CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
SILVIANA       DUVALL

Percy had taken Sylvie on some romantic walks before. This wasn't one of them.

They followed the River Phlegethon, stumbling over the glassy black terrain, jumping crevices, and hiding behind rocks whenever the vampire girls slowed in front of them.

It was tricky to stay far enough back to avoid getting spotted but close enough to keep Kelli and her comrades in view through the dark hazy air. The heat from the river baked Sylvie's skin. Every breath was like inhaling sulfur-scented fiberglass. When they needed a drink, the best they could do was sip some refreshing liquid fire.

At least Sylvie's ankle seemed to have healed into a sprain. While she was still limping, her bones weren't broken anymore. Her various cuts and scrapes had faded. She'd taken out the elastic that had barely been holding her hair back in a knotty mess. Thinking of her little brother Cedar, Sylvie re-tied her hair back in a simple knot; there would be no intricate braids for a while, no flowers heavy with meaning.

Percy was more or less the same. His cuts and scrapes had faded too. His messy hair was messier than usual. Not only were his clothes wine-stained (from the wine bath Finn put him through), but they were also tainted by blood and dirt. At this point, Sylvie couldn't tell if it was his or hers. In the fiery light of the river, his sea-green eyes looked more like a mossy color. Despite being beat-up, sooty, and in the depths of hell, Sylvie thought he was beautiful.

Under different circumstances, Sylvie would be beaming up at him with a ridiculous grin. Just for the sole fact that they were together. But she was thirsty, hungry, and scared out of her mind. They were in Tartarus. They stood a slim chance of surviving.

And Percy was singing "Life Is a Highway."

"Perce, for the last time, stop," Sylvie hissed, glaring up at him. He was singing the Rascal Flatts. They were in the middle of Tartarus, and he was singing the Rascal Flatts.

"Sorry," Percy said sheepishly, shifting Riptide from one hand to the other. "It's stuck in my head right now."

"Get it unstuck before the murderous vampire girls turn around and eat us whole," Sylvie whispered. "Life is not a highway."

"Hey, you're the one who put me on the Cars franchise."

"And when we get out from the depths of hell, I'll rewatch the movies with you," she said. "But for right now, be quiet. Please."

Percy shrugged, sighing. "Yes, ma'am."

Time was impossible to judge. They trudged along, following the river as it cut through the harsh landscape. Fortunately, the empousai weren't exactly speed walkers. They shuffled on their mismatched bronze and donkey legs, hissing and fighting with each other, apparently in no hurry to reach the Doors of Death.

Once, the demons sped up in excitement and swarmed something that looked like a beached carcass on the riverbank. Sylvie couldn't tell what it was—a fallen monster? An animal of some kind? The empousai attacked it with relish.

When the demons moved on, Sylvie and Percy reached the spot and found nothing left except a few splintered bones and glistening stains drying in the heat of the river. Sylvie felt sick, and her eyes stung. What if it actually had been an animal? Was it poor and helpless, unable to defend itself down here? She couldn't think of a species of prey that deserved a fate so cruel.

"Come on." Percy led Sylvie gently away from the scene. "We don't want to lose them."

As they walked, Sylvie thought about the last time she'd gotten emotional over an animal's death. They'd been on Polyphemus's Island to retrieve the Golden Fleece. When they'd inspected if the Fleece had any sort of security, a poor deer stumbled into a flock of flesh-eating sheep that consumed it to the bone. At the time, it seemed like a devastating situation. Now, she'd give anything to have a problem that simple. At least she'd been in the mortal world then. Here, she was most likely going to die as if she were the animal prey.

Wow. When she started looking back on the war with Kronos as the good old days—that was sad. She kept hoping things would get better for Percy and her, but their lives just got more and more dangerous, as if the Three Fates were up there spinning their futures with barbed wire instead of thread just to see how much two demigods could tolerate.

After a few more miles, the empousai disappeared over a ridge. When Sylvie and Percy caught up, they found themselves at the edge of another massive cliff. The River Phlegethon spilled over the side in jagged tiers of fiery waterfalls. The demon ladies were picking their way down the cliff, jumping from ledge to ledge like mountain goats.

Sylvie's heart crept into her throat. Even if she and Percy reached the bottom of the cliff alive, they didn't have much to look forward to. The landscape below them was a bleak, ash-gray plain bristling with black trees, like insect hair. The ground was packed with blisters. Every once in a while, a bubble would swell and burst, disgorging a monster like a larva from an egg.

Suddenly Sylvie wasn't hungry anymore.

All the newly formed monsters were crawling and hobbling in the same direction—toward a bank of black fog that swallowed the horizon like a storm front. The Phlegethon flowed in the same direction until about halfway across the plain, where it met another river of black water—maybe the Cocytus? The two floods combined in a steaming, boiling cataract and flowed on as one toward the black fog.

The longer Sylvie looked into that storm of darkness, the less she wanted to go there. It could be hiding anything—an ocean, a bottomless pit, an army of monsters. But if the Doors of Death were in that direction, it was their only chance to get home.

"Wish we could fly," Percy muttered, peering over the edge of the cliff.

"Where's Jason when you need him?" Sylvie sighed. Instantly, she regretted saying that. A sick desire overcame her to be with Jason. To be with all of her friends. To not be in Tartarus. But none of that was possible, anymore.

Percy sent her a sad look, to which Sylvie avoided because she felt so horrible. She wasn't trying to be pessimistic down here, but it was so hard. She rubbed her arms anxiously.

"I'd settle for a hang glider," Percy said, trying to smooth over the bump in their conversation.

"Maybe not a good idea." Sylvie pointed. Above them, dark-winged shapes spiraled in and out of the blood-red clouds.

"Furies?" Percy wondered.

"Or some other kind of demon," Sylvie said. "Tartarus has thousands."

"Including the kind that eats hang gliders," Percy guessed. "Well, at least my girlfriend's got the insane ability to know things now."

She sent him a humorless grin. "Come on, we've gotta climb."

Sylvie couldn't see the empousai below them anymore. They'd disappeared behind one of the ridges, but that didn't matter. It was clear where she and Percy needed to go. Like all the maggot monsters crawling over the plains of Tartarus, they should head toward the dark horizon. Sylvie was just brimming with enthusiasm for that.

╰━━━ ◦ ✸ ◦ ✸ ◦ ━━━╯ 

As they started down the cliff, Sylvie concentrated on the challenges at hand: keeping her footing, avoiding rockslides that would alert the empousai to their presence, and of course making sure she and Percy didn't plummet to their deaths.

The downside was, that if they were descending a normal cliff in the mortal world, Sylvie could grow vines they could either use as harnesses or extra gripping. There wasn't any forestry here. At least, not that Sylvie could detect. It was making her irritable.

Her ankle wasn't helping. Of course, it was healed much more than before, but she had been putting too much pressure on it. She couldn't find her footing because her leg wobbled so badly. The skin around her ankle was bruised and swollen. Sudden, sharp pains often shot through her foot. After all the pressure that climbing down the cliff brought, there was a constant throbbing throughout the sprain.

About halfway down the precipice, Sylvie couldn't take it anymore. "Stop, okay? Just a quick break."

Percy cursed himself. He looked so guilty that he could cry, but Sylvie tried telling him it wasn't his fault he didn't notice. It's not like she wanted to tell him. It was just that the instability of her leg had gotten so unbearable.

They sat together on a ledge next to a roaring fiery waterfall. Percy put his arm around Sylvie, and she leaned against him, shaking from exhaustion.

At least she had Percy. They would find a way out of Tartarus. They had to. She didn't think much of fates and prophecies, but she did believe in one thing: Percy and she were supposed to be together. They hadn't survived so much just to get killed now.

"Man," Percy breathed, "we're really unlucky with cliffs, huh?"

For the first time in a good while, Sylvie let out a laugh—however breathy and feeble it might have been. Her hands grabbed one of his and idly played with his fingers.

"Things could be worse," Sylvie ventured.

"Yeah?" Percy asked, disbelieving.

She snuggled against him. He smelled of smoke, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine they were at the campfire at Camp Half-Blood. She could pretend she heard Florian playing music on his guitar.

"We could've fallen into the River Lethe," she said. "Lost all our memories again."

Sylvie felt Percy shudder. She didn't blame him. Only last month, Hera had erased his memories to put him among the Roman demigods. Only days ago, Mnemosyne had erased Sylvie's memories to torture and kill her. Then Sylvie had pulled an UNO Reverse Card on the Titaness of memory and sapped Mnemosyne of her title, leaving only her divinity behind.

"Yeah, no memories," he muttered. "Not our favorite."

"At least I got a little bit of revenge."

That didn't make either of them feel better. A past version of Sylvie would have never dreamed of getting revenge. Not on anyone.

"What's the name you gave Mnemosyne after she lost her memory? Dory?"

"Nemo," Sylvie said.

Percy managed a weak laugh. "Nemo the Titaness."

Sylvie's lips were so parched, it hurt to smile. She wondered what had happened to Mnemosyne after she trailed away from the glass beach in Tartarus. She wondered if Mnemosyne was still as much of an amnesiac as she left the Titaness, or if Mnemosyne had regained all her knowledge. Maybe she was waiting for an opportunity to defeat Sylvie in round two.

She gazed across the ashen plains. The other Titans were supposed to be here in Tartarus as well—maybe bound in chains, or roaming aimlessly, or hiding in some of those dark crevices. Sylvie and her allies had destroyed the worst Titan, Kronos, but even his remains might be down here somewhere—a billion angry Titan particles floating through the blood-colored clouds or lurking in that dark fog.

Sylvie stopped thinking about that when Percy kissed her forehead.

"We should keep moving," he said. "You want some more fire to drink?"

"Ugh. I'll pass."

A tiny smile found his face at the wrinkling of her nose.

They struggled to their feet. The rest of the cliff looked impossible to descend—nothing more than a crosshatching of tiny ledges—but they kept climbing down.

Sylvie's body went on autopilot. Her fingers cramped. She felt blisters popping up on her ankles. She got shaky from hunger.

She wondered if they would die of starvation, or if the firewater would keep them going. She remembered the punishment of Tantalus, who'd been permanently stuck in a pool of water under a fruit tree but couldn't reach either food or drink.

Sylvie hadn't thought about Tantalus in years. That guy had been paroled briefly to serve as director at Camp Half-Blood. Probably he was back in the Fields of Punishment. Sylvie had never felt sorry for him before, but now she was starting to sympathize. She could imagine what it would be like, getting hungrier and hungrier for eternity but never being able to eat.

Much later, with a dozen new blisters on her feet and her sprained ankle sore beyond compare, Percy reached the bottom. He helped Sylvie down, and they collapsed on the ground.

Ahead of them stretched miles of wasteland, bubbling with monstrous larvae and big insect-hair trees. To their right, the Phlegethon split into branches that etched the plain, widening into a delta of smoke and fire. To the north, along the main route of the river, the ground was riddled with cave entrances. Here and there, spires of rock jutted up like exclamation points.

Under Sylvie's hand, the soil felt alarmingly warm and smooth. She tried to grab a handful, then realized that under a thin layer of dirt and debris, the ground was a single vast membrane. Like skin.

She almost threw up, but forced herself not to. There was nothing in her stomach but fire.

Sylvie stood, wiping soot from her face. She gazed toward the darkness on the horizon. "We're gonna be completely exposed, crossing this plain."

About a hundred yards ahead of them, a blister burst on the ground. A monster clawed its way out, a glistening telkhine with slick fur, a seal-like body, and stunted human limbs. It managed to crawl a few years before something shot out of the nearest cave, so fast that Sylvie could only register a dark green reptilian head. The monster snatched the squealing telkhine in its jaws and dragged it into the darkness.

Reborn in Tartarus for two seconds, only to be eaten. Sylvie wondered if that telkhine would pop up some other place in Tartarus, and how long it would take to reform.

"Oh, yeah," Percy rasped. "This'll be fun."

Sylvie helped him to his feet. There was no going back.

They started walking, trying to avoid the cave entrances, sticking close to the bank of the river. They were just skirting one of the spires when Percy froze.

"The empousai." He grabbed Sylvie's arm. "Where are they?"

Sylvie scanned a three-sixty, her amber eyes bright with alarm.

Maybe the demon ladies had been snapped up by that reptile in the cave. If the empousai were still ahead of them, they should've been visible somewhere on the plains.

Unless they were still hiding...

Too late, Sylvie drew Halcyon.

The empousai emerged from the rocks all around them—five of them forming a ring. A perfect trap.

Kelli limped forward on her mismatched legs. Her fiery hair burned across her shoulders like a miniature Phlegethon waterfall. Her tattered cheerleader outfit was splattered with rusty-brown stains. Blood. She fixed Percy with her glowing red eyes and bared her fangs.

"Percy Jackson," she cooed. "How awesome! I dont even have to return to the mortal world to destroy you!"

Sylvie recalled how dangerous Kelli had been the last time they'd fought in the Labyrinth. Despite those mismatched legs, she could move fast when she wanted to. She'd dodged Percy's sword strikes and would've eaten his face if Sylvie hadn't stabbed her from behind. Now she had four friends with her.

"And your friend Sylvie is with you!" Kelli hissed with laughter. "Oh, yeah, I totally remember her. What's the matter, daughter of Demeter? Lost one of your weapons? Bummer. I'll just have to kill you with the one instead."

Sylvie tried to think. She and Percy stood shoulder to shoulder as they had many times before, ready to fight. But neither of them were in good shape for battle. Sylvie only had one dagger. They were hopelessly outnumbered. There was nowhere to run. No help coming.

That left their Plan Z of tactics (and, ironically, their most common plan): distract, ramble, delay.

"So..." Percy started, "I guess you're wondering what we're doing in Tartarus."

Kelli snickered. "Not really. I just want to kill you."

"Too bad," Sylvie said. "'Cause you've got no idea what's goin' on in the mortal world."

The other empousai circled, watching Kelli for a cue to attack; but the ex-cheerleader only snarled, crouching out of reach of Percy's sword.

"We know enough," Kelli said. "Gaea has spoken."

You're headin' toward a major defeat." Sylvie sounded so confident, she even shocked herself. She glanced at the other empousai, one by one, then pointed accusingly at Kelli. "She's lyin' about leadin' you to victory. Last time she was in the mortal world, she was in charge of keepin' Luke Castellan faithful to Kronos. But Luke gave his life to expel Kronos. The Titans lost because Kelli failed, and now she wants to lead you to another disaster."

The other empousai muttered and shifted uneasily.

"Enough!" Kelli's fingernails grew into long black talons. She glared at Sylvie as if imagining her sliced into small pieces. "The girl lies. So the Titans lost. Fine! That was part of the plan to wake Gaea! Now the Earth Mother and her giants will destroy the mortal world, and we will totally feast on demigods!"

The other vampires gnashed their teeth in a frenzy of excitement. Almost nothing seemed as scary as empousai ready to feed.

Sylvie prepared to attack, but how many could she and Percy dispatch before they were overwhelmed? It wouldn't be enough.

"The demigods've united!" Sylvie yelled, swallowing the sound of her fear. "Romans and Greeks'll fight you together. You don't stand a chance!"

The empousai backed up nervously, hissing, "Romani."

Sylvie guessed they'd had experience with the Twelfth Legion before, and it hadn't worked out well for them.

"Yeah, you bet. Romani." Percy bared his forearm and showed them the brand he'd gotten at Camp Jupiter—the SPQR mark, with the trident of Neptune. "You mix Greek and Roman, and you know what you get? BAM!"

He stomped his foot, and the empousai scrambled back. One fell off the boulder where she'd been perched. Unfortunately, they all recovered quickly and closed in again.

"Bold talk," Kelli said, "for two demigods lost in Tartarus. Lower your sword and dagger, Percy Jackson and Sylvie Duvall. Then I'll kill you both quickly. Believe me, there are worse ways to die down here."

A flash of knowledge hit Sylvie like a brick to the head (Jason reference).

"Wait!" Sylvie tried again. "Aren't empousai the servants of Hecate?"

Kelli curled her lip. "So?"

"So Hecate's on our side now," Sylvie said. "She's gotta cabin at Camp Half-Blood. Some of her demigod kids are my friends. If you fight us, she'll be angry."

Percy looked like he wanted to hug Sylvie for her brilliance. Luckily he was smart enough not to do that at a time like this.

One of the other empousai growled. "Is this true, Kelli? Has our mistress made peace with Olympus?"

"Shut up, Serephone!" Kelli screeched. "Gods, you're annoying!"

"I will not cross the Dark Lady."

Sylvie took the opening. "You'd all be better followin' Serephone. She's older and wiser."

"Yes!" Serephone shrieked. "Follow me!"

Kelli struck so fast, Sylvie didn't have the chance to raise her dagger. Fortunately, she didn't attack Sylvie. Kelli lashed out at Serephone. For half a second, the two demons were a blur of slashing claws and fangs.

Then it was over. Kelli stood triumphant over a pile of dust. From her claws hung the tattered remains of Serephone's dress.

"Any more issues?" Kelli snapped at her sisters. "Hecate is the goddess of the Mist! Her ways are mysterious. Who knows which side she truly favors? She is also the goddess of the crossroads, and she expects us to make our own choices. I choose the path that will bring us the most demigod blood. I choose Gaea!"

Her friends hissed in approval.

Sylvie glanced at Percy. She was out of ideas. She'd done what she could. She'd gotten Kelli to eliminate one of her own. Now there was nothing left but to fight.

"For two years I churned in the void," Kelli said. "Do you know how completely annoying it is to be vaporized, Sylvie Duvall? Slowly re-forming, fully conscious, in searing pain for months and years as your body regrows, then finally breaking the crust of this hellish place and clawing your way back to daylight? All because some little girl stabbed you in the back?"

Sylvie swallowed, licked her lips. "I got stabbed in the back too. That stuff didn't happen to me. Must be a skill issue." 

"I wonder what happens if a demigod is killed in Tartarus. I doubt it's ever happened before. Let's find out."

Percy sprang, slashing Riptide in a huge arc. He cut one of the demons in half, but Kelli dodged and charged Sylvie. The other two empousai launched themselves at Percy.

Sylvie side-stepped and turned, so that when Kelli ended up on the other side of her, she'd be ready to face her. She wasn't used to fighting with one dagger, but it wasn't the first time she'd done so. Once, back on Olympus, Eurydice had taken Halcyon and started fighting Sylvie with it. Now, all Sylvie had was Halcyon. She smacked the hilt of it into Kelli's nose.

Kelli wailed. Sylvie backhanded her with the dagger blade, sliding a gash in Kelli's shoulder that unfortunately wasn't deep enough to vaporize her. And it only made Kelli angrier, which certainly wasn't a pretty sight. She tried to ignore that and stagger toward Percy, determined to go down protecting him if she had to; the two empousai were preventing him from using Riptide.

Sylvie was too distracted to realize that Kelli was lunging. She raked her talons across Sylvie's arm. Sylvie screamed and fell. Halcyon clattered out of her hand.

Kelli's shaggy and cloven-hooved leg crushed down on Sylvie's right arm when she tried reaching for her dagger. She was so weak, so tired that she could only gasp sharply. She could only remember that this was the exact position Eurydice put her in before Eurydice fell to her death. Sylvie had survived this moment once, but she knew she couldn't do it again.

Kelli loomed over Sylvie, savoring her moment of triumph. All Sylvie's hazy gaze could see were the eyes of a hungry, young girl.

Then a shadow fell across Sylvie. An echoing and haunting cry resonated from somewhere above, across the plains of Tartarus, and a Titan dropped onto the battlefield.

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Sylvie thought she was hallucinating. It just wasn't possible that a huge, silvery figure could drop out of the sky and stop Kelli flat, trampling her into a mound of monster dust.

But that's exactly what happened. The Titaness was ten feet tall, with charcoal gray hair, misty silver eyes, and a dense fog that the bottom of her figure seemed to dissolve into. In her hand was a windshield wipe.

Sylvie couldn't control it. She screamed in utter terror. She tried to crawl away, but the giant woman wasn't interested in her. The woman turned to the two remaining empousai, who stood over Percy.

One was foolish enough to attack. She lunged with the speed of a tiger, but she never stood a chance. With one deadly swipe of the woman's windshield wipe, the empousai was cut to dust. The last vampire tried to run. The woman threw her windshield wipe like a massive boomerang. It sliced through the vampire and returned to the woman's hand.

"YES!" The Titaness grinned with delight. "Fiat cars are AWESOME!"

Sylvie was so horrified she couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She could feel Percy's eyes piercing into hers, but she couldn't turn her head to meet them. Sylvie tried swallowing, but her throat was so dry she began choking.

"Y-you're..." she stammered. "You're Mnemo—"

"I am Nemo!" the Titaness said happily.

Percy's eyes shot open, because it was somehow possible for him to get more surprised. Sylvie crawled further backward. Her arm was bleeding badly, but she didn't care. Her anxiety-ridden mind just needed her to get far, far away.

Percy tensed, a darkness hardening on his expression. "Why are you here?"

"Sylvie called me! Yes, she did."

Sylvie choked on a dry sob, shaking her head. "No. No, I didn't. I don't... I'm not..."

The woman frowned when she noticed Sylvie's wounds. "Ouchie."

Sylvie flinched as the Titaness kneeled next to her. Percy jolted towards them, feeling a fierce surge of protection rise.

"I'm just trying to help, Sylvie!" Mnemosyne—or, Nemo—said. "We're friends, remember?"

It was hard to think past the blaring alarm in her mind, but the validity of that memory did register in Sylvie's brain as the truth. 

In fact, that was the only memory Nemo had. If the Titaness was really being genuine, she knew absolutely nothing except for the fact that her name was Nemo, she was a Titan goddess, and Sylvie was her friend.

Before Sylvie could decide whether she believed Nemo's amnesia, the Titaness tapped Sylvie's forearm. It mended instantly. Her sprained ankle healed entirely. Sylvie gasped.

Nemo chuckled, pleased with herself, then bounded over to Percy and healed his bleeding arm and neck.

"All better!" Nemo declared, her eerie misty eyes crinkling with pleasure. "I am Nemo, Sylvie's friend!"

Sylvie looked at Percy, the two of them sharing a panicked and silent conversation. This really was Mnemosyne, the Titan goddess that Sylvie had (hopefully) stripped of all her remembrance powers, including her ability to—well—remember. This was the woman who had tortured Sylvie. This was the reason she and Percy were in Tartarus.

Did Sylvie trust her? She was still figuring out that part for herself.

"Uh... yeah," she managed. "Thanks for the help, Nemo. It's... good to see you again?"

"Yes!" the Titaness agreed. "Nemo. That's me. Nemo, Nemo, Nemo." She shuffled around, obviously pleased with her name. "I am helping. I heard my name."

Percy gave Sylvie another puzzled look, but she still had no explanation.

"I heard my friend call!" Nemo beamed. "Sylvie said, Nemo!"

She grabbed Sylvie's arm and hoisted her to her feet. Sylvie had to admit, if this Titaness actually did have her memories and was acting her ass off, she was doing a perfect job of it. Sylvie had interacted with Mnemosyne before Sylvie created the poison that absorbed her powers. The Titaness was cruel, cold, and attempting to kill Sylvie at all times.

She couldn't be faking it. The desire to kill Sylvie would be too strong for her to.

"Um, that's awesome," Sylvie said. "But how'd you—"

"Oh, time to talk later." Nemo's expression turned serious. "We must go before they find you. They are coming. Yes, indeed."

"They?" Percy asked.

Sylvie scanned the horizon. She saw no approaching monsters—nothing but the stark gray wasteland.

"Yes," Nemo agreed. "But Nemo knows a way. Come on, friends! We will have fun!"

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BAILEY YAPS...

Sooo... YEAH! Canon divergence all around in this fic I know I know

I couldn't bring myself to keep Bob in the plot. I hate him so much. I hate his big fat stupid annoying cheery ass. I am Bobphobic. This hatred stemmed from Via Aquamcnti's Bloodshed and I have hated him ever since. How dare he be big and fat and stupid and annoying and cheery while Theodosia Scott is suffering and sad? Yeah boo. 

Don't get me wrong of course I hate Mnemosyne more than anything. She traumatized our poor girl. But. This is Nemo. Her ass don't remember shit.

Anyways writing Sylvie in this act just has me non-stop thinking about "You used to be the funniest little kid, then you became so serious" ://// :( She lost her silly I am so sad  

Anyways "Thinking of her little brother Cedar, Sylvie tied her hair back in a simple knot; there would be no intricate braids for a while, no flowers heavy with meaning."

Anyways "If she closed her eyes, she could almost imagine they were at the campfire at Camp Half-Blood. She could pretend she heard Florian playing music on his beloved guitar."