CARNIFEX. jason grace

04. IN THE NAME OF ROME

Three months.

Aisara had been in Tartarus for three months.

It had been enough to break her.

Tartarus is an amalgamation of blood, glass, and violence. Tartarus is being five again, alone against the monsters, wiping blood dribbling from her eyes, as the air stings and burns.

"Is there anybody here?" Aisara had rasped, when she had first fallen. The glass dug into her feet, the fire breathing in her lungs.

Healing is burning. Aisara had known that the moment she drank in the lake. To heal is to sterilize. To heal is to burn.

But nobody ever answered her call. Not the graecus who fostered Kronos, nor the many who had fallen before Aisara. Not the Romans murderers or thieves, nor the gods who had stolen from Aisara.

Only monsters.

Every morning, a monster ripped her to shreds. It didn't matter which. Arai, titan, cyclops, hellhound—each one tore into Aisara, crushed her heart, and waited for her to regenerate. Aisara coughed up blood, pleading.

"Don't you understand?" Akhlys had laughed when she'd seen the once hero, now deceased. Aisara had clawed her way into the only structure she'd seen, hoping for asylum. "Villains go to the fields. Only monsters come to Tartarus."

✵

Now, on a burning chariot, Aisara can only taste blood in her mouth.

"This is so cool!" Leo shouts. He spits a pegasus feather from his mouth. Aisara grimaces. "Where are we going?"

Annabeth doesn't even turn to reply. Despite all the time that's passed, Annabeth's gaze hasn't changed. Unflinching.

"A safe place," Annabeth replies. "The only safe place for us. Camp Half-Blood."

In the background, Butch flicks the reins. The world speeds at a million miles per hour, the wind rushing through their hair. Aisara grips the chariot, tight.

"Half-Blood?" Piper's voice cuts through the wind. "Is that suppose to be—"

Lightning flashes.

The chariot lurches. Piper stumbles, but Aisara's quick. She grabs her arm, righting her quickly. Piper gives her a quick glance of thanks, but it's shaded by something else. Aisara shakes her head, turning toward the distance.

The wind makes her eyes water, hair whipping. But even through the tears, she can see it.

The venti spin in a whirlwind. A black cluster of clouds form into horses. Aisara's immediately on guard as they charge forward.

Deliver the boy to me. Unharmed.

Aisara turns, opening her wings. "I'll take care of some," she says over the wind. She draws her Stygian swords. "I'll meet you back at Camp."

Annabeth turns to her. "Aisara, wait—"

Aisara doesn't. She takes off.

The first venti is easy enough to kill. She dives toward it, slashing in the wind. It disintegrates. With the momentum, Aisara reaches for the second—

Slam.

Something barrels straight into Aisara. Solid. Not a venti.

A pegasus.

It's the last thing Aisara sees as she drops. A pegasus, chocolate brown, with wings that could split a soldier in two.

And a rider—