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CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN xlvii. you mean nothing in the grand scheme of things _______
Getting killed by Tartarus didn't seem like much of an honor.
As Sebastian stared up at his dark whirlpool face, he decided he'd rather die in some less memorable way - maybe going peacefully in his sleep at age eighty, after a nice quiet life with Percy. Yes, that sounded good.
He could still have that, the selfish voice in his head reminded him. He just had to say the words and Tartarus would spare them. He could have that simple life he always wanted.
Sebastian was dimly aware of the army of monsters swirling around them, but after their initial roar or triumph, the horde had fallen silent. They could have ripped Percy and Sebastian to pieces by now. Instead, the monsters kept their distance, waiting for Tartarus to act.
The god of the pit flexed his fingers, examining his own polished black talons. He had no expression, but he straightened his shoulders as if he were pleased.
It is good to have form, he intoned. With these hands, I can eviscerate you.
His voice sounded like a backward recording - as if the words were being sucked into the vortex of his face rather than projected. In fact, everything seemed to be drawn toward the face of this god - the dim light, the poisonous clouds, the essence of the monsters, even Sebastian's own fragile life force. He looked around and realised that every object on this vast plain had grown a vaporous comet's tail - all pointing toward Tartarus.
Next to Sebastian, Percy did something he'd never done before. He dropped his sword. It just fell out of his hand and hit the ground with a thud. Death Mist no longer shrouded his face, but he still had the complexion of a corpse. Tartarus hissed again, possibly laughing, as he turned his horrid face to Sebastian.
This is the one you care so much for? Tartarus seemed to find it amusing. I can still spare his life if you agree to my terms. You know what will happen if you refuse.
Sebastian did know. He had seen it, after all.
His mind flashed to that dream he had when he was twelve years old, grieving his mother's untimely death.
He'd been in Tartarus, Percy at his side. They both looked like they were already dead, but they were still breathing. That didn't last for long though. Tartarus had Sebastian right where he wanted him - helpless with a sword against his throat. Sebastian struggled but Tartarus was too strong for him. The primordial simply laughed at Sebastian's futile attempts.
Percy was not in a better situation. Monsters were surrounding him. Percy killed some but there were so many. An impossible amount.
You should have taken my deal, Tartarus had hissed in Sebastian's ears. Kill him!
