𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧

chapter sixteen. ☄︎. *. ⋆

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WE WERE ABOUT HALFWAY to Hades's dwelling when Grover's magical shoes tried to pull him to his death.

     "No turning back now," I had said, stupidly, before Grover gave a small yelp from behind me and I did, in fact, turn back around. His shoes had sprouted their wings without being commanded to, his legs shooting forward. He landed flat on his back, letting out a huff of pain.

     "Come on, Grover," Annabeth said, reaching out to help him up. "Stop messing around."

     "But I didn't—" Grover yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy. They levitated him off the ground and started dragging him away from us.

     "Grover!" I called, the three of us beginning to jog after him, but the shoes were gaining speed. Annabeth, Percy and I were sprinting to keep up. "Untie them!"

     I thought it was a good idea, but I guess it could've been hard to execute when your shoes are pulling you along feet-first at full speed. He kept trying to sit up and untie them but couldn't even reach the laces.

     The slope we were chasing Grover down seemed to be getting steeper and steeper by the step. I almost lost my footing and fell, but Annabeth stabilized me. The tunnel was getting darker and colder. I could sense evil in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.

     I glanced past Grover, at where his shoes were taking him: they were headed straight for a steep drop-off—a cliff in the Underworld that was surrounded by evil energies and feeds off the fear of demigods? I realized a split second after Percy did that we were racing towards the opening of Tartarus.

     He stopped dead in his tracks. I yelled for him to come on, that Grover was about to fall in, and that seemed to get his attention. Percy, Annabeth and I reached Grover at the last second; his left hoof knocked the shoe off after hitting a stray boulder, and it went flying into the pit of Tartarus. The right shoe was still trying to pull Grover down, but not as quickly and it didn't have nearly as much power. He was ten feet from the edge of the slope when we caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off and circled around us angrily. It kicked us all once in the heads before diving into the chasm to join its twin.

     Percy, Annabeth, and Grover all collapsed in exhaustion. I stayed standing, my bow hanging limply at my side, while I gazed around and peered into the darkness. A shiver ran up my back. A visual came to me—an image of us sitting at the edge of Tartarus, catching our breath just as we were then, when the pit opened up and swallowed us into it.

     "We need to go." I tugged Percy's shoulder, dragging him urgently to a standing position. Annabeth and Grover followed at the insistence of my voice. "C'mon, we have to go! Run!"

     We almost didn't make it. A cold blast of wind pulled at our backs just as we reached the top. Percy almost lost his balance, but I took his hand and heaved him up the slope with me. If we had been any closer, Tartarus would have sucked us down into it.

     In silence, we trudged back to our path towards Hades's palace. I think we were all too shaken to speak. Grover looked like he had just seen a ghost—but then I remembered we were in the Underworld, and I thought that maybe I could use a different metaphor. Anyway, Grover looked scared out of his little goat hooves. I didn't blame him. I reached out a hand as we walked and patted him on the shoulder; he gave me a grateful smile.

     We passed all sorts of things on our way: Persephone's garden, in which a beautiful and tempting pomegranate tree resided, seemingly beckoning us inside and offering its fruit to us. It was so tempting, I almost reached inside and picked one for myself, but then I remembered the story of Persephone; one bite of Underworld food, and we would never be able to leave.

     Finally, after what seemed like ages, we were walking up the steps of the palace. Black columns surrounded us. A black marble portico welcomed us inside, and I risked a glance at Annabeth; she was trying to hide it, but I knew her well enough to see her glee at such intricate and beautiful architecture. She caught my eye, and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. I rolled my eyes. Even when we were literally about to face our deaths, Annabeth was admiring the architecture. Classic.

     Guarding every door we passed was some sort of skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some wore British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. The all carried a weapon of some sort; a musket, a spear, a sword. None of them bothered us, but I could feel their empty eye sockets following us down the corridor.

"Do we.. knock?" Percy asked, when we arrived at the large door at the end of the hallway.

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors blew open. The guards stepped to the side.

"I'll take that as a 'come in'," I said, then stepped over the threshold.

The first thing I noticed was the throne on which Hades resided—it was crafted of some black stone, maybe onyx, and was decorated with skulls aplenty. I thought to myself, Huh, where did he get all the skulls? And then I realized, duh. He's the god of death.

And then I took notice of who was sitting on the throne.

Now, Hades wasn't the first god I had ever met; this wasn't even my first time meeting him ever, but this was my first time seeing Hades in his full godly form. It was... well, the only word I can think fitting is scary.

"You are brave to come here, young demigods," he said. His voice was gross—oily, almost, like he was conning you with his every word. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps very foolish."

"Lord and Uncle," said Percy, moving forward and kneeling, "I come here with two requests."

Hades's eyes seemed to burn, like he was enraged Percy had even considered requesting something from him, but he only raised an eyebrow and said, "Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

"Look, sir," Percy said, "there can't be a war among the gods. It would be.. really bad."

Eloquent, I thought, but kept my mouth shut.

"Please return Zeus's bolt to me," he said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes burned even brighter, which I couldn't imagine was a good sign. "You dare to keep up this pretense, even after what you have done?"

"Um, Lord Hades," Percy said, glancing over his shoulder at us. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"

As Hades bellowed his berating upon Percy, my ADHD couldn't help but focus my attention on Percy's backpack. I could swear it was blinking, almost glowing. A part of me wanted to reach out and see what the cause of the light was, but I thought it might've been a bad time. Still, I was almost completely entranced..

     I came back when Annabeth spoke. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?"

     Something told me that wasn't good.

     "Do not play innocent with me, girl. You two demigods and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"

     Percy shook his head quickly. "N—no! Poseidon didn't—I didn't—"

     "Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare."

     Now, I'm not the brightest (Apollo pun unintended), but even I knew what Percy said next wasn't the smartest move when we were already in Hades's territory and offending him wildly.

     "You're as bad as Zeus!" he said. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after us!"

     "Of course," Hades replied calmly, as if he was already picturing watching his skeleton army pull us apart limb-by-limb.

     "I didn't steal shit from you," Percy said. I choked, but Percy went straight on, like he hadn't just cursed at a god. "I don't have your helm. I came here for the bolt."

     "Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. "You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could threaten me!"

     I felt a pit the size of Tartarus in my stomach. The glow from Percy's backpack... It couldn't be the bolt. No way would it have been in Percy's pack the whole time, and we wouldn't have noticed.

     My doubts were proved wrong the moment Percy unzipped his backpack. Inside was a two foot long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.

     "Percy," Grover whispered, his jaw hanging open. "How?"

     "I—I don't know. I don't understand." Percy looked up to Hades, shaking his head like he had just had a bad dream. "No, Lord Hades, there's been a mistake. It's all a mistake."

     "A mistake?" Hades roared. His skeleton army all readied their weapons, clearly eager to add our souls to the Fields of Asphodel. Hades stood from his throne. "There has been no mistake. I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her."

     He waved his hand, and a small gold ball exploded at his feet. An image of a frozen woman hovered where the ball had landed; an image of a woman about to be crushed to death by the Minotaur's hand. I took a shot in the dark and assumed it was Percy's mother.

     Percy reached out to touch her, but I could feel the heat of the light even from a few feet behind him. He recoiled.

     "Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

     I could almost see Percy's mind racing. He was trying to think of a way to get us out of there, like the hero he is. I thought back to when we had plummeted into the Mississippi River together; he had received four pearls that could safely travel us out of the Underworld. I could tell he was thinking of using them, but Hades could actually read his mind.

     "Ah, yes," he said, "the pearls. Yes, my brother and his tricks. Bring them forward, Percy Jackson."

     I watched as he pulled from his pocket the four small orbs that guaranteed us an escape and offered them up to Hades.

     "Only four," he said pitifully. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

     Percy turned back to face us, his face sullen, and told us, "We were tricked. Set up."

     "Leave me," I said immediately. I never thought I'd be sacrificing myself for Percy Jackson, but I knew he would easily choose Annabeth and Grover over me, any day. This just happened to literally be life-or-death. A small part of me knew Percy was about to tell me that he was going to use the pearls on Annabeth and Grover, his mom, and himself, and leave me, so I decided to offer myself up before he could.

     But Percy's eyes were wide and he looked like I had just broken his heart. He shook his head earnestly. "No. No, I'm not leaving you." He looked at Annabeth and Grover. "I'm not leaving any of you. I can't—" His voice broke. He looked over his shoulder at his mother's frozen form, thinking hard, then turned back to us. He held out the pearls. "Take these."

     Annabeth shook her head and said, "But, Percy—"

Percy ignored her. He turned back to his mother and said, "I'm sorry. I'll find a way. I'll be back."

Hades wasn't nearly as smug as he had been before. "Godling..."

"I'll find your helm," Percy said. "I'll return it. Also, Charon wants a pay raise."

"Percy Jackson, you will not—"

"Now, guys!" We smashed the pearls at our feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened—then, just as the skeletons prepared to open fire on us, the pearl fragments at our feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. I was encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.

"Yo, cool," I murmured to myself, my voice echoing inside the bubble. Spears and bullets were ricocheting off it easily, and I couldn't help the relieved laugh that escaped my lips.

I guessed I could check 'riding out of Hell in a pink translucent bubble while being shot at by dead militia' off my bucket list.