SANITY; heroes of olympus

04.10

[act four; chapter ten     -     to hold the doors]

As they trudged toward the heart of Tartarus, Andy kept glancing down at her body, wondering how it could belong to her. Her arms looked like bleached leather pulled over sticks and her skeletal legs seemed to dissolve into smoke with every step. She'd learned to move normally within the Death Mist, more or less, but the magical shroud still made her feel like she was wrapped in a coat of helium, like she was floating.

She irrationally worried that the Death Mist might cling to her forever, even if she somehow managed to survive Tartarus.

Under her feet, the ground glistened a nauseating purple, pulsing with webs of veins. Every so often she caught a glimpse of her reflection, a ghost-like form that no longer looked like her. Ahead of them was the most depressing view of all.

Spread to the horizon was an army of monsters—flocks of winged Arai, tribes of lumbering Cyclopes, clusters of floating evil spirits. Thousands of monsters, maybe tens of thousands, all milling restlessly, pressing against one another, growling and fighting for space—like the locker area of an overcrowded school between classes, if all the students were 'roid-raging mutants who smelled really bad.

Bob led her toward the edge of the army. He made no effort to hide, not that it would have done any good. Being ten feet tall and glowing silver, Bob didn't do stealth very well.

About thirty yards from the nearest monsters, Bob turned to face Andy. "Stay quiet and stay behind me," he advised. "They will not notice you."

She muttered, "We hope."

On the Titan's shoulder, Small Bob woke up from a nap. He purred seismically and arched his back, turning skeletal then back to calico. At least he didn't seem nervous.