The Veiled Legacy | PJO - Book Two

twelve

ARIANNA MAKES MISERY MISERABLE

Ariana missed Bob.

She'd got used to having the Titan on his side, lighting their way with his silver hair and his fearsome war broom.

Now their only guide was an emaciated corpse lady with serious self-esteem issues.

As they struggled across the dusty plain, the fog became so thick that Ariana had to resist the urge to swat it away with her hands.

The only reason she was able to follow Akhlys's path was because poisonous plants sprang up wherever she walked.

If they were still on the body of Tartarus, Ariana figured they must be on the bottom of his foot - a rough, calloused expanse where only the most disgusting plant life grew.

Finally they arrived at the end of the big toe. At least that's what it looked like to Ariana. The fog dissipated, and they found themselves on a peninsula that jutted out over a pitch-black void.

"Here we are." Akhlys turned and leered at them.

Blood from her cheeks dripped on her dress. Her sickly eyes looked moist and swollen but somehow excited. Can Misery look excited?

"Uh .. great." Percy asked. "Where is here?"

"The verge of final death." Akhlys said. "Where Night meets the void below Tartarus."

Annabeth inched forward and peered over the cliff. "I thought there was nothing below Tartarus."

"Oh, certainly there is .." Akhlys coughed. "Even Tartarus had to rise from somewhere. This is the edge of the earliest darkness, which was my mother. Below lies the realm of Chaos, my father. Here, you are closer to nothingness than any mortal has ever been. Can you not feel it?"

Ariana knew what she meant. The void seemed to be pulling at her, leaching the breath from her lungs and the oxygen from her blood.

She looked at Pecry and Annabeth and saw that theor lips were tinged blue.

"We can't stay here." Ariana said.

"No, indeed!" Akhlys said. "Don't you feel the Death Mist? Even now, you pass between. Look!"

White smoke gathered around Ariana's feet. As it coiled up her legs, she realized the smoke wasn't
surrounding her. It was coming from her. Her whole body was dissolving.

She held up her hands and found they were fuzzy and indistinct. She couldn't even tell how many fingers she had. Hopefully still ten.

Ariana turned to Percy and Annabeth and stifled a yelp. "You're - uh -"

Ariana couldn't say it. They looked dead.

Their skin were sallow, their eye sockets dark and sunken. Their hair had dried into a skein of cobwebs.

Both of them looked like they'd been stuck in a cool, dark mausoleum for decades, slowly withering into a desiccated husk.

When Annabeth turned to look at Ariana, her features momentarily blurred into mist.

Ariana's blood moved like sap in her veins.

For years, she had worried about Percy and Annabeth dying. When you're a demigod, that goes with the territory.

Most half-bloods don't live long. You always knew that the next monster you fought could be your last. But seeing Percy and Annabeth like this was too painful.

Ariana would rather stand in the River Phlegethon, or get attacked by arai, or be trampled by giants.

"Oh, gods." Annabeth sobbed. "Ariana, Percy, the way you look ..."