𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

61

𝐉𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 closed in for the kill.

Sure, he was terrified. He didn't like the odds of three against several dozen. But at least he understood fighting. Wandering through the darkness, waiting to be attacked—that had been driving him crazy.

Besides, he and Dante had fought together many times. And now they had a Giant on their side. Mostly.

"Back off." Jason jabbed his sword at the nearest shriveled hag, but she only sneered.

We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.

Dante pressed against his shoulder. Jason had forgotten how much he missed their casual touches. "Don't touch them," he warned. "They're the spirits of curses."

"I don't like curses," Hipp decided. The skeleton kitten Hoop disappeared inside his tracksuit. Smart cat.

The Giant swept his spear in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, but they came in again like the tide.

We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you.

The firewater in Jason's stomach started crawling up his throat. He wished Tartarus had better beverage options.

"I appreciate the offer," he said. "But Dante would kill me if I accepted curses from strangers."

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades. Jason cut her in two, but as soon as she vaporized, the scar Ephialtes and Otis had made straight down his sternum flared with pain like it was reopening. Jason stumbled back, clamping his hand to his chest. His fingers came away wet and red.

"Fuck, Grace," Dante stared at him, "You're bleeding." Which was kind of obvious to him at that point.

Queasiness almost knocked him over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.

The giants. He thought.

The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.

Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon the Giants. So many curses have been leveled at you, Jason Grace. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!

Somehow he stayed on his feet. The blood stopped spreading, but he still felt like he had a hot metal curtain rod sticking through his ribs. His sword arm was heavy and weak.

"I don't understand," he muttered.

Hipp's voice seemed to echo from the end of a long tunnel: "If you kill one, it gives you a curse."

"But if we don't kill them..." Dante said.

"They'll kill us anyway," Jason guessed.

Choose! the arai cried. Will you be crushed like the Gegenees? Or disintegrated like the basilisks you slaughtered? You have spread so much death and suffering, Jason Grace. Let us repay you!

The winged hags pressed in, their breath sour, their eyes burning with hatred.

If they really embodied the dying curses of every enemy Jason had ever destroyed... then Jason was in serious trouble. He'd faced a lot of enemies.