. “Watch out!”

She turned around just in time to face the hydra as it chomped down on her arm, its fang piercing straight through her shoulder. Ethan screamed, and when the hydra opened its mouth again, he grabbed Rachael’s other arm and pried her out of its grasp, pulling her to the side of the cave. As they moved away, Chris flew Blake over to cauterize the neck that Ethan had chopped off. But as he lowered the ball of fire at the open neck, the hydra freed one of its legs from the roots wrapped around it. It lurched forward, and the center head wrapped its mouth around Blake, its fang piercing his stomach.

“Blake!” I yelled his name, running towards him. I didn’t care if I was putting myself in harm’s way—all I cared about was saving Blake. I watched helplessly as Chris used his power to pull Blake out of the hydra’s grasp and lower him to the ground.

How had that happened so quickly? Blake had been fine seconds ago. Now, he held his hands over the hole in his stomach, staring at the blood gushing through his fingers, powerless to do anything to stop it.

“It burns,” he told me as I fell to his side. His voice was so quiet that I could barely hear him over the sounds of the others fighting the hydra. “Like it’s on fire.”

“I’ll heal it,” I told him, moving his hands off the injury. I gasped when I saw it. His blood bubbled as it poured out of the wound, the skin around it a sickly shade of gray. It was like he’d been poisoned.

“You need to go find Rachael,” he said, straining to get each word out. “She was hurt first. She needs you.”

I placed my hands over his wound and held my gaze with his. “Your injury’s worse than hers,” I said, although I would have gone to him first no matter what. I would never be able to focus on healing someone else—not when I knew that Blake needed me. So without allowing him to argue any further, I called on the white energy and sent it into his body, my eyes locked with his the entire time. “You’re going to be okay,” I told him, although I wasn’t sure if I was saying it for his benefit, or for mine. “I promise you’ll be okay.”

He nodded and gave me a small smile. Despite his telling me to go to Rachael first, I could tell he was grateful that I’d stayed with him. Once the energy could find nothing more to heal, I lifted my hand and ran my fingers over the smooth skin of his stomach. I was finally able to breathe again when I saw that I’d done it. I’d healed him.

He sat up, his face inches from mine, watching me with so much intensity that my heart leaped into my throat. I’d come so close to losing him. But he was here, and he was okay, and I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t told him about my feelings for him before coming into this fight. I wanted—no, I
needed
—to tell him. Right now. But I couldn’t find the words to begin. So I did the only thing I could think to do to get across my feelings—I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his.

He kissed me back, his lips so warm, and
alive
. But then he pulled away, breathing steadily and resting his forehead against mine. “Nicole,” he said my name, his voice soft and raspy. I tasted salt on my lips—tears. I must have been crying and not even realized it. “You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that again.” He caressed my cheeks with his fingers, as if making sure I were real. “But we can’t—not now. I have to help the others. And you have to heal Rachael.”

“You’re right,” I said, allowing him to take my hands and help me up. Standing on my tiptoes, I kissed him again, and then forced myself to break away. He nodded at me—I knew he was telling me to do what was right—so I turned around and hurried to Rachael’s side.

She laid on the ground near the side of the cave, staring up at the ceiling. Ethan hunched over her. His hands covered the place where the hydra’s fang had pierced her shoulder, as if he was trying to heal her himself. Not wanting to startle him, I placed my hand on his shoulder, letting him know I was there. He stiffened at my touch, although he didn’t turn around.

“I need to see the wound,” I told him gently. “So I can heal her.”

The moment he pulled away, I knew it was too late. The skin around the hole where the fang had pierced through Rachael’s shoulder was cracked and blackened. All her veins had expanded, her complexion now a sickly shade of gray. It was as if her blood had been poisoned. Given what Blake had said about how his injury had burned, I suspected that was the case. Her eyes were glazed over—lifeless. I knew she was dead before placing my hands on her wound and sensing no energy coming from her body.

“I can’t.” I shook my head and stared down at the ground. “She’s gone.”

“No,” Ethan said, and I forced myself to meet his gaze, knowing I couldn’t avoid it forever. He narrowed his eyes at me, his jaw clenched in anger. “She can’t be gone,” he said. “You said you wouldn’t let anything happen to us. Back on the yacht, when you first rescued us from the lotus-eaters. You
promised
.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered, barely able to talk around the lump in my throat. I pulled my hands off Rachael’s body and moved away from her, not wanting to touch her for a moment longer. The unnatural hugeness of her swollen, discolored veins against her pale skin was so inhuman it made me feel sick. “There’s nothing I can do.”

“You haven’t even tried!” He grabbed my wrists, forcing my hands back on the blackened wound. I tried to pull away, but he was so strong that I couldn’t move. “At least try,” he said, his lips up right against my ear. “You promised you could heal her.”