𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄, PJ2

𝟎𝟏𝟐.𝟒

When Annabeth woke up she told Juliet about her dream, both of them had no clue for a while until after eating her food Annabeth wrote and sent the message thanks to Hermes's shrine, that message was a sense of relief, at least everyone now knew they were alive.

They had been walking for so long that time stopped meaning anything. Maybe hours. Maybe days. Maybe Tartarus just wanted them to think they were making progress, when really it was stretching the path beneath their feet like a cruel joke.

Juliet didn't even know what was real anymore.

Shapes pulsed at the edges of her vision—shadows that looked like people she knew, voices that sounded familiar until they twisted into something wrong. Sometimes she blinked and saw the world above; the Argo II's deck, the glittering sea, Percy leaning on the railing laughing at something stupid Leo said. Then she swallowed, blinked again, and the image melted into red fog and dripping stone.

Bob talked as they walked, his deep voice echoing strangely through the chasms.

"Lady of Night," he said. "She will give you death mist. It will hide you. Help you. Maybe."

Juliet didn't care. Or maybe she cared too much and couldn't afford to. Everything in her head felt like static, like someone had turned the volume up too loud on thoughts she couldn't shut off.

Annabeth noticed—she always noticed—and drifted a little closer without saying anything. She didn't touch Juliet, not yet, because down here even comfort could crack someone open. But she kept pace beside her, steady and sure, like an anchor you didn't have to look at to know it was there.

Juliet's foot caught on a jagged stone and she stumbled, bracing herself against the blistering ground as a fresh wave of visions slammed into her—Percy drowning, her father's voice crying out, hands dragging her into red water. Too fast. Too loud. Too real.

"Hey." Annabeth's voice was steady, low, cutting through the haze. "Juliet. Look at me."

Juliet forced her eyes open.

Annabeth's face was tired—bone-deep exhausted—but focused. Present. Real.

"We're almost there," she said. It might've been a lie. Maybe it wasn't. "Just stay with me, okay?"

Juliet nodded, though she wasn't sure if she actually could. All she could do was put one foot in front of the other and trust Annabeth to understand the pieces she couldn't say out loud.

So she walked.

Bob had also gotten a kitten attached to him, small bob that they had found on the way. They had been walking sideways by bob's command when Annabeth stopped them.

"What is it?" Julie coughed out.

Bob turned and looked back, confused. "We are stopping?"

Annabeth held up her hand for silence. She wasn't sure what had set her off. Nothing looked different. Then she realized the tree trunk was quivering. She wondered momentarily if it was the kitten's purr, but Small Bob had fallen asleep on Large Bob's shoulder. A few yards away, another tree shuddered.

"Something's moving above us," Annabeth whispered. "Gather up."

Bob and Juliet closed ranks with her, standing back to back. Annabeth strained her eyes, trying to see above them in the dark, but nothing moved. She had almost decided she was being paranoid when the first monster dropped to the ground only five feet away.

Annabeth's first thought: The Furies.

The creature looked almost exactly like one: a wrinkled hag with bat-like wings, brass talons and glowing red eyes. She wore a tattered dress of black silk, and her face was twisted and ravenous, like a demonic grandmother in the mood to kill.