madness and ecstasy // leo valdez

-waiting in the lobby-

So far, their deathly mist camouflage plan and whatever had happened to Tony seemed to be working. So, naturally, Percy expected an epic punch in the guts last-minute fail.

Fifty feet from the Doors of Death, he and Annabeth froze.

"Oh, gods," Annabeth murmured, tipping back on her heels with screwed up shimmery eyes and an expression Percy felt deeply. Shell shocked and sick and transparent. "They're the same."

Percy knew what she meant. Framed in Stygian iron, the magical portal was a set of elevator doors—two panels of silver and black etched with art deco designs and a little button to the side. Except for the fact that the colours were inverted, they looked exactly like the elevators in the Empire State Building, the entrance to Olympus.

Seeing them, Percy felt so homesick, he couldn't breathe. He didn't just miss Mount Olympus. He missed everything he'd left behind: New York City, Camp Half-Blood, his room with holes in the walls and skateboards under his bed. His cabin, low and stout covered in sea glass chimes. his mom and stepdad and the easy feeling they brought. Grover. His eyes stung. He didn't trust himself to talk.

The Doors of Death seemed like a personal insult, designed to remind him of everything he couldn't have.

As he got over his initial shock and longing for his scrappy posters and best friend, he noticed other details: the frost spreading from the base of the Doors, the purplish glow in the air around them, and the chains that held them fast.

Cords of black iron ran down either side of the frame, like rigging lines on a suspension bridge. They were tethered to hooks embedded in the fleshy ground. The two Titans, Krios and Hyperion, stood guard at the anchor points, picking at their nails and teeth in a bored fashion

As Percy watched, the entire frame shuddered. Black lightning flashed into the sky. The chains shook, and the Titans planted their feet on the hooks to keep them secure, staring into the distance with glazed milky eyes. The Doors slid open, revealing the gilded interior of an elevator car.

Percy tensed and reached for Annabeth, ready to charge forward, but Bob planted a hand on his shoulder. "Wait," he cautioned.

Hyperion glanced towards the doors and then yelled to the surrounding crowd: "Group A-22! Hurry up, you sluggards!"

A dozen Cyclopes rushed forward, waving little red tickets and shouting excitedly. They squished themselves into a hazardous queue and Hyperion took the first one's ticket, peeling off a little strip to the side and then dropping it to the ground. More followed quickly. They shouldn't have been able to fit inside those human-sized doors, but as the Cyclopes got close, their bodies distorted and shrank, the Doors of Death sucking them inside.

The Titan Krios jabbed his thumb against the up button on the elevator's right side. The Doors slid closed with a small creak. The frame shuddered again. Dark lightning faded.

"You must understand how it works," Bob muttered. He addressed the kitten on Tony's shoulder, maybe so the other monsters wouldn't wonder who he was talking to. Because a floating cat makes so much more sense than just being crazy. "Each time the Doors open, they try to teleport to a new location. Thanatos made them this way, so only he could find them. But now they are chained. The Doors cannot relocate."

"Then we cut the chains," Annabeth whispered fiercely, and then was blown into a fuzzy cloud as a harpy swooped over her head.

Percy looked at the blazing form of Hyperion. The last time he'd fought the Titan, it had taken every ounce of his strength. Even then Percy had almost died. Now there were two Titans, with several thousand monsters for backup.