Read Timothy Boggs - Hercules Legendary Joureneys 02 for Free Online Page A

and filling the air with the stench of something that had rotted for centuries at the bottom of the sea.
    He took a step back.
    The shadow grew.
    When the sky turned to storm-ridden night, lightning on the horizon, wind damp with cold rain, he saw the eyes in the shadow.

    They were green.
    And they watched him.
    Though he wanted to run, the eyes held him; though he wanted to cry out, the eyes refused to give him his voice.
    When they expanded, he believed at first they were growing. Then he realized the shadow had begun to glide toward him, soundlessly, and there was nothing he could do but stare at the watcher, struggle to move, and widen his own eyes in terror when he saw the white that began to glow below the eyes.
    With a groan that sounded almost like a cry he wrenched around and began to stumble through the grass, not looking back, not daring to look back, not even when he felt the stench of the shadow's breath on his back, not even when the ground bucked and rolled, not even when he knew he would not escape.
    When at last he fell, he rolled immediately onto his back.
    He saw the eyes.
    He saw the shadow.
    He saw the white glow, and soon saw that it came from the white of the shadow's fangs.
    And that's when he heard the quiet, mocking laughter.
    "No!" he yelled, and sat up so quickly a cloud of dizziness passed over him. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, then looked around quickly.
    Iolaus was still asleep, snoring. The fire had almost died in its bed. Stars still shone. The moon had begun its slow descent to morning.
    There was no monster out there, and no laughter.
    He blew out a slow breath and lay down again, cupping his hands beneath his head. Dreams that powerful did not come to him often; when they did, he paid attention.
    At the moment he had no idea what the dream meant, or what formed that killing shadow.
    But he knew the laughter.
    It belonged to Hera.

    Holix was exhausted.
    He was nearly drained of all but the energy to get him to his favorite place above the sea rocks.
    Yet it wasn't just the work that tired him; it was the city itself.
    The excitement was almost palpable as the festival grew near. Every day, and most of the night, workers cleaned and repaired the walls, replaced worn roof tiles, and swept the streets. Travelers from inland villages and towns had begun to pour into the city, filling every inn and tavern, sleeping in tents on the outskirts, or taking their chances by napping in alleys. Musicians, dancers, and other entertainers practiced in the plaza; flowers were brought in by the cartload to be strung from roof to roof across the boulevard; the slaughterhouses were working overtime; and chefs were practically melting in the heat of their fires.
    Even the rebels had kept a low profile.
    Holix had never seen anything like it, and when the stable master gave him a break, he made straight for the rocks before all the energy humming through Themon fried him.
    Sadly, he hadn't seen much of his friends lately. But he had heard the great news that both Sana and Cire had been chosen by the council to be among the finalists for the title of summer queen. He was pleased for them, but he was also a little worried-No one had yet explained to his satisfaction why some of the previous queens hadn't remained in Themon. Based on what he'd been able to find out, something like every seventh one simply vanished. Asking the stable master had only resulted in him getting his ears boxed, and the gruff man's wife had dismissed his questions by telling him he was still fresh from the country and therefore wasn't capable of understanding.
    As he neared the row of trees, he was surprised to see that someone else was already there. A figure in white, sitting dangerously near the edge of the cliff.
    He almost turned around and returned to town; company was exactly what he didn't want right now. It was peace he was after; peace and quiet.
    Curiosity pulled him forward, however, and when he reached the