annais min had everything to prove and no time to do it. as one of the five children of the underworld destined to lead the seven on their journey of death and destruction, annais had the fate of the universe resting on her shoulders, holding her do...
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CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT: LAMB TO THE SLAUGHTER
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HEAVY WAS THE HAND that held the sword. Annais' mind was empty. Her heart quiet. She clung to Nico's sword for dear life, the weight of it burdensome but welcomed. It was the only thing keeping her grounded, preventing her thoughts from wandering into the pits of the Underworld where Penelope Min rotted.
She hadn't said a word since they escaped from Gaea. She vaguely remembered Frank transforming into a weasel and digging his way up to the surface to find the others, but even that hadn't managed to evoke a laugh -- or anything for that matter -- out of her.
She knew they knew. How could they not with Leo's big mouth, and Mel's wide, doe eyes watching her with the guilt of someone who was struggling with the weight of a damning secret? Hea was the only one Annais had let close enough to hold her hand as they descended from the sky. Below them was the Colosseum. Annais could just make out the figures of their friends in the centre of the chaos.
And then everything exploded.
Ephialtes was crumpled across the arena floor, his limbs charcoaled and smouldering, defeat inevitable. Gleeson let out a shriek of delight that was loud enough for the whole of Rome to hear. "That's what I'm talking about!"
Hea, who had released Annais' hand to peer over the railing, scowled at him. "Don't get too ahead of yourself, Gleeson."
They watched Percy and Bacchus (Bacchus!?) argue for a moment. Then the God of wine crossed over to what looked to be a lake, where he drained the water to reveal Ephilates' brother in arms. As the crowd -- which, upon closer inspection, was made up of ghosts and ghouls -- hollered their disappointment, Bacchus made a show of smacking Otis' head with his staff, smirking over the pile of ash that now remained. Then he picked his way across the arena to where Ephialtes roared in terror. It was a matter of seconds before he joined his brother in Hell.
The crowd started to roar with a surprising amount of fervour.
The Mins and the rest of the seven descended into the Colosseum from the rope ladder. By the time they reached the bottom, the arena was empty, silent. Their footsteps echoed like gunshots and clashing weapons. Annais was yet to let go of Nico's sword, even as they caught each other's eyes and Annais' heart lurched.
There was no doubt about it. Nico Di Angelo was alive. Her friends had saved him.
And he was standing right there, arm-in-arm with Ezra, her tether attached to his tattered jeans. She looked none the wiser to Annais' earth-shattering moment of truth.
"Well," Bacchus smirked at them. "That was fun. You have my permission to continue your voyage."
