“Poisoned blade, courtesy of the queen. Die, bitch.” The man laughs but it cuts off into a gurgle as Raven’s sword cuts clean through his neck.
“Focus, Beth. Get the pack,” Raven shouts as she throws a spear at the driver.
He blocks the spear with a blast of magic, sending it shooting back at Raven. She catches it with one hand before it can impale her on the end. She would not be happy if she was injured by her own weapon.
“Get the fucking pack off your back now, damn it,” Raven snarls and turns to the driver. “I’m a daughter of Ares, moron. You really think you can best me with weapons?”
I glance up and notice that of the four chariots, only two now remain between us and Heracles. I need to get the bag off my shoulder and get the elixir before I die for real. My hands shake and my breathing grows labored as the poison works its way through my system faster than should be possible.
My hands fumble with the straps on my bag as I try to pull it open. This is going to be harder than I thought. My hands are trembling.
“Bring it to me,” Draven says. “Can you scoot to me? I can help.”
“Just… drive,” I say through wheezing breaths.
“Beth, I swear to the gods themselves you better have drops from that elixir on your tongue in the next five seconds or I’m going to say fuck that plinth and do it for you,” Raven roars.
With shaking hands, I grip the bottle and open it. I hold the dropper over my mouth to squeeze the drops in but the chariot lurches and the bottle flies out of my hands. It crashes to the floor and shards explode in every direction.
“No,” Raven bellows and launches one attack after another at the driver of their chariot until finally a spear hits home right through his throat and he disappears.
Draven tightens his grip on the reins. “Beth, focus. You still have the dropper. Bring it to your tongue right the fuck now.”
I try but I can’t lift my arms. They are heavy weights like lead.
“I can’t,” I slur my words.
“Yes, you can, Beth. Try harder,” Draven demands. “I’ll stop this fucking chariot to do it if I have to.”
I glare down at the arm in question, begging, pleading, and eventually commanding it to move but it refuses to budge. I can’t do it. It’s numb.
“Can you lean forward and grip the dropper with your lips?” Draven asks.
I smack my lips together. They tingle a bit but that just means I still have some feeling in them. Bending at the waist, I grope with my mouth for the end of the dropper. Once I have the dropper between my teeth, I suck a few drops from it as I tilt my head back.
A rush of warmth and healing washes through my body and stitches up the wound in my stomach. My arms tingle as if they were asleep and not completely dead weight only seconds ago.
“Fuck, that poison was nasty. I wish I could bring him back so I can kill him all over again,” I say.
“There’s more people to kill in his place,” Raven says as she dodges a sword strike.
There’s only one chariot between us and Heracles now and they are spread thin between us both attacking at the same time. Draven keeps the chariot steady as we round the bend.
“Beth, watch out,” Draven roars, but it’s too late.
A bolt of magic hits me in the same side I just healed and I slam into the edge of the chariot. Black spots tint my vision and in the distance, a feral roar fills my mind as blackness washes over me and I fall into oblivion.
