The Rise of Gaea

Percy 15

     Percy choked. "Your WHAT??!!"

     Luke burst out laughing. "Got ya! I was actually talking about Annabeth; I don't have any biological children."

     "That needs a bit more explanation, Luke." Percy spluttered.

     "Thalia and I always thought of Annabeth as a complicated cross of sister and daughter." Luke explained. "I don't know if you remember, but before I ... well, died, I asked Annabeth if she ever loved me. I didn't have enough time to explain what I meant. I didn't mean love love me, I meant love me as her adoptive brother/father."

     Percy massaged his throat, trying to soothe the soreness. "I guess that makes sense."

     "Go to sleep, Percy, I've got first watch."

     "Again?"

     "Percy..."

     "Fine." Percy grumbled, trying to make a comfortable place to sleep on the warm gross skin. "As long as you don't spring on me that you actually got with Athena or something."

     "Well..."

     "Luke!"

     "Kidding!"

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     The worst part of having a traveling companion you can't see is the heavy feeling of loneliness. Percy felt it's crushing weight as he trudged through an increasingly foggy stretch of Tartarus, trying not to gag as the putrid gases burned his lungs.

     Luke would occasionally speak, or touch Percy on the shoulder to reassure him, but a little voice in Percy's head suggested that Luke was only a figment of Percy's imagination at this point. That the real Luke had abandoned him. Percy tried to ignore the voice, but it persisted.

     The fog was getting thicker and thicker, when Percy sensed a being in front of them.

     He just had time to discern that the blood was icor, the blood of the gods, when a smooth feminine voice purred, "Well done, Perseus."

     Out of the fog's misty depths stepped a tall woman with inky black skin and indigo hair like the night sky. Her eyes were twin shining moons, and her dress was a swirling galaxy of stars.

     Despite her beauty, Percy felt a thrumming low in his stomach. Something wasn't right.

     The woman raised her arms, the long sleeves of her gown trailing to the ground. "I am Nyx, primordial goddess of night."

     Percy surveyed her skeptically. But before he could say anything, Nyx seemed to read his mind.

     "I have many forms. I have merely chosen to appear in this form so as not to upset the demigod mind you have worked so hard to protect, Perseus." Nyx smiled coldly, though amusement danced in her eyes.

     Percy inwardly cursed. If Nyx kept on like this, she would reveal the Mist wrap to Luke! Thankfully, he didn't question her statement.

     "What do you want?" Luke asked bravely.

     Nyx blinked slowly, her long ebony eyelashes brushing her skin. "Nothing, I suppose." She smirked a little to herself. "You must pass through my palace, the Mansion of Night in order to reach the Doors you seek."

     Percy waited for the ultimatum, or for Nyx to just strike them down, and was incredulous when it didn't come. "You're letting us go?"

     Nyx laughed airily. "Did you expect me to kill you? I'm too refined for that. There's plenty else in this realm to kill you. Enter my palace, Perseus, Luke."

     It seemed too easy. Percy knew a trap when he saw one, and this had all the makings of a trap. He eyed the pit behind Nyx, and the glowing doorway it held. "Are you sure?" he whispered to Luke.

     Luke nudged him. "Don't question it, Percy. Let's go."

Nyx examined her long pointed nails. "Listen to your friend, Perseus."

     Percy took in a deep breath, and walked to the edge of the cliff. What other choice did he have?

     Luke gripped his arm. "On three, okay?"

     Percy nodded.

     "One, two, THREE!"

     They jumped, twisting in the air to aim for the doorway beneath them.

     Percy felt a stab of forbidding when Nyx's cruel laughter sounded from above them. But it was too late to go back.

     Percy landed heavily within the doorway, his legs stinging with the impact. He heard Luke land beside him. This could not be good. If they had miraculously made it in, then the inside must be really bad.

     The hall they had landed in was paneled with obsidian. Shadows reflected darkly in the depths of it's reflective surface, wavering and twitching. The ceiling seemed to be made of shadow itself, and there was no way of knowing how tall it was. The only light came from regular torches of violet flame that lined the hall. The floor was chilly black metal, Stygian iron.

     "Holy Hermes." Luke muttered.

     Percy extended his sensed. There didn't seem to be any monsters, or any beings at all, near them.

     "We're alone." Percy said aloud. He could sense a river far ahead of them, rippling waters cloaked in open air. That was the exit.

     Ahead were three identical corridors, but the call of the open water came from the path all the way to the right.

     "We go right." He said, trying to inject a note of confidence in his voice.

     Luke seemed to trust his word, or just knew that there were no other options. Again. "Lead on, Perce."

     They crept down into the corridor, which was perfectly identical to the hall. Percy could start to see how easy it would be to get lost, and was thankful for his water-sensing ability.

     In the faint illumination from a torch, Percy saw something near the end of the corridor. His heart jumped to his throat: he would know that hair anywhere!

     Mind racing, feet pounding toward her, terror lacing up his spine, he exclaimed, "Annabeth?!"