The House of Hades

PERCY FELT HOMESICK FOR THE SWAMP.

He never thought he’d miss sleeping in a giant’s leather bed in a drakon-bone hut in a festering cesspool, but right now that sounded like Elysium.

He and Annabeth and Bob stumbled along in the darkness, the air thick and cold, the ground alternating patches of pointy rocks and pools of muck. The terrain seemed to be designed so that Percy could never let his guard down. Even walking ten feet was exhausting.

Percy had started out from the giant’s hut feeling strong again, his head clear, his belly full of drakon jerky from their packs of provisions. Now his legs were sore. Every muscle ached. He pulled a makeshift tunic of drakon leather over his shredded T-shirt, but it did nothing to keep out the chill.

His focus narrowed to the ground in front of him. Nothing existed except for that and Annabeth at his side.

Whenever he felt like giving up, plopping himself down, and dying (which was, like, every ten minutes), he reached over and took her hand, just to remember there was warmth in the world.

After Annabeth’s talk with Damasen, Percy was worried about her. Annabeth didn’t give in to despair easily, but as they walked, she wiped tears from her eyes, trying not to let Percy see. He knew she hated it when her plans didn’t work out. She was convinced they needed Damasen’s help, but the giant had turned them down.

Part of Percy was relieved. He was concerned enough about Bob’s staying on their side once they reached the Doors of Death. He wasn’t sure he wanted a giant as his wingman, even if that giant could cook a mean bowl of stew.

He wondered what had happened after they left Damasen’s hut. He hadn’t heard their pursuers in hours, but he could sense their hatred…especially Polybotes’s. That giant was back there somewhere, following, pushing them deeper into Tartarus.

Percy tried to think of good things to keep his spirits up—the lake at Camp Half-Blood, the time he’d kissed Annabeth underwater. He tried to imagine the two of them at New Rome together, walking through the hills and holding hands. But Camp Jupiter and Camp Half-Blood both seemed like dreams. He felt as if only Tartarus existed. This was the real world—death, darkness, cold, pain. He’d been imagining all the rest.

He shivered. No. That was the pit speaking to him, sapping his resolve. He wondered how Nico had survived down here alone without going insane. That kid had more strength than Percy had given him credit for. The deeper they traveled, the harder it became to stay focused.

“This place is worse than the River Cocytus,” he muttered.

“Yes,” Bob called back happily. “Much worse! It means we are close.”

Close to what? Percy wondered. But he didn’t have the strength to ask. He noticed Small Bob the cat had hidden himself in Bob’s coveralls again, which reinforced Percy’s opinion that the kitten was the smartest one in their group.

Annabeth laced her fingers through his. In the light of his bronze sword, her face was beautiful.

“We’re together,” she reminded him. “We’ll get through this.”

He’d been so worried about lifting her spirits, and here she was reassuring him.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “Piece of cake.”

“But next time,” she said, “I want to go somewhere different on a date.”

“Paris was nice,” he recalled.

She managed a smile. Months ago, before Percy got amnesia, they’d had dinner in Paris one night, compliments of Hermes. That seemed like another lifetime.

“I’d settle for New Rome,” she offered. “As long as you’re there with me.”

Man, Annabeth was awesome. For a moment, Percy actually remembered what it was like to feel happy. He had an amazing girlfriend. They could have a future together.

Then the darkness dispersed with a massive sigh, like the last breath of a dying god. In front of them was a clearing—a barren field of dust and stones. In the center, about twenty yards away, knelt the gruesome figure of a woman, her clothes tattered, her limbs emaciated, her skin leathery green. Her head was bent as she sobbed quietly, and the sound shattered all Percy’s hopes.

He realized that life was pointless. His struggles were for nothing. This woman cried as if mourning the death of the entire world.

“We’re here,” Bob announced. “Akhlys can help.”