Annais was the God among mortals, the death that came along with life. Now more than ever, she knew the cost of her existence, of what Hades had done when he chose to pursue her mother. Everything came down to her and the other Min girls; three who...
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CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ACHILLES HEEL
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IT WASN'T OFTEN THAT Annais could say she was happy to be a demigod, but she'd take near certain death any day over being a serving maiden.Don't get her wrong, Annais had nothing against them! In all honesty, she'd never had a reason to look twice, but by the Gods were their dresses and their sandals and their amphoras ridiculously uncomfortable! It was bad enough that she had to wear a silk white gown like some trussed-up young bride on the way to her wedding, but having to navigate a rocky path — at that, a path that was going uphill? Annais had never tripped over her own feet so many times in a row. It was embarrassing, dehumanising, downright f—
"Almost there, guys," Piper smiled, looking the picture of glowing youth in her matching dress with her mahogany hair pinned in an intricately braided spiral. Piper hadn't tripped once. Nor had Annabeth, which Annais found almost offensive. "You're doing great."
"Shut," Annais wheezed. "Up!"
Of course, Piper's frustrating smile refused to waver. She merely patted Annais on the arm and winced in sympathy when she stumbled, again, her amphora — this tall ceramic wine jar that Annabeth had insisted she use to conceal her sword; for some reason, she couldn't just use her ring. Oh, no. It seemed Annabeth liked seeing Annais struggle — rocking around haphazardly. Annais glared as Annabeth snorted. (Case in point!)
At least she wasn't the only one suffering. Jason lagged several yards behind them, wheezing like an accordion in his old-man disguise. With his wrinkled skin and bony limbs jutting in uncomfortable angles, Annais couldn't recognise her boyfriend in this state; which, really, was what they were going for. Still, that didn't mean she had to love the old-man odour that now filled the air every time he drew near. Or the thought of letting him anywhere close to her.
"Worst idea ever," he panted as he leaned against a nearby cedar tree. Annais had to take a step back, nose scrunched, her life flashing before her eyes when the hem of her dress dragged through the rocks. She was sure Aphrodite would be wailing in dismay at the sight of the dirt-brown hem, even more so at Annais' attempts to embrace her femininity. "Hazel's magic is too good. If I have to fight, I'll be useless."
"It won't come to that," Annabeth promised, glancing from Jason to Annais like she could hear the doubtful thoughts that sprang to Annais' brain in response. "We infiltrate the palace, we get the information we need, and we get out."
Annais huffed out a breath. "Easier said than done."
"Why don't we rest for a second?" Piper suggested, thankfully setting down her own amphora before Annabeth could refuse. Annais could've cried in relief. She slumped down on a nearby rocky ledge, the state of her dress be damned. Hopefully, the palace wouldn't pay her appearance much attention, so long as she could plaster on a pretty smile and look meek for a few minutes. "Jason can catch his breath. Annais—"
