The moment Hades finished speaking, Poseidon attacked. The answered him, surging upward in jagged spirals, twisting into serpentine columns that cracked with the residual lightning he was using to his advantage. The shoreline vanished beneath a violent tide, waves smashing together enough to shatter stone.
“Zeph—now!” I shouted.
My mate launched himself up in the air, using the wind, wrapping it around his body to lift higher and higher up in the air, until he was nothing but a streak of silver and blue against the darkened sky.
The clouds screamed as he tore through them.
Poseidon didn’t wait.
He slammed the butt of his trident into the ground, and the ocean rose into a wall.
It towered over us, miles of water compacted into a single, crushing mass. The pressure hit first, forcing
