NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

ninety three: the food.

AFTER A HORRIBLE dream where Brooklyn was repeatedly denied food and then a meteor destroyed the beach she was sitting on, she was shaken awake by her stupid boyfriend.

"Oh my god," Brooklyn groaned, putting her hands over her eyes dramatically.

"You had a bad dream too?" Annabeth asked, chomping down on some roast beef.

"My resort blew up," Brooklyn pouted. "And everyone wouldn't let me eat food."

Percy sighed. "Sounds about right." He offered her half of a hot dog. "I'm not going to stop you from eating this."

"I love you." She snatched it from him and immediately wolfed it down. They finished their food in silence.

Bob chomped down the last of his M&M's. Which, what the fuck, Brooklyn wanted some. "Should go now. They will be here in a few minutes."

"A few minutes?" Annabeth repeated.

"Yes . . . well, I think minutes . . ." Bob scratched his silvery hair. "Time is hard in Tartarus. Not the same."

Percy crept to the edge of the crater. He peered back the way they'd come. "I don't see anything, but that doesn't mean much. Bob, which giants are we talking about? Which Titans?"

Bob grunted. "Not sure of names. Six, maybe seven. I can sense them."

"Six or seven?" Brooklyn's eyes widened. "And can they sense you?"

"Don't know." Bob smiled. "Bob is different! But they can smell demigods, yes. You three smell very strong. Good strong. Like . . . hmm. Like buttery bread!"

"Buttery bread," Annabeth said. "Well, that's great."

Percy climbed back to the altar. "Is it possible to kill a giant in Tartarus? I mean, since we don't have a god to help us?"

He looked at Annabeth.

"Percy, I don't know. Traveling in Tartarus, fighting monsters here . . . it's never been done before. Maybe Bob could help us kill a giant? Maybe a Titan would count as a god? I just don't know."

"Yeah," Percy said. "Okay."

Brooklyn got to her feet unsteadily. Bob started cleaning up, collecting their trash in a little pile, using his squirt bottle to wipe off the altar.

"Where to now?" Brooklyn asked.

Percy pointed at the stormy wall of darkness. "Bob says that way. Apparently the Doors of Death—"

"You told him?" Annabeth snapped.

Percy winced. "While you were asleep," he admitted. "Annabeth, Bob can help. We need a guide."

"Bob helps!" Bob agreed. "Into the Dark Lands. The Doors of Death . . . hmm, walking straight to them would be bad. Too many monsters gathered there. Even Bob could not sweep that many. They would kill Percy, Brooks, and Annabeth in about two seconds." The Titan frowned. "I think seconds. Time is hard in Tartarus."

"Right," Annabeth grumbled. "So is there another way?"

"Hiding," said Bob. "The Death Mist could hide you."

"Oh . . ." Annabeth's face transformed from an angry expression to a scared expression. "Uh, what is Death Mist?"

"It is dangerous," Bob said. "But if the lady will give you Death Mist, it might hide you. If we can avoid Night. The lady is very close to Night. That is bad."

"The lady," Percy repeated.

"Yes." Bob pointed ahead of them into the inky blackness. "We should go."