Wildfires, Heroes of Olympus ₂

060, trust you will be dealt with

CHAPTER        SIXTY
PERSEUS  JACKSON

Percy 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 Sylvie had fought together many times. And now they had a Titan on their side.

"Back off." Percy jabbed Riptide 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.

Sylvie pressed against his shoulder. "Don't touch them," she warned. "They're the spirits of curses."

"Nemo doesn't like curses," Nemo decided. The skeleton kitten Marlin disappeared inside her chiton. Smart cat.

The Titaness swept her wiper spear in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, but they came in against 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 Percy's stomach started crawling up his throat. He wished Tartarus had better beverage options, or maybe a tree that dispensed antacid fruit.

"I appreciate the offer," he said. "But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."

"His mom is very knowledgeable," Sylvie nodded.

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades. Percy cut her in two, but as soon as she vaporized, the sides of his chest flared with pain. He stumbled back, clamping his hand to his rib cage. His fingers came away wet and red.

"Perce, oh, gods!" Sylvie cried. "Both sides! You're bleeding on both sides?"

It was true. The left and right hems of his tattered shirt were sticky with blood, as if a javelin had run him through.

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

He flashed through his memories for an encounter that fit this description, but there were too many. Percy had been attacked too many times. He'd slain too many monsters. It made him feel awful—he'd lost track of the creatures he'd killed.

"Is this... how I killed it...?" Percy said.

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

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