𝑲𝑰𝑵𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑫 • 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐶𝑌 𝐽𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑂𝑁 [2]

XVII

Percy was gone all of five minutes before Elaine couldn't stand it anymore.

"We have to go get him." She insisted.

Annabeth shook her head. "We promised to stay here."

"Staying here doesn't matter if he gets himself killed, does it?" She countered.

She looked to Rachel and Nico as if to say, Back me up here, will you?

"I agree with Elaine. We should just get him and go." Rachel said.

Elaine nodded. "Come with me or stay, but I'm going after him." She said.

"Hold on. If you think it's so important, then we'll do it. Together." Annabeth said.

Their gazes turned to Nico. He was playing with the sheath wrapped around his waist, not paying much attention to the back and forth.

"Nico, do you want to come with us?" Annabeth asked.

He looked up confusedly.

"Didn't we say we'd stay here?" He asked.

"Nico, catch up. Something's wrong about this place. We need to get Percy and leave." Elaine said.

He grumbled under his breath about never getting a break. "Fine. Come on."

Rachel led them through a dark tunnel. The closer they got to the end, the stronger the smell of eucalyptus became. Elaine had to cover her nose with the collar of her shirt to stop herself from gagging.

A blast of cold air hit them as they emerged.

They were standing near the top of Mount Tam. The Pacific Ocean spread out below, gray under a cloudy sky. About twenty feet downhill, two telekhines and Ethan Nakamura were examining something long and thin.

It was a scythe-a six foot-long blade curved like a crescent moon, with a wooden handle wrapped in leather. The blade glinted two different colors—steel and bronze. It was the weapon of Kronos, the one he'd used to slice up his father, Ouranos, before the gods had used it against him and casted him into Tartarus. Now the weapon was re-forged.

She glanced up at the mountain's peak, where a black marble fortress loomed, the same one she'd seen begin rising from shadows last winter.

It reminded her of an oversized mausoleum, with walls fifty feet high. She had no idea how mortals could miss the fact that it was there. But then again, everything below the summit seemed fuzzy to her, as if there were a thick veil between her and the lower half of the mountain.

There was a strong magical presence—really powerful Mist. Above her, the sky swirled into a huge funnel cloud. She couldn't see Atlas, but she could hear him groaning in the distance, still laboring under the weight of the sky, just beyond the fortress.