The Tyrant's Tomb

Somewhere overhead, an explosion shook the tunnel, which was
excellent motivation to keep moving. After a bit more sweating and gasping,
I realized I could discern a dim square of light ahead of us—an exit covered
in branches.
Meg burst straight through it. I wobbled after her, emerging in a
landscape lit by fire and lightning and ringing with the sounds of chaos.
We had arrived in the middle of the war zone.
I will give you free advice.
If you plan to pop into a battle, the place you do not want to be is in the
middle of it. I recommend the very back, where the general often has a
comfortable tent with hors d’oeuvres and beverages.
But the middle? No. Always bad, especially if you arrive on canaryyellow
glow-in-the-dark bikes.
As soon as Meg and I emerged, we were spotted by a dozen large
humanoids covered in shaggy blond hair. They pointed at us and began to
scream.
Khromandae. Wow. I hadn’t seen any of their kind since Dionysus’s
drunken invasion of India back in the BCE. Their species has gorgeous gray
eyes, but that’s about the only flattering thing I can say about them. Their
dirty, shaggy blond pelts make them look like Muppets who have been used
as dust rags. Their doglike teeth clearly never get a proper flossing. They are
strong, aggressive, and can only communicate in earsplitting shrieks. I once
asked Ares and Aphrodite if the Khromandae were their secret love children
from their longstanding affair, because they were such a perfect mix of the
two Olympians. Ares and Aphrodite did not find that funny.
Meg, like any reasonable child when confronted with a dozen hairy
giants, hopped off her bike, summoned her swords, and charged. I yelped in
alarm and drew my bow. I was low on arrows after playing catch with the
ravens, but I managed to slay six of the Khromandae before Meg reached
them. Despite how exhausted she must’ve been, she handily dispatched the
remaining six with a blur of her golden blades.
I laughed—actually laughed—with satisfaction. It felt so good to be a
decent archer again, and to watch Meg at her swordplay. What a team we
made!
That’s one of the dangers of being in a battle. (Along with getting killed.)
When things are going well, you tend to get tunnel vision. You zero in on