#aatatt

0.4 And What If One of the Gods Does Wreck Me Out on the Wine-Dark Sea? I Have a Heart That Is Inured To Suffering and I Shall Steel It To Endure That, Too

Allie

“Shit, Babe, that looks terrible,” I gasped, as I made my way back over to Luke. The talon slashes on his arm dripped so much blood, it was almost difficult to make out the skin underneath it. 

Panic prickled at the mortal spot on my back as I reached him. His hands were steady as they caught my own trembling ones, but I couldn’t be sure how much of it was him putting up a front for my sake.  

“It’s not as bad as it looks, Angel,” he told me, ducking just a little bit to meet my eyes. “Just a little scratch.” 

My eyes widened. “A little— Babe, are you fucking joking? At a time like this?” 

The corners of his mouth curled, like he was trying to hold back a smile, and I had to hold myself back from attempting to knock some sense into him. “You’re so hot when you yell at me, y’know that?” 

A surge of emotion that I couldn’t quite determine was anger, concern, or a little of both bloomed in my chest. “Oh, you think you’re soooo clever and charming, trying to weasel your way out of this,” I started, but the ire in my voice was cancelled out by how terribly my hands were shaking. “You’re out of your mind, trying to butter me up while you’re literally bleeding out.” 

“Is it buttering you up if it’s true?” Luke gave me that troublemaker smile he’d inherited from his father and it nearly made me melt— would have if I hadn’t been so worried out of my mind. 

“For the love of all the gods, can you please be serious? This looks bad! We have no ambrosia or nectar, the only thing we have around that even minorly heals is a damn river of liquid fire—”

Luke opened his mouth— likely to do something that would set me off, like jokingly singing the chorus to Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash, which would have really made me do something drastic— but was cut off by a very rude Hellhound, snarling at my back and preparing to take us both out. 

“Oh, fuck off! I’m trying to be pissed off at my boyfriend in peace,” I cried, twisting out of Luke’s grip and swinging Shaker with a little bit more force than intended. The Hellhound disintegrated with a pitiful whimper that would tug at my heartstrings later, when I had the capacity to think far more clearly than I was. 

I rounded back on Luke, ready to give him a piece of my mind, but froze at the lovesick grin residing on his face. 

“I like it when you call me that,” he mumbled, voice barely loud enough to hear. 

I raised an eyebrow, dragging him behind a cluster of rocks to hide us from any monsters that may have been in close enough range to see, hear, or smell us. “Are… you not? Did we break up somewhere between drinking fire and now, and you just never told me?” 

“No,” he said simply, “I just like to hear you say it.” 

The dumb grin on his face made every ounce of anger that had been flowing through my veins vanish in seconds. I deflated, trying not to allow too big of a grin to overtake my face. Damn Luke and his irritating, yet endearing way of making my heart melt. 

“You…” I sighed. “C’mere, Babe.” 

I stripped my top off, thankful I’d chosen to change into a sports bra the afternoon everything went to shit. The Prada top was torn to shreds and pieces of it crumbled in my hands when I pulled too hard, but it would have to do. Luke understood my intent almost immediately, holding out his arm for me to wrap around the jagged gashes. 

It was hard to ignore, but I tried to not think about how the empousa’s attack mirrored my own scratches down his other arm. Mine had drawn blood, too, albeit much less. They had made me feel guilty, but I knew Luke didn’t particularly care. If I’d said anything about it, he probably would have told me something along the lines of, “Oh, don’t worry, Angel, you know you’ve done worse to my back before,” and that would have probably made me smack his arm, but I also knew that I’d done it unintentionally. If it was to save his life— to make sure he didn’t fall alone— I would have done it all again. 

I wrapped the pieces around the injury and winced when blood sprouted against the fabric almost immediately. “Drink some more fire,” I ordered him. “And then… We’ll figure out what to do from there.” 

Luke’s expression twisted. “Do I have to?” he asked. “I feel like I’m gonna yak if I swallow any more of that shit.” 

I grimaced. “A little bit,” I said gently. “Just enough to try and slow the bleeding. The injury is bad enough, I don’t know what I would do if you passed out from blood loss.” 

The answer seemed to pass through Luke in waves of understanding. He nodded once stiffly and moved over to the Fire River, allowing me to cup my hands in the flames and help him drink. He gagged and sputtered a few times, but managed to keep the fire down. 

“I don’t think I’m ever going to be able to go back to that Indian place by your apartment, Angel,” he muttered. “Or eat anything spicy ever again in general.” 

I couldn’t help the laugh that swelled in my chest. “How tragic that’s going to be.” I paused. “So… where now?” 

Luke peered over my shoulder at the cloud of darkness in the distance. It was almost certainly where we needed to go, but the idea of heading blindly in seemed idiotic at best and torturously deadly at worst. We had no idea what monsters would be waiting for us there, or if we’d even be able to see what was coming. Visibility was almost certain to be terrible. Danger awaited around every corner no matter what in Tartarus, and though I usually didn’t mind jumping into situations blindly, this was a little too literal for my tastes. 

Luke sighed. “Do we have much of a choice?” 

I grimaced. “I don’t know. I guess not.” I twisted my rings around my fingers, grateful I still had them. “Although…” 

Luke perked up. “Although what?” 

I gazed off into the distance until my eyes caught sight of the ocean-like body of water I’d seen from above entered my line of sight. It was far away, at least an hour of a walk if we weren’t stopped, but it was something. 

“I know the likelihood of there being water in Tartarus is slim-to-none,” I began, “but that ocean-thing we saw is in that direction. And even if it isn’t actual water and is just some… I don’t know, Torture-Demigods Water or something like that, I might still be able to control it. We might be able to get a little bit of rest before we try to brave… whatever is in that cloud.” 

Luke thought about that for a moment before shrugging. “Good an idea as any, I suppose. I definitely don’t have anything better.” He paused. “My leg’s feeling better. Think I should use the super speed to get us there faster?” 

I shook my head. “Definitely not,” I said. “You need to keep your strength up as much as possible, especially if we might need it when we’re ready to keep going. And who knows, if that tear isn’t fully healed, you might make it worse trying to run. We’ll… walk.” 

*** 

The walk was much easier said than done. 

It was slow-going due to how often we had to duck behind rocks and other natural barriers to avoid unnecessary confrontations. The heat and humidity rivaled the Southern summers I’d had to brave while filming some of my earlier Marvel movies and The Walking Dead. I’d taken to continuously re-twisting my hair with the pen in my pocket because it kept falling and sticking to the back of my neck. For a moment, I was beginning to think we’d never make it. 

The sound of water hitting a shore cut through my ire and despair. 

It almost made me sick, how the sound brought me an immediate sense of comfort. It reminded me of the ocean, of the Atlantean Court, of home. I had to swallow hard to keep my tears at bay. 

The waves glittered against the black glass-sand beach. It felt unnaturally calm. 

“Is… Is it water?” Luke finally asked, when I’d gone silent. 

I couldn’t find my voice. I could only shrug as I stepped toward the rolling waves and tugged. 

The water… was certainly not water. I couldn’t be sure what it was, but as the nearest wave responded to my will, I could tell that it was not the ocean that it looked like. Even though I wasn’t touching it, I could tell the viscosity wasn’t the same. It was almost like an oil, silky and a bit thicker than water. And the color was off. The Iliad and the Odyssey had famously called the ocean “wine-dark” but this liquid seemed to be far closer to a modern red than the ocean. I hated to think about it, but the closest comparison I could get to what this ocean felt like was blood. 

I remembered Luke was still waiting on a response. “No,” I was finally able to answer him. “No, it’s definitely not water.” 

“But you can control it?” he asked, then watched as I manipulated a wave into a circle and then let it fall back into its pattern. “Well, that’s a plus, right?” 

I cleared my throat, deciding not to tell him about my suspicions as to what the liquid might be. “Yeah. It’s not too difficult, so at least if we get ambushed by a smaller group, we might not be too out-numbered.” I gave a little half-shrug. “But, I mean, I was able to control the River Lethe to help create Bob the Titan, so what does that mean, really?” 

Luke nodded slowly, but seemed to sense that there was something I was feeling apprehensive about. “Everything alright, Angel?” he asked. 

“Yeah,” I answered. “Yeah, just a little tired. And homesick, probably.”

He didn’t reply verbally, simply pulled me back to his chest and let me bury my face in his shoulder. I felt his hand come up to the back of my head and pull out the pen holding my hair up. He ran his hand over my loose curls for a minute and then shifted, taking my hair in three strands and braiding it from behind, taking care to gently comb through the knots whenever he came across them. When he reached the end, he pulled a black hair tie off of his wrist and tied it off. 

I pulled back and raised an eyebrow. “You’ve had that hair tie on your wrist this entire and you let me tie my hair back with a pen?” 

Luke snorted. “I kind of forgot I had it on me, to be honest,” he said. “But I always have a hair tie on my wrist, in case you need it.” 

The nonchalant way he said it had me burying my face into his shoulder once more. 

I couldn’t be sure how long we stayed like that, letting the ocean waves hit the shore and pretending we were anywhere but where we were. 

A deep rumble from somewhere behind me took me straight out of the illusion. 

Luke whirled us around immediately, gearing up for another fight. Nothing appeared. 

“You heard that, too, right?” he asked, his hand around the pommel of Riptide. “I’m not just losing my mind from being down here too long?” 

I shook my head, eyes scanning the area. “No… No, I heard it, too.” 

The rolling waves continued to hit the short unperturbed. 

“Is it just me, or does it feel like we’re in the middle of a cheesy horror movie scene?” I asked, half-joking, half-dead serious. 

“Now who’s joking in a serious situation?” Luke shot back, though the grin on his face told me he understood the humor in my comment. 

I scoffed. “Oh, please, we don’t even know this is a serious situation,” I replied. “For all we know, we are slowly losing our minds and there’s not even a body of water in front of us.” 

The tension in Luke’s shoulders never eased, and he was still continuously scanning the water and general surrounding area for what might have caused the noise, but nothing popped out. 

A silence settled over us. 

Without realizing it, I’d begun to creep toward the shore. The closer I got, the more I could understand about it. Something in me knew that only two feet in from the shore— where the waves crested, flattened, and then receded— was a drop off so deep, I couldn’t even predict how deep it went. There were certainly things just below the surface, but I couldn’t tell exactly what. 

I kept going until the liquid washed over my shoes. It fell off of my water-resistant skin just like regular water, but it wasn’t cold like the ocean. Just like nearly everything else in Tartarus, the temperature was almost uncomfortably hot. I reached down to touch it, watching the oil-like water replace itself as my fingers ran through it. 

Luke’s voice appeared behind me, much closer than I expected. “Angel—” 

It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to react. 

I had to bite back a scream when a large hand shot out from the dark oil-like water and closed around my wrist. Luke’s grip around my waist was the only thing that kept me from being pulled under, but it hardly put us in a better position. Within seconds, a congregation of cyclopes emerged, obviously having gone through the (what I assumed was) grueling effort of being re-formed and ready to give us their resulting anger and frustration. 

Luke pulled me until we were away from the water and on shore. With no time to think of another plan, I did the only thing I thought could help: I reached for the water and willed it to spiral around the two of us as fast as I could make it go. Not quite a hurricane, but fast enough to keep the cyclopes out of eating range for the time being. 

One tried its luck at punching through. The others learned not to do the same when the first one’s arm was ripped off from the force. 

“Okay,” I muttered, hoping it was loud enough for Luke to hear at my back, above the roaring of the circle of water around us. “Okay, yeah, great. This is great. Perfect, even.” 

Luke let out a startled sort of laugh from behind me. “Oh, yeah, sure,” he replied, and I could detect the underlying panic in his voice. “I’ve never felt better!” 

“I wonder if these are the cyclopes who attacked New Rome,” I pondered, despite the situation. “There’s enough of them to be… from that group.” I paused. “You know, this fucking sucks. It’s like re-run central in here. Are we so unlucky that all of our old enemies got re-formed at the same time? This is ridiculous! I mean, what’s next? I swear to the gods, if I see the damn Minotaur show up again—” 

“Angel, less jinxing us, more figuring out how the hell we’re going to get out of this situation before you pass out from exhaustion.” 

I hated to admit it, but Luke had a point. A great point, even. I had to remember that I wasn’t dealing with regular ocean water, which I could have controlled with ease. That was… something else. Something that took a little more concentration and a lot more energy. 

“So… Do you have an idea?” I asked. “Because, I’ve gotta be honest, I’ve got nothing. I’m exhausted and fresh out of all of the good ones.” 

I couldn’t see his face, but I had a feeling Luke was grimacing behind me. “Think I’m in the same boat with you, Angel.” 

If ever there was a time for a desperation plan, that was it. And as good at thinking of plans on the spot as I typically was, nothing came to mind. Truthfully, the only thing I could even think to suggest was shooting out spikes of water out until I passed out and hopefully took out enough for Luke to have a chance at taking the rest out, but I had a feeling Luke would veto that idea. 

Then a shadow fell across me. A deep war cry bellowed from somewhere above, echoing across the ocean and louder than the crashing of the waves, and a Titan dropped on the other side of my cyclone.

*    *    *

I thought I was hallucinating. It just wasn't possible that a huge silvery figure could drop out of the sky and stomp a cyclops flat, trampling it into a mound of monster dust.

But that's exactly what happened. Through the red mist of the speeding water around Luke and I, I could see the Titan was ten feet tall, with wild silver Einstein hair, pure silver eyes and muscular arms protruding from a ripped-up blue janitor's uniform. In his hand was a massive push broom. His name tag, incredibly, read BOB. I was so shocked, the cyclone fell from around us, the reddish liquid splashing Luke and I and spotting his legs. 

Luke cussed loudly, but the giant janitor wasn't interested in him. He turned to the remaining cyclopses, who looked about as dumbfounded as I felt.

One was foolish enough to attack. It lunged with a shocking amount of speed, but it never stood a chance. A spearhead jutted from the end of Bob's broom. With a single deadly swipe, he cut it to dust. The others were far less interested in attempting the same, and decided to try their luck on smaller opponents: which just so happened to be Luke and I. 

I was able to summon a wave to swallow the one closest to Luke, and was happy to hear two more getting taken out by Bob’s deadly broom. Luke was able to get the jump on one before another lunged at his turned back, and I was barely able to slice it in half before it knocked him down. 

I turned, ready to help the Titan and froze. Where at least fifteen cyclopes had surrounded us, only one remained. The air in my lungs left all at once, the surprise from the Titan’s arrival, mixed with the appreciativeness I would never be able to articulate. 

The last one tried to run. Bob threw his broom like a massive boomerang (was there such a thing as a broomerang?). It sliced through the cyclops and returned to Bob's hand.

"SWEEP!" The Titan grinned with delight and did a victory dance. "Sweep, sweep, sweep!"

I couldn't speak. I couldn't bring myself to believe that something good had actually happened. 

Luke looked just as shocked. "H- how…?" he stammered.

"Allie called me!" the janitor said happily. "Yes, she did. Allie said ‘help’ and ‘Bob’ and here I am!"

Luke swayed a little on his feet. His arm was back to bleeding badly, the injury soaking my shirt-turned-makshift bandage even worse than before. "Called you? She— wait. You're Bob? The Bob?"

The janitor frowned when he noticed Luke's wounds, ignoring his question entirely. "Owie."

Luke flinched as the Titan knelt next to him.

"It's okay," I said, getting a little dizzy. "He's friendly. He… He can heal you. Gods. I can’t believe…"

I remembered when I'd first met Bob. The Titan had healed a bad wound on my shoulder just by touching it. Sure enough, the janitor tapped Luke's forearm and it mended instantly.

Bob chuckled, pleased with himself, then bounded over to me and healed the pounding migraine that started making itself known. The Titan's hands were as surprisingly warm and gentle as I remembered.

"All better!" Bob declared, his eerie silver eyes crinkling with pleasure. "I am Bob, Allie's friend!"

"Uh… yeah," I managed, wanting desperately to find somewhere to sit down and just… stare. For a while. "Thanks for the help, Bob. It's… really good to see you again. I don’t even…"

"Yes!" the janitor agreed. "Bob. That's me. Bob, Bob, Bob." He shuffled around, obviously pleased with his name. "I am helping. I heard my name. Upstairs in Hades's palace, nobody calls for Bob unless there is a mess. Bob, sweep up these bones’. Bob, mop up these tortured souls. Bob, a zombie exploded in the dining room."

Luke gave me a puzzled look, but I had no explanation. When last I saw Bob… Well, it had been when he’d become Bob, and the only thing I could remember was Hades saying he’d find… something to do with him…

"Then I heard my friend call!" The Titan beamed. "Allie said, Bob!"

He held his arms out, as though presenting me to a crowd. It was endearing and almost a little bit sad.

"That's awesome," I said weakly. "Seriously. But how did you—?"

"Oh, time to talk later." Bob's expression turned serious. "We must go before they find you. They are coming. Yes, indeed."

"They?" Luke asked.

I scanned the horizon. I saw no approaching monsters— nothing but the stark grey wasteland slightly off in the distance and the spread of the body of water beside us. Though, I couldn’t deny I wanted to get far from the ocean now that I knew what was residing in it. 

"Yes," Bob agreed. "But Bob knows a way. Come on, friends! We will have fun!"

*    *    *

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0.3 Hell Hath No Fury Like a Woman Who Absolutely Refuses To Die In Tartarus Because How Completely Unfair Would That Be?????

Allie

It was difficult hiding how pissed off I was from Luke. 

It was difficult hiding much of anything about me from Luke, to be honest, but this I knew had to stay buried as far deep as I could get it. 

I could already see the guilt eating him alive. I’d seen it written all over his face since he’d looked up at me when we were hanging over the Pit, and it had never quite faded since. Not when he’d asked me to call upon the Misery River to soften our fall, not when he’d brought me to the Fire River to make sure we didn’t die, not when I took down Arachne and wished I’d savored it a little more, and most certainly not after our fight with a horde of telekhines— monsters I had more trauma with than most. To him, it was his actions that had landed us in the darkest pit of Hell. 

But none of it was his fault. I’d said as much to him, but I wasn’t sure how much of it had gotten through his thick skull. I could feel a spiral of rage traveling up from my stomach, overpowering the fire I’d swallowed earlier. I wasn’t sure how much of it was exacerbated by Tartarus, or if it was all me, but either way it felt equal parts satisfying and off-putting. I’d never felt a rage quite like this before. 

Regardless, I knew I had to swallow it, if not for the simple reason of making sure it didn’t cloud my judgment in a place where I had to be as level-headed as I could get, but also for Luke. I didn’t want him to feel even worse than I already knew he did, and letting my anger get the better of me would only make him feel even more guilty. 

So I schooled my expression. I made sure my footsteps remained soft and that I only clenched my jaw every so often instead of attempting to crush my teeth to dust in my mouth. 

We followed the River Phlegethon, stumbling over the glassy black terrain, jumping crevices and hiding behind rocks whenever the vampire girls slowed in front of us.

It was tricky to stay far enough back to avoid getting spotted but close enough to keep Kelli and her comrades in view through the dark hazy air, but it helped in keeping my mind off of my righteous anger. The heat from the river baked my skin. Every breath was like inhaling sulfur-scented fiberglass. When we needed a drink, the best we could do was sip some refreshing liquid fire.

Yeah, the gods were never going to hear the end of this if we ever made it out.

At the very least, the Fire River seemed to be helping Luke’s ACL heal. His limping had gone from barely being able to put weight on his leg at all to a barely-noticable drag. His various cuts and scrapes had faded. Despite being beat-up, sooty and dressed like a homeless person, he looked just as handsome as ever.

For some reason, the realization sent a jolt through me. I wasn’t sure if it had hit me, very belatedly, that we truly had survived the however-long fall into the Pit (something that I truly hadn’t expected while hanging from that godsforsaken ledge), or if maybe it was just him. Luke had an odd ability to make me feel like I could conquer the world without him actually having to say anything. So what if we were in Tartarus? So what if we stood a slim chance of surviving? I was so glad that we were together, I had the ridiculous urge to smile. 

And, if I was honest, I couldn’t deny that the Fire River had made me feel better, too. Sure, my clothes looked like I’d been in an attempted mauling by a rabid dog (Which… I supposed I technically had), even if the skin underneath remained perfectly intact. And, sure, if I went a little too long without taking another swig of fire, my voice started to sound like I’d spend fifteen hours in my studio without a water break, but that was all fine. We were alive, we had a source of sustenance that would keep us so (even if it was only for us to experience more pain and suffering and even if it was horrifically disgusting). Taking into account… well, everything, Luke and I were doing pretty well. 

Of course, I was definitely still thirsty, hungry, and scared out of my mind (though I wasn't about to tell Luke that), but at the very least, I'd shaken off the hopeless cold of the River Cocytus. That accounted for a lot. 

Still, time was impossible to judge. We trudged along, following the river as it cut through the harsh landscape. Fortunately for us (and Luke’s hurt leg), the empousai weren't exactly speed walkers. They shuffled on their mismatched bronze and donkey legs, hissing and fighting with each other, apparently in no hurry to reach the Doors of Death.

Once, the demons sped up in excitement and swarmed something that looked like a beached carcass on the riverbank. I couldn't tell what it was— a fallen monster? An animal of some kind? Whatever it was, the empousai attacked it with relish.

When the demons moved on, Luke and I reached the spot and found nothing left except a few splintered bones and glistening stains drying in the heat of the river. I had no doubt the empousai would attempt to devour the two of us with the same gusto.

“Well that’s… peachy,” I mumbled. 

I watched a grimace form on his face. “Glad to be down here without the chaos of Daedalus’ workshop and less swords,” he said pessimistically. 

"Come on." I led Luke gently away from the scene. "We don't want to lose them."

As we walked, I thought about the first time I'd fought the empousa Kelli at the superbly extra Steak House/Ice Cream Shop, when me, Rachel, and Tate got trapped in the alleyway right beside it. At the time, it had seemed like a hopeless situation. Now, I'd give anything to have a problem that simple.

At least I'd been in the mortal world then. Here, there was nowhere to run and even fewer places to hide if we could run. 

Gods. That was depressing. Was I seriously beginning to think of the time before the Second Titan War as ‘the good ole days’? That couldn’t be good for my health. At the very least, back then it was no question that Luke and I would always have the other at our side. I always knew I could get through anything so long as he was there. It wasn’t that the sentiment was no longer true now, but over the course of the quest, it seemed like Luke and I were destined to be apart— until, of course, we’d fallen into Tartarus together. 

I kept holding out hope that things would get better for Luke and me, but our lives seemed to be getting more and more dangerous, as if the Three Fates were up there spinning our futures with barbed wire instead of thread just to see how much two demigods could tolerate. 

The joke would be on them, though. I was beginning to tire of being their personal guinea pig. 

After a few more miles, the empousai disappeared over a ridge. When me and Luke caught up, we found ourselves at the edge of another massive cliff. The River Phlegethon spilled over the side in jagged tiers of fiery waterfalls. The demon ladies were picking their way down the cliff, jumping from ledge to ledge like mountain goats.

I swallowed thickly, trying to keep the liquid fire in my stomach down. Even if we reached the bottom of the cliff alive, we didn't have much to look forward to. The landscape below us was a bleak ash-grey plain bristling with black trees, like insect hair. The ground was pocked with blisters. Every once in a while, a bubble would swell and burst, disgorging a monster like a larva from an egg.

Over my years dealing with the Greek world, I’d acquired a strong stomach. Suddenly, though, I wasn’t so confident in it.

All the newly formed monsters were crawling and hobbling in the same direction— towards a bank of black fog that swallowed the horizon like a storm front. The Phlegethon flowed in the same direction until about halfway across the plain, where it met another river of black water— maybe the Cocytus? The two floods combined in a steaming, boiling cataract and flowed on as one towards the black fog. 

If I squinted, I could just barely make out a larger body of water, not connected to either river, that spanned far off into the distance next to the joined rivers. It was difficult to see from so far away, but I could have sworn I could make out the ebb and flow of ocean waves. I had to swallow down the homesickness that rolled through my entire body. 

I forced myself to avert my gaze back to the fog, but the longer I looked into that storm of darkness, the less I wanted to go there. It could be hiding anything— a bottomless pit, an army of monsters, something far worse than I could even imagine. But if the Doors of Death were in that direction it was our only chance to get home. We didn’t particularly have a choice. 

I peered over the edge of the cliff. "Wish we could fly," I muttered. Luke looked dejectedly down at his feet, and I winced. I’d forgotten his shoes had been messed up. “Shit, sorry, Babe.” 

“‘S okay, Angel,” he replied, forcing a small smile on his face for my comfort. "I can’t say they wouldn’t have helped. Though, I'd also settle for a hang glider."

"Maybe not the best idea." I pointed. Above us, dark-winged shapes spiraled in and out of the blood-red clouds.

"Furies, d’you think?" he wondered aloud. 

"Or some other kind of demon," I replied. "I'd assume Tartarus has thousands. Probably even some we haven’t heard of."

"Including the kind that eats hang gliders," he guessed. "Okay, so we climb."

I couldn't see the empousai below us anymore. They'd disappeared behind one of the ridges, but that didn't matter. It was clear where Luke and I needed to go. Like all the maggot monsters crawling over the plains of Tartarus, we should head towards the dark horizon. I was just brimming with enthusiasm for that.

*    *    * 

As we started down the cliff, I concentrated on the challenges at hand: keeping my footing, avoiding rockslides that would alert the empousai to our presence, and of course, making sure me and Luke didn't plummet to our deaths.

About halfway down the precipice, Luke said, "Stop, okay? Just a quick break."

His legs wobbled so badly, I cursed myself for not calling a rest earlier.

We sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. Luke put his arm around me, and we leaned against each other, shaking from exhaustion and trying to hide how winded we both were. 

At least I have Luke, I kept repeating to myself in my head. We would find a way out of Tartarus. We had to. I didn't think much of fates and prophecies, but I did believe in one thing: Luke and I were supposed to be together. We hadn't survived so much just to get killed now. I refused to believe this would be where our story ended. 

"Things could be worse," Luke ventured.

"Yeah?" I didn't see how, but I tried to sound upbeat. I snuggled against him. He smelled of smoke, and if I closed my eyes I could almost imagine we were at the campfire at Camp Half-Blood. 

"We could've fallen into the River Lethe," he said. "Lost all our memories."

I shivered. “Yeah, I could do with a little less amnesia in my life, to be honest,” I replied, voice barely audible. “The Lethe is definitely… not one of my favorites.” 

"What was the Titan's name?" Luke asked me. “You know, the one whose memory you wiped on that quest for Persephone with Thalia and Nico that you told me about?” 

My eyebrows furrowed. "Uh… Iapetus. He said it meant the Impaler or something."

Luke gave a soft laugh as he squeezed my shoulder. "No, Angel, the name you gave him after he lost his memory. Steve?"

"Bob," I said, the memory bringing a smile to my face despite our surroundings.

Luke managed another weak laugh. "Bob the Titan. What a guy."

My lips were so parched, it hurt to smile. I wondered what had happened to Iapetus after we'd left him in Hades's palace… if he was still content being Bob, friendly, happy and clueless. I hoped so, but the Underworld seemed to bring out the worst in everyone— monsters, heroes, gods. I hated imagining how much Tartarus was already changing the two of us for the worst. 

I gazed across the ashen plains. The other Titans were supposed to be in Tartarus— maybe bound in chains, or roaming aimlessly, or hiding in some of those dark crevices. Me and my allies had destroyed the worst Titan, Kronos, but even his remains might have been down there somewhere— a billion angry Titan particles floating through the blood-colored clouds or lurking in that dark fog. I wondered if the pieces of the Titan would be able to sense me near. 

I decided not to think about that. I kissed Luke's cheek. "We should keep moving. You want some more fire to drink?"

"Ugh. I'll pass."

We struggled to our feet. The rest of the cliff looked impossible to descend— nothing more than a crosshatching of tiny ledges— but we kept climbing down.

My body went on autopilot. My fingers cramped. I got shaky from hunger.

I wondered if we would die of starvation, or if the firewater would keep us going. I remembered the punishment of Tantalus, who'd been permanently stuck in a pool of water under a fruit tree but couldn't reach either food or drink.

Jeez, I hadn't thought about Tantalus in years. That asshole had been paroled briefly to serve as director at Camp Half-Blood. If I had to guess, he was probably (hopefully) back in the Fields of Punishment. I would never feel sorry for the cunt, but I could definitely see why he was so hangry all of the time. I could imagine what it would be like, getting hungrier and hungrier for eternity but never being able to eat.

Keep climbing, I told myself.

After what felt like a decade, we reached the bottom. I helped Luke down, and we collapsed on the ground.

Ahead of us stretched miles of wasteland, bubbling with monstrous larvae and big insect-hair trees. To our right, the Phlegethon split into branches that etched the plain, widening into a delta of smoke and fire. To the north, along the main route of the river, the ground was riddled with cave entrances. Here and there, spires of rock jutted up like exclamation points. Farther still was the ocean I’d seen before. 

Under my hand, the soil felt alarmingly warm and smooth. I tried to grab a handful, then realized that, under a thin layer of dirt and debris, the ground was a single vast membrane… like skin. The feeling would have made me puke, except for the fact that the only thing left in my stomach was liquid fire. 

I didn't mention it to Luke, but I had started to feel like something was watching us— something vast and malevolent. I couldn't zero in on it, because the presence was all around us. Watching was the wrong word, too. That implied eyes, and this thing was simply… aware of us. I wasn’t sure how, but something in me told me that I was right. 

The ridges above us now looked less like steps and more like rows of massive teeth. The spires of rock looked like broken ribs. And if the ground was skin… 

I forced those thoughts aside. This place was just freaking me out. That was all. 

Luke finally stood, wiping soot from his face and grimacing only slightly when he put his weight on his bad leg. He gazed towards the darkness on the horizon. "Gods, we're going to be completely exposed, crossing this plain."

About a hundred yards ahead of us, a blister burst on the ground. A monster clawed its way out and I had to clench my teeth to hold back a gasp. A glistening telekhine with slick fur, a seal-like body, and stunted human limbs. It managed to crawl a few yards before something shot out of the nearest cave, so fast that I could only register a dark green reptilian head. The monster snatched the squealing telkhine in its jaws and dragged it into the darkness.

Reborn in Tartarus for two seconds, only to be eaten. I wondered if that telekhine would pop up in some other place in Tartarus, and how long it would take to re-form. I wondered if it was one that Luke and I had killed… however long ago it had been. 

I swallowed down the sour taste of firewater. "Oh, yeah. This is going to be stunning."

Luke helped me to my feet. I took one last look at the cliffs, but there was no shot we’d be able to go back the way we’d come. I would've given a thousand golden drachmas to have Frank Zhang with us— good old Frank, who always seemed to show up when needed and could turn into an eagle or a dragon to fly us across this stupid wasteland.

We started walking, trying to avoid the cave entrances, sticking close to the bank of the river.

We were just skirting one of the spires when a glint of movement caught my eye— something darting between the rocks to our right. A monster following us? Or maybe it was just some random, heading for the Doors of Death.

Suddenly I remembered why we'd started following this route, and I froze in my tracks. "The empousai." I grabbed Luke's arm. "Where are they?"

Luke scanned a three-sixty, his blue eyes bright with alarm. Maybe the demon ladies had been snapped up by that reptile in the cave. If the empousai were still ahead of us, they should've been visible somewhere on the plains.

Unless they were hiding… 

Too late, I drew Shaker. Out of habit, I reached for Riptide, too, and stumbled when I came up empty before remembering that Luke had it. The movement slowed me more than I wished to admit. 

The empousai emerged from the rocks all around us— five of them forming a ring. A perfect trap.

Kelli limped forward on her mismatched legs. Her fiery hair burned across her shoulders like a miniature Phlegethon waterfall. Her tattered outfit was splattered with rusty-brown stains, and I was pretty sure they weren't ketchup. She fixed me with her glowing red eyes and bared her fangs.

"Astraea Jackson," she cooed. "How awesome! I don't even have to return to the mortal world to destroy you!"

*    *    * 

I recalled how dangerous Kelli had been the last time we'd fought in the Labyrinth. Despite those mismatched legs, she could move fast when she wanted to. She'd dodged my sword strikes and would have eaten my face if Luke hadn't stabbed her from behind.

Now she had four friends with her.

"And your friend Luke is with you!" Kelli hissed with laughter. "Oh, yeah, I totally remember him." Kelli touched her own sternum, where the tip of the sword had exited when Luke had stabbed her in the back. "What's the matter, son of Hermes? Lost your own weapon, had to steal a new one? Bummer. I'd use the old one to kill you."

I tried to think. Luke and I stood shoulder to shoulder as we had many times before, ready to fight. But neither of us was in good enough shape for an outnumbered battle. Luke had Riptide, but still had a haphazardly-healed torn ACL and was way more banged up than me. We were hopelessly outnumbered. There was nowhere to run. No help coming.

Briefly, I considered calling for Mrs. O'Leary, my hellhound friend who could shadow-travel. Even if she heard me, could she make it into Tartarus? It was where monsters went when they died. Calling her here might kill her, or turn her back to her natural state as a fierce monster. No, I knew the answer immediately. I couldn't do that to my dog.

So, no help. Fighting was a long shot.

That left Luke's favorite tactics: trickery, talk, delay.

"So…" I started, "I guess you're wondering what we're doing in Tartarus."

Kelli snickered. "Not really. I just want to kill you."

That would've been it, I had no other ideas, no other ace up my sleeve. My talent for improv, honed by years in front of a camera, failed me almost immediately. But, thankfully, Luke chimed in, knowing exactly where to go.

"Too bad," he said, laying a little of his Hermes-given charm in his words. "Because you have no idea what's going on in the mortal world."

The other empousai circled, watching Kelli for a cue to attack, but she only snarled, crouching out of reach of my sword. "We know enough," Kelli snarled. "Gaea has spoken."

"You're heading towards a major defeat." Luke sounded so confident, even I was impressed. He glanced at the other empousai, one by one, then pointed accusingly at Kelli. "This one claims she's leading you to a victory. She's lying. The last time she was in the mortal world, Kelli was in charge of keeping my friend Annabeth Chase and my brother faithful to Kronos. In the end, Annabeth rejected him. She gave her life to expel Kronos. The Titans lost because Kelli failed. Now Kelli wants to lead you to yet another disaster."

The other empousai muttered and shifted uneasily.

"Enough!" Kelli's fingernails grew into long black talons. She glared at Luke as if imagining him sliced into small pieces. "The boy is a Son of Hermes— he lies. So the Titans lost. Fine! That was part of the plan to wake Gaea! Now the Earth Mother and her giants will destroy the mortal world, and we will totally feast on demigods!"

The other vampires gnashed their teeth in a frenzy of excitement. I had been in the middle of a school of sharks when the water was full of blood. That wasn't nearly as scary as empousai ready to feed.

I prepared to attack, but how many could I dispatch before they overwhelmed me? It wouldn't be enough, not if I wanted to keep Luke safe.

"The demigods have united!" Luke yelled. "You'd better think twice before you attack us. Romans and Greeks will fight you together. You don't stand a chance!"

The empousai backed up nervously, hissing, "Romani."

I guessed they'd had experience with the Twelfth Legion before and it hadn't worked out well for them. For the first time, I wished I’d been able to receive the branding of joining the legion. It would have been proof enough. 

Thankfully, my (albeit short) time at Camp Jupiter had honed my Latin skills just enough. “You have no idea the trap you’re walking into,” I announced, and I hoped they couldn’t detect how clunky some of the words sounded as they left my mouth. “The she-demon is the true liar.”

The words alone were enough to frighten the empousai. One fell off the boulder where she'd been perched as the others scrambled backwards. That made me feel good, but they recovered quickly and closed in again.

"Bold talk," Kelli began, her scowl deepening around her tusks, "for two demigods lost in Tartarus. Lower your sword, Astraea Jackson, and I'll kill you quickly. Believe me, foolish girl, there are worse ways to die down here."

"Wait!" Luke tried again. "Aren't empousai the servants of Hecate?"

Kelli curled her lip. "So?"

"So Hecate is on our side now," Luke pointed out. "She has a cabin at Camp Half-Blood. Some of her demigod children are my friends. If you fight us, she'll be angry."

I wanted to hug Luke, he was so brilliant.

One of the other empousai growled. "Is this true, Kelli? Has our mistress made peace with Olympus?"

"Shut up, Serephone!" Kelli screeched. "Gods, you're annoying!"

"I will not cross the Dark Lady."

Luke took the opening. "You'd all be better following Serephone. She's older and wiser."

"Yes!" Serephone shrieked. "Follow me!"

Kelli struck so fast, I didn't have the chance to raise my sword. Fortunately, she didn't attack us. Kelli lashed out at Serephone. For half a second, the two demons were a blur of slashing claws and fangs.

Then it was over. Kelli stood triumphant over a pile of dust. From her claws hung the tattered remains of Serephone's dress.

"Any more issues?" Kelli snapped at her sisters. "Hecate is the goddess of the Mist! Her ways are mysterious. Who knows which side she truly favors? She is also the goddess of the crossroads, and she expects us to make our own choices. I choose the path that will bring us the most demigod blood! I choose Gaea!"

Her friends hissed in approval.

Luke glanced at me, and I saw that he was out of ideas. He'd done what he could. He'd got Kelli to eliminate one of her own. Now there was nothing left but to fight. Four against two. We’d faced worse odds before. 

"For two years I churned in the void," Kelli snarled darkly. "Do you know how completely annoying it is to be vaporized, Luke Castellan? Slowly re-forming, fully conscious, in searing pain for months and years as your body regrows, then finally breaking the crust of this hellish place and clawing your way back to daylight? All because some little boy stabbed you in the back?" Her baleful eyes held Luke's. "I wonder what happens if a demigod is killed in Tartarus. I doubt it's ever happened before. Let's find out."

I sprang, slashing Shaker in a huge arc. I cut one of the demons in half, but Kelli dodged and charged Luke. The other two empousai launched themselves at me. One grabbed my sword arm. Her friend jumped on my back.

I tried to ignore them and staggered towards Luke, determined to go down defending him if I had to, but Luke was doing pretty well. He tumbled to one side, evading Kelli's claws, and came up swinging with Riptide. The she-demon moved quickly enough to miss the blade, but not enough to move out of the way of Luke flinging gravel in her face. She wailed, and twisted ferociously to keep out of the path of his next swings.

Meanwhile, I thrashed from side to side, trying to throw off my empousa hitch-hiker, but her claws kept a good grip on my iron skin. The second empousa held my arm, preventing me from using Shaker.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Kelli lunge, raking her talons across Luke's arm. Luke screamed and fell.

I stumbled in his direction. The vampire on my back tried biting into my neck, but came up toothless. She hissed in defiance and tried dragging me to the ground. 

Stay on your feet, I told myself. You have to beat them.

Then the other vampire jerked my arm, and Shaker clattered to the ground.

That was it. Our luck had finally run out. Kelli loomed over Luke, savoring her moment of triumph. The other two empousai circled me, their mouths slavering, ready to find the one vulnerable spot on my body.

My breath stuttered in my chest. A surge of defiance rose in my chest so quickly, I almost wasn’t sure what to do with it. I focused in on my battle-worn instincts. We wouldn’t go out like this. I refused. 

A tugging at my gut alerted me before I’d even recognized I’d called upon the Misery River a few feet away. It was still difficult— the river fought me with every pull I asked of it, just like it had when I’d needed to soften our fall— but it responded to me nonetheless. 

Before Kelli could make her victory lunge, taking out Luke for good, gallons of straight misery landed on top of her head. I didn’t bother to wait to see how it would affect the empousa. I used the distraction to swing the she-demon holding onto my arm around until she was off-balance enough to loosen her grip around my arm. 

With a well-aimed kick, I sent the empousa flying, her nails raking down my arm, but leaving no scratches. Then, I focused on the demon skill taking up residence on my back. The thing was trying her best to screech curses at me, but with her fangs having been broken against my Iron Skin, the words came out more like a baby’s babbles. 

I dropped to my back without another word, relishing in the shriek of surprise the she-demon released as my body weight fell on top of her. I rolled out of her grip and reached for the nearest hard object: a jagged piece of rock that looked more like a shard of glass than stone. 

The rock made a sickening noise as it struck against the empousa, but I forced myself to ignore it as I lunged for Shaker. The blade was just near enough for me to wrap my hand around. Without another thought, I spun it around and shoved the point of the blade directly into the she-demon’s face. 

I didn’t bother waiting to watch her fade into dust. Instead, I turned back to Kelli. 

The head empousa was dripping wet, trembling from what I couldn’t be sure was rage, the cold, or something else entirely. 

“You will suffer, Astraea Jackson,” she hissed, as she watched me stalk toward her. “Suffer, and I will relish in your pain. I will even ask Gaea to allow me the honor of watching you die. I will have it be slow and agonizing—” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you cunt,” I growled, swinging Shaker around and slicing the she-demon’s head off before I had to listen to her shrieking voice any more. 

Another shriek sounded behind me— too close— and I realized I’d forgotten about the final empousa, who I’d simply shaken off. 

Before I could bring my sword around, Luke was already there, slicing her in half with Riptide. 

“I guess what they say is true, Angel,” he huffed, a wince on his face as he dropped Riptide to clutch at the arm Kelli had clawed at. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

*    *    *

previous | next

0.2 What Happens in Vegas (Or Tartarus), Stays in Vegas (... Or Tartarus)

Luke

For just a moment, I could almost pretend that the sun was shining on the two of us once more. 

The remains of Arachne settled on the obsidian rocks beneath our feet fast, but they reflected off the light emitting from the fire river in just a way that resembled the warm morning rays that I was already beginning to miss. 

"You okay?" Allie’s voice roused me from the staring contest I was having with the back of her head. It was as smooth as it always was (Well, as much as it could be after drinking fire a few moments prior), but I could hear how wired she was underneath the words. Her shoulders were tense as her eyes scoured around the cliffs and boulders, alert for more monsters. But nothing else appeared. 

Riptide's Celestial bronze blade glowed even brighter in the gloom of Tartarus. As it passed through the thick hot air, it made a defiant hiss like a riled snake. I could see the tense, ready-for-battle look in her eyes through her reflection on Riptide. 

"She… she would've killed me," was the only thing I was able to stammer out, my jaw barely able to stay in place. 

She turned toward me, smirking a little at the amazement on my face before it dropped. Allie kicked the dust on the rocks, her expression turned grim and dissatisfied. "She died too easily, considering how much torture she put you through. She deserved much worse."

I couldn't argue with that, but the hard edge in Allie's voice made me feel… I wasn’t sure how it made me feel. If we had been anywhere but in the deepest pits of metaphorical Hell, it probably would have done irreparable damage to my psyche until they were the only words I could hear in our most intimate moments. Given our current circumstances, however, I couldn’t exactly press her up against a wall and—

I had to shake my head to get the image out of it. The point was, the tone of Allie’s voice was something I hadn’t heard from her… in a long time. I wasn’t even sure I had ever heard her voice like that. 

Allie was loyal to a fault, I knew that. I knew she would do absolutely anything in order to get us— me— out of Tartarus, but I also wasn’t sure how that was going to manifest in Tartarus. Her father was often referred to as the Father of Monsters, and there we were— right in what was essentially their dressing room. 

A long time ago, back when Allie was lost after she blew up Mount St. Helens, Poseidon had once told me that, despite some of Allie’s rougher edges, he was certain she’d been born with all of his power, but none of his monstrous pieces. She was the soft, velvet tides, the sunshine after the storm. The parts of him that made people fear the ocean, the ways he proved himself as one of the sons of Kronos… he’d thought his first mortal daughter had been spared those traits. 

At the time, I couldn’t entirely see the fault in his logic. Allie was powerful, yes, but she was also so many things that made people underestimate her— compassionate, patient, empathetic… Hell, she had a reputation for being the most charitable celebrity in all of Hollywood. I knew better than to think she was completely pure, but Allie had hidden the darker parts of herself well. They only surfaced in dire situations. 

Mount St. Helens had changed her, sure, but what the final nail in the coffin had been was her visit to the Styx. Her acquiring the Curse of Achilles had skyrocketed all of her… everything. Her strength, her loyalty, her ruthlessness. Allie had always been closer to the gods than to her mortal side— no matter how much she tried to deny it— but getting Iron Skin… there was only one thing keeping her tethered to the mortal world, and she had confessed that it had been me. And now that we were stuck down in the Greek-world Ninth Circle…

I had a feeling this trip was going to determine just how powerful Allie was if she couldn't keep her demons in check. 

I swallowed thickly. "Baby, that was… How did you move so fast?"

Allie shrugged, like it was nothing, but she seemed to realize my shock would keep her from being able to completely brush it off. "Gotta watch each other's backs, right, Babe?”

“Of course,” I answered immediately. “But…” 

Almost faster than she’d killed Arachne, Allie grabbed the collar of my shirt and pulled me down to her height, pressing my lips to hers, reducing my brain to mush and only able to conjure thoughts about how crazy it was that her lips were still as smooth as they always had been despite the poisoned Tartarus air. I’d realized (after an embarrassingly long time) later that she’d done this very intentionally, in order to keep me from talking about how well she’d taken down the monster that had terrorized me. An Allie Jackson classic of never talking about just how powerful she was until she couldn’t deny it anymore. 

She didn’t stray too far when she finally separated from me, to my satisfaction. I was gearing up to pull her back in when she cleared her throat and settled back flat on her feet. 

“So…” she started. “I know they’re both going to be uneven for you, but which one?” 

Still a little dazed from our kiss, all I could conjure up was, “Um… What?” 

Allie looked amused as she pulled Shaker off of her wrist and summoned the sword. The steel glimmered in the haze just as the bronze of Riptide did. “I’m sorry to remind you, but, Babe, you have no sword,” she said, and her voice was much gentler than I expected it to be. “I don’t mind being our brawn, but I also don’t think you want to be walking around Tartarus weaponless. Lucky for us, I just so happen to wield two swords. So… Which one?” 

I tried not to stare at her too crazily, but the suggestion had caught me totally off guard. Not that it was shocking in the sense that it came out of nowhere— I could see the logic in it all: I had no sword, Allie had two. It only made sense for us both to have one. But for some reason, my brain couldn’t wrap itself around the concept. 

Save for the first few weeks Allie was at Camp, she’d always used two swords— ever since Chiron had passed them to her as gifts from her father right before we’d left on our first-ever quest together. It was her staple, how she trained, how she was used to fighting. It had sometimes caused problems earlier on, since wielding two swords meant she couldn’t utilize a shield, but over the years, she’d become a fighting machine with them. To see her without one of them, even if it meant I was armed, felt… odd. 

And I couldn’t deny the intimacy in the offer. Allie’s swords were practically extensions of her own arms. Every master swordfighter felt that way about their weapons— I could feel the phantom weight of my own sword, even though I knew it was gone forever— and my girlfriend being so ready to give part of herself away like that almost felt more insane than when she’d handed her heart over for me to keep safe. 

“Won’t you feel lopsided, though?” I asked dumbly. 

The blinding smile she gave me made my knees weak. “Only a little,” she replied. “But I’ll be fine. I don’t want you without a weapon if we can help it.” Then, reading between the lines of what was sure to be a very skeptical look on my face, she continued, “Babe, seriously. Here, take Riptide. It’s a bit more weighted than Shaker is, so it might not throw you off as much.” 

I opened my mouth to argue, but Allie was not to be deterred. She grabbed my wrist and practically shoved the bronze sword into my hand. 

She was right, the length was off and the weight was softer than what I typically looked for in a sword, but it would have to do. I couldn’t deny just having a weapon made me feel minutely better. 

“If you’re sure,” I finally mumbled. “Thank you, Angel.” 

Allie nodded and spun Shaker in a circle to get a better grip on the handle. “Anything to get us out of here,” she said. “Speaking of… Should we, you know… Talk about this?” 

I furrowed my brows. “Talk about what?” 

She bit her lip, suddenly very interested in the fire water next to us. “I don’t want this to be… I don’t want to get…” She huffed, irritated at being unable to find the words. “We both know where we are, what this is. We both… we both know that this is going to be nearly impossible, if not outright so.” 

Despite knowing it was the truth, I was shocked Allie had admitted that so readily. I swallowed, the poisoned air making it difficult. “I know.” 

Allie suddenly shot her eyes up to my face and reached out to grab my shoulder with her free hand. “I’m not saying this to lower team morale,” she told me, her voice deadly serious. “I’m saying this because that means… It means we are going to have to do whatever it takes to make it out of here. Whatever it takes.” 

The tone in her voice had taken on another that I’d never heard from her before. I wondered how much of it was the fear she never let show talking. 

“I know, Angel,” I replied, reaching out and pulling her to my chest. My next words came out muffled against the top of her head. “Gods, Angel, I know. You know I’ll do anything to get you out of here. It’s my fault—” 

Allie jolted, and pushed against me until she could look me in the eyes, her glare fierce. “That’s not what I meant,” she snarled, her voice threatening. 

My eyebrows furrowed again. “But—” 

“It is not your fault that we are down here, Luke,” she stated sternly, and I couldn’t help but jump at her use of my name. “It’s Gaea’s, and Arachne’s, and the fucking gods’—” She cut herself off, sighing through her nose before she could finish the sacreligious thought. Not that I disagreed, but still. “We are just being played as pawns, just like usual. But I don’t want to be sacrificed anymore, you know? If we’re going to make it out of here, we just might have to…” 

“Make some pawns of our own?” I supplied. 

Allie cringed. “I don’t want to,” she said quickly. “But if it’s between that or being stuck down here forever…” She sighed again and ran a hand through her loose curls. The look in her eyes hardened. “It’s what I said before. That no matter what, we do whatever it takes to make it out of here. No matter how terrifying, or dark, or twisted, we do whatever we can to get to those doors and get the fuck out of here.”

I was stunned into another silence. For just a moment, I was startled by the look on her face. If it were up to her and not a primordial being and a horde of monsters, she probably could have clawed her way back up to where we’d fallen from. 

But I could feel what I assumed she was… unimaginable rage and terror that were mixing terribly in my psyche. “Of course, Angel. Whatever it takes to end this bullshit.”

“And if we have to keep some of the things we do down here a secret,” she continued, “then that’s just what we’ll have to do. Vegas rules.” 

“Tartarus rules,” I corrected, and it felt like some of the weight on my shoulders eased whenever she laughed. 

The hardness on her face had finally smoothed and she was looking more like her usual, beautiful self. “So long as we’re on the same page, we’ll be fine,” she said, and that gentle lilt to her voice was back, too. "Anyways… Before you got rudely interrupted, you were saying we should head downstream?"

Allie walked past me, swinging Shaker in a circle as I nodded, looking back at the river of fire. The remnant yellow dust from Arachne dissipated on the rocky shore, turning to steam. At least now we knew that monsters could be killed in Tartarus… though I had no idea how long Arachne would remain dead. I didn't plan on staying long enough to find out.

"Yeah, downstream," I managed. "If the river comes from the upper levels of the Underworld, it should flow deeper into Tartarus—"

"So it leads into more dangerous territory," she finished, humming like this was going to be a walk in the park. "Which is probably where the Doors are. Lucky us."

*    *    *

It felt like the Telekhines came out of nowhere. 

We had plodded along, half in a stupor, trying to form a plan. It was hard. The fiery water of the Phlegethon may have healed us and given us strength, but it hadn't done anything for our hunger or thirst. The river wasn't about making you feel good. It just kept you going so you could experience more excruciating pain. 

I had only stopped for two seconds to re-tie the laces of my shoe (trying not to cringe at how badly my knee ached at the action) when I heard the sound of Allie crying out and the following sound of her body hitting the ground. 

If the sound hadn’t terrified me as much as it did, I might’ve given her a hard time for (I was certain) keeping her own back undefended in order to protect mine. 

“Allie!” I cried, stumbling as I tried to get to my feet. 

Unfortunately, like an idiot, I seemed to have forgotten that I’d torn my ACL, so when I lunged toward Allie to help her, my leg entirely buckled underneath my body weight. 

The Telekhines swarmed us immediately. I couldn’t tell how many there were— it couldn’t have been anything less than fifteen— but the crowd was so thick around that I lost sight of Allie through the mass of them. Two jumped at me before I could fully get my bearings and I nearly lost Riptide in the shock. 

I tried not to lose myself in the chaos. A notable trait of demigods was the fact that our ADHD in regular life translated to slowing things down whenever faced with the evils of the Greek world. Even still, I had to force myself to think around the pain in my leg in order to fight. 

Riptide being so light in my hand actually worked to my advantage at first. I might have been bound to the ground, but the celestial bronze blade could deal a killing blow even if it wasn’t a direct headshot. I sliced off the legs of the two nearest to me and used the momentum from swinging a bit too hard to push myself to my good knee. 

More swarmed me, but I was ready this time. I realized very quickly why Allie was so fond of Riptide. The blade, though it wasn’t made for me, seemed to know exactly where to go, even if I felt like I wasn’t being as precise as I usually was. Or maybe it didn’t even matter. Contact seemed to destroy the Telekhines either way. 

Three more were cut down, and finally it seemed like the crowd was thinning. The roaring in my ears seemed to be dulling into more of a background static, and I could hear what they were saying in their snarling, whining voices. 

“Curse the Daughter of Poseidon!” one cried. “We will kill her this time!” 

“Fire will work eventually,” another seethed. “It will make her blood burn!” 

I cut the third in half before it could lay another curse upon the shoulders of my girlfriend. The gods only knew how many already laid there. The two that had spoken turned toward me, but I was already gearing up for another swing. 

The comments reminded me of the last time we’d faced these monsters alone, though. The heat of Tartarus even reminded me of the time— the heart of Mount St. Helens was comparable. The Labyrinth was never a nice quest to remember, but that was a particularly terrible memory. The knowledge that Allie had made the volcano erupt and had gone missing in action for two whole weeks afterward had almost driven me to the brink of insanity. 

It was a wonder I’d survived the six months without her. 

“Luke!” I heard Allie’s voice cry. 

The dust from the disintegrated telekhines blinded me for a moment. I could feel a presence behind me, but before I could get my bearings, I heard Allie spit out a curse and the sound of a sword hitting a target a millimeter from my face. 

I blinked the dust away from my eyes and spun on my knee, only to see the teeth of a telekhine crumble to dust right in front of my face. If Allie hadn’t thrown Shaker, the monster would have been completely open to sink its fangs into my neck like some rabid vampire. I tried not to let the close call affect me. Allie would be defenseless, I’d need to get the rest of the monsters slain on my own. 

When Allie spat out another curse, I scooped up Shaker and forced myself to ignore the pain in my knee as I got to my feet. There were only about six of the dog-like monsters left— three turning their attention toward me as the others tried scratching and biting to find the vulnerable spot on Allie. She was doing a good job keeping her back safe by kicking her feet and shoving the monsters away, but I wanted to hurry. No use in giving them even more attempts at killing her. 

I grit my teeth and lunged. With two swords, I was able to take more of the telekhines down much faster. I stabbed two in the stomachs as they lunged at me and used the momentum to slice through the third. I huffed, then turned toward the remaining three. 

Allie had managed to get the upper-hand on one, a rock in her hand as she bashed its skull in. The other two barely had time to turn before they’d become dust. 

Silence rang in my ears. Just below that, I could hear the sound of Allie’s breathing, quick and slightly panicked, as she dropped the rock in her hand. 

“Gods,” I mumbled, collapsing back to my knees beside her. “Gods, Angel, are you alright?” 

Even though I knew she couldn’t be hurt, I still grabbed her arms and pulled her close. As expected, her arms remained unblemished— not a single scratch or bruise— but her hands were trembling so violently that I felt it as I held her. 

“Yeah,” she replied, her voice shaking almost as badly as her hands. “Are you? Shit, Luke, you were on the ground and…” She swallowed. “That telekhine got so close…” 

If I concentrated, I could almost feel the phantom presence of the monster right beside my head. “I’m fine, too, Angel,” I told her, pulling her to my chest. “I’m okay, you got it in time.” 

She shivered and I pulled her to my chest to comfort her. She let herself rest there for a moment before she straightened— enough to look at my face, but not so far that she left my hold. 

“What about your knee?” she asked, her eyes big and worried. “I couldn’t really see you fight, but I know when that telekhine almost got you, you were on your good knee.” 

I pursed my lips. “‘s fine, Baby,” I reassured her, but because I couldn’t lie to her, I continued, “It hurts, but it’s not debilitating.” 

Allie looked unconvinced, but nodded all the same. “If you’re sure,” she mumbled. “I’d love to be able to sit and rest, but… I don’t want to stay around here. Think you can walk a bit?” 

I wasn’t fully sure, but I still nodded. “‘Course, Angel,” I answered. “Let’s get as far as we can and then we… we can try to find somewhere…” 

I couldn’t say ‘somewhere safe’, mostly because I wasn’t sure there was such a place in Tartarus, but I could tell Allie knew what I meant. She squared her shoulders and pushed herself to her feet, then helped me do the same. 

When we were steadied and supporting each other, she sighed. “Well… inward and onward, I suppose.” 

*** 

Because it seemed that there was no concept of peace in Tartarus, we'd only travelled another few hundred yards before I heard voices.

They seemed fairly distant, but getting closer. With every second that passed, I could hear more of the argument that seemed to be brewing between whichever monsters were headed our way. 

I whispered, "Angel, down!"

She responded immediately, leading us behind the nearest boulder, wedging myself so close against the riverbank that my shoes almost touched the river's fire. On the other side, on the narrow path between the river and the cliffs, voices snarled, getting louder as they approached from upstream.

I tried to steady my breathing. The voices sounded vaguely human, but that meant nothing. I was going to assume anything in Tartarus was our enemy. I didn't know how the monsters could have failed to spot us already. Besides, monsters could smell demigods— especially powerful ones like Allie, the first mortal daughter of Poseidon. Monsters outside of Tartarus probably could smell her. I doubted that hiding behind a boulder would do any good when the monsters caught our scent.

Still, as the monsters got nearer, their voices didn't change in tone. Their uneven footsteps— scrap, clump, scrap, clump— didn't seem to be getting any faster in anticipation of an easy meal.

"Soon?" one of them asked in a raspy voice, as if she'd been gargling in the Phlegethon.

"Oh my gods!" said another voice. This one sounded much younger and much more human, like a teenaged mortal girl getting exasperated with her friends at the mall. For some reason, she sounded familiar to me. "You guys are so annoying! I told you, it's like three days from here."

Allie’s hand shot out and gripped my wrist. She looked at me with alarm, as if she recognized the mall girl's voice, too.

There was a chorus of growling and grumbling. The creatures— maybe half a dozen, if I was right about the amount of footsteps I could hear— had paused just on the other side of the boulder, but still they gave no indication that they'd caught our scent. I wondered if demigods didn't smell the same in Tartarus, or if the other scents here were so powerful they masked a demigod's aura.

"I wonder," said a third voice, gravelly and ancient like the first, "if perhaps you do not know the way, young one."

"Oh, shut your fang hole, Serephone," said the mall girl. "When's the last time you escaped to the mortal world? I was there a couple of years ago. I know the way! Besides, I understand what we're facing up there. You don't have a clue!"

"The Earth Mother did not make you boss!" shrieked a fourth voice. 

More hissing, scuffling and feral moans— like giant alley cats fighting. At last the one called Serephone yelled, "Enough!"

The scuffling died down.

"We will follow for now," Serephone said coldly. "But if you do not lead us well, if we find you have lied about the summons of Gaia—"

"I am not lying!" snapped the mall girl. "Believe me, I've got good reason to get into this battle. I have some enemies to devour, and you'll feast on the blood of heroes. Just leave one special morsel for me— the one named Astraea Jackson. Poseidon's princess."

I fought down a snarl of my own. I forgot about my fear. I wanted to jump over the boulder and slash the monsters to dust with Allie's sword, but the rational part of my brain decided that wouldn't be the best idea. I still had no idea where I recognized her voice from, but given her ire toward Allie, I could guess we’d met before. 

"Believe me," continued the mall girl. "Gaea has called us, and we're going to have so much fun. Before this war is over, mortals and demigods will tremble at the sound of my name— Kelli!"

I almost yelped aloud. I glanced at Allie. Even in the red light of the Phlegethon, her face seemed to darken.

Empousai, she mouthed toward me. The Labyrinth. Daedalus’ workshop. 

I remembered Kelli. Two years ago, outside an expensive Steakhouse-Ice Cream Shop in Manhattan, she and our friend Rachel and her late brother Tate Dare had been attacked by empousai disguised as cheerleaders. One of them had been Kelli. Later, the same empousa had attacked us in Daedalus's workshop. I had stabbed her in the back and sent her… here. To Tartarus.

The creatures shuffled off, their voices getting fainter. I crept to the edge of the boulder and risked a glimpse. Sure enough, five women staggered along on mismatched legs— mechanical bronze on the left, shaggy and cloven-hooved on the right. Their hair was made of fire, their skin as white as bone. Most of them wore tattered Ancient Greek dresses, except for the one in the lead, Kelli, who wore a burnt and torn blouse with a short skirt.

I gritted my teeth. I had faced a lot of bad monsters over the years, but I hated empousai more than most.

Kelli had almost killed Allie. She had manipulated my oldest friend, Annabeth and my brother, Cody, urging them to commit darker and darker deeds in the name of Kronos. 

Allie laid her leg over my lap, keeping me in place. "Don't go swing-happy, or I'll take your sword privileges away," she whispered with a smirk. She rose. "They're heading for the Doors of Death. You know what that means?"

I didn't want to think about it, but sadly this squad of flesh-eating horror-show women might be the closest thing to good luck we were going to get in Tartarus.

"Yeah," I muttered, as she pulled me up. "We need to follow them."

*    *    *

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0.1 We Drink Fire [REAL] [NOT CLICKBAIT] [DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME]

Luke

Nine days. 

As we fell, I thought about Hesiod, the old Greek poet who'd speculated it would take nine days to fall from earth to Tartarus.

I’d never particularly cared for the classics more than I had to— sometimes they helped with defeating monsters, sometimes they just gave me a deep-seated depressive episode. Chiron made sure all of the demigods that he trained left Camp with an unnatural amount of knowledge on every story our Greek forefathers had left for us, which was nice when I needed a way to kill something coming after me, but was terrible when I was freefalling into Tartarus with no plan on how to survive the impact. 

I hoped Hesiod was wrong. It was impossible to keep track of how long Allie and I fell. The screams for help from Nico and Hazel had long since faded… hours ago? A day? Would we ever reach the bottom, or would we just keep free-falling until we died of dehydration? It had already felt like an eternity. 

Allie’s nails still dug into my wrist. I wondered if she even realized, or if she was too worried about being separated to let go. I didn’t mind either way. 

There was one time, a few weeks after her twentieth birthday, that Allie had taken me, Silena, Katie, Clarrise, Chris, the Stolls, and Danny to Hawaii to go skydiving. She hadn’t cared about Zeus having a conniption at her being in his domain (“Babe, after everything I’ve done, if I even feel the slightest bit of turbulence on my next flight, I’m rioting.”), and somehow we’d made it through the entire trip without an incident. At the time, it had been incredible. Allie had rented out the entire place for the last three hours of their time open, so we got to go up and jump as many times as we wanted. The sight of the sunset had been incredible, but the ease on Allie’s face had been even better. 

I’d actually enjoyed skydiving quite a lot. It got my pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with monsters or Titans or vengeful goddesses. Falling into the chasm was nothing like that. 

Now, I could only pull Allie close, hugging her tight as we tumbled through absolute darkness. She wrapped her legs as tightly as she could around my waist and nestled her head into my neck, still sobbing. In all of the time that I’d known her, I’d never seen her cry so uncontrollably, much less because of me. The sight of her grief only made the size of my regret grow. 

Wind whistled in my ears. The air grew hotter and damper, as if we were plummeting into the throat of a massive dragon. My recently torn ACL made my knee throb, though I couldn't tell if my foot was still wrapped in spiderwebs.

That damned monster Arachne. Despite having been trapped in her own webbing, smashed by a car and plunged into Tartarus, the spider lady had gotten her revenge. Somehow her silk had entangled my leg and dragged me over the side of the pit, with Allie an unwilling and undeserving participant in tow.

I couldn't imagine that Arachne was still alive, somewhere below us in the darkness. I didn't want to meet that monster again when we reached the bottom. On the bright side, assuming there was a bottom, we would probably be flattened on impact, so giant spiders were the least of our worries.

There was also the question of Allie’s Curse of Achilles. So long as she didn’t land on her mortal point on her back, would she survive? I couldn’t see how, given how large of a fall it would be, but the Greek World and all of its quirks had surprised me before. If that was the case, I’d be alright dying, so long as she could make it out alive. She could move on, but I wouldn’t ever be able to forgive myself if she died because of me. Not that I would have too long to think about it once we hit the ground, again assuming there was a ground, but still. 

I wrapped my arms around Allie and tried not to sob with her. I'd never expected my life to be easy. Most demigods died young at the hands of terrible monsters. That was the way it had been since ancient times. The Greeks invented tragedy. They knew the greatest heroes didn't get happy endings. Allie and I had been nothing but the same. The very moment I started to believe we might be able to beat our heritage, might be able to do what all those old, Greek heroes hadn’t… Well, that had been just before Allie had been kidnapped by Hera and forced us into a second Great Prophecy. 

Still, this… This wasn't fair. The past few months had been nothing short of psychological torture. Dealing with Allie’s disappearance, finding out that even if I did find her, she might not have her memory, getting chased out of the Camp that had taken her in immediately after finding her, and everything I’d done and gone through to retrieve that statue of Athena… It was all too much. And just when Malcolm and I'd succeeded, when things had been looking up and I'd been once again reunited with Allie, we had plunged to our deaths.

Even the gods couldn't devise a fate so twisted.

But Gaea wasn't like other gods. The Earth Mother was older, more vicious, more bloodthirsty. I could imagine her laughing as we fell into the depths.

The thought sent a flare of rage through my soul. Everything we’d gone through, just to die like this? All of the monsters we’d faced, not one of them would get the pleasure of the kill— just the ground. In all honesty, I couldn’t help but think, just a little petulantly, that we deserved better. Our story— crazy, chaotic, impossible as it was— and something as mundane as blunt force trauma from a fall would end it.  

There was something I knew I had to do before we made it to the bottom, though. I pressed my lips to Allie's ear. "I love you, Angel. More than anything in this life and the next."

I wasn't sure she could hear me, or if she would even process it through her tears, but if we were going to die, I wanted those to be my last words. If this was where our story ended, it would be on our terms. 

Still, Allie was always more perceptive than anyone ever gave her credit for. She reached up, fighting the wind resistance around us, and laced her hand into my hair. She still had her face buried in my neck, but I could just hear her melodic voice mumble brokenly back at me, "I love you, too.” 

I tried desperately to think of a plan to save us, but I couldn't think of any way to reverse or even slow our fall. My shoes were battered far too much to hold my own body weight, much less the both of ours. Without any water, Allie couldn’t soften our fall. 

Neither of us had the power to fly— not like Jason, or Frank, who could turn into a winged animal. If we reached the bottom at terminal velocity… Well, I knew enough science to know it would be— well— terminal.

I was seriously wondering whether we could fashion a parachute out of our shirts— that's how desperate I was— when something about our surroundings changed. The darkness took on a grey-red tinge. I realized I could see Allie's silky white curls billowing in the wind as she hugged me. The whistling in my ears turned into more of a roar. The air became intolerably hot, permeated with a smell like rotten eggs, but a million times worse.

Suddenly, the chute we'd been falling through opened into a vast cavern. Maybe a mile below us, I could see the bottom. For a moment I was too stunned to think properly. The entire island of Manhattan could have fit inside this cavern— and I couldn't even see its full extent.

Red clouds hung in the air like vaporized blood. The landscape— at least what I could see of it— was rocky black plains, punctuated by jagged mountains and fiery chasms. To my left, the ground dropped away in a series of cliffs, like colossal steps leading deeper into the abyss.

The stench of sulphur made it hard to concentrate, but I focused on the ground directly below us and saw a ribbon of glittering black liquid. My heart skipped a beat. A river. I hated to make her do it but…

Gods, we might actually survive this fall. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not. 

"Allie!" I yelled in her ear, and her head perked up at the hope in my voice. "Water!"

I guided her head toward the quickly-approaching ground. Her face was hard to read in the dim red light. Tears still streamed down her face in uneven streaks. Her lips were full and red, and her pretty sea green eyes were watery. It wasn’t the time, but she looked stunning, even when she was more upset than I’d ever seen her. 

Aside from that, through the shell-shock and terror, she nodded as if she understood what I was trying to tell her.

Allie could control water— all kinds of water, across different states of matter and all. Assuming that was water below us, she might be able to cushion our fall… somehow.

She gripped my hair tightly and pressed my head into the gap between her neck and shoulder, so close to her face that I could feel her jaw clench as she tried to concentrate. I wondered if she was thinking the same things I was— the same terrible stories about the rivers of the Underworld. They could take away your memories, or burn your body and soul to ashes. 

But I decided not to think about that. This was our only chance.

The river hurtled towards us. For just a moment, I was afraid her control didn’t extend as far as we needed it to. 

At the last second, Allie yelled defiantly— a blood-curdling, heart-stopping scream that summoned goosebumps all across my body. Just before we hit the ground, the water erupted in a massive geyser and swallowed us whole.

*    *    * 

The impact didn't kill me, but the cold nearly did.

Freezing water shocked the air right out of my lungs. My limbs turned rigid, and I lost my grip on Allie. I began to sink. Strange wailing sounds filled my ears— millions of heartbroken voices, as if the river were made of distilled sadness. The voices were worse than the cold. They weighed me down and made me numb.

What's the point of struggling? they told me. You're dead anyway. You'll never leave this place. She’ll never leave this place. 

I could sink to the bottom and drown, let the river carry my body away. That would be easier.

I could just close my eyes…

Allie’s nails found my wrist and dug in once more, and it jolted me back to reality. I couldn't see her in the murky water, but just her presence was enough to remind me why we couldn’t give up. I felt the force of her kicks bringing us to the surface, and helped her as much as I could. Despite our years together, I still wasn’t the strongest swimmer. Together we kicked upward and broke the surface.

I gasped and immediately choked on the sulphurous air. Even still, the feeling of air rather than water was a relief. The water swirled around us, and I realized Allie— despite having just used up so much of her energy to soften our fall— was creating a whirlpool to buoy us up.

Though I still couldn't quite make out our surroundings in the haze, I knew this was a river. Rivers had shores.

"Land," I croaked, my voice shredded. My hair stuck to my forehead and neck uncomfortably. "Go sideways, Baby."

Allie looked near dead with exhaustion. Usually, water reinvigorated her, made her stronger, but not this water. Controlling it must have taken every bit of power in her body, much of which had already been sapped from keeping the both of us from falling for so long. I felt guilty for making her. The whirlpool began to weaken, then began to dissipate altogether. I hooked one arm around her waist and struggled across the current. The river worked against me: not just the swift current, but thousands of weeping voices whispering in my ears, getting inside my brain.

Life is nothing but despair, they said. Everything is pointless, and then you die. You have been the death of her.

"Pointless," Allie murmured, her eyes half closed. Her teeth chattered from the frigid water. Her legs, which had been weakly kicking to help push us along, stopped. Only my arm around her kept her head from going under. 

Slowly, the river began to affect her like it would a normal person. Typically, Allie was essentially water-proof to anything she touched while in any form of water unless she forced herself to be otherwise. When her clothes turned wet beneath my hand and her hair straightened from the weight of the water, I knew I had a limited amount of time to get her out of the river before things turned even more desperate than they already were. 

Panic seized my chest. "Angel! The river is messing with your mind. It's the Cocytus— the River of Lamentation. It's made of pure misery!'

Listlessly, she nodded her head in agreement. "Misery," she whimpered.

"Fight it, Baby!"

I kicked and struggled, keeping my fist tightly wrapped around Allie’s shirt trying to keep both of us afloat. Another cosmic joke for Gaea to laugh at: I die trying to keep my girlfriend, the first mortal daughter of Poseidon, from drowning. 

Not going to happen, you hag, I thought scornfully. Fuck you. 

I hugged Allie tighter to my chest and kissed her. Her lips were cold, but as soft as ever. "Come on, Baby," I demanded. "We’re gonna get out of this, just like always. Tell me… Tell me about anything. What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

She made a noncommittal sound, but her eyelashes fluttered at the sound of me calling her ‘baby’, so I knew I was getting through to her. 

I was desperate for a straw to grasp. “Have you thought anymore about going back to school?” 

I was certain she hadn’t, but I remembered Allie had been considering getting a masters in film so she could try her hand at directing, back before she’d gotten taken by Hera. It had sort of been a throw away thought, I’d known that even then, but I wondered if she even remembered toying with the idea since waking up. 

Her eyebrows furrowed, then her nose scrunching followed. “Going back… to school?” 

I smiled in spite of myself at the confusion in her voice. “Yeah, didn’t you consider going back so you could direct a movie based off of one of your mom’s old notebook-stories?” 

A smile spread across her face, and it felt like a weight lifted off of my shoulders. “Oh, yeah… Mom’s old stories are too good to leave in notebooks…” 

As her eyes began to slowly clear, I started making progress against the current. My limbs felt like bags of wet sand, but Allie was helping me now. I could see the dark line of the shore about a stone's throw away.

"College," I gasped. "Think I’d get in anywhere?"

I wasn’t sure if she noticed, but her teeth were still chattering. “D- depends,” she replied. “Do you even have a high school diploma?” 

“‘Course,” I replied, then grunted when a rough current hit my back. We were so close. “Chiron signed up Camp to be accredited. Although, I’d probably have to go take the SAT or something somewhere, right? But at that point, I think it might just be easier to use the Mist on the people comparing applications.” 

Allie snorted. “Until the office of admissions is a bunch of Athena kids who wouldn’t be fooled.” 

I laughed, and the sound sent a shock wave through the water. The wailing faded to background noise. I wondered if anyone had ever laughed in Tartarus before— just a pure, simple laugh of pleasure. I doubted it. 

I used the last of my strength to reach the riverbank, where I could finally touch the ground. My feet dug into the sandy bottom. We hauled ourselves ashore, shivering and gasping, and collapsed on the dark sand.

I wanted to curl up next to Allie and go to sleep. I wanted to shut my eyes, hope all of this was just a bad dream and wake up to find myself back on the Argo II, safe with our friends (well… as safe as a demigod can ever be).

But, no. We were really in Tartarus. At our feet, the River Cocytus roared past, a flood of liquid wretchedness. The sulphurous air stung my lungs and prickled my skin. When I looked at my arms, I saw they were already covered with an angry rash. I tried to sit up and gasped in pain.

The beach wasn't sand, because of course it wouldn’t be. We were sitting on a field of jagged black-glass chips, some of which were now embedded in my palms. Allie laid there on her stomach and forearms, unaware of it. 

So the air was acid. The water was misery. The ground was broken glass. Everything here was designed to hurt and kill. I took a rattling breath and wondered if the voices in the Cocytus were right. Maybe fighting for survival was pointless. Forget making it to the doors, we would be dead within the hour.

Next to me, Allie coughed then rested her forehead on the jagged glass. "This place smells like my fucking ex-stepfather."

I tried not to grimace too deeply. I'd never met Asshole Gabe, but I'd heard enough stories and seen all there was to see of Allie Jackson. The scars spoke far more than she’d ever be able (or even want) to.

If I'd fallen into Tartarus by myself, I would have been doomed. After all I'd been through beneath Rome, finding the Athena Parthenos, this was simply too much. I would've curled up and stared at the ground until I became another ghost, melting into the Cocytus. Or, you know, just died from the fall. 

But I wasn't alone. I had Allie. And that meant I couldn't give up. I refused to let the both of us die down there when she’d already sacrificed so much, even accepted that she might die from the fall, just so I wouldn’t go alone. 

The reminder sent a wave of ice down my spine. Allie had made Nico di Angelo promise to bring the rest of the seven to the other side of the Doors of Death, but the look in her eyes… 

Without another thought, and ignoring the small stabs of pain from still laying on the ground, I reached over and tangled my hand into her still-damp white curls and used the leverage to bring her mouth to mine. She responded immediately, but pulled back slightly when she felt me wince from a deeper cut. 

“Are you okay?” she asked, her expression concerned. 

I nodded and pressed another hard kiss to her mouth. “Thank you,” I mumbled against her lips. 

She didn’t respond, but I knew when I pulled away that she knew exactly what I was thanking her for. 

I swallowed then let go of her hair and forced myself to take stock. My leg was still wrapped in its makeshift cast of board and bubble wrap, still tangled in cobwebs. But when I moved it, it didn't hurt. The ambrosia I'd eaten in the tunnels under Rome must have finally mended the tear.

My backpack was gone— lost during the fall, or maybe washed away in the river. That was rough. I knew Allie didn’t have anything on her when we fell, so we had to be careful to not get roughed up too badly, what with having no ambrosia or nectar to heal us up. Worse than that, though, was that my Celestial bronze sword was missing— the weapon I'd carried since I was eleven years old, when I first arrived at Camp. 

That sword had gotten me through some of the roughest times, had gotten me out of numerous situations. The realization that it was gone almost made me puke, but I couldn't let myself dwell on it. Hopefully, there would be time to grieve later. What else did we have? No food, no water… basically no supplies at all.

So definitely a promising start. 

I glanced at Allie. She looked pretty bad for someone who was invulnerable. Her white hair was plastered down her neck and back and the rest was reforming her usual curls as it dried. Her T-shirt (Prada, but I knew she had about three identical ones because she liked the design so much and she refused to bring unique pieces on quests for this exact reason) was practically ripped to shreds. Her hands looked fine, but the way she kept flexing them, I knew they were sore. Most worrisome of all, she was shivering and her lips were blue.

"We should keep moving or we'll get hypothermia," I told her, noticing her lips trembling again. "Can you stand?"

She nodded. We both struggled to our feet.

I hissed when her hand enclosed around my arm and her eyes widened. 

Her jaw went slack. “Gods, Luke, your arm…” she said as she ran a hand gently over the raised lines, some so deep they bled, that spanned from my elbow to wrist from her nails digging in when we’d fallen. Where she’d been holding onto my wrist over the cavern was already beginning to bruise into a gnarly purple. “I’m so sorry, Babe.” 

I flexed my hand and twisted my wrist to show her I was alright. “It’s fine, Angel,” I told her gently, using that arm to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, then pulled her in to press a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll take this a million times over being flattened on impact.” 

She grimaced, but didn’t argue as she allowed me to continue getting us off of the ground. 

When we were standing, I put my arm around her waist, though I wasn't too sure who was supporting whom. I scanned our surroundings. Above, I saw no sign of the tunnel we'd fallen down. I couldn't even see the cavern roof— just blood-coloured clouds floating in the hazy grey air. It was like staring through a thin mix of tomato soup and cement.

The black-glass beach stretched inland about fifty yards, then dropped off the edge of a cliff. From where I stood, I couldn't see what was below, but the edge flickered with red light as if illuminated by huge fires.

A distant memory tugged at me— an old lesson from one of my earlier years at Camp. Something about Tartarus and fire. Before I could think too much about it, Allie inhaled sharply.

"Look." She pointed downstream.

A hundred feet away, a familiar-looking baby-blue Italian car had crashed headfirst into the sand. It looked just like the Fiat that had smashed into Arachne and sent her plummeting into the pit.

I hoped I was wrong, but how many Italian sports cars could there be in Tartarus? Part of me didn't want to go anywhere near it, but I had to find out. I gripped Allie's hand tightly, and we stumbled towards the wreckage. 

One of the car's tires had come off and was floating in a backwater eddy of the Cocytus. The Fiat's windows had shattered, sending brighter glass, like frosting across the dark beach. Under the crushed hood lay the tattered, glistening remains of a giant silk cocoon— the trap that Malcolm and I had tricked Arachne into weaving. It was unmistakably empty. Slash marks in the sand made a trail downriver… as if something heavy, with multiple legs, had scuttled into the darkness.

"She's alive." I was so horrified, so outraged by the unfairness of it all, I had to suppress the urge to throw up.

"It's Tartarus," Allie said, squeezing my hand. "Monster home court, right? What if, down here, they can’t be killed?” 

She gave me an embarrassed look, as if realizing she wasn't exactly helping keep team morale high. 

"Or maybe she's badly wounded, and she crawled away to die." She gave me a winning smile, as though she’d fixed her original statement. 

"Let's go with that one, Angel," I agreed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Allie was still shivering. I wasn't feeling any warmer either, despite the hot, sticky air. The glass cuts on my hands were still bleeding, which was unusual for me. Normally, I healed fast. My breathing got more and more labored the longer we stood there.

"This place is killing us," I realized. "I mean, it's literally going to kill us, unless…"

Tartarus. Fire. That distant memory came into focus. I gazed inland towards the cliff, illuminated by flames from below.

It was an absolutely crazy idea. But it might be our only chance.

"Unless what?" Allie prompted, and I was happy to see hope sparkling in those pretty sea-green eyes again. "You've got a brilliant plan, don't you, Babe?"

"It's… certainly a plan," I murmured. "I don't know about brilliant. We need to find the River of Fire."

*    *    * 

When we reached the ledge, I was sure I'd signed our death warrants.

The cliff dropped more than eighty feet. At the bottom stretched a nightmarish version of the Grand Canyon: a river of fire cutting a path through a jagged obsidian crevasse, the glowing red current casting horrible shadows across the cliff faces.

Even from the top of the canyon, the heat was intense. The chill of the River Cocytus hadn't left my bones, but now my face felt raw and sunburnt. Every breath took more effort, as if my chest was filled with styrofoam peanuts. The cuts on my hands and arms bled more rather than less.

My torn ACL, which had almost healed, now seemed to be torn again. I'd taken off my makeshift cast, but I regretted it. Each step made me wince. I tried not to lean on Allie too much, but it was difficult when I also didn’t want to slow us down. 

Assuming we could make it down to the fiery river, which I doubted, my plan seemed certifiably insane.

"Um…" Allie examined the cliff. She pointed to a tiny fissure running diagonally from the edge to the bottom. "We can try that ledge there. Might be able to climb down."

She didn't say we'd be crazy to try. She managed to sound hopeful, even schooled her expression so I couldn’t see how terrified she seemed at the prospect. I was grateful for that, but I also worried that I was leading her to her doom. Despite the fact that when Allie had first gone for a swim in the River Styx I'd been worried about the effect it would have on her mental state, I'd never been more thankful she couldn't get physically hurt. 

Of course, if we stayed where we were, we would die anyway. Blisters had started to form on my arms from exposure to the Tartarus air and would've undoubtedly done the same to Allie if she was able to get hurt. The whole environment was about as healthy as a nuclear blast zone. I was no Athena kid, but I figured we were surrounded by what I figured the reactor at Chernobyl that had exploded had felt like in the hours afterward. 

Allie went first, and every movement she made spiked my anxiety. One bad move… I didn't want to think about it. I was certain there wouldn’t be another river for her to save us with below. 

The ledge was barely wide enough to allow a toehold. Our hands clawed for any crack in the glassy rock. Every time I put pressure on my bad leg, I wanted to yelp. I'd ripped off the sleeves of my T-shirt and used the cloth to wrap my bloody palms, but my fingers were still slippery and weak. 

A few steps below me, Allie gasped as she reached for another handhold. "So… what is this fire river called again? Flagrant, something or other?"

I understood immediately that she was trying to distract me, and let her for just a moment. "The Phlegethon," I answered. "You should really concentrate on going down, Baby, you're killing my anxiety."

"The Phlegethon?" She shimmied along the ledge. We'd made it roughly a third of the way down the cliff— still high enough up to die if I fell. "Sounds like something the writers on House of the Dragon would make up for a dragon name, if they took even more creative freedom than they already have been."

"Please don't make me laugh," I said, fighting a smile through my exhaustion. “Really, baby. You’re hilarious, but can we please get down first?” 

"Just trying to keep things—” She tried to hide a hiss as her foot slipped, but I was tuned into her every move and caught it. “— light."

"Thanks," I grunted, nearly missing a step of my own with my bad foot. "I'll have a smile on my face as I plummet to my death."

"Ooh, look at you, Mr. Sarcasm. You're learning!" Allie replied, no doubt rolling her eyes. 

We kept going, one step at a time. My eyes stung with sweat. My arms trembled. But, to my amazement, we finally made it to the bottom of the cliff.

When I reached the ground, I stumbled. Allie caught me and I was alarmed by how cold her skin felt. Not a single blemish, but she felt as cold as the dead. 

My own vision was blurry. My throat felt blistered, and my stomach was clenched tighter than a fist.

We have to hurry, I thought.

"Just to the river," I told Allie, trying to keep the panic out of my voice. "Come on, Angel, we can do this."

We staggered over slick glass ledges, around massive boulders, avoiding stalagmites that would've impaled us with any slip of the foot. Our tattered clothes steamed from the heat of the river, but we kept going until we crumpled to our knees at the banks of the Phlegethon.

"We have to drink," I told her.

Allie swayed, her eyes half-closed. It took her three counts to respond. "Uh… drink fire?"

"The Phlegethon flows from Hades's realm down into Tartarus." I could barely talk. My throat was closing up from the heat and the acidic air. "The river is used to punish the wicked. But also… some legends call it the River of Healing."

"Some legends?" She managed to keep the hysteria in her tone to a minimum. But she looked even more scared than she had when scaling the massive cliff. 

I swallowed, trying to stay conscious. "The Phlegethon keeps the wicked in one piece so that they can endure the torments of the Fields of Punishment. I think… It— it might be the Underworld equivalent of ambrosia and nectar."

Allie winced as cinders sprayed from the river, curling around her face, her eyebrows still furrowed in concern. "But it's fire, Babe. How can we—-"

"Like this." I thrust my hands into the river.

Stupid? Yes, but I was convinced we had no choice. If we waited any longer, we would pass out and die. Better to try something foolish and hope it worked.

On first contact, the fire wasn't painful. It felt cold, which probably meant it was so hot it was overloading my nerves. Before I could change my mind, I cupped the fiery liquid in my palms and raised it to my mouth.

I expected a taste like gasoline. Whatever it was, it was so much worse. Once, at a restaurant back in Queens that Allie made me go to, I'd made the mistake of tasting a ghost chilli pepper that had come with a plate of Indian food. After barely nibbling it, I'd thought my respiratory system was going to implode. Drinking from the Phlegethon was like gulping down a ghost chilli smoothie. My sinuses filled with liquid flame. My mouth felt like it was being deep-fried. My eyes shed boiling tears, and every pore on my face popped. I collapsed, gagging and retching, my whole body shaking violently.

"Luke!" Allie grabbed my arms and just managed to stop me from rolling into the river.

The convulsions passed. I took a ragged breath and managed to sit up. I felt horribly weak and nauseous, but my next breath came more easily. The blisters on my arms were starting to fade.

"It worked," I croaked. "Allie, baby, you've got to drink."

"I…" Her eyes rolled up in her head, and she slumped against me.

Desperately, I cupped more fire in my palm. Ignoring the pain, I dripped the liquid into Allie's mouth. She didn't respond.

I tried again, pouring a whole handful down her throat. This time she spluttered and coughed.

I held her as she trembled, the magical fire coursing through her system. Her fever disappeared and the ice-y feeling of her arms started going back to normal. She managed to sit up and smack her lips.

"Ugh," she groaned. "Spicy, yet disgusting."

I laughed weakly. I was so relieved I felt light-headed. "Yeah. That pretty much sums it up."

She pressed a kiss to my lips, and it felt like a reward. "You saved us."

"For now," I said. "The problem is… Well, we're still in Tartarus."

Allie blinked. She looked around as if just coming to terms with where we were. "Holy shit. I never thought… Well, I'm not sure what I thought. Maybe that Tartarus was empty space, a pit with no bottom. But this is a real place."

I recalled the landscape I'd seen while we fell— a series of plateaus leading ever downwards into the gloom.

"We haven't seen all of it," I warned. "This could be just the first tiny part of the abyss, like the front steps."

"The welcome mat," Allie muttered.

We both gazed up at the blood-coloured clouds swirling in the grey haze. No way would we have the strength to climb back up that cliff, even if we wanted to. Now there were only two choices: downriver or upriver, skirting the banks of the Phlegethon.

"We'll find a way out," Allie said, and I couldn’t believe the amount of determination that her voice held. "The Doors of Death."

I shuddered. I remembered what Allie had said just before we fell into Tartarus. The promise she'd made Nico di Angelo make to lead the Argo II to Epirus, to the mortal side of the Doors of Death.

We'll see you there, Allie had practically shrieked.

That idea seemed even crazier than drinking fire. How could the two of us wander through Tartarus and find the Doors of Death? We'd barely been able to stumble a hundred yards in this poisonous place without dying.

"We have to," Allie said. "Not just for us. For everybody we love. The Doors have to be closed on both sides, or the monsters will just keep coming through. Gaea's forces will overrun the world."

I knew she was right. Still… When I tried to imagine a plan that could succeed, the logistics overwhelmed me. We had no way of locating the Doors. We didn't know how much time it would take, or even if time flowed at the same speed in Tartarus. How could we possibly synchronize a meeting with our friends? And Nico had mentioned a legion of Gaia's strongest monsters guarding the Doors on the Tartarus side. We couldn't exactly launch a frontal assault, not just the two of us.

I decided not to mention any of that. We both knew the odds were bad. Besides, after swimming in the River Cocytus, I had heard enough whining and moaning to last a lifetime.

I promised myself never to complain again.

"Well." I took a deep breath, grateful at least that my lungs didn't hurt. "If we stay close to the river, we'll have a way to heal ourselves. If we go downstream—"

It happened so fast that I would have been dead if I'd been on my own.

Allie's eyes locked on something behind me before my senses had even registered that anything was there. I spun as a massive dark shape hurtled down at me— a snarling, monstrous blob with spindly barbed legs and glinting eyes.

I reached for my sword and came up empty. The reminder that my sword was gone forever made me freeze. The sickly sweet smell overtook my senses. 

Then I heard the familiar SHINK of Allie's necklace transforming into a sword. Her blade swept over my head in a glowing bronze arc as she flipped over my shoulder. A horrible wail echoed through the canyon.

I stood there, stunned, as yellow dust— the remains of Arachne— rained around me like tree pollen.

*    *    *

previous | next

prologue.

Allie

in between the events of the Battle of the Labyrinth and the Last Olympian. 

“Allie!” I heard the voice of Thalia call after trekking through an array of frozen bushes. “What are you doing here, Moviestar?” 

“Thalia?” I asked. “Mrs. O’Leary brought me here. Took me off the set of the Marvel movie I’m going right now. I’m sure Danny’s blowing up my phone right now. Are you… following the deer, I’m assuming?” 

The deer in question was a solid gold deer that was now playing keep-away with Mrs. O’Leary. Despite my Hellhound being around three times the size of the deer, it was fast and held its own. 

“One of Lady Artemis’ sacred animals,” Thalia answered. “I figured it was an omen of some sort.” She furrowed her brows. “It’s a bit odd, us ending up at the same place at the same time, isn’t it?” 

I frowned. I didn’t want to say it, but I couldn’t say I wasn’t thinking the same thing. I loved Thalia like a sister. Although we couldn’t see each other as often since she became a Hunter of Artemis, that hadn’t changed. But… for us to suddenly be brought together, after a year of not seeing each other, it was definitely suspicious. 

“Some god messing with us, do you think?” I offered up. 

Thalia sighed in irritation. “Probably,” she bit back. “Whatever. It’s good to see you, though. How’s Luke?” 

“Protective as ever,” I replied, trying not to smile too widely. She would have called me on it immediately. “He’s spending most of his time training up the younger kids. You should see—”

Before I could finish, a cloud passed over the sun. The golden deer shimmered and disappeared, leaving Mrs. O’Leary barking at a pile of leaves. I pulled out my swords in an instant. Thalia drew her bow. Instinctively we stood back-to-back. A patch of darkness passed over the clearing and a boy tumbled out of it like he’d been tossed, landing in the grass at our feet.

“Ow,” he muttered. He brushed off his aviator’s jacket. He was about twelve years old, with dark hair, jeans, a black T-shirt, and a silver skull ring on his right hand. A sword hung at his side.

“Nico?” I said.

Thalia’s eyes widened. “Bianca’s little brother?”

Nico winced before covering it up with a scowl. Only a year had passed since Bianca had died under my and Thalia’s watch. He had since forgiven me— mostly against his will, but still— but I figured mentioning her was a bit of a store spot. 

“Why’d you bring me here?” he grumbled. “One minute I’m in a New Orleans graveyard. The next minute— is this New York? What in Hades’s name am I doing in New York?”

“We didn’t bring you here,” I promised. “We were—” A shiver went down my spine. “We were brought together. All three of us.”

“What are you talking about?” Nico demanded.

“The children of the Big Three,” I said. “Zeus, Poseidon, Hades. That can’t be a coincidence, right?”

Thalia took a sharp breath. “The prophecy. You don’t think Kronos…”

A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold, December air around me jolted my body. “I don’t know. Maybe—” 

Before I could finish my thought, the ground beneath us opened up and swallowed us whole. 

—

“‘Family spat’?” Nico cried. "You turned me into a dandelion!”

Persephone waved her hand dismissively. “That was then, this is now. As I said, demigods, I welcome you to my garden. Unfortunately, it is not under the best circumstances that I have brought you here. Still, it was necessary.” 

My eyes furrowed as I studied the goddess suspiciously. “What’s happened?” 

Persephone regarded me, and I felt like cold little flowers were blooming in my stomach. “Lord Hades has a problem,” she said. “And if you know what’s good for you, you will help him.”

“That’s reassuring,” I shot back primly. 

“In any case, I apologize for the chaos in bringing you here,” Persephone told us airily. “If it were spring, I would have been able to greet you three properly in the Aboveworld. Alas, in winter this is the best I can do.”

For as much as I knew Persephone wasn’t entirely put-off by spending half of the year in the Underworld (And as much as I loved performing as Eurydice for Hadestown, I knew the way Hades and Persephone were portrayed there wasn’t exactly accurate), I wondered if maybe she got a little tired of it sometimes. She looked so pale and out of place that I wouldn’t have been surprised if she ever wondered what it might be like to have been given the choice. 

I didn’t think she could read my mind, but her expression twisted like she could. “I would do anything for my Husband,” she said simply. “And in this case I need your help, quickly, in service of him. It concerns Lord Hades’s sword.”

Nico frowned. “My father doesn’t have a sword. He uses a staff in battle, and his helm of terror.”

“He didn’t have a sword,” Persephone corrected.

Thalia sat up, her eyebrows raising with her. “He’s forging a new symbol of power? Without Zeus’s permission? That seems…”

The goddess of springtime pointed. Above the table, an image flickered to life: skeletal weapon smiths worked over a forge of black flames, using hammers fashioned like metal skulls to beat a length of iron into a blade.

“War with the Titans is almost upon us,” Persephone said simply. “My lord Hades must be ready.”

“But Zeus and Poseidon would never allow Hades to forge a new weapon!” Thalia protested. “It would unbalance their power-sharing agreement.”

Persephone sucked on the inside of her cheeks, like she wanted to say something far less hospitable than she’d thus far been. “You mean it would make Hades their equal?” she settled on. “Believe me, daughter of Zeus, the Lord of the Dead has no designs against his brothers. He knew they would never understand, which is why he forged the blade in secret.”

The image over the table shimmered. A zombie weapon smith raised the blade, still glowing hot. Something strange was set in the base— not a gem. More like…

“Is that a key?” I asked.

Nico made a gagging sound. “The keys of Hades?”

“Wait,” Thalia interjected. “What are the keys of Hades?”

Nico looked even paler than his stepmother. “Hades has a set of golden keys that can lock or unlock death. At least… that’s the legend.”

“It is true,” Persephone confirmed casually, as though speaking about the weather.

I raised an eyebrow. “How do you lock and unlock death?” I asked. “Is death not just… death?” 

“The keys have the power to imprison a soul in the Underworld,” Persephone said. “Or to release it.”

Nico swallowed. “If one of those keys has been set in the sword—”

“The wielder can raise the dead,” Persephone said, “or slay any living thing and send its soul to the Underworld with a mere touch of the blade.”

We were all silent. The shadowy fountain gurgled in the corner. Handmaidens floated around us, offering trays of fruit and candy that would keep us in the Underworld forever.

“Well, it’s certainly a new concept,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll give it that, I suppose.” 

Thalia snorted. “And it would make Hades unstoppable.” 

“Then you understand why I’ve brought you here,” Persephone said. “Why I need you three to help get it back.” 

I stared at her. “I’m sorry, you said ‘get it back’?” I asked incredulously. “You mean to tell me you’ve lost the control-over-the-dead sword?” 

Persephone’s eyes were beautiful and deadly serious, like poisonous blooms. “Lost? Oh, certainly not, Daughter of Poseidon. The blade was stolen when it was almost finished. I do not know how, but I suspect a demigod, some servant of Kronos. If the blade falls into the Titan lord’s hands—”

Thalia shot to her feet. “You allowed the blade to be stolen? That’s damn near worse than losing it! How stupid was that? Kronos probably has it by now!”

Thalia’s arrows sprouted into long-stemmed roses. Her bow melted into a honeysuckle vine dotted with white and gold flowers.

“Take care, huntress,” Persephone warned. “Your father may be Zeus, and you may be the lieutenant of Artemis, but you do not speak to me with disrespect in my own palace.”

Thalia ground her teeth. “Give… me… back… my… bow.”

Persephone waved her hand. The bow and arrows changed back to normal. “Now, sit and listen. The sword could not have left the Underworld yet,” Persephone told us. “Lord Hades used his remaining keys to shut down the realm. Nothing gets in or out until he finds the sword, and he is using all his power to locate the thief.”

Thalia sat down reluctantly, but she was still gritting her teeth like she wanted to sink them into the goddess’ arm. “Then what are we here for? Why can’t you get some ghosts to do your dirty work for you or something?”

“It is of utmost importance that the search for the sword remain a secret,” said the goddess. “We have locked the realm, but we have not announced why, nor can Hades’s servants be used for the search. They cannot know the blade exists until it is finished. Certainly, they can’t know it is missing.”

“If they thought Hades was in trouble, they might desert him,” Nico guessed. “And join the Titans.”

Persephone didn’t answer, but if a goddess can look nervous, she did. “The thief must be a demigod. No immortal can steal another immortal’s weapon directly. Even Kronos must abide by that Ancient Law. He has a champion down here somewhere. And to catch a demigod… we shall use three.”

“And… Why us specifically?” I said. “I was a little busy, you know. I do have a job outside of the Greek world, as you immortals seem to forget.” 

“You are the children of the three major gods,” Persephone replied, tactfully avoiding the mention of my job. “Who could withstand your combined power? Besides, when you restore the sword to Hades, you will send a message to Olympus. Zeus and Poseidon will not protest Hades’s new weapon if it is given to him by their own children. It will show that you trust Hades.”

Thalia scoffed loudly. “Except for the fact that I don’t trust him.” 

“Neither do I, really,” I added. “Not enough to go out of my way to retrieve his secretive little superweapon. Nico?”

He was silent, and I knew he was lost to the cause. His fingers tapped incessantly on his Stygian Iron blade, his eyes unfocused. 

I sighed. “Come on, dude…” 

“Allie, he’s my father,” he finally said, looking at me imploringly. “Besides, I would rather the sword in his hands than Kronos’, wouldn’t you?” 

He had a point, but that didn’t mean I liked the idea any more than I did a few seconds prior. 

“There is no time to waste,” Persephone prompted. “If the quest is acceptable to you, you must hurry. The thief may have accomplices in the Underworld, and he will be looking for a way out.”

I frowned. “I thought you said the realm was locked?”

Persephone grimaced. “No prison is airtight, Astraea Jackson, not even the Underworld. Souls are always finding new ways out faster than Hades can close them. You must retrieve the sword before it leaves our realm, or all is lost.”

“Even if we wanted to,” Thalia asked, “how would we find this thief?”

A potted plant appeared on the table: a sickly yellow carnation with a few green leaves. The flower listed sideways, as if it were trying to find the sun.

“This will guide you,” the goddess said.

“A magical carnation compass?” I asked, trying to keep the laughter out of my voice. “Now I’ve seen everything.”

“The flower always faces the thief, yes, as your mortal compass would always point north. However, as your prey gets closer to escaping, the petals will fall off.”

Right on cue, a yellow petal turned gray and fluttered into the dirt.

“If all the petals fall off,” Persephone told us, her voice grim, “the flower dies. This means the thief has reached an exit and you have failed.”

I glanced at Thalia. She didn’t seem too enthusiastic about the whole track-a-thief-with-a-flower thing any more than I did. Then I looked at Nico. Unfortunately, I recognized the expression on his face. I knew what it was like wanting to make your dad proud, even if your dad was hard to love. Who cared about being a pawn if it meant being recognized by your parent?

Nico was going to do this, with or without us. And I couldn’t let him go alone.

“One condition,” I told Persephone. “Hades will have to swear on the River Styx that he will never use this sword against the gods.”

The goddess shrugged. “I am not Lord Hades, but I am confident he would do this— as payment for your help.”

Another petal fell off the carnation.

I bit my lip. "Then, if you're acting as his messenger, you will tell him this: we will go straight to Zeus and Poseidon if he does not give me this vow before we return the sword. We will tell them we were manipulated and forced, and there will be war. Tell Hades that we will not be doing his dirty work for free." 

Persephone pursed her lips, obviously unsatisfied by the blackmail, but simply nodded stiffly. “My previous point remains.” 

Figuring that was the best I was going to get until I could face Hades himself, I turned to Thalia. “I’ll hold the flower while you beat up the thief?”

She sighed. “Fine. Let’s go catch this jerk.”

—

We’d walked for what felt like hundreds of miles and had a chat with Sisyphus before finally reaching true danger. 

“Weapons!” Thalia cried. 

Nico and I followed her order immediately. I drew Riptide, but was forced to toss the potted plant to the ground to pull Shaker out, as well.

We stood back-to-back. Thalia notched an arrow.

“What is it?” I whispered.

She seemed to be listening. Then her eyes widened. A ring of a dozen daimones materialized around us.

They were part humanoid female, part bat. Their faces were pug-nosed and furry, with fangs and bulging eyes. Matted gray fur and piecemeal armor covered their bodies. They had shriveled arms with claws for hands, leathery wings that sprouted from their backs, and stubby bowed legs. They would’ve looked funny except for the murderous glow in their eyes.

“Keres,” Nico said, and I could detect just a smidge of fear in his voice. “Battlefield spirits. They feed on violent death.”

“Oh, that sounds peachy,” Thalia said sarcastically.

“Get back!” Nico ordered the daimones. “The son of Hades commands you!”

The Keres hissed. Their mouths foamed. They glanced apprehensively at our weapons, but I got the feeling the Keres weren’t very impressed by Nico’s command. They didn’t move forward, but they certainly didn’t back down. 

“Soon Hades will be defeated,” one of them snarled. “Our new master shall give us free rein!”

Nico blinked. “New master?”

The lead daimon lunged. Nico was so surprised it might have slashed him to bits, but Thalia shot an arrow point-blank into its ugly bat face, and the creature disintegrated.

The rest of them charged, obviously not as interested in trying to have a conversation. Thalia dropped her bow and drew her knives. I ducked as Nico’s sword whistled over my head, cutting a daimon in half. I sliced outward with both of my swords, and three or four Keres exploded around me, but more just kept coming.

“Iapetus shall crush you!” one shouted.

I didn’t bother giving her a response. It was far more enjoyable to slice her in half, then roll forward and take another out without batting an eye. 

Nico was also cutting an arc through the Keres. His black sword absorbed their essence like a vacuum cleaner, and the more he destroyed, the colder the air became around him. Thalia flipped a daimon on its back, stabbed it, and impaled another one with her second knife without even turning around. 

Unfortunately, my flashy roll had moved me further from them both. The Keres made their move, and it was a good one. 

Unfortunately for them, I wasn’t rusty. 

For a moment, I was winning with ease. I turned and slashed and stabbed like it was second nature. Any time one got too close, Shaker or Riptide was there as an extension of my arm to take care of them for me. I’d always known it was more risky taking a second sword than using my free hand to hold a shield— but I’d never exactly been one for subtlety, and two swords allowed me to cause double the amount of destruction. 

Eventually, though, one was bound to get a lucky hit. 

“Die in pain, demigoddess!” Before I could raise my sword for defense, another daimon’s claws raked my shoulder. 

Not for the first time, I cursed Persephone for bringing me in for the quest so last minute. If I’d had enough time to grab a set of armor, it wouldn’t have been an issue. Unfortunately, I was still in my clothes from set. The thing’s talons sliced open my Miu Miu long sleeved shirt and tore into my skin. My whole left side seemed to explode in pain. I couldn’t hold back the scream that erupted from my throat. 

Nico kicked the monster away and stabbed it. All I could do was collapse to my hands and knees, trying to endure the horrible burning and keep from passing out.

The sound of battle died. Thalia and Nico rushed to my side.

“Hold still, Allie,” Thalia said. “You’ll be fine.” But the quiver in her voice and the fact that she didn’t call me ‘Moviestar’ told me the wound was worse than I thought. 

Nico touched it and I cried out again. “Nectar,” he told me, and I’d never heard his voice be so gentle. “I’m pouring nectar on it. Just hold as still as you can.”

He uncorked a bottle of the godly drink and trickled it across my shoulder. I was glad I’d never been too sensitive to the food and drinks of the gods— immediately the pain eased and the lack of a buzzing in my fingers told me I wasn’t close to combusting. Together, Nico and Thalia dressed the wound, and I passed out only a few times.

—

I couldn’t judge how much time went by, but the next thing I remember I was propped up with my back against a rock. My shoulder was bandaged.

Thalia was feeding me tiny squares of ambrosia flavored like the fresh blackberries I’d gorged myself on in Northern Ireland during filming for a few of the earlier seasons of Game of Thrones.

“The Keres?” I managed. “Did we get them all?”

“They’re gone for now,” she answered, concern still toying at her brow. “You had me worried for a second, Moviestar, but I think you’ll make it.” 

Nico crouched next to us. He was holding the potted carnation. Only five petals still clung to the flower.

“The Keres will be back,” he warned. He looked at my shoulder with concern. “That wound… the Keres are spirits of disease and pestilence as well as violence. We can slow down the infection, but eventually you’ll need serious healing. I mean a god’ s power. Otherwise…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

“I’ll be fine. Apollo still owes me one, anyways, I’m sure.” I tried to sit up and immediately felt nauseous. “Oh, shit, this may be a bit worse than I thought.” 

“A bit?” Thalia repeated incredulously. “Gods, Allie, go slow. You need rest before you can move.”

I sighed. “We don’t have enough time for me to go slow.” I looked at the carnation. “One of the daimones mentioned Iapetus. Am I remembering right? He’s a Titan?”

Thalia nodded uneasily. “The brother of Kronos, father of Atlas. He was known as the Titan of the west. His name means ‘the Piercer’ because that’s what he likes to do to his enemies. He was cast into Tartarus along with his brothers. He’s supposed to still be down there.”

“But if the sword of Hades can unlock death?” I asked. 

“Then maybe,” Nico said, “it can also summon the damned out of Tartarus. We can’t let them try.”

“We still don’t know who them is,” Thalia complained.

“The half-blood working for Kronos,” I reminded her. “It’s probably Ethan Nakamura, if what Sisyphus told us can be trusted. And he’s starting to recruit some of Hades’s minions to his side— like the Keres. The daimones think that if Kronos wins the war, they’ll get more chaos and evil out of the deal.”

“They’re probably right,” Nico added. “My father tries to keep a balance. He reins in the more violent spirits. If Kronos appoints one of his brothers to be the lord of the Underworld—”

“Like this Iapetus dude,” I interjected. 

“—then the Underworld will get a lot worse,” Nico finished. “The Keres would like that. So would Melinoe.”

“You still haven’t told us who Melinoe is.”

Nico chewed his lip. “She’s the goddess of ghosts— one of my father’s servants. She oversees the restless dead that walk the earth. Every night she rises from the Underworld to terrify mortals.”

“She has her own path into the upper world?”

Nico nodded. “I doubt it would be blocked. Normally, no one would even think about trespassing in her cave. But if this demigod thief is brave enough to make a deal with her—”

“He could get back to the world,” Thalia supplied, “and bring the sword to Kronos.”

“Who would use it to raise his brothers from Tartarus,” I guessed. “And then we’d be really fucked.”

I grit my teeth, then struggled to my feet. A wave of nausea almost made me fall back to the ground, but Thalia was there to grab me before I blacked out.

“Allie,” she hissed, “you’re in no condition—”

“I have to be.” I watched as another petal withered and fell off the carnation. Four left before doomsday. “Give me the potted plant. We have to find the cave of Melinoe before they can leave.”

—

As we walked, I tried to think about anything that would take my mind off of the pain. Even the thought of a probably very pissed off Danny due to me rushing off set was a more welcome distraction. I’d tossed out the idea of practicing my lines, which is what my manager would have wanted me to do, when thinking about them just made the pain in my shoulder throb worse.

Instead, I tried to think more positively. Thinking about Luke worked for a while, until I realized that the second he heard about this little excursion and how badly I’d been injured, he was going to flip his shit. Then, I thought about the football player that had essentially asked me out publicly in his post-game interview the previous weekend, which was as horrifying as it was absurd, considering I’d never met the guy, but that brought me back to Luke, who was sure to give me an earful the next time I saw him. 

Maybe thinking about Luke was the right move. My musings about him were only sometimes interrupted by the unbearable, scorching pain in my shoulder. Still, even thoughts of him were sometimes paused so I could curse myself for letting my guard down. How stupid was I? Gods, I would be useless in a fight, and who knew how much worse the pain was going to get. Already, I could feel it spreading from my shoulder down my arms and to my side. If it got to my legs, would I even be able to walk? 

I tried to hold back a groan of frustration. I hated leaving Thalia and Nico to pick up my slack and drag me through the rest of the mission. 

I was so busy feeling sorry for myself, I didn’t notice the sound of roaring water until Nico said, “Uh-oh.”

About fifty feet ahead of us, a dark river churned through a gorge of volcanic rock. I’d seen the Styx, and this didn’t look like the same river. It was narrow and fast. The water was black as ink. Even the foam churned black. The far bank was only thirty feet across, but that was too far to jump, and there was no bridge.

“The River Lethe.” Nico cursed in Ancient Greek. “We’ll never make it across."

The flower was pointing to the other side— toward a gloomy mountain and a path leading up to a cave. Beyond the mountain, the walls of the Underworld loomed like a dark granite sky. I hadn’t considered that the Underworld might have an ending, but this appeared to be it.

“Is there… not a way across?” I asked. “Seems a bit of an oversight, no?” 

Thalia knelt next to the bank.

“Careful!” Nico warned. “This is the River of Forgetfulness. If one drop of that water gets on you, you’ll start to forget who you are.”

Thalia backed up. “I know this place. Luke told me about it once. Souls come here if they choose to be reborn, so they totally forget their former lives.”

Nico nodded. “Swim in that water and your mind will be wiped clean. You’ll be like a newborn baby.”

I wondered if Nico was talking from his knowledge as a Son of Hades, or the fact that he’d been to the river before himself. 

Thalia studied the opposite bank. “I could shoot an arrow across, maybe anchor a line to one of those rocks.”

“You want to trust your weight to a line that isn’t tied off?” Nico asked.

Thalia frowned. “You’re right. It would probably work if this was one of your movies, Allie, but… no. Could you summon some dead people to help us?”

“I could, but they would only appear on my side of the river. Running water acts as a barrier against the dead. They can’t cross it.”

I winced. “What kind of fucked up, stupid rule is that?”

“Hey, I didn’t come up with it.” He studied my face. “You look terrible, Allie. Come on, you need to sit down.”

I shook off his hand from my arm, and squared my shoulders, shuddering at the roll of pain that shot down to my feet. “I’m fine. Besides, unfortunately for all of us, I’m the only one of us three who has the particular skill set for this.”

“For what?” Thalia asked, her eyes wide. “Allie, you can barely stand.”

I shrugged, then cursed at myself for doing so. “I mean, it's water, isn’t it? At, like, its roots, or whatever. I can control water, I can, um, maybe control this. Or, well, I’ll have to control it. Maybe I can redirect the flow long enough to get us across.”

“No. No way. In your condition?” Nico said, and his tone reminded me an awful lot of Luke whenever his protective instinct kicked in. “Absolutely not. I’d feel safer with the arrow idea. Besides, even as a Daughter of Poseidon, I seriously doubt you have control over—”

I stumbled to the edge of the river.

I didn’t know if I could do this, Nico was right. I was the Daughter of Poseidon, so my vein of control should have stopped at salty ocean water. Despite that, I tended to be able to control various forms of water— rivers, lakes, the occasional glass of water if I was being particularly lazy— with ease. Some might have been more difficult than others, but I was still able to do it. 

This was different, though. An Underworld river wasn’t just water it was… Well, whatever the opposite of sugar, spice, and everything nice was, I was sure. 

I took in a deep breath through my nose and held it for a moment before letting it out through my mouth. “Just… stand back, alright?” I said. “We’ll never know if I don’t try. And it’s not like we have any better ideas.”

I’d always felt my most powerful near a body of water. The human body was mostly water, anyways, but I almost felt like mine was even more so. Water didn’t just flow through my veins— it sat restless in my soul. 

I swallowed hard and tried concentrating on the current— inky black and rushing past though it was. As I concentrated, it was like I couldn’t even feel the pain in my shoulder anymore. The current was responding to my will, following my commands. It was a part of me, it understood my presence. 

There was no way I’d be able to stop the current in its entirety. It was far too large and far too untamed for me to even consider trying given my state. Besides, as I’d always said, water didn’t like to be tamed. I would likely only cause more destruction than I wanted to. Still, I knew of another way. 

I grit my teeth, trying to psyche myself up. “Okay, here goes nothing.” 

The pain in my shoulder flared up as I raised my arms above my head. It was so severe, it was beginning to make me feel nauseous, but I tried to swallow the bile building up in the back of my throat. I needed to concentrate. We had to get across. 

The river rose. It surged out of its banks, flowing up and then down again in a great arc— a raging black rainbow of water twenty feet high. The riverbed in front of us turned to drying mud, a tunnel under the river just wide enough for two people to walk side by side.

Thalia and Nico stared at me in amazement.

“Allie,” Nico said, his voice oddly quiet and even more awed. “How…?” 

“Go,” I gasped out. “I won’t be able to hold this for long.”

Black spots danced in front of my eyes. My wounded shoulder nearly screamed in pain. Thalia and Nico scrambled into the riverbed and made their way across the sticky mud.

Not a single drop. I can’t let a single drop of water touch them.

The River Lethe fought me. It didn’t want to be forced out of its banks. It wanted to crash down on my friends, wipe their minds clean, and drown them. But I held the arc. Something about it, though it exhausted me, also felt… I wasn’t sure I could describe it. For a moment, my fingers tingled. At first, I thought it was the same feeling I got when I got close to eating too much ambrosia. Then I realized it was simply raw power pulsing from my very soul out to my hands. 

Thalia climbed the opposite bank and turned to help Nico.

“Come on, Moviestar!” she called. “You need to walk across now!”

My knees were shaking. My arms trembled. I took a step forward and almost fell. The water arc quivered.

“I don’t think I can make it,” I tried calling, but my voice came out more wobbly than I cared to admit.

“Yes, you can!” Thalia implored. “We need you, Allie! You’ll be fine.”

A small whimper left my mouth as I tried making my way down to the riverbed. It was all I could do to stay concentrated on keeping the water arc steady above my head. One step after another. 

There was only a second that I thought I might actually have a chance at making it. 

Then, my foot slipped. 

The last thing I heard before the black water crashed on top of my head was Thalia screaming, “NO!” 

—

I would never admit it to anyone, but almost a full minute passed where the panic made me think that I truly had gotten my memories wiped. 

As the powerful current flowed back on its regular course, I laid at the bottom of the river, entirely dry. It was something that naturally happened when I was in contact with water, but even though I’d been able to control the river, I wasn’t sure that that specific power would kick in when I needed it most. 

I opened my eyes. I was surrounded in darkness, but my heat sensitive eyes allowed me to make the faintest of shadows at the edge of the shore— Thalia and Nico. 

If I’d been able to think about anything but my pain and exhaustion, I would have cried out at how worried they probably were. I struggled to my feet. Even this small effort to stay dry— something that was second nature in normal water— was almost more than I could handle. I slogged forward through the black current, blind and doubled over with pain. My arm spasmed with every flare of the searing injury. 

I crawled out of the River Lethe, and could just barely hear Thalia and Nico asking me all sorts of questions over the roaring in my ears. Unfortunately, I seemed to have overstayed my welcome in the waking world. I only got about two feet from the shore of the Lethe before I was out cold.

***  

The taste of nectar brought me around. My shoulder felt better, but I had an uncomfortable buzz in my ears. My eyes felt hot, like I had a fever.

“We can’t risk any more nectar,” Thalia was saying, her voice trembling out of worry. “It’s Allie, but I’m afraid even she’ll burst into flames.” She paused. “She was dry, though… Do you think—?”

“We won’t know until she wakes up,” Nico said, and even his voice seemed tighter than usual. “But the Lethe is…” 

“Powerful?” I interjected, laughing as the two jumped then immediately doubled over in a coughing fit. “Yeah, I got that part. Fully understood.” 

My voice was a little choppy, but the relief on both of my cousins’ faces meant I couldn’t keep from giving another small laugh. I sat up slowly. My shoulder was newly bandaged. It still hurt like hell, but I was able to stand.

“You, um,” Thalia started. She looked a little uncomfortable. “Do you, you know… Remember?”

I snorted. “Thalia, I fear I would have already started screaming bloody murder if I had you two whacko’s standing over me with a bunch of deadly weapons and didn’t know who you were, or who I was.” 

She laughed, but I could see the relief in her eyes. “Fair play, Moviestar.” 

“We’re close,” Nico said, changing the topic even though he, too, looked super relieved. “Can you walk?”

The mountain loomed above us. A dusty trail snaked up a few hundred feet to the mouth of a cave. The path was lined with human bones for that extra cozy feel.

I squared my shoulders and pushed myself to my feet. I wobbled on my ankles for a moment before steadying. “I’ll be fine,” I answered. “Let’s get this over with.” 

“I don’t like this,” Thalia murmured. She cradled the carnation, which was pointing toward the cave. The flower now had two petals left, like very sad bunny ears.

“Neither do I,” I replied. “The goddess of ghosts. What’s not to like?”

As if in response, a hissing sound echoed down the mountain. White mist billowed from the cave like someone had turned on a dry-ice machine. In the fog, an image appeared— a tall woman with disheveled blond hair.

She wore a pink bathrobe and had a wineglass in her hand. Her face was stern and disapproving. I could see right through her, so I knew she was a spirit of some kind, but her voice sounded real enough. And I knew exactly who the woman resembled. Danny had used her as a cautionary tale for my job often enough. 

“Now you come back,” she growled. “Well, it’s too late!”

I looked at Nico and whispered, “Wait, is this Melinoe? Why does she look like—?”

“Ungratful, monstrous child!” the ghost cried. “You disappoint me.” 

Nico couldn’t answer me. He stood frozen, staring at the spirit. 

Thalia lowered her bow. “Mother?” Her eyes teared up as she stared at the ghost. Suddenly she looked about seven years old.

The spirit threw down her wineglass. It shattered and dissolved into the fog.

“That’s right, girl. Doomed to walk the earth, and it’s your fault! Where were you when I died? Why did you run away when I needed you?”

“I— I—”

“Thalia,” I said, stepping to her side. “It’s just a shade. It can’t hurt you.”

“I’m more than that,” the spirit growled. “And Thalia knows it.”

“But— you abandoned me,” Thalia stuttered. “I didn’t—” 

“You wretched girl! Ungrateful runaway!”

The shade shimmered and changed shape, this time much harder to see. She was a woman in an old-fashioned black velvet dress with a matching hat. She wore a string of pearls and white gloves, and her dark hair was tied back.

Nico stopped in his tracks. “No…”

“My son,” the ghost crooned. “I died when you were so young. I haunt the world in grief, wondering about you and your sister.”

“Mama?”

“No, it’s my mother,” Thalia murmured, as if she still saw the first image.

My friends were helpless. The fog began thickening around their feet, twining around their legs like vines. The colors seemed to fade from their clothes and faces, as if they too were becoming shades.

“Enough,” I said, but my voice was barely more than a whisper. Despite the pain, I lifted my swords and stepped toward the ghost. “Show us your true form!”

The ghost turned toward me. The image flickered, and I couldn’t quite determine what the shade was trying to embody before it settled on the goddess as she was.

You’d think after a while I would stop getting freaked out by the appearance of Greek spirits, but Melinoe caught me by surprise. Her right half was pale chalky white, like she’d been drained of blood. Her left half was pitch-black and hardened, like mummy skin. She wore a golden dress and a golden shawl. Her eyes were empty black voids, and when I looked into them, I felt as if I were seeing my own death.

“Where are your ghosts?” she demanded in irritation.

I furrowed my eyebrows, unsure of how to respond before I landed on sarcasm. “My ghosts? I’m not sure, I must have left them at home. This was a little bit of a last-minute excursion, you see.”

She snarled. “Everyone has ghosts, silly girl— deaths you regret. Guilt. Fear. Why can I not see yours?”

Thalia and Nico were still entranced, staring at the goddess as if she were their long-lost mothers. I thought about other friends I’d seen die— Bianca di Angelo, Brylie Vegas, Zoë Nightshade, Lee Fletcher. So many who had died in the name of fighting for a better world. I thought of my mother, who had died at the hands of her abusive husband— the man she’d married to protect me. But I’d allowed myself relief from the guilt of her death long ago. 

I realized in that moment why the goddess could not affect me as she did Thalia and Nico.

I swallowed hard.  “I’ve made my peace with them,” I said simply. “They’ve passed on. They’re not ghosts, they still live within my memories of them. Now, let my friends go!”

I slashed at Melinoe with my swords. She backed up quickly, growling in frustration. The fog dissipated around my friends. They stood blinking at the goddess as if they were just seeing how hideous she was.

“What is that?” Thalia cried. “Where—”

“It was a trick,” Nico said, his eyes wide. “She fooled us.”

“You are too late, demigods,” Melinoe shrieked. Another petal fell off my carnation, leaving only one. “The deal has been struck.”

“What deal?” I demanded.

Melinoe made a hissing sound, and I realized it was her way of laughing. “So many ghosts, my pretty demigoddess. They long to be unleashed. When Kronos rules the world, I shall be free to walk among mortals both night and day, sowing terror as they deserve.”

“Where’s the sword of Hades?” I asked. “Where’s Ethan?”

“Close,” Melinoe promised. “I will not stop you. I will not need to. Soon, Astraea Jackson, you will have many ghosts. And you will remember me, and you will never remember true peace.”

Thalia notched an arrow and aimed it at the goddess. “If you open a path to the world, do you really think Kronos will reward you? He’ll cast you into Tartarus along with the rest of Hades’s servants.”

Melinoe bared her teeth. “Your mother was right, Thalia. You are an angry girl. Good at running away. Not much else.”

The arrow flew, but as it touched Melinoe she dissolved into fog, leaving nothing but the hiss of her laughter. Thalia’s arrow hit the rocks and shattered harmlessly.

“Stupid ghost,” she muttered.

I could tell she was really shaken up. Her eyes were rimmed with red. Her hands trembled. Nico looked just as stunned, like someone had smacked him between the eyes.

“The thief…” he managed, his voice strained. “Probably in the cave. We have to stop him before—”

Just then, the last petal fell off the carnation. The flower turned black and wilted.

“Too late,” I said dejectedly.

A man’s laughter echoed down the mountain.

“You’re right about that,” a voice boomed. At the mouth of the cave stood two people— a boy with an eye patch and ten-foot-tall man in a tattered prison jumpsuit. The boy I recognized: Ethan Nakamura, son of Nemesis. In his hands was an unfinished sword— a double-edged blade of black Stygian iron with skeletal designs etched in silver. It had no hilt, but set in the base of the blade was a golden key, just like I’d seen in Persephone’s image.

The giant man next to him had eyes of pure silver. His face was covered with a scraggly beard and his gray hair stuck out wildly. He looked thin and haggard in his ripped prison clothes, as though he’d spent the last few thousand years at the bottom of a pit, but even in this weakened state he looked plenty scary. He held out his hand and a giant spear appeared. I remembered what Thalia had said about Iapetus: His name means “the Piercer” because that’s what he likes to do to his enemies.

The Titan smiled cruelly. “And now I will destroy you.”

—

“Master!” Ethan interrupted. He was dressed in combat fatigues with a backpack slung over his shoulder. His eye patch was crooked, his face smeared with soot and sweat. “We have the sword. We should—”

“Yes, yes,” the Titan said impatiently. “You’ve done well, Nawaka.”

To his credit, he tried not to look too offended. “It’s Nakamura, master.”

“Whatever. I’m sure my brother Kronos will reward you. But now we have killing to attend to.”

“My lord,” Ethan persisted. “You’re not at full power. We should ascend and summon your brothers from the upper world. Our orders were to flee.”

The Titan whirled on him. “FLEE? Did you say FLEE?”

The ground rumbled. Ethan fell on his butt and scrambled backward. The unfinished sword of Hades clattered to the rocks. “M- m- master, please—”

“IAPETUS DOES NOT FLEE! I have waited three eons to be summoned from the pit. I want revenge, and I will start by killing these weaklings!”

He leveled his spear at me and charged.

If he’d been at full strength, I had no doubt he would’ve pierced me right through the middle. Even weakened and just out of the pit, the guy was fast. He moved like a tornado, slashing so quickly I barely had time to dodge the strike before his spear impaled the rock where I’d been standing.

I was so dizzy I could barely hold my swords. Iapetus yanked the spear out of the ground, but as he turned to face me, Thalia shot his flank full of arrows, from his shoulder to his knee. He roared and turned on her, looking more angry than wounded. Ethan Nakamura tried to draw his own sword, but Nico yelled, “I don’t think so!”

The ground erupted in front of Ethan. Three armored skeletons climbed out and engaged him, pushing him back. The sword of Hades still lay on the rocks. If I could only get to it… 

Iapetus slashed with his spear and Thalia leaped out of the way. She dropped her bow so she could draw her knives, but she wouldn’t last long in close combat, after a year as the lieutenant of the Hunters of Artemis, it was obvious Thalia’s skill had shifted in favor of a bow and arrows.

Nico left Ethan to the skeletons and charged Iapetus. I was already ahead of him. It felt like my shoulder was going to tear free from the rest of my body, but I lunged myself at the Titan and stabbed downward with Riptide, impaling the blade in the Titan’s calf.

“AHHHH!” Golden ichor gushed from the wound. Iapetus whirled and the shaft of his spear slammed into me, sending me flying.

I crashed into the rocks, right next to the River Lethe.

“YOU DIE FIRST, DAUGHTER OF POSEIDON!” Iapetus roared as he hobbled toward me. 

Thalia tried to get his attention by zapping him with an arc of electricity from her knives, but she might as well have been an annoying bee. Nico stabbed with his sword, but Iapetus knocked him aside without even looking.

“I will kill you all! Then I will cast your souls into the eternal darkness of Tartarus!”

My eyes were full of spots. I could barely move. Another inch and I would fall into the river headfirst.

The river… 

I swallowed, hoping my voice still worked. “You’re— you’re even uglier than your son,” I taunted the Titan, barely able to keep the power in the words. “I can see where Atlas gets his stupidity from. Maybe if he’d been smarter, he wouldn’t have been tricked into holding the sky again.”

Iapetus snarled. He limped forward, raising his spear.

I didn’t know if I would have the strength, but I knew I had to try. Iapetus brought down the spear and I lurched sideways. The shaft impaled the ground right next to me. I reached up and grabbed his shirt collar, counting on the fact that he was off balance as well as hurt. He tried to regain his footing, but I pulled him forward with all my body weight. 

He stumbled and fell, grabbing my arms in a panic, and together we pitched into the Lethe.

—

Unlike the last time, panic did not overwhelm me. 

The pain in my shoulder still made it difficult to concentrate, but I felt more connected to the water than the previous dunk. The tips of my fingers tingled once more. 

I still had the Titan by the shirt collar and still knew my name. That was all that mattered. 

The current should’ve ripped him out of my hands, but somehow the river was channeling itself around me, leaving us alone.

With my last bit of strength, I climbed out of the river, dragging Iapetus with my good arm. We collapsed on the riverbank— me perfectly dry, the Titan dripping wet. His pure silver eyes were as big as moons.

Thalia and Nico stood over me in amazement. Up by the cave, Ethan Nakamura was just cutting down the last skeleton. He turned and froze when he saw his Titan ally spread-eagle on the ground, with me crouched above him. The sight should have been familiar to him. 

“My— my lord?” he called.

Iapetus sat up and stared at him. Then he looked at me and smiled. “Hello,” he said. “Who am I?”

Without thinking, I blurted out, “You’re my friend!” I forced a smile onto my face and tried to ignore the incredulous looks on the faces of the demigods around me. “You’re… Bob.”

That seemed to please him greatly. “I am your friend Bob!”

Clearly, Ethan could tell things were not going his way. He glanced at the sword of Hades lying in the dirt, but before he could lunge for it, a silver arrow sprouted in the ground at his feet.

“Not today, kid,” Thalia warned. “One more step and I’ll pin your feet to the rocks. And trust me, I’m not as merciful to traitorous demigods as Ms. Moviestar seems to be.”

Ethan ran— straight into the cave of Melinoe. Another coward’s decision. 

Thalia took aim at his back, but I said, “No. Let him go.”

She frowned but lowered her bow.

I wasn’t sure why I wanted to spare Ethan again. I wanted to say it was because we’d had enough fighting for one day, and I didn’t want anymore death to follow us. In truth, though, I felt sorry for the kid. He would be in enough trouble when he reported back to Kronos. There would be plenty more on his plate than we could deal. 

Nico picked up the sword of Hades reverently, his eyes practically glazed over. “We did it. We actually did it.”

“We did?” Iapetus asked.

I managed a weak smile and an even weaker nod. 

His wide eyes looked up at me imploringly. It was almost like a child asking for sweets. “Did I help?”

I placed a hand on his arm. “Yeah, Bob. You did great.”

—

We got an express ride back to the palace of Hades. Nico sent word ahead, thanks to some ghost he’d summoned out of the ground, and within a few minutes the Three Furies themselves arrived to ferry us back. They weren’t thrilled about lugging Bob the Titan too, but I didn’t have the heart to leave him behind, especially after he noticed my shoulder wound, said, “Owie,” and healed it with a touch.

Anyway, by the time we arrived in the throne room of Hades, I was feeling great and ready to make a deal with the Devil. 

The lord of the dead sat on his throne of bones, glowering at us and stroking his black beard like he was contemplating the best way to torture us. Persephone sat next to him, not saying a word, as Nico explained our adventure to him.

Before we gave back the sword, I insisted that Hades take an oath not to use it against the gods. His eyes flared like he wanted to incinerate me, but finally he made the promise through clenched teeth. I made sure to word the vow in a way that would make the sword essentially useless for anything other than continuing the work that the Key of Hades had already been doing. He seemed even less pleased by that.

Nico laid the sword at his father’s feet and bowed, waiting for a reaction. Hades looked at his wife. “You defied my direct orders.”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about, but Persephone didn’t react, not a single twitch in her expression, even under his withering gaze. Hades turned back to Nico. 

His gaze softened just a little, like rock soft rather than steel. “You will speak of this to no one.”

“Yes, lord,” Nico agreed.

The god glared at me.

“And if your friends do not hold their tongues, I will cut them out.”

“You’re welcome,” I said. Then, with a bit more than a little scorn, "Uncle." 

Hades stared at the sword. His eyes were full of anger and something else— something like hunger. He snapped his fingers. The Furies fluttered down from the top of his throne.

“Return the blade to the forges,” he told them. “Stay with the smiths until it is finished, and then return it to me.”

The Furies swirled into the air with the weapon, and I wondered how soon I would be regretting this day. There were ways around oaths, and I imagined Hades would be looking for one, no matter how airtight I made it.

“You are wise, my lord,” Persephone simpered.

“If I were wise,” he growled, “I would lock you in your chambers. If you ever disobey me again—”

He let the threat hang in the air. Then he snapped his fingers and vanished into darkness.

Persephone looked even paler than usual. She took a moment to smooth her dress, then turned toward us, her expression schooled. “You have done well, demigods.” She waved her hand and three red roses appeared at our feet. “Crush these, and they will return you to the world of the living. You have my lord’s thanks.”

“I could tell,” Thalia muttered.

But I was on an entirely different plane of thinking. “Making the sword was your idea,” I realized. “That’s why Hades wasn’t there when you gave us the quest. Hades didn’t know the sword was missing, because he didn’t even know it existed.”

“Nonsense,” the goddess said airily, but I finally found the crack in her otherwise neutral exterior. She looked frightened at my figuring it out. 

Nico clenched his fists. “Wait… Allie’s right. You wanted Hades to make a sword. He told you no. He knew it was too dangerous. The other gods would never trust him. It would undo the balance of power.”

“Then it got stolen,” Thalia continued. “You shut down the Underworld, not Hades. You couldn’t tell him what had happened. And you needed us to get the sword back before Hades found out. You used us.”

Persephone moistened her lips. “The important thing is that Hades has now accepted the sword. He will have it finished, and my husband will become as powerful as Zeus or Poseidon. Our realm will be protected against Kronos… or any others who try to threaten us.”

“And we’re responsible,” I said miserably. Even as I agreed that I would still prefer the sword in the possession of Hades over Kronos, I couldn’t say that it was too much of a win. 

“You’ve been very helpful,” Persephone agreed. “Perhaps a reward for your silence—”

“Get the fuck out,” I demanded, “before I carry you down to the Lethe and throw you in myself. Bob will help me. Won’t you, Bob?”

“Bob will help you!” Iapetus agreed cheerfully.

Persephone’s eyes widened, and she disappeared in a shower of daisies. Nico, Thalia, and I said our good-byes on a balcony overlooking Asphodel. Bob the Titan sat inside, building a toy house out of bones and laughing every time it collapsed.

“I’ll watch him,” Nico told me. “He’s harmless now. Maybe… I don’t know. Maybe we can retrain him to do something good. It would be nice to have a Titan on our side given… what’s coming.”

I nodded. “I don’t know if I would want him out fighting in case he sees one of his brothers and remembers who he is, but… You might be right,” I replied. “Are you sure you want to stay here? Persephone will make your life miserable.” 

“I have to,” he insisted. “I have to get close to my dad. He needs a better adviser.” 

I couldn’t argue with that. “Well, if you need anything—” 

“I’ll call,” he promised. He shook hands with Thalia and me. He turned to leave, but he looked at me one more time. “Allie, you haven’t forgotten my offer?” 

A shiver went down my spine. I bit the inside of my cheek as I answered vaguely, “I’m still thinking about it.” 

Nico nodded. “Well, whenever you’re ready.” 

After he was gone, Thalia said, “What offer?” 

“Something he told me last summer,” I said, waving her off in a way that I hoped wasn’t obviously uncomfortable. “Just… a possible way to fight Kronos. But it’s crazy dangerous and even more insane. I don’t want to think about it right now. I’ve had enough danger for one day.” 

Thalia nodded. “Fair,” she replied. “Hey, at least you don’t have to call in a favor to Apollo, right? You up for dinner?” 

I couldn’t help but smile. “After all that, you’re hungry?” 

“Hey,” she said, “even immortals have to eat. I’m thinking cheeseburgers at… 4 Charles?” 

I snorted. “We don’t have reservations for 4 Charles, how are you expecting to get in?” 

She raised an eyebrow at me. “You, Allie Jackson, world-famous A-List actress, singer, model, broadway star, etc., etc. can’t just walk into exclusive restaurants whenever she wants? Literally what is your fame for, if not that?” 

I sighed. “Let me make a phone call,” I said begrudgingly. 

And together we crushed the roses that would return us to the world. 

—

The cold nipped at my nose the second my feet were back on snow-covered ground. 

“You do realize that this won’t work every time, right?” I asked Thalia once I could tell she’d regained her bearings. “I can’t just make restaurants cancel other people’s reservations just because you want a Wagyu hamburger.” 

Thalia shrugged. “Then I ask again, what exactly is your fame even good for in that case?” 

I tossed her a look as I powered my phone back on. It had been completely off since I’d followed after Mrs. O’Leary. I knew Danny would be pissed that I’d flaked out on a day I was supposed to be on set, so I’d decided to cross that bridge… later. 

“Okay, well, first of all, the whole ‘fame’ thing was just a side effect of my job, not something that— oh shit. Oh, fuck, I’m so fucking dead.” 

Thalia stopped and turned from where she’d been surveying the area. “What?” When I didn’t answer immediately, she speed-walked over to me to look at my phone screen herself. “Allie, what?” 

I read from my phone, “‘38 missed calls from fuckass danny, 72 messages from fuckass danny’.” 

“Jesus, Moviestar,” Thalia said. 

“It gets worse,” I told her. 

Her eyes widened. “What’s worse than your manager?” She squinted her eyes at the screen, my lockscreen a picture of the New York skyline that I took years ago. “‘One missed call from babe.’ Woah, who’s babe? Hold on, is that a fucking ‘less than three’ heart? Who the hell is babe <3?” 

I closed my eyes, as though coming to terms with how numbered my hours were. “It’s Luke.”

“Allie— wait. Only… one missed call?” 

I nodded silently. 

“Oh, you’re fucked.”

*    *    *

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2.1 Fall in Love. Fall in Love Again and Again, Fall in Love Again and Again, Fall in Love Again and Again, Fall in Love Again and Again, Fall—

Luke

At first, I thought I’d hit such a point of no return that I’d begun to hallucinate Allie’s face. 

As the roof of the cavern collapsed, sunlight blinded me. I got the briefest glimpse of the Argo II hovering above. It must have used its ballistae to blast a hole straight through the ground.

Chunks of asphalt as big as garage doors tumbled down, along with six or seven Italian cars. One would've crushed the Athena Parthenos, but the statue's glowing aura acted like a force field, and the car bounced off. Unfortunately, it fell straight toward me.

I jumped to one side, twisting my bad leg. A wave of agony almost made me pass out, but I flipped on my back in time to see a bright red Fiat 500 slam into Arachne's silk trap, punching through the cavern floor and disappearing with the Chinese Spidercuffs.

As Arachne fell, she screamed like a freight train on a collision course, but her wailing rapidly faded. All around Malcolm and me, more chunks of debris slammed through the floor, riddling it with holes.

The Athena Parthenos remained undamaged, though the marble under its pedestal was a starburst of fractures. I was covered in cobwebs. I trailed strands of leftover spider silk from my arms and legs like the strings of a marionette, but somehow, amazingly, none of the debris had hit us.

Malcolm laughed out of sheer shock.

The army of spiders had disappeared. Either they had fled back into the darkness, or they'd fallen into the chasm. As daylight flooded the cavern, Arachne's tapestries along the walls crumbled to dust, which I could hardly bear to watch— especially the tapestry depicting me and Allie.

But none of that mattered when I heard Allie's voice from above: "Luke!"

"Here!" I yelled. “I’m here, Angel!” 

Her voice was a balm on every bit of torture I’d endured over the past hours. All the terror seemed to leave me in one massive yelp. As the Argo II descended, I saw Allie leaning over the rail, silky white curls billowing behind her. Her smile was better than any tapestry I'd ever seen, and she was prettier than any goddess.

The room kept shaking, but I managed to stand. The floor at my feet seemed stable for the moment. Both mine and Malcolm’s backpacks were missing, along with Daedalus's laptop. My sword, which I'd had since my first day at camp, was also gone— probably fallen into the pit. But I didn't care. I was alive. And Allie was there. 

I edged closer to the gaping hole made by the Fiat 500. Jagged rock walls plunged into the darkness as far as I could see. A few small ledges jutted out here and there, but I saw nothing on them— just strands of spider silk dripping over the sides like Christmas tinsel.

I wondered if Arachne had told the truth about the chasm. Had the spider fallen all the way to Tartarus? My gut impulse was to say yes— it felt just as it had when I’d almost been pulled in a few years prior. A small part of me felt upset to have seen her tapestries fall with her, but I couldn’t help but feel vindicated. The terror she’d put Malcolm and I through, Tartarus was where she belonged. 

I was dimly aware of the Argo II hovering to a stop about forty feet from the floor. It lowered a rope ladder, but I stood in a daze, staring into the darkness. Then suddenly Allie was next to me, lacing her fingers in mine.

She gave a contemplative look over the edge of the chasm, then turned me gently away from it. As soon as we were on steady ground, she wrapped her arms around me. I buried my face in her hair and broke down in tears.

"It's okay," she said, her voice breathless and melodic. "We're together, Baby. I love you."

She didn't say you're okay, or we're alive. After all we'd been through over the last year, she knew the most important thing was that we were together. I loved her for saying that, and told her that with my lips pressed to her ear.

Our friends gathered around us. Nico di Angelo was there, but my thoughts were so fuzzy, that didn't seem surprising to me. It seemed only right that he would be with us.

"Your legs." Piper knelt next to Malcolm and examined the Bubble Wrap cast. "Oh, gods, what happened?"

Malcolm and I started to explain. Talking was difficult, but as we went along, the words came more easily.

Allie’s hand stayed on the back of my head, her thumb rubbing soothing circles there, which also made me feel more confident. When we finished, our friends' faces were slack with amazement.

"Gods of Olympus," Jason said. "You did all that. With a broken ankle and a torn ACL."

"Well… some of it with a torn ACL."

Allie grinned. "You made Arachne weave her own trap? I knew you two were good, but holy fuck— Luke, Malcolm, you did it. Generations of Athena and Hermes kids tried and failed. You found the Athena Parthenos!"

Everyone gazed at the statue. 

"What do we do with her?" Frank asked. "She's huge."

"We'll have to take her with us to Greece," I said. "The statue is powerful. Something about it will help us stop the giants."

"’The giants' bane stands gold and pale’," Hazel quoted. "’Won with pain from a woven jail’." She looked at me with admiration. "It was Arachne's jail. You tricked her into weaving it."

With a lot of pain, I thought.

Leo raised his hands. He made a finger picture frame around the Athena Parthenos like he was taking measurements. "Well, it might take some rearranging, but I think we can fit her through the bay doors in the stable. If she sticks out the end, I might have to wrap a flag around her feet or something."

I shuddered. I imagined the Athena Parthenos jutting from their trireme with a sign across her pedestal that read: WIDE LOAD.

Then I thought about the other lines of the prophecy: The twins snuff out the angel's breath, who holds the keys to endless death.

"What about you guys?" I asked. "What happened with the giants?"

Allie told me about rescuing Nico, the appearance of Bacchus, and the fight with the twins in the Colosseum. Nico didn't say much. The poor guy looked like he'd been wandering through a wasteland for six weeks. Allie’s expression was oddly blank as she explained what Nico had found out about the Doors of Death, and how they had to be closed on both sides. Even with sunlight streaming in from above, her news made the cavern seem dark again.

I nodded. "So the mortal side is in Epirus," I said. "At least that's somewhere we can reach."

Nico grimaced. "But the other side is the problem. Tartarus."

The word seemed to echo through the chamber. The pit behind us exhaled a cold blast of air.

That's when I knew with certainty. The chasm did go straight to the Underworld.

Allie must have felt it too. She swallowed harshly, then guided me a little farther from the edge. I wished I had my sword to cut that spider silk off. I almost asked Allie to do the honors with Riptide or Shaker, but before I could, she said, "Bacchus mentioned something about my voyage being harder than I expected. Not sure what the hell he was on abou—"

The chamber groaned. The Athena Parthenos tilted to one side. Its head caught on one of Arachne's support cables, but the marble foundation under the pedestal was crumbling.

Nausea swelled in my chest. If the statue fell into the chasm, all our work would be for nothing.

Our quest would fail.

"Secure it!" Malcolm cried.

My friends understood immediately.

"Zhang!" Leo cried. "Get me to the helm, quick! The coach is up there alone."

Frank transformed into a giant eagle, and the two of them soared toward the ship.

Jason wrapped his arm around Piper and grabbed Malcolm by the wrist. 

He turned to Allie. "Back for you guys in a sec." He summoned the wind and shot into the air.

"This floor won't last!" Hazel warned. "The rest of us should get to the ladder."

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from holes in the floor. The spider's silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder and gestured for Nico to follow, but Nico was in no condition to sprint.

Allie released a shaky breath, her eyes darting around like she was trying to figure out where she would need to jump if the floor started falling through. "It'll be fine," she muttered, her nails digging into the back of my hand. “Just stay still. We’ll be alright.”

Looking up, I saw grappling lines shoot from the Argo II and wrap around the statue. One lassoed Athena's neck like a noose. Leo shouted orders from the helm as Jason and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had just reached the ladder when a sharp pain shot up my bad leg. I gasped and stumbled.

"What is it?" Allie asked frantically, her entire body jerking in a way that I didn’t realize was due to me until it was too late.

I tried to stagger toward the ladder. Why was I moving backward instead? My legs swept out from under me and I caught myself on my arms, Allie’s hand falling from mine.

"His ankle!" Hazel shouted from the ladder. "Cut it! Cut it!"

My mind was woolly from the pain. Cut my ankle?

Apparently, Allie didn't realize what Hazel meant either until a tenth of a second too late. Shaker was drawn out of impulse, but something yanked me backward and dragged me toward the pit. Allie lunged, and I could tell from the panic on her face and the way she flung her sword to the side that all she cared about was grabbing a hold of me. 

There were a few certain truths in the world: death, taxes, and the innate stubbornness that resided in Allie Jackson. Unfortunately, no matter how strong and beautifully stubborn she was, her thin stature was no match for gravity. Even if I hadn’t been getting dragged, my momentum would have carried her regardless, the second she grabbed my arms.

"Help them!" Hazel screamed.

I glimpsed Nico hobbling in our direction, Hazel trying to disentangle her cavalry sword from the rope ladder. Our other friends were still focused on the statue, and Hazel's cry was lost in the general shouting and the rumbling of the cavern. Allie’s beautiful face was scrunched up in her struggle to fight against the pull, the sun above casting a golden halo around her. I’d always called her my angel— and she’d saved me from certain death enough times to fit the nickname to fit a hundred times over— but it was something else to see it in action. 

But she couldn’t find anything to stop the pull of Tartarus. With another jerk, the two of us were sliding closer to the edge. 

I cussed as I hit the edge of the pit. My legs went over the side. Too late, I realized what was happening: I was tangled in the spider silk. I should have cut it away immediately. I had thought it was just a loose line, but with the entire floor covered in cobwebs, I hadn't noticed that one of the strands was wrapped around my foot— and the other end went straight into the pit. It was attached to something heavy down in the darkness, something that was pulling me in.

"No," Allie muttered, light dawning in her eyes. "My sword…"

But Shaker had landed out of reach. Riptide hung in necklace form around her neck, as always, but she couldn’t summon the sword without letting go of my arm. My strength was gone. Her pretty sea green eyes searched frantically for something that might help us, but there was nothing.

I slipped over the edge. 

Allie fell with me. 

I heard her scream as she lost the ground. 

My body slammed into something. I must have blacked out briefly from the pain. When I could see again, I realized that I'd fallen partway into the pit and was dangling over the void. 

Allie had managed to dig her nails into a ledge about fifteen feet below the top of the chasm. She was holding on with one hand, gripping my wrist with the other with every bit of strength in her body, but the pull on my leg was much too strong and Allie may have been tall, but she was tiny. She wouldn't be able to fight gravity for long. 

She snarled like an animal for a moment, trying to use her feet to kick through the rock and make a foothold to lessen the pressure on her body, but the wall wouldn’t give. I heard her panting through the exertion as she came to the realization that it wasn’t working. 

“No,” she mumbled, mostly to herself. “Fuck, please, no.” 

No escape, said a voice in the darkness below. I go to Tartarus, and you will come too.

I wasn't sure if I actually heard Arachne's voice or if it was just in my mind.

The pit shook. Allie was the only thing keeping me from falling. She was barely holding on to a ledge the size of a bookshelf, and I was positive if she didn't have the curse of Achilles, her shoulder would've been dislocated and all of her fingers torn and broken.

Nico leaned over the edge of the chasm, thrusting out his hand, but he was much too far away to help. Hazel was yelling for the others, but even if they heard her over all the chaos, they'd never make it in time.

My leg felt like it was pulling free of my body. Pain washed everything in red. The force of the Underworld tugged at me like dark gravity. I didn't have the strength to fight. I knew I was too far down to be saved.

Unlike the other instance we’d been on the edge of the pit, she hadn’t caught up to me in time. We’d fallen.

"Allie… My Angel, let me go," I croaked, trying (and failing) to keep my voice strong for her sake. "You can't pull us both up."

I wasn't even holding onto her anymore. Her grip on my wrist was the only thing keeping me from falling to my death. Her nails had dug into my skin so hard, it drew blood in shaky streaks from my elbow to my wrist from when we’d fallen. She was holding onto me by a sheer force of will that Allie Jackson alone was able to procure. 

“I have to,” she shot back, her voice shattered. “We can’t just…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but I knew how she wanted to end it: fall. Her face was white with effort. I could see in her eyes that she knew it was hopeless. Tears streamed down her beautiful, perfect face. 

“We both will if you don’t let me go,” I told her, and I had to grit my teeth to keep from yelping at another pull to my bad leg. “Angel, be selfish for once. Save yourself.” 

"Never," she said, sounding like her heart was breaking, the one thing I promised myself I'd never do to her. Then she was back to whispering to herself, “Fuck, fuck, godsdamn it all.” 

Her feet scratched at the wall to get some kind of ledge, but there was nothing big enough for her to get a grip on. She let out another expletive, shouting it this time, and kicked the wall hard enough for me to assume she would have broken her toes if she hadn’t had the Curse of Achilles. We swung dangerously from the force of her kick, but she just held on to the ledge and I even tighter. 

For a moment, Allie just let herself hang there, still squeezing my wrist hard enough to bruise. I wouldn’t be getting away from her if she had anything to say about it. She was still panting from the exertion, before her expression smoothed. She nodded to herself slowly. It was almost unsettling, the way the panic and dire fury melted away. She almost looked peaceful. 

That worried me more than the rage. 

Allie’s head shot up, so she could look up directly at Nico, fifteen feet above. "The other side, Nico! We'll see you there. Do you understand?"

Nico's eyes widened. "But—"

"Lead them there!" Allie shouted desperately, trying again to get a foothold, but not able to find one. "Promise me!" When he hesitated, Allie’s voice got louder, more frantic. “Now, Nico! You will bring them there! Promise me.”

"I— I will." I could see panic settling on his face. “I swear on the Styx, Allie, I will bring them to the other side of the doors.”

Below us, the voice laughed in the darkness. Sacrifices. Beautiful sacrifices to wake the goddess.

Allie tightened her grip on my wrist, even though I wasn’t sure where she was pulling the strength from. Her face was gaunt, tear-stained and covered in dust, her hair frizzy and wild, but when she locked eyes with me, I thought she had never looked more gorgeous.

“Angel—”

"We're staying together, Babe," she promised, her voice quiet enough for only me to hear. There was still the underlying terror there, but it was as smooth and melodic as it always was. "We’ll do this quest together, yeah? Just like old times?”

Only then did I understand what would happen, what Allie had meant. A one-way trip. A very hard fall.

But at least we’d be together.

"Just like old times," I repeated. “I don’t want to be away from you. Never again, Angel.”

More tears welled up in Allie’s eyes. “I don’t either,” she choked through a sob. “I love you.” Then, she repeated the phrase, quieter and quieter, like she suspected it might be the last time the words would leave her mouth. “I love you, I love you, I love you…”

I heard Nico and Hazel still screaming for help. I saw the sunlight far, far above— maybe the last sunlight I would ever see.

Allie leaned her head against the chasm wall as she sobbed. Her fingers were slipping, but even so, I was pretty sure the ledge was going to break if she didn't let go soon. 

Then, with a final sob of acceptance, and before she could second-guess herself, Allie let go of her tiny ledge, and together, holding hands, we fell into the endless darkness.

*    *    *

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2.0 The Major Storm Before the Violent Calamity

Allie

I had never thought of Mr. D as a calming influence (for plenty of good reasons and a couple of biased ones), but suddenly everything got quiet. The machines ground to a halt. The wild animals stopped growling.

The two leopards paced over— still licking their lips from Piper's pot roast— and butted their heads affectionately against the god's legs. Mr. D scratched their ears. It was only the (rare) moments like these where I remembered the god oversaw much of the untamed forces of nature. 

"Really, Ephialtes," he chided. "Killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That's over the line."

The giant made a squeaking sound. "This—  this is impossible. D- D—"

"It's Bacchus, actually, my old friend," said the god casually. "And of course it's possible. Someone told me there was a party going on."

He looked the same as he had in Kansas, but I still couldn't get over the differences between Bacchus and my old (… associate? Camp Chaperone? He definitely wasn’t a friend) Mr. D. Bacchus was meaner and leaner, with less of a potbelly and less… drunkard-looking. He had longer hair, more spring in his step, and a lot more anger in his eyes. He even managed to make a pinecone on a stick look intimidating.

Ephialtes's spear quivered. To his credit, he tried to sound brave. "You— you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!"

"Hmm." Bacchus sounded unimpressed. He strolled through the ruined props, platforms, and special effects. "Tacky." He waved his hand at a painted wooden gladiator, then turned to a machine that looked like an oversized rolling pin studded with knives. "Cheap. Boring. And this…" He inspected the rocket-launching contraption, which was still smoking. "Tacky, cheap, and boring. Honestly, Ephialtes. You have no sense of style."

“Agreed,” I mumbled, which was a surprise to me. For once, I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with Mr. D, with not a single argument to be found. Maybe we could turn a new leaf. 

"STYLE?" The giant's face flushed. "I have mountains of style. I define style. I— I—"

"My brother oozes style," Otis suggested.

"Thank you!" Ephialtes cried.

Bacchus stepped forward, and the giants stumbled back. "Have you two gotten shorter?" asked the god.

"Oh, that's low," Ephialtes growled. "I'm quite tall enough to destroy you, Bacchus! You gods, always hiding behind your mortal heroes, trusting the fate of Olympus to the likes of these."

He sneered at me. I wasn’t sure why I was the one getting his directed ire, but I chalked it up to having a better sense of style than Jason and Piper and a tad bit of jealousy. 

Jason hefted his sword. "Lord Bacchus, are we going to kill these giants or what?"

For just a moment, I could admire his determination. And his naivety. 

"Well, I certainly hope so," Bacchus said haughtily. "Please, carry on."

I stared at him, not even bothering to hide my irritation. "So you came to watch? Did you decide our little gift meant jack shit?"

“Allie,” Jason hissed beside me, obviously still not used to my lackadaisical efforts to remain respectful in the face of divinity. 

Bacchus shrugged. "Oh, I appreciated the sacrifice at sea. A whole ship full of Diet Coke. Very nice. Although I would've preferred Diet Pepsi."

Yeah, I take it back. The leaf is staying right where it has always been. "And six million in gold and jewels," I muttered. “I could have given that all to a charity. The recipients of whom would be far more appreciative.” 

"Yes," Bacchus said, "although with demigod parties of five or more the gratuity is included, so that wasn't necessary."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Never mind," Bacchus said airily. "At any rate, you got my attention. I'm here. Now I need to see if you're worthy of my help. Go ahead. Battle. If I'm impressed, I'll jump in for the, ah, grand finale."

"We speared one," I said. "Dropped the roof on the other. What do you consider impressive?"

"Ah, a good question…" Bacchus tapped his thyrsus. Then he smiled in a way that made me think, oh, fuck. "Should you not have an idea, Allie Jackson? You’ve put on plenty of shows! Perhaps you need inspiration! The stage hasn't been properly set. You call this a spectacle, Ephialtes? Let me show you how it's done."

The god dissolved into purple mist. Piper and Nico disappeared.

"Pipes!" Jason yelled. "Bacchus, where did you—?"

The entire floor rumbled and began to rise. The ceiling opened in a series of panels. Sunlight poured in. The air shimmered like a mirage, and I heard the roar of a crowd above me.

The hypogeum ascended through a forest of weathered stone columns, into the middle of a ruined coliseum.

My heart did a somersault. This wasn't just any coliseum. It was the Colosseum. The giants' special effects machines had gone into overtime, laying planks across ruined support beams so the arena had a proper floor again. The bleachers repaired themselves until they were gleaming white. A giant red-and-gold canopy extended overhead to provide shade from the afternoon sun. The emperor's box was draped with silk, flanked by banners and golden eagles. The roar of applause came from thousands of shimmering purple ghosts, the Lares of Rome brought back for an encore performance. 

I had never experienced stage fright. A sold out show in front of thousands? That was nothing. I’d had a camera in my face since I was two. But that? I’d never truly thought about what it might have been like for a gladiator to enter this arena thousands of years ago, but… 

Vents opened in the floor and sprayed sand across the arena. Huge props sprang up— garage-size mountains of plaster, stone columns, and (for some reason) life-size plastic barnyard animals. A small lake appeared to one side. Ditches crisscrossed the arena floor in case anyone was in the mood for trench warfare. Me and Jason stood together facing the twin giants.

"This is a proper show!" boomed the voice of Bacchus. He sat in the emperor's box wearing purple robes and golden laurels. At his left sat Nico and Piper, her shoulder being tended by a nymph in a nurse's uniform. At Bacchus's right crouched a satyr, offering up Doritos and grapes.

The god raised a can of Diet Pepsi and the crowd went respectfully quiet.

I glared up at him. "You're just going to sit there?"

"The demigoddess is right!" Ephialtes bellowed. "Fight us yourself, coward! Um, without the demigods."

Bacchus smiled lazily. "Juno says she's assembled a worthy crew of demigods. Show me. Entertain me, heroes of Olympus. Give me a reason to do more. Being a god has its… privileges. You could have learned of them, Sea Princess. Perhaps you yet will." He paused as my heart leapt into my throat. “Let’s get this party started!” 

He popped his soda can top, and the crowd roared.

*    *    * 

I had fought many battles. I'd even fought in a couple of arenas that were modeled somewhat like the Colosseum, but nothing like that.

In the huge Colosseum, with thousands of cheering ghosts, the god Bacchus staring down at me, and the two twelve-foot giants looming over me, I felt as small and insignificant as a bug. But more than that, I also felt very angry.

Fighting giants was one thing. Bacchus making it into a game was something else.

I remembered what Annabeth Chase had told me years ago, when I had come back from my very first quest: The gods don’t fight fair. They’re all so arrogant. They think we’re so far beneath them. Just little pawns to be used in their games, in their petty arguments. They never think we’ll have the guts to do something about it when we get tired of being used.

And Cody Wentz, Luke’s brother… Didn't you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics, being pawns of the gods. They should've been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they've hung on, thanks to us half-bloods, he’d said. Then, later, You let yourself become the gods’ pawn in a war you had nothing to do with.

I had always told myself I couldn’t allow myself to stoop to their beliefs. No matter what, I had to understand that what I was doing was in the best interests of the world, and of the half-bloods that I called my family. But…

I couldn’t deny, not even to myself, that I was beginning to truly understand how they’d become so spiteful. Cody hadn’t been wrong— I had allowed myself to become a pawn. Not just in stopping the almost-war between Zeus and Poseidon when I first learned of my lineage, but in nearly everything that pertained to the gods afterward. The Olympians seemed to take turns using me for their schemes.

It didn’t make me feel any better that Bacchus had sort of been right. I had been given the path to unlimited privileges. More than that, I had been offered freedom from pawn-hood. The gift had been placed readily in my open palms, and I’d tossed it unceremoniously to the ground. In my defense, it had been in pursuit of a far nobler, far more important cause, but that didn’t mean I hadn’t been given a choice. 

There had been times afterward, before my kidnapping by Hera, when I thought about Zeus offering to make me a goddess. Not a single Olympian had opposed it. Not Ares, not Athena, not Dionysus himself. I’d chalked it up to them not wanting to anger Poseidon after he’d saved the day, but… I also knew that didn’t make a ton of sense. 

I wondered if maybe the offer hadn’t been the freedom from being a pawn that I’d originally thought it was. If it had been their chance to make me a tool… permanently. 

A shiver ran through my body before I could suppress it. And what had Bacchus meant by still having a chance at godhood? I had denied it, that had been the end of that particular story. If there was one thing I knew for certain, it was that Zeus would never be so prideless as to offer it to me again. According to Hera, he was already still butthurt at my first denial. 

But that was the point, wasn’t it? No matter how hard I tried, I would never actually be able to understand the gods’ true motives, because no matter what Bacchus thought, I would never be a goddess. I wouldn’t.

And maybe the gods were better than the Titans, or the giants, or Gaea, but that didn't make them good or wise. It certainly didn't make me like this stupid arena battle.

Unfortunately, like always, I didn't have much choice. If I was going to save my friends, I had to beat these giants. I had to survive and find Luke.

Ephialtes and Otis made my decision easier by attacking. Together, the giants picked up a fake mountain as big as my New York penthouse apartment and hurled it at us.

Me and Jason bolted. We dove together into the nearest trench and the mountain shattered above us, spraying us with plaster shrapnel. Jason hissed at the sting, but the pieces bounced harmlessly off of my iron skin.

The crowd jeered and shouted for blood. "Fight! Fight!"

"I'll take Otis again?" Jason called over the noise. "Or do you want him this time?"

I tried to think. Dividing was the natural course— fighting the giants one-on-one, but that hadn't worked so well last time. It dawned on me that we needed a different strategy.

The whole trip, I had felt so responsible for leading and protecting my friends. I was sure Jason felt the same way. We'd worked in small groups, hoping that would be safer. We'd fought as individuals, each demigod doing what he or she did best. But Hera had made us a team of seven for a reason. The few times me and Jason had worked together— summoning the storm at Fort Sumter, helping the Argo II escape the Pillars of Hercules, even filling the nymphaeum— I had felt more confident, better able to figure out problems, as if I'd been a Cyclops my whole life and suddenly woke up with two eyes.

I didn’t want to say it outloud, but it felt like it did when I fought with Thalia or Nico. Like I was fighting not with someone who knew every move I was going to make before I made it and responded accordingly, like Luke, but with someone who could compliment my powers when the situation needed a little bit… more. 

With a huff, I pulled out the pen holding my hair up and redid the French twist I’d put it in earlier in the day. For this to work, I didn’t want to be worried about my hair getting in my face during the fight, and the good thing about our crowd being ghosts was that none of them would recognize me. 

"We attack together," I said, my tone leaving no room for discussion. "Otis first, because he's weaker. Take him out quickly and move to Ephialtes. Bronze, silver, and gold together— maybe that'll keep them from re-forming a little longer."

Jason smiled dryly, like he'd just found out he would die in an embarrassing way.

"Why not?" he agreed. "But Ephialtes isn't going to stand there and wait while we kill his brother. Unless—"

"Good wind today," I offered. "And I can feel the water pipes running under the arena."

Jason understood immediately. He laughed, and I felt that maybe we could work as a better team than I had originally thought. This guy thought the same way I did about a lot of things.

"On three?" Jason said.

"Why wait?"

We charged out of the trench. As I suspected, the twins had lifted another plaster mountain, this one only marginally smaller than the first, and were waiting for a clear shot. The giants raised it above their heads, preparing to throw, but before they could, I called upon the water in the pipes below to burst forth. 

As expected, there was an explosion of water at their feet, shaking the floor. Jason sent a blast of wind against Ephialtes' chest. The purple-haired giant toppled backward and Otis lost his grip on the mountain, which promptly collapsed on top of his brother. Only Ephialtes' snake feet stuck out, darting their heads around, as if wondering where the rest of their body had gone.

The crowd roared with approval, but I knew Ephialtes was only stunned. We had a few seconds at best.

"Hey, Otis!" I shouted. "The Nutcracker is way overrated!"

"Ahhhhh!" Otis snatched up his spear and threw, but he was too angry to aim straight. Jason deflected it over my head and into the lake.

We backed toward the water, goading the giant the entire way. Otis barreled toward us empty-handed, before apparently realizing that a) he was empty-handed, and b) charging toward a large body of water to fight the first mortal daughter of Poseidon was maybe not his best idea.

Too late, he tried to stop. We rolled to either side, and Jason summoned the wind, using the giant's own momentum to shove him into the water. As Otis struggled to rise, Jason and I attacked as one. We launched ourselves at the giant and brought our blades down on Otis's head. 

The poor guy didn't even have a chance to pirouette. He exploded into powder on the lake's surface like a huge packet of drink mix.

I churned the lake into a massive whirlpool, doing my best to keep as many pieces of the giant apart as I could. Otis' essence tried to re-form, but as his head appeared from the water, Jason called lightning and blasted him to dust again.

So far so good, but we wouldn’t be able to keep Otis down forever. I was still tired from my fight underground and mentally drained from having to leave Luke behind. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with a long winded fight, especially with one part of my consciousness forced to keep the whirlpool going. But we still had another giant to defeat. 

As if on cue, the plaster mountain exploded behind us. Ephialtes rose, bellowing with anger.

Jason and I waited as he lumbered toward us, his spear in hand. Apparently, getting flattened under a plaster mountain had only energized him. His eyes danced with murderous light. The afternoon sun glinted in his coin-braided hair. Even his snake feet looked angry, baring their fangs and hissing.

Jason called down another lightning strike, but Ephialtes caught it on his spear and deflected the blast, melting a life-size plastic cow. He slammed a stone column out of his way like a stack of building blocks.

As Ephialtes closed in, it became harder for me to keep the water churning. My only saving grace was my own stubborn power, and the water’s momentum. Jason and I met the giant's charge. We lunged around Ephialtes, stabbing and slashing in a blur of gold, silver, and bronze, but the giant parried every strike.

"I will not yield!" Ephialtes roared. "You may have ruined my spectacle, but Gaea will still destroy your world!"

I lashed out, slicing the giant's spear in half. Ephialtes wasn't even fazed. The giant swept low with the blunt end and knocked me off my feet. I landed hard on my right arm, and Riptide clattered out of my grip.

Jason tried to take advantage. He stepped inside the giant's guard and stabbed at his chest, but somehow Ephialtes parried the strike. He sliced the tip of his spear down Jason's chest, ripping his purple shirt into a vest. Jason stumbled, looking at the thin line of blood down his sternum. Ephialtes kicked him backward.

Up in the emperor's box, Piper cried out, but her voice was drowned in the roar of the crowd.

Ephialtes towered over I and Jason, both halves of his broken spear poised over our heads.

But Bacchus only looked on with an amused smile, munching from a bag of Doritos.

My temper flared. I felt my hands trembling and that could only mean one thing.

From the lake, Otis yelled, trying to warn his brother, but his half-dissolved face could only manage: "Uh-umh-moooo!"

"Don't worry, brother!" Ephialtes said, his eyes still fixed on me and Jason. "I will make them suffer!"

The Argo II turned in the sky, presenting its port side, and green fire blazed from the ballista, but we wouldn't need it.

Right on time, the floor cracked open from my earthquake and Ephialtes fell halfway through. I stopped the earthquake when his head stuck out. With newfound energy, I lunged at the giant and sliced his head in half with Riptide. 

I let him reform and pull himself out of the hole, but he was still disoriented. When he was trying to regain his bearings, I grabbed him with a water-hand and jumped to cut him in half. 

Me and Jason rolled away as Ephialtes bellowed in disbelief.

Just then, the Argo II was coming in for a landing. Jason poked his head out from behind his improvised shelter of a plastic horse. Ephialtes and Otis were floundering in the lake, trying to re-form, but from the arms down they looked like puddles of burnt oatmeal. 

I staggered over to Jason and clapped him on the shoulder. The ghostly crowd gave us a standing ovation as the Argo II extended its landing gear and settled on the arena floor. Leo stood at the helm, Hazel and Frank grinning at his side. Coach Hedge danced around the platform, pumping his fist in the air and yelling, "That's what I'm talking about!" and “Let me at ‘em!” 

I turned to the emperor's box. "Well?" I yelled at Bacchus. "Was that entertaining enough for you, you wine-breathed, conniving little cun—"

"No need for all that temper." Suddenly the god was standing right next to me in the arena. He brushed Dorito dust off his purple robes casually, despite my glare burning holes into his collar. "I have decided you are worthy partners for this combat."

"Partners?" Jason growled. "You did nothing!"

Bacchus walked to the edge of the lake. The water instantly drained, leaving an Ephialtes-and-Otis-headed pile of mush. Bacchus picked his way to the bottom and looked up at the crowd. He raised his thyrsus.

The crowd jeered and hollered and pointed their thumbs up. Historically, I’d heard that the Ancient Romans had actually used the thumbs up to show they wanted the defeated gladiator finished off and the thumbs down to indicate they wanted the victor’s sword sheathed and Hollywood had been the beast that had popularized the opposite. Though, to be fair, I was also pretty sure Hollywood had gone off of a painting that had done the same, and to be fair, I’d also heard that perhaps the Romans didn’t use a thumbs up or a thumbs down at all.  

Regardless, Bacchus chose the more entertaining option. He smacked Otis' head with his pinecone staff, and the giant pile of giant brothers disintegrated completely.

The crowd went wild. The ghosts cheered and threw spectral confetti as Bacchus strode around the stadium with his arms raised triumphantly, exulting in the worship. 

He grinned at us. "That, my friends, is a show! And of course, I did something. I killed two giants!"

As my friends disembarked from the ship, the crowd of ghosts shimmered and disappeared.

Piper and Nico struggled down from the emperor's box as the Colosseum's magical renovations began to turn into mist. The arena floor remained solid, but otherwise, the stadium looked as if it hadn't hosted a good giant killing for eons.

"Well," Bacchus said airily. "That was fun. You have my permission to continue your voyage."

"Your permission?" I snarled. “If I needed your permission for anything, I’d—”

"Yes." Bacchus raised an eyebrow. "Although your voyage may be a little harder than you expect, Daughter of Neptune."

"Poseidon," I corrected him automatically. "What do you mean about my voyage?"

"You might try the parking lot behind the Emmanuel Building," Bacchus said, looking at me like he was throwing me a bone. "Best place to break through. Now, good-bye, my friends. And, ah, good luck with that other little matter."

The god vaporized in a cloud of mist that smelled faintly of grape juice. Jason ran to meet Piper and Nico.

Coach Hedge trotted up to me, with Hazel, Frank, and Leo close behind. "Was that Dionysus?" Hedge asked. "I love that guy!"

"You're alive!" I said to the others. "The giants said you were captured. What happened?"

Leo shrugged. "Oh, just another brilliant plan by Leo Valdez. You'd be amazed what you can do with an Archimedes sphere, a girl who can sense stuff underground, and a weasel."

"I was the weasel," Frank said glumly. 

"Basically," Leo explained, "I activated a hydraulic screw with the Archimedes device— which is going to be awesome once I install it in the ship, by the way. Hazel sensed the easiest path to drill to the surface. We made a tunnel big enough for a weasel, and Frank climbed up with a simple transmitter that I slapped together. After that, it was just a matter of hacking into Coach Hedge's favorite satellite channels and telling him to bring the ship around to rescue us. After he got us, finding you was easy, thanks to that godly light show at the Colosseum."

I understood about twenty percent of Leo's story, but I decided it was enough since I had a more pressing question. "Where's Luke?" I paused, then winced. “Um, and Malcolm.”

Leo grimaced. "Yeah, about that… they’re still in trouble, we think. Both of them are hurt, broken legs, maybe— at least according to this vision Gaea showed us. Rescuing them is our next stop."

Two seconds before, I had been ready to collapse. Now another surge of adrenaline coursed through my body. I wanted to strangle Leo and demand why the Argo II hadn't sailed off to rescue Luke first, but I thought that might sound a little bratty and bitchy.

"Tell me about the vision," I commanded. "Tell me everything."

The floor shook. The wooden planks began to disappear, spilling sand into the pits of the hypogeum below.

I sighed. "Let's talk on board," I suggested. "We'd better take off while we still can because that one's not me."

We sailed out of the Colosseum and veered south over the rooftops of Rome.

All around the Piazza del Colosseo, traffic had come to a standstill. A crowd of mortals had gathered, probably wondering about the strange lights and sounds that had come from the ruins. As far as I could see, none of the giants' spectacular plans for destruction had come off successfully.

The city looked the same as before. No one seemed to notice the huge Greek trireme rising into the sky.

We gathered around the helm. Jason bandaged Piper's sprained shoulder while Hazel sat at the stern, feeding Nico ambrosia. The son of Hades could barely lift his head. His voice was so quiet, Hazel had to lean in whenever he spoke.

Frank and Leo recounted what had happened in the room with the Archimedes spheres, and the visions Gaea had shown them in the bronze mirror. We quickly decided that our best lead for finding Luke was the cryptic advice Bacchus had provided: the Emmanuel Building, whatever that was. 

Frank started typing at the helm's computer while Leo tapped furiously at his controls, muttering, "Emmanuel Building. Emmanuel Building." Coach Hedge tried to help by wrestling with an upside-down street map of Rome.

I knelt next to Jason and Piper. "How's the shoulder?"

Piper smiled. "It'll heal. Both of you did great."

Jason elbowed me. "Not a bad team, you and me."

"Same thing with your sister," I agreed. "I guess our father's children get along better than they do."

"There it is!" Leo cried, pointing to his monitor. "Frank, you're amazing! I'm setting course."

Frank hunched his shoulders. "I just read the name off the screen. Some Chinese tourist marked it on Google Maps."

Leo grinned at the others. "He reads Chinese."

"Just a tiny bit," Frank said bashfully.

"How cool is that?"

"Guys," Hazel broke in, a small smile playing on her face. "I hate to interrupt your admiration session, but you should hear this."

She helped Nico to his feet. He'd always been pale, but now his skin looked like powdered milk. His dark sunken eyes reminded me of photos I'd seen of liberated prisoners-of-war, which I guessed Nico basically was.

"Thank you," Nico rasped. His eyes darted nervously around at all of us. "I'd given up hope."

The past week or so, I had imagined a lot of scathing things I might say to Nico when we met again, but the guy looked so frail and sad, I couldn't muster up much anger. I’d wanted so badly to be pissed that he hadn’t told me who I was when he saw me in Rome, upset that he didn’t help me out— even a little— when all I’d ever tried to do since his sister had died was help him. My concern won out. 

"You knew about the two camps all along," I managed to say. "Nico, you could have told me who I was the first day I arrived at Camp Jupiter, but you didn't."

Nico slumped against the helm. "Allie, please, I'm sorry. I discovered Camp Jupiter last year. My dad led me there, though I wasn't sure why. He told me the gods had kept the camps separate for centuries and that I couldn't tell anyone. The time wasn't right. But he said it would be important for me to know…" He doubled over in a fit of coughing.

Hazel held his shoulders until he could stand again.

"I— I thought Dad meant because of Hazel," Nico continued wearily. "I'd need a safe place to take her. But now… I think he wanted me to know about both camps so I'd understand how important your quest was, and so I'd search for the Doors of Death."

The air turned electric— literally, as Jason started throwing off sparks. 

Nico looked so imploringly at me, so like a kicked puppy, that I had to turn away. I leaned against the railing and pulled out the pen holding my hair up out of its hold and put it in my pocket. The wind played with my hair as I tried to figure out what I wanted to say. 

"Did you find the doors?" was what finally came out of my mouth, and I twisted my rings around my fingers, still unable to look at the boy again.

Nico sighed. "Yes. But I was a fool. I thought I could go anywhere in the Underworld, but I walked right into Gaea's trap. I might as well have tried running from a black hole."

"Um…" Frank chewed his lip. "What kind of black hole are you talking about?"

Nico started to speak, but whatever he needed to say must have been too terrifying. He turned to Hazel.

She put her hand on her brother's arm. "Nico told me that the Doors of Death have two sides— one in the mortal world, one in the Underworld. The mortal side of the portal is in Greece. It's heavily guarded by Gaea's forces. That's where they brought Nico back into the upper world. Then they transported him to Rome."

Piper must've been nervous, because her cornucopia spit out a cheeseburger. "Where exactly in Greece is this doorway?"

Nico took a rattling breath. "The House of Hades. It's an underground temple in Epirus. I can mark it on a map, but— but the mortal side of the portal isn't the problem. In the Underworld, the Doors of Death are in… in…"

A cold chill ran down my spine.

A black hole. An inescapable part of the Underworld where even Nico di Angelo couldn't go. Why hadn't I thought of it before? I'd been to the very edge of that place. Luke had almost been dragged right in. I still had nightmares about it.

"Tartarus," I guessed, my voice going hollow. I finally mustered up the courage to look back at Nico and saw his violent wince. "The deepest part of the Underworld."

He nodded and swallowed hard, but he teared up like the thought was about to send him spiralling. "They pulled me into the pit. The things I saw down there, Allie…" His voice broke on my name.

Hazel pursed her lips. "No mortal has ever been to Tartarus," she explained. "At least, no one has ever gone in and returned alive. It's the maximum-security prison of Hades, where the old Titans and the other enemies of the gods are bound. It's where all monsters go when they die on the earth. It's… well, no one knows exactly what it's like."

Her eyes drifted to her brother. The rest of her thought didn't need to be spoken: No one except Nico. And we could all see what it had done to him, the Son of Hades himself. 

Hazel handed him his black sword.

Nico leaned on it like it was an old man's cane. "Now I understand why Hades hasn't been able to close the doors," he said. "Even the gods don't go into Tartarus. Even the god of death, Thanatos himself, wouldn't go near that place."

Leo glanced over from the wheel. "So let me guess. We'll have to go there?"

Nico shook his head. "There’s no way. It's impossible. I'm the son of Hades, and even I barely survived. Gaea's forces overwhelmed me instantly. They're so powerful down there… No demigod would stand a chance. I almost went insane."

Nico's eyes looked like shattered glass. I wondered sadly if something inside him had broken permanently. Not even Bianca’s death had broken him this hauntingly. 

"Then we'll sail for Epirus," I said. "Can we not just close the gates on this side?"

"I wish it were that easy," Nico told me. "The doors would have to be controlled on both sides to be closed. It's like a double seal. Maybe, just maybe, all seven of you working together could defeat Gaea's forces on the mortal side, at the House of Hades. But unless you had a team fighting simultaneously on the Tartarus side, a team powerful enough to defeat a legion of monsters in their home territory—"

"There has to be a way," Jason interrupted.

Nobody volunteered any brilliant ideas.

I thought my stomach was sinking. Then I realized the entire ship was descending toward a big building like a palace.

Luke. Nico's news was so horrible I had momentarily forgotten he was still in danger, which made me feel incredibly guilty.

I shook my head. "We'll figure out the Tartarus problem later," I said forcefully. "Is that the Emmanuel Building?"

Leo nodded. "Bacchus said something about the parking lot in back? Well, there it is. What now?"

I remembered my dream of the dark chamber, the evil buzzing voice of the monster called Her Ladyship. I remembered how shaken Luke and Malcolm had looked when they’d come back from Fort Sumter after their encounter with whatever it was. I had begun to suspect what might be down in that shrine… literally, the mother of all spiders. If I was right, and Malcolm and Luke had been trapped down there with that creature for hours, with unidentified bones of theirs broken… At a certain point, I didn't care if that stupid quest was supposed to be a duo or not.

"We have to get him out," I said.

"Well, yeah," Leo agreed. "But, uh…"

He looked like he wanted to say, What if we're too late?

Wisely, he didn’t say those exact words to me and changed tact. "There's a parking lot in the way."

I looked at Coach Hedge. "Bacchus said something about ‘breaking through’. I sort of stole your thunder, Coach. You still want to use that ammo from the ballistae?"

The satyr grinned like a wild goat. "I thought you'd never ask, Jackson."

*    *    *

previous | next

1.9 Dear Reader, If It Feels Like a Trap, You're Already In One

Luke

I wanted to say I’d faced Arachne head-on, no problems whatsoever. 

It would have made me a liar. 

Being entirely honest, the spider woman terrified me more than I’d ever care to admit. As the proclaimed ‘Camp Older Brother’, I’d killed more than a few spiders whenever one infiltrated the Athena Cabin’s carefully crafted defenses. Spiders weren’t my problem, though. Arachne was. 

I'd been assaulted by Roman ghosts. I'd torn my ACL. Malcolm and I had been chased across a chasm by an army of spiders. Now, in severe pain, with my leg wrapped in boards and Bubble Wrap, and carrying no weapon except my sword, I faced Arachne— a monstrous half-spider who wanted to kill me and Malcolm and make a commemorative tapestry about it. Oh, and another of my girlfriend's reaction to said death. 

There was only so much that a man could take. And, gods curse me for it, I really missed having Allie by my side. She always made me braver. 

Just the thought of her helped me. I had to make it back to her, had to be there to watch her back— her mortal point. I couldn’t succumb to panic, so instead, I forced myself to think. 

The monstrous creature picked her way down from the top of the web-covered statue. She moved from strand to strand, hissing with pleasure, her four eyes glittering in the dark. Either she was not in a hurry, or she was slow.

I hoped she was slow.

Not that it mattered. Neither Malcolm or I were in any condition to run, and I didn't like our chances in combat.

Arachne probably weighed several hundred pounds. Those barbed legs were perfect for capturing and killing prey. Besides, Arachne probably had other horrible powers— a poisonous bite, or web-slinging abilities like an Ancient Greek Spider-Man. Having a girlfriend who played a Marvel superhero on the big screen would do me no good there. Neither would combat. 

I needed a different answer.

That left trickery and brains. Perfect for a Hermes and Athena duo, normally. Not when said duo was terrified, injured, and moments from hitting a catatonic state.

In the old legends, Arachne had gotten into trouble because of pride. She'd bragged about her tapestries being better than Athena's, which had led to one of Mount Olympus's first reality TV punishment programs: So You Think You Can Weave Better Than a Goddess? Arachne had lost in a big way.

I tried thinking of the best tactic to use. Using her pride against her seemed to be the best way, if we could pull it off, but good, old-fashioned stalling might do the trick, too. 

I tried to keep my expression calm, which wasn't easy with an out-of-commission leg. I limped toward the nearest tapestry— Allie, sitting on the beach in front of her East Hampton beach house with the sun setting in the background. I almost teared up at how real and beautiful her depiction was. 

"Marvelous," I said, laying a little Hermes charm on thick. "Tell me about this tapestry."

Arachne's lips curled over her mandibles. "Why do you care, boy? You're about to die."

"Well, yes," I said casually, trying to ignore how Malcolm was clutching at his chest, trying to figure out how to breathe again. "But the way you captured the light is amazing. Did you use real golden thread for the sunbeams?"

The weaving truly was stunning. I was no weaver— Allie still had to guide my fingers every time I tried to dutifully braid her hair— but I didn't have to pretend to be impressed.

Arachne allowed herself a smug smile. "No, child. Not gold. I blended the colors, contrasting bright yellow with darker hues. That's what gives it a three-dimensional effect."

"Beautiful." My mind split into two different levels: one carrying on the conversation, the other madly grasping for a scheme to survive. Nothing came to me. Arachne had been beaten only once— by Athena herself, and that had taken godly magic and incredible skill in a weaving contest. 

"So…" I said. "How did you see this? Was it a vision or…?"

Arachne hissed, her mouth foaming in a not-very-attractive way. "You are trying to delay your death. It won't work."

"No, no," I insisted. "It just seems a shame that these beautiful tapestries can't be seen by everyone. They belong in a museum, or…"

"Or what?" Arachne asked.

My brain was working overtime. I’d never been too tapped into the trickster side of my father’s domains, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t ever. I had an idea, a crazy, completely suicidal idea if it didn’t work. But… Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. We were dead either way. 

I recalled seeing Allie on the set of multiple different shows and TV shows. Her best advice to aspiring actors was always to never over-act. It could lessen a performance more than you’d think. Sometimes less was more. I took a deep breath and smoothed my expression, imagining Allie by my side, coaching me through a few scenes for the music video she’d allowed me to be in. "Nothing." I sighed wistfully. "It was a passing thought. Something silly. Too bad."

Arachne scuttled down the statue until she was perched atop the goddess's shield. Even from that distance, I could smell the spider's stink, like an entire bakery full of pastries left to go bad for a month.

"What?" the spider pressed. "What silly thought?"

I had to force myself not to back away. Torn ACL or no, every nerve in my body pulsed with the need to defend myself. My demigod instincts to fight to the death weren’t used to being tampered down for so long, not with a huge monster-spider hovering over me.

"Oh… it's just that Malcolm was put in charge of redesigning Mount Olympus," I said flippantly. "You know, after the Titan War. He's completed most of the work, but he needs a lot of quality public art. The throne room of the gods, for instance… I was thinking your work would be perfect to display there. The Olympians could finally see how talented you are. But like I said, it was just a… silly thought."

Arachne's hairy abdomen quivered. Her four eyes glimmered as if she had a separate thought behind each and was trying to weave them into a coherent web. "You're redesigning Mount Olympus," she said to Malcolm, and something in her demeanor had changed. "My work… in the Throne Room?"

Malcolm jolted at being addressed, but caught on quickly. "Well, other places too," he said, barely keeping the tremble out of his voice. "The main pavilion could use, um, several of these. That one with the Greek landscape— the Nine Muses would love that. And I'm sure the other gods would be fighting over your work as well. They'd compete to have your tapestries in their palaces. I guess, aside from Athena, none of the gods has ever seen what you can do?"

Arachne snapped her mandibles. "Hardly. In the old days, Athena tore up all my best work. My tapestries depicted the gods in rather unflattering ways, you see. Your mother didn't appreciate that."

"Rather hypocritical," Malcolm said, and suddenly he seemed far more confident than he had before, "since the gods make fun of each other all the time. I think the trick would be to pit one god against another. Ares, for instance, would love a tapestry making fun of my mother. He's always resented Athena."

Arachne's head tilted at an unnatural angle. "You would work against your own mother?"

"I'm just telling you what Ares would like," he said. His tone was innocent, but I could see straight through it. "And Zeus would love something that made fun of Poseidon. And Poseidon loves his daughter. She’s his princess— everyone knows it— so I'm sure he'd want a thousand tapestries with Allie as the subject. And you seem to already have her likeness down pat. Oh, I'm sure if the Olympians saw your work, they'd realize how amazing you are, and I'd have to broker a bidding war. As for working against my mother… Why shouldn't I? She sent me here to die, didn't she? The last time I saw her in New York, she basically disowned me."

Malcolm led the retelling of the story. His voice sounded so bitter and sorrowful, I could tell the spider-woman was hanging on his every word. She did not pounce. Only I knew that he wasn’t even laying his anger on thick. 

"This is Athena's nature," Arachne hissed. "She casts aside even her own son. The goddess would never allow my tapestries to be shown in the palaces of the gods. She was always jealous of me."

I cut in. "But imagine if you could get your revenge at long last? All of this time waiting for retribution, and you can finally get it!"

"By killing you both!"

"I suppose." Malcolm scratched his head. "Or… You could let me be your agent. I’ve seen all of the work that Allie’s does— I could do it easily. I could get your work into Mount Olympus, arrange an exhibition for the other gods. By the time my mother found out, it would be too late. The Olympians would finally see that your work is… better."

"Then you admit it!" Arachne cried. "A son of Athena admits I am better! Oh, this is sweet to my ears."

Finally, I found her weak spot— and my chance to prepare for the kill. "Well, a lot of good it does you," I pointed out faux-sympathetically. "If we die down here, you go on living in the dark. Gaea destroys the gods, and they never realize you were the better weaver."

The spider hissed.

I was afraid Athena might suddenly appear and curse us with some terrible affliction. But nothing bad happened. Maybe Athena understood that we were only saying these things to save our lives. Or maybe Athena was in such in bad shape, split between her Greek and Roman personalities, that she wasn't even paying attention. I hoped that no matter the case, she never brought it up. 

"This will not do," Arachne grumbled. "I cannot allow it."

"Well…" I shifted, trying to keep my weight off my throbbing knee. A new crack appeared in the floor, and I hobbled back.

"Careful!" Arachne snapped. "The foundations of this shrine have been eaten away over the centuries!"

My heartbeat faltered. "Eaten away?"

"You have no idea how much hatred boils beneath us," the spider crooned. "The spiteful thoughts of so many monsters trying to reach the Athena Parthenos and destroy it. My webbing is the only thing holding the room together, boy! One false step, and you'll fall all the way to Tartarus— and believe me, unlike the Doors of Death, this would be a one-way trip, a very hard fall! I will not have you dying before you tell me your plan for my artwork."

My mouth went dry immediately. All the way to… Tartarus? I tried to stay focused, but it wasn't easy as I listened to the floor creak and crack, spilling rubble into the void below. The first time I’d ever been to the Underworld, with Allie and Grover, I’d almost been forcefully dragged into the Pit by Annabeth’s Yankee’s cap. The nightmares afterward had been bad, but I had no doubts things could have always been worse. Allie had just barely been able to keep me from falling.

"Right, the plan," Malcolm said, and he sounded far more uneasy than he had before. "Um… As I said, I'd love to take your tapestries to Olympus and hang them everywhere. You could rub your craftsmanship in Athena's nose for all eternity. But the only way I could do that… No. It's too difficult. You might as well go ahead and kill us."

"No!" Arachne cried. "That is unacceptable. It no longer brings me any pleasure to contemplate. I must have my work on Mount Olympus! What must I do?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Just… I don’t know, push us into Tartarus or something."

"I refuse!"

It was hard to keep a smile from forming on my face as I practically goaded, "Don't be ridiculous. Kill us."

"I do not take orders from you! Tell me what I must do! Or… or—"

Malcolm offered, "Or you'll kill us?"

"Yes! No!" The spider pressed her front legs against her head. "I must show my work on Mount Olympus."

I tried to contain my excitement. The plan might actually work… but we still had to convince Arachne to do something impossible. 

"I suppose I could pull a few strings," Malcolm conceded. “But…”

"I excel at pulling strings!" said Arachne. "I'm a spider!"

Malcolm shrugged, but I could see the Athena sparkle in his eyes that said he’d just come up with a brilliant idea. He met my eyes for half a second, and I could tell what he wanted to tell me without him saying it outloud, I’ve got this. 

He cleared his throat. "Yes, but to get your work shown on Mount Olympus, we'd need a proper audition. I'd have to pitch the idea, submit a proposal, put together a portfolio. Hmm… Do you have any headshots?"

Arachne jolted at the modern word. "Headshots?"

"Glossy black-and-white… Oh, never mind. The audition piece is the most important thing. These tapestries are excellent. But the gods would require something really special— something that shows off your talent in the… extreme."

Arachne snarled. "Are you suggesting that these are not my best work? Are you challenging me to a contest?"

"Oh, no!" Malcolm laughed and it only sounded slightly forced. "Against me? Gosh, no. You are much too good. It would only be a contest against yourself, to see if you really have what it takes to show your work on Mount Olympus."

"Of course I do!"

"Well, I certainly think so. But the audition, you know… it's a formality. I'm afraid it would be very difficult. Are you sure you don't just want to kill us?"

"Stop saying that!" Arachne screeched. "What must I make?"

"I'll show you." 

Malcolm unslung his backpack, and I was confused as to what he might be trying to grab for only a moment before he took out Daedalus's laptop and opened it. The delta logo glowed in the dark.

"What is that?" Arachne asked. "Some sort of loom?"

"In a way," I said, thinking quickly. "It's… for weaving ideas. It holds a diagram of the artwork you would build."

I could see Malcolm’s fingers trembling on the keyboard. Arachne lowered herself to peer directly over his shoulder. I couldn't help thinking how easily those needle-like teeth could sink into his neck. He opened a 3-D imaging program. Then hesitated. 

I wasn’t sure if he’d thought about what he might be able to get Arachne to make, or if he’d suddenly second-guessed himself, but I had to recover for him. It came to me quickly. Inspired by the most unlikely muse ever: Frank Zhang, we were about to survive.

I nudged Malcolm over and typed something into the program. He jolted, then nodded almost imperceptively at me, following my exact train of thought. He did some quick calculations, increased the dimensions of the model, then showed Arachne how it could be created— strands of material woven into strips, then braided into a long cylinder.

The golden light from the screen illuminated the spider's face. "You want me to make that? But this is nothing! So small and simple!"

"The actual size would be much bigger," Malcolm cautioned. "You see these measurements? Naturally it must be large enough to impress the gods. It may look simple, but the structure has incredible properties. Your spider silk would be the perfect material— soft and flexible, yet hard as steel."

"I see…" Arachne frowned. "But this isn't even a tapestry."

Malcolm nodded. "That's why it's a challenge. It's outside your comfort zone. A piece like this— an abstract sculpture— is what the gods are looking for. It would stand in the entry hall of the Olympian throne room for every visitor to see. You would be famous forever!"

Arachne made a discontented hum in her throat. I could tell she wasn't going for the idea. My hands started to feel cold and sweaty.

"This would take a great deal of web," the spider complained. "More than I could make in a year."

Malcolm turned back to the screen and calculated the mass and size accordingly. "You'd need to unravel the statue," he said, and I realized just how well this plan might work. "Reuse the silk."

Arachne seemed about to object, but I waved at the Athena Parthenos like it was nothing. "What's more important— covering that old statue or proving your artwork is the best? Of course, you'd have to be incredibly careful. You'd need to leave enough webbing to hold the room together. And if you think it's too difficult—"

"I didn't say that!"

"Okay,” I said, and then finally went in for the kill. “It's just… Athena said that creating this braided structure would be impossible for any weaver, even her. So if you don't think you can—"

"Athena said that?"

It was difficult to keep the smile off of my face. "Well… yeah."

"Ridiculous! I can do it!"

Malcolm clapped his hands together. "Great! But you'd need to start right away, before the Olympians choose another artist for their installations."

Arachne growled. "If you are tricking me, boy—"

"You'll have us right here as a hostage," I reminded her. "It's not like we can go anywhere. Once this sculpture is complete, you'll agree that it's the most amazing piece you've ever done. If not, we will gladly die."

Arachne hesitated. Her barbed legs were so close, she could've impaled the both of us with a quick swipe.

"Fine," the spider said. "One last challenge— against myself!"

Arachne climbed her web and began to unravel the Athena Parthenos.

*** 

I lost track of time. 

The Rolex Allie had gifted me for my twentieth birthday had stopped working the second Malcolm and I had descended the stairs into this place. I could feel the ambrosia I'd eaten earlier starting to repair my leg, but it still hurt so badly that the pain throbbed all the way up to my hip. All along the walls, small spiders scuttled in the darkness, as if awaiting their mistress's orders. Thousands of them rustled behind the tapestries, making the woven scenes move like wind.

I sat on the crumbling floor and tried to preserve my strength. While Arachne wasn't watching, Malcolm and I attempted to get some sort of signal on Daedalus's laptop to contact our friends, but of course we had no luck. That left me nothing to do but watch in amazement and horror as Arachne worked, her eight legs moving with hypnotic speed, slowly unraveling the silk strands around the statue.

With its golden clothes and its luminous ivory face, the Athena Parthenos was even scarier than Arachne. It gazed down sternly, just as the actual goddess did any time she came in contact with Allie and me. I could imagine being an Ancient Greek, walking into the Parthenon and seeing this massive goddess with her shield, spear, and python, her free hand holding out Nike, the winged spirit of victory. It would've been enough to put a kink in the chiton of any mortal.

More than that, the statue radiated power. As Athena was unwrapped, the air around us grew warmer. Her ivory skin glowed with life. All across the room, the smaller spiders became agitated and began retreating back into the hallway.

I guessed that Arachne's webs had somehow masked and dampened the statue's magic.

Now that it was free, the Athena Parthenos filled the chamber with magical energy. Centuries of mortal prayers and burnt offerings had been made in its presence. It was infused with the power of Athena.

Arachne didn't seem to notice. She kept muttering to herself, counting out yards of silk and calculating the number of strands her project would require. Whenever she hesitated, we called out encouragement and reminded her how wonderful her tapestries would look on Mount Olympus.

The statue grew so warm and bright that I could see more details of the shrine— the Roman masonry that had probably once been gleaming white, the dark bones of Arachne's past victims and meals hanging in the web, and the massive cables of silk that connected the floor to the ceiling. 

I now saw just how fragile the marble tiles were under my feet. They were covered in a fine layer of webbing, like mesh holding together a shattered mirror. Whenever the Athena Parthenos shifted even slightly, more cracks spread and widened along the floor. In some places, there were holes as big as manhole covers. I almost wished it were dark again. Even if our plan succeeded and we defeated Arachne, I wasn't sure how we could make it out of this chamber alive.

"So much silk," Arachne muttered. "I could make twenty tapestries—"

"Keep going!" I called up. "You're doing a wonderful job."

The spider kept working. After what seemed like forever, a mountain of glistening silk was piled at the feet of the statue. The walls of the chamber were still covered in webs. The support cables holding the room together hadn't been disturbed. But the Athena Parthenos was free.

The cracks seemed to be spreading across the floor more rapidly.

According to Arachne, the malicious thoughts of monsters had eaten away at the shrine's foundations for centuries. If that was true, now that it was free the Athena Parthenos might be attracting even more attention from the monsters in Tartarus.

"The design," I said, trying to keep the panic out of my voice, instead trying to remain more blasé. "You should hurry."

Malcolm lifted the computer screen for Arachne to see, but the spider snapped, "I've memorized it, child. I have an artist's eye for detail."

"Of course you do,” Malcolm said. “But we should hurry."

"Why?"

"Uh—” 

I stepped in quickly. “So we can introduce your work to the world! My girlfriend, Allie— you know, the world-famous actress and singer— she always says perfection shouldn’t be hidden from the world for long."

She also said that some art should be kept hidden to keep the world from corrupting it, but that was neither here nor there. 

"Hmm. Very well."

Arachne began to weave. It was slow work, turning silk strands into long strips of cloth. The chamber rumbled. The cracks at my feet became wider.

If Arachne noticed, she didn't seem to care. I considered trying to push the spider into the pit somehow, but I dismissed the idea. There wasn't a big enough hole, and besides, if the floor gave way, Arachne could probably hang from her silk and escape, while me, Malcolm, and the ancient statue would tumble into Tartarus.

Slowly, Arachne finished the long strips of silk and braided them together. Her skill was flawless. I couldn't help being impressed. 

But Arachne's skill wasn't the point. She had been punished for being prideful and rude. No matter how amazing you were, you couldn't go around insulting the gods (unless you were important to them, like Allie, but even she knew her limits most of the time). The Olympians were a reminder that there was always someone better than you, so you shouldn't get a big head. Still… being turned into a monstrous immortal spider seemed like a pretty harsh punishment for the crime of bragging.

Arachne worked more quickly, bringing the strands together. Soon, the structure was done. At the feet of the statue lay a braided cylinder of silk strips, five feet in diameter and ten feet long. The surface glistened like an abalone shell, but it didn't seem beautiful to me. It was just functional: a trap. It would only be beautiful if it worked.

Arachne turned to her with a hungry smile. "Done! Now, my reward! Prove to me that you can deliver on your promises."

We studied the trap. We frowned and walked around it, inspecting the weaving from every angle. Then, careful of his bad ankle, Malcolm got down on his hands and knees and crawled inside. He had done the measurements in his head. If he'd gotten them wrong, our plan was doomed. But he slipped through the silken tunnel without touching the sides, crawling out the other end and shaking his head.

"There's a flaw," he proclaimed.

"What?!" Arachne cried. "Impossible! I followed your instructions—"

"Inside," he said, voice low. "Crawl in and see for yourself. It's right in the middle— a flaw in the weaving."

Arachne foamed at the mouth. I was afraid he'd pushed too hard, and the spider would snap us up. We'd be just another set of bones in the cobwebs.

Instead, Arachne stamped her eight legs petulantly. "I do not make mistakes." 

"Oh, it's small," he said. "You can probably fix it. But I don't want to show the gods anything but your best work. Look, go inside and check. If you can fix it, then we'll show it to the Olympians. You'll be the most famous artist of all time. They'll probably fire the Nine Muses and hire you to oversee all the arts. The goddess Arachne… Yes, I wouldn't be surprised."

"The goddess…" Arachne's breathing turned shallow, all eight of her eyes hazy. "Yes, yes. I will fix this flaw." She poked her head into the tunnel. "Where is it?"

"Right in the middle," Malcolm urged. "Go ahead. It might be a bit snug for you."

"I'm fine!" she snapped, and wriggled in.

As we had hoped, the spider's abdomen fit, but only barely. As she pushed her way in, the braided strips of silk expanded to accommodate her. Arachne got all the way up to her spinnerets.

"I see no flaw!" she announced.

"Really?" I asked. "Well, that's odd. Come out and I'll take a look instead."

Moment of truth. Arachne wriggled, trying to back up. The woven tunnel contracted around her and held her fast. She tried to wriggle forward, but the trap was already stuck to her abdomen. She couldn't get through that way either. I had been afraid the spider's barbed legs might puncture the silk, but Arachne's legs were pressed so tightly against her body she could barely move them.

"What— what is this?" she called. "I am stuck!"

"Ah," I said. "We must have forgotten to tell you. This piece of art is called Chinese Handcuffs. At least, it's a larger variation on that idea. We’ve decided to call it Chinese Spidercuffs."

"Treachery!" Arachne thrashed and rolled and squirmed, but the trap held her tight.

"It was a matter of survival," Malcolm corrected. "You were going to kill us either way, whether I helped you or not, yes?"

"Well, of course! You're a child of Athena." The trap went still. "I mean… No, of course not! I respect my promises."

"Uh-huh." We stepped back as the braided cylinder began to thrash again. "Normally these traps are made from woven bamboo, but spider silk is even better. It will hold you fast, and it's much too strong to break— even for you."

"Gahhhh!" Arachne rolled and wriggled, but I moved out of the way. Even with my fucked up knee, I could manage to avoid a giant silk finger trap.

"I will destroy you!" Arachne promised. "I mean… No, I'll be very nice to you if you let me out."

"I'd save my energy if I were you." I took a deep breath, relaxing for the first time in hours. "I'm going to call my friends."

"You— you're going to call them about my artwork?" Arachne asked hopefully.

I scanned the room. There had to be a way to send an Iris-message to the Argo II. I had some water left in my bottle, but how to create enough light and mist to make a rainbow in a dark cavern?

Arachne began to roll around again. "You're calling your friends to kill me!" she shrieked. "I will not die! Not like this!"

"Calm down," I said gruffly. "We'll let you live. We just want the statue."

"The statue?"

"Yes." I wasn’t sure I liked the tone Malcolm’s voice had taken. It was as though his fear had turned to anger and resentment, and a bit like his pride was taking over. "The artwork that I'll display most prominently on Mount Olympus? It won't be yours. The Athena Parthenos belongs there— right in the central park of the gods."

"No! No, that's horrible!"

"Oh, it won't happen right away," he said. "First we'll take the statue with us to Greece. A prophecy told us it has the power to help defeat the giants. After that… Well, we can't simply restore it to the Parthenon. That would raise too many questions. It'll be safer in Mount Olympus. It will unite the children of Athena and bring peace to the Romans and Greeks. Thanks for keeping it safe all these centuries. You've done Athena a great service."

“Malcolm—” I tried, but was cut off by the spider. 

Arachne screamed and flailed. A strand of silk shot from the monster's spinnerets and attached itself to a tapestry on the far wall. Arachne contracted her abdomen and blindly ripped away the weaving. She continued to roll, shooting silk randomly, pulling over braziers of magic fire and ripping tiles out of the floor. The chamber shook. Tapestries began to burn.

"Stop that!" I yelled, trying to hobble out of the way of the spider's silk. "You'll bring down the whole cavern and kill us all!"

"Better than seeing you win!" Arachne cried. "My children! Help me!"

Oh, great. I had hoped the statue's magic aura would keep away the little spiders, but Arachne continued shrieking, imploring them to help. I considered killing the spider woman to shut her up. It would be easy to use my sword, but I worried that if I stabbed through the braided silk, the trap might unravel, and with my knee as torn up as it was, I couldn’t be sure of my aim or strength. 

It was possible Arachne could break free before we could finish her off.

All these thoughts came too late. Spiders began swarming into the chamber. The statue of Athena glowed brighter. The spiders clearly didn't want to approach, but they edged forward as if gathering their courage. Their mother was screaming for help. Eventually they would pour in, overwhelming Malcolm and me. 

He froze.

"Arachne, stop it!" I yelled. "I'll—"

Somehow Arachne twisted in her prison, pointing her abdomen toward the sound of my voice. A strand of silk hit me in the chest like a heavyweight's glove.

I fell, my leg flaring with pain. I slashed wildly at the webbing with my sword as Arachne pulled me toward her snapping spinnerets.

I managed to cut the strand and crawl away, but the little spiders were closing around us. 

I realized our best efforts had not been enough. We wouldn't make it out of there. Arachne's children would kill us at the feet of Athena's statue.

Allie, I thought, My Angel, I'm sorry.

*    *    *

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