𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

73

𝐇𝐚𝐳𝐞𝐥 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐫. She raised her spatha and charged.

Apparently, Clytius hadn't expected her to be quite so suicidal. He was slow raising his sword. By the time he slashed, Hazel had ducked between his legs and jabbed her Imperial gold blade into his gluteus maximus.

Clytius roared and arched his back, waddling away from her.

Dante willed the Mist to swirl around Hazel, hissing as it met the giant's black smoke.

He covered her, lent her the Mist as a protective shroud. He couldn't let the darkness touch his friend. Like he had done in Tartarus, he surrounded the enemy with the white Mist, choking him like he had tried to choke Jason with his dark Mist.

Hazel sprinted toward the Doors of Death. Her blade shattered the chains on the left side like they were made of ice. She lunged to the right, but Clytius yelled, NO!

By sheer luck, she wasn't cut in half. The flat of the giant's blade caught her in the chest and sent her flying. She slammed into the wall Dante felt his blood run cold in his veins.

Leo and Dante yelled her name. For one horrible second, Hazel didn't move. The goddess Hecate's form flickered like a candle in wind. As if she was about to disappear. Dante felt rage filling him like a storm.

The gods did nothing, they helped no one except themselves. They were selfish bastards, and they expected Heroes to lose their lives again and again doing work for them. Dante had heard the story of what happened to the twin giants in the colosseum. How Bacchus hadn't helped until the very last second.

But Dante also thought of Luke. The boy Annabeth had told him about. The first son of his father that had gone down this path. He wasn't Luke. That's what he had promised Annabeth.

He forced himself to swallow back his anger.

He saw Hazel struggle to her feet. Her expression flickered with pain. Her right side seemed badly hurt. Her sword lay on the ground about five feet away. She staggered toward it.

"Clytius!" she shouted.

The giant turned from Leo and the others. When he saw her limping forward, he laughed.

A good try, Hazel Levesque, Clytius admitted. You did better than I anticipated. But magic cannot defeat me, and you do not have sufficient strength. Hecate has failed you and your friend, as she fails all of her followers in the end.

The Mist around Dante was thinning. He couldn't keep it much longer.

Hecate stood with her torches, watching and waiting.

Hazel glared at her with malice and threw her sword—not at the giant, but at the Doors of Death. The chains on the right side shattered. Hazel collapsed in agony as the Doors shuddered and disappeared in a flash of purple light.

Clytius roared so loudly that a half dozen stelae fell from the ceiling and shattered.

"That was for my brother, Nico," Hazel gasped. "And for destroying my father's altar."

You have forfeited your right to a quick death, the giant snarled. I will suffocate you in darkness, slowly, painfully. Hecate cannot help you. NO ONE can help you!

The goddess raised her torches. "I would not be so certain, Clytius. Hazel's friends simply needed a little time to reach her—time you have given them with your boasting and bragging."