𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

61

Hadrian dreamed he was in a dark cavern. He could only see a few feet in front of him, but the space must have been vast. Water dripped from somewhere nearby, and the sound echoed off distant walls. The way the air moved made Hadrian suspect the cave's ceiling was far, far above.

He heard heavy footsteps, and the twin giants Ephialtes and Otis shuffled out of the gloom. Hadrian  could distinguish them only by their hair—Ephialtes had the green locks braided with silver and gold coins; Otis had the purple ponytail braided with... were those firecrackers?

Otherwise they were dressed identically, and their outfits definitely belonged in a nightmare. They wore matching white slacks and gold buccaneer shirts with V-necks that showed way too much chest hair. A dozen sheathed daggers lined their rhinestone belts. Their shoes were open-toed sandals, and they had snakes for feet. The straps wrapped around the serpents' necks. Their heads curled up where the toes should be. The snakes flicked their tongues excitedly and turned their gold eyes in every direction, like dogs looking out the window of a car.

The giants stood in front of Hadrian, but they paid him no attention. Instead, they gazed up into the darkness.

"We're here," Ephialtes announced. Despite his booming voice, his words dissipated in the cavern, echoing until they sounded small and insignificant.

Far above, something answered, "Yes. I can see that. Those outfits are hard to miss."

The voice made Hadrian's stomach drop about six inches. It sounded vaguely female, but not at all human. Each word was a garbled hiss in multiple tones, as if a swarm of African killer bees had learned to speak English in unison.

It wasn't Gaea. Hadrian was sure of that. But whatever it was, the twin giants became nervous. They shifted on their snakes and bobbed their heads respectfully.

"Of course, Your Ladyship," Ephialtes said. "We bring news of—"

"Why are you dressed like that?" asked the thing in the dark. She didn't seem to be coming any closer, which was fine with Hadrian.

Ephialtes shot his brother an irritated look. "My brother was supposed to wear something different. Unfortunately—"

"You said I was the knife thrower today," Otis protested.

"I said I was the knife thrower! You were supposed to be the magician! Ah, forgive me, Your Ladyship. You don't want to hear us arguing. We came as you requested, to bring you news. The ship is approaching."

Her Ladyship, whatever she was, made a series of violent hisses like a tire being slashed repeatedly. With a shudder, Hadrian realized she was laughing.

"How long?" she asked.

"They should land in Rome shortly- in a day or two, I think," Ephialtes said. "Of course, they'll have to get past the golden boy."

He sneered, as if the golden boy was not his favorite person.

"I hope they arrive safely," Her Ladyship said. "It would spoil our fun to have them captured too soon. Are your preparations made?"

"Yes, Your Ladyship." Otis stepped forward, and the cavern trembled. A crack appeared under Otis's left snake.

"Careful, you dolt!" Her Ladyship snarled. "Do you want to return to Tartarus the hard way?"

Otis scrambled back, his face slack with terror. Hadrian realized that the floor, which looked like solid stone, was some places solid, in other places... not so much. He was glad he weighed nothing in his dreams.

"There is little left holding this place together," Her Ladyship cautioned. "Except, of course, my own skill. Centuries of Athena's rage can only be contained so well, and the great Earth Mother churns below us in her sleep. Between those two forces, well... my nest has quite eroded. We must hope this child of Athena proves to be a worthy victim. She may be my last plaything."

Ephialtes gulped. He kept his eyes on the crack in the floor. "Soon it will not matter, Your Ladyship. Gaea will rise, and we all will be rewarded. You will no longer have to guard this place, or keep your works hidden."

"Perhaps," said the voice in the dark. "But I will miss the sweetness of my revenge. We have worked well together over the centuries, have we not?"

The twins bowed. The coins glittered in Ephialtes's hair, and Hadrian realized with nauseating certainty that some of them were silver drachma, exactly like the one Annabeth had gotten from her mom.

Annabeth had told them that in each generation, a few children of Athena were sent on the quest to recover the missing Parthenon statue. None had ever succeeded.

We have worked well together over the centuries....

The giant Ephialtes had centuries' worth of coins in his braids—hundreds of trophies. Hadrian pictured Annabeth standing in this dark place alone. No matter how much jealousy coursed through him when he thought of her with Percy, the thought enraged him. Annabeth was still his friend.

"Uh, Your Ladyship," Ephialtes said nervously. "I would remind you that Gaea wishes the girl to be taken alive. You can torment her. Drive her insane. Whatever you wish, of course. But her blood must be spilt on the ancient stones."

Her Ladyship hissed. "Others could be used for that purpose."

"Y-yes," Ephialtes said. "But this girl is preferred. And the boy—the son of Poseidon. You can see why those two would be most suited for the task."

Hadrian wasn't sure what that meant, but he wanted to crack the floor and send these stupid gold-shirted twins down to oblivion. Currently he was trying not to think about Percy but he'd never let Gaea spill his blood for any task nor Annabeth's.

"We will see," Her Ladyship grumbled. "Leave me now. Tend to your own preparations. You will have your spectacle. And I...I will work in darkness."

The dream dissolved, and Hadrian woke with a start.