The Stories of Our Heroes

Scenes from Tartarus

Percy was pretty sure they were going to die. Soon. Hopefully quickly and painlessly, but he highly doubted it.

He tried to focus on only the sound of Annabeth behind him, panting and dragging her bad foot, and the sight of flat ground below him. It wasn't easy, considering how distracting it was to hear the screeching from above. He assumed the monster, whatever kind it was, was getting closer to them by the minute; its battle cry began to reverberate in his chest. Ignore it, he thought. We've just got to get off this cliff. Much easier said than done, especially when the ledge was slowly but surely shrinking in size. Percy could barely fit his whole foot on it anymore. They had been shuffling down, down, down for hours. The end was finally in sight, but not close enough. The monster was probably only 200 yards above them. What was even his plan when they did get off this gods-forsaken cliff? Fight? Run? Probably a combination of both.

"Annabeth," he started, wanting to ask her if she could see a good place to hide, but he startled her as he turned around. Just as she was putting weight on her bad ankle, too. It all happened in slow motion: rock slipped out from under foot; she let out a yelp of pain; he lunged to grab her; more rock slipped; they lost their balance. Fatigue and injury caught up to them, and Percy could do nothing but hold onto Annabeth for all he was worth as they tumbled down the side of the treacherous mountain. Only one thought skittered across his mind as they fell, hand in hand. Isn't this funny. But there was no water at the bottom this time. Percy couldn't cushion their fall. The monster wasn't going to kill them, after all. They'd just go splat on the ground of Tartarus instead.

Something sharp dug into Percy's shoulder, and suddenly he wasn't rolling anymore. Annabeth was ripped from his embrace as they were lifted into the air. He must have smacked his head on something during the tumble, with the way his brain felt so scrambled, but he was fairly confident that he was flying.

"Dinosaur?" was the only word he managed to Annabeth, who was gripped in a talon a couple of feet away from him. That must be what was cutting into his skin, too. She provided only a confused expression in return. "I guess monsters have wings in Tartarus, then." The bird-like creature that carried them along was huge - like, ginormous huge. Percy didn't think it was at all unreasonable to call it a dinosaur. It looked like on of those pointy-nose guys from a movie he used to watch as a kid. What was it called...

"Pterodactyl," Annabeth supplied, like she read his mind.

"Yeah, yeah, that's the one, Wise Girl."

Percy knew they should have a bit more urgency to their conversation, but it was hard to care. The situation seemed hopeless. Their sad, miserable lives seemed hopeless. The blank expression Annabeth wore told him she felt the same way. There was no fear, no pain. Just an empty, hollow look on his girlfriend's beautiful face. He hated it. The creature squawked from right above them, the shrill noise almost deafening. It was a victory cry. A bird who already caught its prey.

"What's the plan?" His voice was weak. He wasn't sure she even heard him over all the wind rushing past them. Yet sure enough, Annabeth held out her hand. She winced as the motion caused a talon to cut deep into her shoulder. Percy had to look away as blood bubbled up from under her shirt. But she didn't lower her arm.

"Sword."

"Huh?"

"Riptide. Let me have it."

Sheer luck allowed him easy access to his jeans pocket. He managed to get the pen to Annabeth's outstretched hand without too much trouble. He didn't bother to ask her what she intended to do with it. They flew for a few minutes more. The pterodactyl-monster soared over a cluster of trees. Just when a grove of softer-looking trees appeared below them, Annabeth uncapped his sword. Percy understood seconds before she acted. He braced himself for what was to come.