ᴾʰᵒᵇᵒᵖʰᵒᵇⁱᵃ [ᴶᵃˢᵒⁿ ᴳʳᵃᶜᵉ]

iv.

The forest that Aza wound her way through was a jungle of dead, towering black trees that soared into the endless grey gloom - they were perfectly round, without any knots or imperfections; they didn't even have branches. Simply smooth, dark-barked tree trunks. She didn't know how they were growing on the smooth, pale ground - it certainly didn't seem like soil.

Suddenly, Aza stopped. Her breath caught in her throat - across a small clearing, a curly-haired blonde rested her hand on the trunk of a tree. Aza knew they wouldn't be able to see her, but she pressed closer - thank the gods, there Annabeth was, with Percy - they were both okay - and – was that Bob? How had Bob – Iapetus – ended up in Tartarus with them?  She didn't know, but all that mattered was that they were okay; that finally, she could see with her own eyes that they had survived the fall.

As Aza drew closer, Percy raised his sword, "What is it?"

Bob stopped walking and turned back, looking like a lost puppy, "We are stopping?"

Annabeth held up a hand for silence - Aza knew it was selfish to be happy about it, but she inhaled a sigh of relief when she saw her sword in her best friend's hand. She had been scared that it had been lost to Tartarus forever, but in . A few yards away from Aza, a tree shuddered.

She froze and instinctually glanced at Annabeth for an explanation. She had to creep closer, not entirely sure why she was trying to be quiet in a dream, so she could hear Annabeth whisper, "Something's moving above us. Gather up."

Percy and Bob closed in on either side, and the three stood back-to-back. Aza hovered beside their group, and she peered up into the dark sky, but she didn't see anything. Annabeth relaxed for a moment, as did the others, but then the first monster dropped to the ground right beside Aza.

She nearly jumped out of her skin and skittered backwards, exhaling loudly in shock. At first, she thought it was one of the Furies - Percy's old math teacher. It was a wrinkled old hag with bat-like wings, brass talons and glowing red eyes; she was dressed in a tattered black silk dress, her face twisted in a murderous expression.

Bob grunted as another one dropped in front of him, and then a third in front of Percy. Soon, there were half a dozen surrounding them - more hissed in the trees. Annabeth wielded Aza's sword and took a deep breath before demanding, "What are you?"

"The arai," a voice hissed, "The curses!"

The group tried to figure out which of the creatures had spoken, but none of them seemed to be moving their mouths. Their glowing eyes looked dead, and their expressions were frozen like a marionette. The voice simply floated through the limb-less trees.

Annabeth's voice cracked slightly, "What - what do you want?"

The voice cackled, echoing about Aza's head, "To curse you, of course. To destroy you a thousand times in the name of Mother Night!"

"Only a thousand times?" Percy murmured, "Oh, good. I thought we were in trouble."

The circle of Mrs. Dodds-wannabees closed in. At the same time, Aza heard warning bells.

If only Aza could have had a peaceful awakening. They were like rare, mouth-watering treats, but she had never been particularly lucky. She shot awake in bed, swiveling her head from left to right. In her half-asleep daze, still half in her nightmare, she heard Festus, the bronze dragon figurehead on the Argo, creaking in alarm and shooting fire.

She pulled herself from her bed, quickly straightening her oversized pajama shirt so it was no longer strangling her and unclasped her necklace, barging through her door and racing up the stairs to the deck.