Invisible ― Jason Grace

ii. jason's spice tolerance goes through the roof

WHEN THEY REACHED THE LEDGE, Camilla figured they were done for.

She'd never liked heights, even before Neptune finally claimed her and gave her a little insight into that phobia. You would think plunging miles and miles into the deepest pits of the earth and miraculously surviving the fall would make heights a little less scary—but nope. Still terrifying.

The cliff dropped more than eighty feet, which might not have seemed like much compared to that seemingly limitless pit they'd come from, but Camilla's stomach still twisted at the sight of the drop. At the bottom stretched a glowing red current, like a giant, nasty scar in the Earth's heart, casting shadows across the cliff faces.

Even from the top of the canyon, the heat was intense. Camilla's bones were still cold from the River Cocytus, but now her skin felt like she'd been standing in the sun for too long without sunscreen. Every breath took more effort, like a hand was incrementally squeezing tighter and tighter around her throat.

The cuts on her hands hadn't stopped bleeding. Her body felt heavier than ever, the exhaustion from their showdown with the giant twins—what felt like a lifetime ago, but might have been just yesterday, depending on how long they'd spent falling—still lingering.

"So." Jason examined the cliff. He raised his hand, and a soft breeze washed over them, though from the furrow of his brow, Camilla guessed he'd hoped to do more than just blow their hair back a little.

"The air's different down here," he said, letting his hand fall back to his side. "I don't think I could fly us down. Not safely."

"We'll find another way," Camilla said. She leaned as far as she dared to study the side of the canyon below their feet. "There's a ledge right there. Maybe we can climb down?"

Jason glanced warily down at the cliffside. He didn't look the most confident, but he managed a small smile. Camilla appreciated the effort—as guilty as she felt for dragging Jason down with her, she couldn't help but be grateful she wasn't on her own. She never would have survived Tartarus alone.

Then again, who was to say she'd survive either way?

Stop, she scolded herself. Think happy thoughts. This place is already depressing enough.

Jason went first down the cliff. The ledge was barely wide enough for them to get their toes on it, but they did their best. Their hands clawed for any leverage they could find. Camilla tried not to look all the way down, but it was difficult not to focus on how far they were from the ground.

It was a slow journey, the two of them going one step at a time. Camilla's arms ached from the exertion. Her eyes were wet, though she couldn't decide if they were tears or sweat from her forehead. Her hair kept getting stuck to her sweat-covered cheeks, obscuring her vision and driving her crazy.

After what felt like a lifetime but was probably just a few minutes, they reached the bottom of the cliff.

When she reached the ground, she stumbled. Jason caught her, but she nearly winced at the heat coming off of his skin. His eyes didn't seem fully focused, and his breathing was growing more and more labored.

Her own vision was blurry. Her throat felt like she'd swallowed hot sand, and her stomach twisted into an unforgiving knot.

We have to hurry.

"Just to the river," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We can do it."

They staggered over slick glass ledges, around massive boulders, avoiding stalagmites that would've impaled them with any slip of the foot. Their tattered clothes steamed from the heat of the river, but they kept going until they crumbled to their knees at the banks of the Phlegethon.