𝐂œ𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐬é𝐬 [Percy Jackson]

109

If the sobbing ghoul was Bob's idea of help, Percy was pretty sure he didn't want it.

Nevertheless, Bob trudged forward. Percy felt obliged to follow, Hadrian slipped his hand into his. If nothing else, this area was less dark—not exactly light, but with more of a soupy white fog.

"Akhlys!" Bob called.

The creature raised her head, and Percy's stomach screamed, Help me!

Her body was bad enough. She looked like the victim of a famine—limbs like sticks, swollen knees and knobby elbows, rags for clothes, broken fingernails and toenails. Dust was caked on her skin and piled on her shoulders as if she'd taken a shower at the bottom of an hourglass.

Her face was utter desolation. Her eyes were sunken and rheumy, pouring out tears. Her nose dripped like a waterfall. Her stringy gray hair was matted to her skull in greasy tufts, and her cheeks were raked and bleeding as if she'd been clawing herself.

Percy couldn't stand to meet her eyes, so he lowered his gaze. Across her knees lay an ancient shield—a battered circle of wood and bronze, painted with the likeness of Akhlys herself holding a shield, so the image seemed to go on forever, smaller and smaller.

"That shield," Percy murmured. "That's-."

"Oh, no," the old hag wailed. "The shield of Hercules. He painted me on its surface, so his enemies would see me in their final moments—the goddess of misery." She coughed so hard, it made Percy's chest hurt. "As if Hercules knew true misery. It's not even a good likeness!"

Percy gulped. When he and his friends had encountered Hercules at the Straits of Gibraltar, it hadn't gone well. The exchange had involved a lot of yelling, death threats, and high-velocity pineapples.

"What's his shield doing here?" Percy asked.

The goddess stared at him with her wet milky eyes. Her cheeks dripped blood, making red polka dots on her tattered dress. "He doesn't need it anymore, does he? It came here when his mortal body was burned. A reminder, I suppose, that no shield is sufficient. In the end, misery overtakes all of you. Even Hercules."

Percy inched closer to Hadrian. He tried to remember why they were here, but the sense of despair made it difficult to think. Hearing Akhlys speak, he no longer found it strange that she had clawed her own cheeks. The goddess radiated pure pain.

"Oh you wonderful child" Akhlys wailed as she looked at Hadrian. Instinctively, Percy pushed Hadrian behind him, hiding him from her view. "You're beautiful" Akhlys continued, "What more could I do to you? Why don't you just give in to me?"

Hadrian could only stare with wide eyes. Sure he'd had a pretty terrible life, but did the goddess of misery really have to make it sound so bad?

"Bob," Percy said, "we shouldn't have come here."

From somewhere inside Bob's uniform, the skeleton kitten mewled in agreement.

The Titan shifted and winced as if Small Bob was clawing his armpit. "Akhlys controls the Death Mist," he insisted. "She can hide you."

"Hide them?" Akhlys made a gurgling sound. She was either laughing or choking to death. "Why would I do that?"

"They must reach the Doors of Death," Bob said. "To return to the mortal world."

"Impossible!" Akhlys said. "The armies of Tartarus will find you. They will kill you."

Hadrian slicked back his hair, the color turning a boring brown as his fingers raked through, "So, I guess your death mist is pretty useless" he said.