Griffin
“Throw the urn here,” Constantine bellows, “And I won’t kill him,” He indicates my badly injured mate.
I can feel Atlas’s life force waning, making Eris whimper.
“Well?” Constantine shouts. “Surely the life of your husband is more important than that mere object,” He snorts.
‘Do not throw the urn,’ Zeus’s cold voice echoes in my head.
I shake my head and look at Atlas. ‘What do I do?’
‘Do what you must,’ His voice is a mere whisper.
The sky above me turns dark as lightning snakes above. Thunder rumbles as I stare at the urn in my arms. It’s beginning to burn as my immunity to its effects only last so long. The ground rumbles as Constantine’s companion continues his chanting. Cracks in the ground spread from the crevice as the dirt crumbles.
‘Do not throw the urn,’ Zeus
