CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED TWENTY-FIVE

Hopeful Thinking, Part 2

WARNING! The system has yet to regulate Hope’s Essence within you. Your body has begun to reject [Hope’s Essence (Lesser)].

“When you sip my essence, make sure you use all of it, Sam… Don’t even think of saving it. Otherwise, it might burn you up inside,” Hope had warned him earlier.

Sam didn’t think he’d used up all of the essence he’d drunk with his hopeful wish for the Argo VII’s systems to work inside Ares’ Sacred Grove, but he thought there would be more time before rejection occurred.

Your life force will continue to drop unless the system manages to strengthen your body against rejection…

“Hurry,” Sam gasped.

To Sam, the pain racking his insides wasn’t the worst thing in the world. No. It was watching his sister slowly back away from him while he lay helplessly on the safety net unable to do anything but watch. That was the unbearable bit.

“Don’t… go,” Sam pleaded.

But Pandora the 8th seemed intent on running away.

“Please,” Sam begged. “I can’t… lose you again.”

Pandora the 8th paused and gave him a look of concern. However, as doubt flashed across her face once more, she turned around and jumped off the Argo VII’s roof.

“No,” Sam whispered.

His vision swam and he drifted off into a state of half-consciousness where snippets of recent moments filled his mind.

“There’s always a risk to wielding great power, Sam,” Hope had warned. “But, on the off-chance that your body doesn’t reject my essence completely, allowing it to dwell inside of you for a short while before using it all up may even benefit your growth… And it’ll be a rush like you’ve never felt before.”

Sam wasn’t sure how long it took for him to acclimate to the Spirit of Hope’s essence inside of him. Only that more notifications had popped up while his surroundings started to look less like the landscape of a Picasso painting.

You have leveled up! ALERT! You have received [20] bonus attribute points. ALERT! A portion of [Hope’s Essence (Lesser)] remains within you. Possibly enough to grant you a low probability of achieving one to two more miracles. ALERT! It is recommended that the hero use up the remainder of [Hope’s Essence (Lesser)] within the next hour or this celestial boon will once again threaten your life.

Those kickass bonuses and dire warnings notwithstanding, Sam’s focus remained on getting his sister back. However, as his fingers pressed against the mat, his healed body revving up for the herculean task ahead, a warning cry appeared from below.

Farsight’s head was sticking out of the window when she yelled, “Get up, sleeping beauty! Thunder needs our help!”

It was a warning that chilled Sam to his bones.

Thunder had looked so cool and capable the last time he saw her that he couldn’t believe she would need his assistance. But, as he rose to his knees, his eyes taking in the battlefield to his immediate right, Sam saw the danger closing in on her from behind.

At Sam’s two o’clock, the giant wolf-like beast was thrashing its head around in the air to dislodge Thunder from its snout.

“Holy Zeus,” Sam breathed.

In the brief time he spent in his sister’s mind, Thunder had managed to jump over the beast and plunged her spear so deep into Rick the Hound’s snout that Sam could see its tip jutting out of the underside of the horror’s jaw.

Thunder held onto her spear’s handle while Rick the Hound buckled underneath her. Sam wasn’t sure how long she could hold onto her footing though as the horror seemed intent to throw her off like it was caught in a kind of berserker’s rage.

“She needs me,” he realized.

“Duh!” came Farsight’s reply from the driver’s window.

A prickling in the back of Sam’s neck forced his gaze back to his sister. Pandora the 8th had managed to get pretty far away from where the Argo VII was parked, but she was staring at him too. And he could almost swear that there was a momentary flash of recognition on her face when they locked eyes.

“She remembers me,” he whispered.

“Sam, we gotta go,” Farsight repeated. “Thunder needs us!”

Sam recalled all those years he mourned his father, his mother, and his sister. But now he had a chance to right the wrongs that had been done to his family all those years ago. Sam had a chance to save Serena.

“She needs me,” he repeated.

Sam moved across the roof in the direction of Pandora the 8th, but then he heard Thunder cry out.

Rick the Hound had finally managed to throw her off. More importantly, she’d tumbled to the ground and lost her footing, allowing the horror’s jaws to reach her. It might have ripped Thunder’s body in half had she not held her shield aloft to lodge it between those powerful jaws.

Out of instinct, Sam hurled Onus across the grove. The hammer smacked against the side of Rick the Hound’s face which gave Thunder the distraction she needed to get out from under it. She did more than just escape its clutches though. Thunder shoved her hand into the horror’s mouth which Sam guessed was so her fingers could grasp the spear still lodged inside it. Then, with the words, “Behold the wrath of heaven… a blade of light that obliterates great evil—Skyfang!” she unleashed a violent maelstrom within the horror’s body.

It was a spectacular show of force that was a blow fatal enough to cause Rick the Hound to topple over in what seemed like a state of near-death.

Thunder could handle the rest. Sam could now focus on rescuing Pandora the 8th. Or so he believed. However, as Sam turned his gaze back on his sister, he was dismayed to discover that she’d vanished from her spot, and no matter where he looked, Sam couldn’t find her again. Somehow, Pandora the 8th had disappeared from the battlefield.

Sadness and regret weighed heavily on Sam’s shoulders. It was a regret that, to his surprise, was reflected in Thunder’s voice when he heard her say, “I’m sorry, Rick.”

With a raised spear, Thunder stood in front of the dying horror.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you needed help… I’m sorry I couldn’t be your hero.” Her admission came in a tone so full of remorse that Sam thought they were far too alike when it came to beating themselves up over past trauma. “But I can help you now. It’s time I freed you from your pain…”

Sam watched Thunder plunge her spear into the horror one final time. Then, seconds later, the massive beast’s body began to disappear like red sand being blown away by the wind.

That was the moment Medea chose to make her reentrance. The sorceress appeared out of thin air only a few feet away from Thunder. She had her back to Medea so she didn’t notice that danger had closed in on her. Sam saw it though. From his vantage point atop the Argo VII, he could see the purple glow of Medea’s magic enveloping the sorceress’ hands.

“Not on my watch,” Sam growled.

He reached out for his hammer’s holster only to be reminded that he’d already hurled Onus at the horror.

“Styx,” Sam cursed.

“Sam!” Farsight yelled, “Wait—don’t!”

Her warning came too late. Sam had pulled out Gram from its sheath and threw that instead—and the sword struck air. For the vision of Medea was just that—a vision. In his hurry, Sam had forgotten something Chiron had drilled into him after the many times he’d been hoodwinked by the Trickster’s illusions.

Always confirm your target’s there, kid, Chiron had instructed. You’ve got the stats and heightened senses to check for the telltale signs of illusions—the shimmer of magic at the edges of a vision or that annoying prickling in your brain… listen to that. It’s your sixth sense telling you something’s up.

Sam had indeed felt the alarm bells in his mind but he’d been in such a rush to rescue Thunder that he hadn’t paid attention to the warning of his senses. It would be a terrible mistake. As the vision of Medea vanished from sight, Gram’s arc sent it straight at someone else instead.

There was a sound of a blade piercing into flesh, and then Thunder screamed. Even worse, Thunder’s scream was quickly drowned out by another sound. It was a roar so loud that the ground beneath Sam shook.

Medea’s Solar Dragon flew into his field of vision, and it looked even more menacing than Sam remembered. Especially in the eyes. For they held in them the promise of savage death.