𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

60

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧.

After entering the storm front, they plodded on for what seemed like hours, relying on the light of Jason's blade.

Dante could only see about five feet in front of him. In a strange way, the Dark Lands reminded him of San Francisco—on those summer afternoons when the fog bank rolled in like cold, wet packing material and swallowed Pacific Heights. Except here in Tartarus, the fog was made of ink.

Rocks loomed out of nowhere. Pits appeared at their feet, and Dante barely avoided falling in. Monstrous roars echoed in the gloom, but Dante couldn't tell where they came from. All he could be certain of was that the terrain was still sloping down.

Down seemed to be the only direction allowed in Tartarus. If Dante backtracked even a step, he felt tired and heavy, as if gravity were increasing to discourage him. Assuming that the entire pit was the body of Tartarus, Dante had a nasty feeling they were marching straight down his throat.

He was so preoccupied with that thought, he didn't notice the ledge until it was too late.

Jason yelled, "Whoa!" He grabbed for his arm, but Dante was already falling.

Fortunately, it was only a shallow depression. Most of it was filled with a monster blister. He had a soft landing on a warm bouncy surface and was feeling lucky—until he opened his eyes and found himself staring through a glowing gold membrane at another, much larger face.

He screamed and flailed, toppling sideways off the mound. His heart did a hundred jumping jacks.

Jason helped him to his feet. "You okay?"

He didn't trust himself to answer. If he opened his mouth, he might scream again, and that would be undignified.

But gods of Olympus... Curled in the membrane bubble in front of him was a fully formed Titan in golden armor, his skin the color of polished pennies. His eyes were closed, but he scowled so deeply he appeared to be on the verge of a bloodcurdling war cry. Even through the blister, Dante could feel the heat radiating from his body.

"Looks like Hyperion," Jason scowled.

Dante was about to suggest that they burst Hyperion's bubble before he woke up. He looked ready to pop out at any moment and start charbroiling everything in his path.

Then he glanced at Hippolytos. The mobster giant was staring at the Titan intensely.

"Hipp," Dante said, "we should go."

"He's my brother too, technically," The Giant said.

Dante bit back a curse. Of course. The Giants and the Titans were all children of Gaea even though they had different fathers. The Titans were the children of Gaea and Ouranos. And the giants, including Hipp were the children of Tartarus, great.

"Hipp," Dante tried again, "Hey, buddy? Look at me."

He softened his voice like he was talking to a child.

"What your brothers and sister have done to you, all the bullying, the having to prove yourself business, it's all bullshit." He didn't take his hand off his dagger while he talked. Just in case. "Family doesn't make you do things. They don't make you prove yourself."

Hipp seemed to consider it.

Dante was aware of Jason's gaze burning holes into the side of his skull.