PERCY JACKSON felt betrayed. His girlfriend Annabeth Chase had left him for the dead in a place even the gods feared; Tartarus. A mysterious deity found him, lying there, half-dead. She could have finished the job without lifting a finger, but the d...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"THE WELCOME MAT," Percy muttered.
They both gazed up at the blood-colored clouds swirling in the grey haze. No way they would have the strength to climb back up that cliff, even if they wanted to. Now there were only two choices: downriver or upriver, skirting the banks of the Phlegethon.
"We'll find a way out," Percy said. "The Doors of Death."
He noticed Annabeth shudder at the mention of the Doors, and honestly, he couldn't blame her. He remembered what he had said just before they fell into Tartarus. He'd made Nico di Angelo promise to lead the Argo II to Epirus, to the mortal side of the Doors of Death.
"We'll see you there," Percy had said.
That idea seemed even crazier than drinking fire. How could the two of them wander through Tartarus and find the Doors of Death? They'd barely managed to stumble s 100 yards in this poisonous place without dying.
"We have to," Percy decided, breaking the thoughtful silence between the two of them. "Not just for us, but for everybody we love. The Doors have to be closed on both sides, or the monsters will keep coming through. Gaia's forces will overrun the world."
But he knew that they had no way of locating the doors. They didn't even know how much time it would take. Or even if time flowed at the same speed in Tartarus. How could they possibly synchronize a meeting with their friends? And Nico had mentioned a legion of Gaia's strongest monsters guarding the Doors on the Tartarus side. Annabeth and Percy couldn't exactly launch a frontal attack. But they had to try because everything depended on it.
They both knew the odds were bad. Besides, after swimming in the river Cocytus, Percy had heard enough whining and moaning to last a lifetime. He promised himself never to complain again.
"Well." Annabeth took a deep breath. "If we stay close to the river, we'll have a way to heal ourselves. If we go downstream-"
But Percy had zoned out, his eyes fixing on a massive, dark shape behind her - a snarling monstrous blob with spindly barbed legs and glinting eyes.
He had time to think: Arachne.
"Annabeth!" Percy screamed, but it fell on deaf ears. She had frozen in shock, staring at the mistress of spiders.
Percy knew he had to do something. Fast. Then he felt Riptide in its pen form pressing against his thigh. With shaky hands, Percy grabbed his pen-sword and popped off the lid. He heard the familiar SHINK of his ballpoint pen transforming into a sword. Then he did the only thing that came naturally. He swung. His blade swept over Annabeth's head in a glowing bronze arc or destruction. A horrible wail echoed through the canyon.
Annabeth stood there, stunned, as yellow dust - the remains of Arachne - rained around her like tree pollen.
"You okay?" Percy scanned the cliffs and boulders, alert for more monsters, but nothing else appeared. The golden dust of the spider settled on the obsidian rocks.
As Annabeth stared at him in amazement, he knew that the monster deserved much worse for what she did. Woah. Where did that thought come from? He tucked it into the back of his mind. It was probably just the poisonous air of Tartarus messing with his head, right?
Riptide's Celestial bronze blade glowed even brighter in the gloom of Tartarus. As it passed through the thick, hot air, it made a defiant hiss like a riled snake.
"She... she would've killed me," Annabeth stammered.
Percy kicked the dust on the rocks, his expression grim and dissatisfied. "She died too easily, considering how much torture she put you through. She deserved worse."
Percy noted the hard edge in his voice, and it unsettled him. He'd never been so angry or vengeful on someone's behalf. It almost made him glad Arachne had died so quickly. But in the back of his head, he wanted to torture her for what she had done.
Annabeth looked like she was contemplating the same thing. "How did you move so fast?"
Percy shrugged. "Gotta watch each other's backs, right? Now, you were saying... downstream?"
Annabeth nodded, but she looked like she was still in a daze. The yellow dust dissipated on the rocky shore, turning to steam. At least now they know monsters could be killed in Tartarus... though she had no idea how long Arachne would remain dead. Percy didn't plan on staying long enough to find out.
"Yeah, downstream," Annabeth said in an unsure voice, which got uncharacteristiclly meeker as she went on. "If the river comes from the upper levels of the Underworld, it should flow deeper into Tartarus-"
She was cut off by a roar coming from a distance. Percy's head whipped around so fast he was surprised he didn't get whiplash.
A hydra was charging at them, its six monstrous heads roaring in fury. It seemed as though killing a monster in Tartarus did have consequences.
Percy scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pounding migraine the sudden movement caused. He held Riptide in front of him threateningly, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle.
He glanced at his Wise Girl. Her blonde hair was soaked in sweat, and she was covered in dust and grime from head to toe. Her shirt was soaked and slightly ripped off in some places, but a determined gleam shone in her eye. He thought she had never looked better.
He faced the Hydra with new-found determination. He surveyed his surroundings, searching desperately for something ― anything ― that could help them. And he found it.
He had a plan. A stupid one, yeah, but a plan, nonetheless.
He lunged forward and thrust his sword into the Hydra's exposed stomach. It roared in outrage, and spit acid at him. Percy managed to slide under its stomach - man, this thing really needed a shower - and scrambled to stand up to avoid the monster's feet.
What he didn't account for, was its tail. It whacked him from behind, sending him flying through the sulfuric air, straight to the banks of the Phlegethon. Annabeth, who was watching the scene, ran towards the Hydra with a flaming rock, having dipped it into the river mentioned previously.
Percy knew she wouldn't be able to last long, though. She was already limping heavier than before, and her rock's flames were spluttering. Percy knew he had to work fast. He took a deep breath, or at least as much of a deep breath as he could take in Tartarus, and started raising the River of Fire.
