SEQUAL TO EVERYWHERE EVERYTHING
BOOK TWO OF THREE !!!
Mitchell didn't expect to wake up from a nightmare, only to find himself in a real one. When he finds Percy's bed empty in the middle of the night, he freaks out.
Mitchell will do whatever it tak...
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MITCHELL LITERALLY STUMBLED OVER THE second Titan. After entering the storm front, they plodded on for what seemed like hours, relying on the light of Percy's Celestial bronze blade, and on Bob, who glowed faintly in the dark like some sort of crazy janitor angel.
Mitchell could only see about five feet in front of him. Rocks loomed out of nowhere. Pits appeared at their feet, and Mitchell barely avoided falling in. Monstrous roars echoed in the gloom, but he 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 Mitchell 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, he 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.
Percy yelled, "Whoa!" He grabbed for Mitchell's arm, but he was already falling.
Fortunately, it was only a shallow depression. Most of it was filled with a monster blister. Mitchell 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.
"Oh fuck," He moaned in disgust, doubling over and holding his stomach.
Percy helped him to his feet. "You okay?"
Mitchell didn't trust himself to answer. If he opened his mouth, he might throw up, 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 armour, his skin the colour 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, Mitchell could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Hyperion," Percy said. "I hate that guy."
Mitchell's shoulder suddenly ached from an old wound. During the Battle of Manhattan, Percy had fought this Titan at the Reservoir — water against fire. It had been the first time Percy had summoned a hurricane — which wasn't something Mitchell would ever forget. "I thought Grover turned this guy into a maple tree."
"Yeah," Percy agreed. "Maybe the maple tree died, and he wound up back here?"
Mitchell remembered how Hyperion had summoned fiery explosions and how many satyrs and nymphs he'd destroyed before Percy and Grover stopped him. He 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 Mitchell glanced at Bob. The silvery Titan was studying Hyperion with a frown of concentration — maybe recognition. Their faces looked so much alike.
