Umbra

Chapter 43

Emilia was the only one not frozen.

Percy and Annabeth were staring up at Tartarus, completely paralyzed with fear. They weren't reacting to the horde of monsters now turned toward them, all waiting for Tartarus to act. The god of the pit flexed his fingers, examining his own polished black talons. He had no expression, but he straightened his shoulders as if he were pleased.

It is good to have form, he intoned. With these hands, I can eviscerate you.

His voice sounded like a backward recording– as if the words were being sucked into the vortex of his face rather than projected. In fact, everything seemed to be drawn toward the face of this god– the dim light, the poisonous clouds, the essence of the monsters. Every object on this vast plain had grown a vaporous comet's tail– all pointing toward Tartarus.

Emilia was trying to process how this could work in her favor. She could turn the trail into shadows, she could suck monsters directly into her spear to keep them away from her friends. If she were willing to take the risk, she could push them into Tartarus, make him absorb them.

He was taking his sweet time savoring his new form. It was the only reason he hadn't already vaporized Annabeth and Percy. The latter of the two dropped his sword, will completely gone. Tartarus hissed again– possibly laughing.

Your fear smells wonderful, said the god. I see the appeal of having a physical body with so many senses. Perhaps my beloved Gaea is right, wishing to wake from her slumber.

He stretched out his massive purple hand and might have plucked up Percy like a weed, but Bob interrupted. "Begone!" The Titan leveled his spear at the god. "You have no right to meddle!"

Meddle? Tartarus turned. I am the lord of all creatures of the darkness, puny Iapetus. I can do as I please.

His black cyclone face spun faster. The howling sound was so horrible, Emilia had to sweep shadows into her and her friends' ears to drown it out. Bob stumbled, the wispy comet tail of his life force growing longer as it was sucked toward the face of the god. He roared in defiance. He charged and thrust his spear at Tartarus's chest. Before it could connect, Tartarus swatted Bob aside like he was a pesky insect. The Titan went sprawling.

Why do you not disintegrate? Mused Tartarus. You are nothing. You are even weaker than Krios and Hyperion.

"I am Bob," said Bob.

Tartarus hissed. What is that? What is Bob?

"I choose to be more than Iapetus," said the Titan. "You do not control me. I am not like my brothers." The collar of his coveralls bulged. Small Bob leaped out. The kitten landed on the ground in front of his master, then arched his back and hissed at the lord of the abyss.

Small Bob began to grow, his form flickering until the little kitten had become a full-sized, translucent skeletal saber-toothed tiger. "Also," Bob announced, "I have a good cat."

No-Longer-Small Bob sprang at Tartarus, sinking his claws into Tartarus's thigh. The tiger scrambled up his leg, straight under the god's chain-link skirt. Tartarus stomped and howled, apparently no longer enamored with having a physical form. Meanwhile, Bob thrust his spear into the god's side, right below his breastplate.

Tartarus roared. He swatted at Bob, but the Titan backed out of reach. Bob thrust out his fingers. His spear yanked itself free of the god's flesh and flew back to Bob's hand. Small Bob dropped out of Tartarus's skirt. He ran to his master's side, his saber-toothed fangs dripping with golden ichor.

You will die first, Iapetus, decided Tartarus. Afterward, I will add your soul to my armor, where it will slowly dissolve, over and over, in eternal agony.