The House of Hades

NYX LASHED HER WHIP AGAIN. The darkness congealed around her. On either side, an army of shadows appeared—more dark-winged arai, which Annabeth was not thrilled to see; a withered man who must have been Geras, the god of old age; and a younger woman in a black toga, her eyes gleaming and her smile like a serial killer’s—no doubt Eris, the goddess of strife. More kept appearing: dozens of demons and minor gods, each one the spawn of Night.

Annabeth wanted to run. She was facing a brood of horrors that could snap anyone’s sanity. But if she ran, she would die.

Next to her, Percy’s breathing turned shallow. Even through his misty ghoul disguise, Annabeth could tell he was on the verge of panic. She had to stand her ground for both of them.

I am a daughter of Athena, she thought. I control my own mind.

She imagined a mental frame around what she was seeing. She told herself it was just a movie—a scary movie, sure, but it could not hurt her. She was in control.

“Yeah, not bad,” she admitted. “I guess we could get one picture for the scrapbook, but I don’t know. You guys are so…dark. Even if I used a flash, I’m not sure it would come out.”

“Y-yeah,” Percy managed. “You guys aren’t photogenic.”

“You—miserable—tourists!” Nyx hissed. “How dare you not tremble before me! How dare you not whimper and beg for my autograph and a picture for your scrapbook! You want newsworthy? My son Hypnos once put Zeus to sleep! When Zeus pursued him across the earth, bent on vengeance, Hypnos hid in my palace for safety, and Zeus did not follow. Even the king of Olympus fears me!”

“Uh-huh.” Annabeth turned to Percy. “Well, it’s getting late. We should probably get lunch at one of those restaurants the tour guide recommended. Then we can find the Doors of Death.”

“Aha!” Nyx cried in triumph. Her brood of shadows stirred and echoed: “Aha! Aha!”

“You wish to see the Doors of Death?” Nyx asked. “They lie at the very heart of Tartarus. Mortals such as you could never reach them, except through the halls of my palace—the Mansion of Night!”

She gestured behind her. Floating in the abyss, maybe three hundred feet below, was a doorway of black marble, leading into some sort of large room.

Annabeth’s heart pounded so strongly she felt it in her toes. That was the way forward—but it was so far down, an impossible jump. If they missed, they would fall into Chaos and be scattered into nothingness—a final death with no do-over. Even if they could make the jump, the goddess of night and her most fearsome children stood in their way.

With a jolt, Annabeth realized what needed to happen. Like everything she’d ever done, it was a long shot. In a way, that calmed her down. A crazy idea in the face of death?

Okay, her body seemed to say, relaxing. This is familiar territory.

She managed a bored sigh. “I suppose we could do one picture, but a group shot won’t work. Nyx, how about one of you with your favorite child? Which one is that?”

The brood rustled. Dozens of horrible glowing eyes turned toward Nyx.

The goddess shifted uncomfortably, as if her chariot were heating up under her feet. Her shadow horses huffed and pawed at the void.

“My favorite child?” she asked. “All my children are terrifying!”

Percy snorted. “Seriously? I’ve met the Fates. I’ve met Thanatos. They weren’t so scary. You’ve got to have somebody in this crowd who’s worse than that.”

“The darkest,” Annabeth said. “The most like you.”

“I am the darkest,” hissed Eris. “Wars and strife! I have caused all manner of death!”

“I am darker still!” snarled Geras. “I dim the eyes and addle the brain. Every mortal fears old age!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Annabeth said, trying to ignore her chattering teeth. “I’m not seeing enough dark. I mean, you’re the children of Night! Show me dark!”

The horde of arai wailed, flapping their leathery wings and stirring up clouds of blackness. Geras spread his withered hands and dimmed the entire abyss. Eris breathed a shadowy spray of buckshot across the void.

“I am the darkest!” hissed one of the demons.

“No, I!”

“No! Behold my darkness!”

If a thousand giant octopuses had squirted ink at the same time, at the bottom of the deepest, most sunless ocean trench, it could not have been blacker. Annabeth might as well have been blind. She gripped Percy’s hand and steeled her nerves.

“Wait!” Nyx called, suddenly panicked. “I can’t see anything.”

“Yes!” shouted one of her children proudly. “I did that!”

“No, I did!”

“Fool, it was me!”

Dozens of voices argued in the darkness.

The horses whinnied in alarm.

“Stop it!” Nyx yelled. “Whose foot is that?”

“Eris is hitting me!” cried someone. “Mother, tell her to stop hitting me!”

“I did not!” yelled Eris. “Ouch!”

The sounds of scuffling got louder. If possible, the darkness became even deeper. Annabeth’s eyes dilated so much, they felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets.

She squeezed Percy’s hand. “Ready?”

“For what?” After a pause, he grunted unhappily. “Poseidon’s underpants, you can’t be serious.”

“Somebody give me light!” Nyx screamed. “Gah! I can’t believe I just said that!”

“It’s a trick!” Eris yelled. “The demigods are escaping!”

“I’ve got them,” screamed an arai.

“No, that’s my neck!” Geras gagged.

“Jump!” Annabeth told Percy.

They leaped into the darkness, aiming for the doorway far, far below.