LOVE THE WAY YOU LIE . . . hoo

VIII.

MIA WAS RELIEVED when the demon grandmothers closed in for the kill.

Sure, she was terrified. She didn't like the odds of four against several dozen. But at least she understood fighting. Wandering through the darkness, waiting to be attacked — that had been driving her crazy.

Besides, she, Percy, and Annabeth had fought together many times. And now they had a Titan on their side.

"Back off." Percy jabbed Riptide at the nearest shriveled hag, but she only sneered.

We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.

"Don't touch them," Annabeth warned. "They're the spirits of curses."

"Bob doesn't like curses," Bob decided. The skeleton kitten Small Bob disappeared inside his coveralls. Smart cat.

The Titan swept his broom in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, but they came in again like the tide.

We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you.

The firewater in Mia's stomach started crawling up her throat. She wished Tartarus had better beverage options, or maybe a tree that dispensed antacid fruit.

"I appreciate the offer," Percy said. "But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades. Percy cut her in two, but as soon as she vaporized, he stumbled back, clamping his hand to his rib cage. His fingers came away wet and red.

"Percy, you're bleeding!" Annabeth cried. "Oh, gods, on both sides."

It was true. The left and right hems of his tattered shirt were sticky with blood, as if an arrow had run him through.

Vengeance. A curse from the slain.

"Geryon," Percy said. "This is how I killed him . . ."

The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.

Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been leveled at you, Percy Jackson. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!

"I don't understand," Percy muttered.

"If you kill one, it gives you a curse." Bob explained.

"But if we don't kill them . . ." Annabeth said.

"They'll kill us anyway," Mia guessed.

Choose! the arai cried. Will you be crushed like Kampê? Or disintegrated like the young telkhines you slaughtered under Mount St. Helens? You have spread so much death and suffering, Amelia Starfury. Let us repay you!

The winged hags pressed in, their breath sour, their eyes burning with hatred. They looked like Furies, but Mia decided these things were even worse. At least the three Furies were under the control of her Dad. These things were wild, and they just kept multiplying.

If they really embodied the dying curses of every enemy Mia had ever destroyed . . . then she was in serious trouble. She'd faced a lot of enemies. She has a lot of enemies, in fact.

One of the demons lunged at Annabeth. Instinctively, she dodged. She brought her rock down on the old lady's head and broke her into dust.

It wasn't like Annabeth had a choice. Mia would've done the same thing. But instantly Annabeth dropped her rock and cried in alarm.