𝙄𝙉𝙁𝙇𝘼𝙈𝙀𝘿; heroes of olympus

golden ghosts

ERITH JAY
FIFTY FEET FROM THE DOORS OF DEATH, Percy froze.

"What?" Erith asked quietly, keeping her hand firmly clasped in his.

His eyes were locked on the Doors. "They're the same," he breathed.

Erith blinked, confused. "Huh?"

The Doors were impressive, definitely: framed in Stygian iron, the magical portal was a set of elevator doors―two panels of silver and black etched with art deco designs. Frost spread from the base of the Doors, and there was a purplish glow in the air around them. The chains held them fast: cords of black iron ran down either side of the frame, like rigging lines on a suspension bridge. They were tethered to hooks embedded in the fleshy ground, which couldn't have been very comfortable for Tartarus. The two Titans, Hyperion and Krios, stood guard at the anchor points. But, despite all of the decor, Erith wasn't sure what Percy was talking about. They certainly weren't cool enough to stop dead for.

"The... Olympus," Percy said, sounding like he was choking.

The Olympus? And then it hit Erith. They probably looked like something on Olympus. She knew Percy had been, but she certainly hadn't. Still, no wonder the son of Poseidon was so rattled.

Before she could say anything, the entire frame of the Doors shuddered. Black lightning flashed into the sky. The chains shook, and the Titans planted their feet on the hooks to keep them secure. The Doors slid open, revealing the gilded interior of an elevator car.

Erith tensed, feeling Percy's clammy hand stuck to hers, but Bob planted a hand on her shoulder. "Wait," he cautioned.

So close. Erith felt like her body was coming apart, pulling toward the Doors. Escape.

Hyperion yelled to the surrounding crowd, "Group A-22! Hurry up, you sluggards!"

Great. There were assigned groups. Erith's shoulders slumped as a doen Cyclopes rushed forward, waving little red tickets and shouting excitedly. They shouldn't have been able to fit inside those human-sized doors, but as the Cyclopes got closer, their bodies distorted and shrank, the Doors of Death sucking them inside.

The Titan Krios jabbed his thumb against the UP button on the elevator's right side. The Doors slid closed.

The frame shuddered again. Dark lightning faded.

"You must understand how it works," Bob muttered. He addressed the kitten in his palm―smart Titan. "Each time the Doors open, they try to teleport to a new location. Thanatos made them this way, so only he could find them. But now they are chained. The Doors cannot relocate."

"So we have to cut the chains, then," Erith whispered.

"Our camouflage," Percy said. "Will it disappear if we do something aggressive, like cutting the chains?"

"I do not know," Bob told his kitten.

"Mrow," said Small Bob.

Erith took a shaky breath. "Bob distracts them. I sneak on one side, Percy sneaks on the other, and we cut the chains from behind."

"Yes, fine," Bob agreed. "But that is only one problem. Once you are inside the Doors, someone must stay outside to push the button and defend it."