AND THE DOORS CLOSED

"the doors opened and she saw what it was all for"

ARIADNE WASN'T DEAD YET, BUT SHE WAS ALREADY TIRED OF BEING A CORPSE.

As they trudged towards the heart of Tartarus, she kept glancing down at her body, wondering how it could belong to her. Her arms looked like bleached leather pulled over sticks. Her skeletal legs seemed to dissolve into smoke with every step. She'd learned to move normally within the Death Mist, more or less, but the magical shroud made her feel like she was wrapped in a coat of helium.

She worried that the Death Mist might cling to her forever, even if they managed to survive Tartarus. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life looking like an extra from The Walking Dead. Imagining her wedding with Percy as a ghostly bride was straight from a horror movie.

Ariadne tried to focus on something else, but there was no safe direction to look.

Under her feet, the ground glistened a nauseating purple—the sickly version of her eyes—pulsing with webs of veins. I'm the dim red light of the blood clouds, Death Mist Annabeth looked like a freshly risen zombie.

Ahead of them was the most depressing view of all.

Spread to the horizon was an army of monsters—flocked of winged arai, tribes of lumbering Cyclopses, clusters of floating evil spirits. Thousands of baddies, maybe tens of thousands, all milling relentlessly, pressing against one another, growling and fighting for space—like the locker area of an overcrowded school between classes, if all the students were 'roid-raging mutants who smelled really bad.

Bob led them towards the edge of the army. He made no effort to hide, but that it would have done any good. Being ten feet tall and glowing silver, Bob didn't do stealth very well.

About thirty yards from the nearest monsters, Bob faced Ariadne.

"Stay quiet and stay behind me," he advised. "They will not notice you."

"We hope," Ariadne muttered.

On the Titan's shoulder, Small Bob woke up from a nap. He purred seismically and arched his back, turning skeletal then back to calico. At least he didn't seem nervous."

Annabeth examined her own zombie hands. "Bob if we're invisible...how can you see us? I mean, you're technically, you know..."

"Yes," Bob said. "But we are friends."

"Nyx and her children could see us," Annabeth said.

Bob shrugged. "That was in Nyx's realm. That is different."

"Uh...right." Annabeth didn't sound reassured, but they were here now. They didn't have any choice but to try.

Ariadne stared at the warm of vicious monsters. "We'll, at least we won't have to worry about bumping into any other friends in this crowd."

Bob grinned. "Yes, that is good news! Now, let's go. Death is close."

"The Doors of Death are close," Annabeth corrected. "Let's watch the phrasing."

They plunged into the crowd. Ariadne trembled so badly she was afraid the Death Mist would shake right off him. She'd seen large groups of monsters before. She fought an army of them during the Battle of Manhattan. But this was different.

Whenever she'd fought monsters in the mortal world, Ariadne at least knew she was defending her home. That gave him courage, no matter how bad the odds were. Here, Ariadne was the invader. She didn't belong in this multitude of monsters any more than the Minotaur belonged in Penn Station at rush hour.

A few feet away, a group of empousai tote into the carcass of a gryphon while other gryphons flew around them, squawking in outrage. A six-armed Earthborn and a Laistrygonian giant pummeled rack other with rocked though Ariadne wasn't sure if they were fighting or just messing around. A dark wisp of smoke—Ariadne guessed it but be an eidolon—seeped into a Cyclops, made the monster hit itself in the face, then drifted off to possess another victim.

Annabeth whispered, "Ari, look."

A stone's throw away, a guy in a cowboy outfit was cracking a whip at some fire-breathing horses. The wrangler wore a Stetson hat on his greasy hair, an extra-large set of jeans and a pair of black leather boots. From the side, he might have passed for human—until he turned, and Ariadne saw that his upper body was split into three different chests, each one dressed in a different color Western shirt.

It was definitely Geryon, who had tried to kill Percy and Ariadne two years ago in Texas. Apparently the evil rancher was anxious to break in a new herd: the idea of that guy riding out of the Doors of Death made Ariadne's side hurt all over again. Her ribs throbbed where the arai had unleashed Geryon's dying curse back in the forest. She wanted to match up to the three-bodied rancher, smack him in the face and yell, Thanks a lot, Tex!

Sadly, she couldn't.

How many other old enemies were in this crowd? Ariadne began to realize that ever battle she'd ever won had only been a temporary victory. No matter how strong or lucky she was, no matter how many monsters she destroyed, Ariadne would eventually fail. She was only mortal. She would get too old, too weak, or too slow. She would die. And these monsters...they lasted forever. They just kept coming back. Maybe it would take them months or years to reform, maybe even centuries. But they would be reborn.

Seeing them assembled in Tartarus, Ariadne felt as hopeless as the spirits in the River Cocytus. So what if she was a hero? So what if she did something brave? Evil was always here, regenerating, bubbling under the surface. Ariadne was no more than a minor annoyance to these immortal beings. They just had to outwait her. Someday, Ariadne's sons or daughters might have to face them all over again.

Sons and daughters.

The thought jarred her. As quickly as hopelessness had overtake her, it disappeared. She thought of Percy. She pictured his sea-green eyes, those dimples in his smile, as handsome as ever.

Okay, maybe monsters kept coming back forever. But so did demigods. Generation after generation, Camp Half-Blood had endured. And Camp Jupiter. Even separately, the two camps had survived. Now, if the Greeks and Romans could come together, they would be even stronger.

There was still hope. She and Annabeth had come this far. The Doors of Death were almost within reach.

Sons and daughters. A ridiculous thought. An awesome thought. Raven-haired kids running through a beach house, laughing while their purple and green eyes scoped out their home. Laughing parents in the kitchen, dancing to the beach waves that were nothing but rhythm and time. Right there in the middle of Tartarus, Ariadne grinned.

"What's wrong?" Annabeth whispered.

With her zombie Death Mist disguise, Ariadne probably looked like she was grimacing in pain.

"Nothing," she said. "I was just—"

Somewhere in front of them, a deep voice bellowed: "IAPETUS!"

A Titan strode towards them, casually kicking lesser monsters out of his way. He was roughly the same height as Bob, with elaborate Stygian iron armpit, a single diamond blazing in the center of his breastplate. His eyes were blue-white, like core samples from a glacier and just as cold. His hair was the same color, cut military style. A battle helmet shaped like a bear's head was tucked under his arm. From his belt hung a sword the size of surfboard.

Despite his battle scars, the Titan's face was handsome and strangely familiar. Ariadne was pretty sure she'd never seen the guy before, but his eyes and his smile reminded Percy of someone...

The Titan stopped in front of Bob. He clapped him on the shoulder. "Iapetus! Don't tell me you don't recognize your own brother!"

"No!" Bob agreed nervously. "I won't tell you that."

The other Titan threw back his head and laughed. "I heard you were thrown into the Lethe. Must've been terrible! We all knew you would heal eventually. It's Koios! Koios !"

"Of course," Bob said. "Koios, Titan of..."

"The North!" Koios said.

"I know!" Bob shouted.

They laughed together and took turns hitting each other in the arm.

Apparently miffed by all the jostling, Small Bob crawled onto Bob's head and began making a nest in the Titan's silver hair.

"Poor old Iapetus," said Koios. "They must have laid you low indeed. Look at you! A broom? A servant's uniform? A cat in your hair. Truly, Hades must pay for these insults. Who was that demigods who took your memory? Bah! We must rip him to pieces, you and I, eh?"

"Ha-ha." Bob swallowed. "Yes, indeed. Rip him to pieces."

Ariadne's fingers closed around her ring. She didn't think much of Bob's brother, even without the rip him to pieces threat. Compared to Bob's simple way of speaking, Koios sounded like he was reciting Shakespeare. She despised Shakespeare.

"Ah, it's good to see you..." Koios drummed his fingers on his bear's head-helmet. "You remember what fun we had in the old days?"

"Of course!" Bob chirped. "When we, uh..."

"Holding down our father Ouranos," Koios said.

"Yes! We loved wrestling with Dad..."

"We restrained him."

"That's what I meant!"

"While Kronos cut him to pieces with his scythe."

"Yes, ha-ha." Bob looked mildly I'll. "What fun."

"You grabbed Father's right foot, as I recall," Koios said. "And Ouranos kicked you in the face as he struggled. We used to tease you about that!"

"Silly me," Bob agreed.

"Sadly, our brother Kronos was dissolved by those impudent demigods." Koios heaved a sigh. "Bugs and pieces of his essence remain, but nothing you could put together again. I suppose some injuries even Tartarus cannot heal."

"Alas!"

"But the rest of us have another chance to shine, eh?" He leaned forward conspiratorially. "These giants may think they will tule. Let them be our shock troops and destroy Olympus—all well and good. But once the Earth Mother is awake she will remember that we are her eldest children. Mark my words. The Titans will get tule the cosmos."

"Hmm," Bob said said. "The giants may not like that."

"Spit on what they like," Koios said. "They've already passed through the Doors of Death, anyway, back to the mortal world. Polybotes was the last one, not half an hours ago, still grumbling about missing his prey. Apparently some demigods he was after got swallowed by Nyx. Never see them again, I wager!"

Annabeth gripped Ariadne's wrist. Through the Death Mist, she couldn't read her expression very well, but she saw alarm in her eyes.

If the giants had already passed through the Doors, then at least they wouldn't be hunting through Tartarus for Ariadne and Annabeth. Unfortunately, that also meant their friends in the mortal world were in even greater danger. All of the earlier fights with the giants had been in vain. Their enemies would be reborn as strong as ever.

"Well!" Koios drew his massive sword. The blade radiated a cold deeper than Khione. "I must be off. Leto should have regenerated by now. I will convince her to fight."

"Of course," Bob murmured. "Leto."

Koios laughed. "You've forgotten my daughter, as well? I suppose it's been too long since you've seen her. The peaceful ones like her always take the longest to reform. This time, thought, I'm sure Leto will fight for vengeance. The way Zeus treated her, after she bore him those fine twins? Outrageous!"

Ariadne almost grunted out loud.

The twins.

She remembered the name Leto: the mother of Apollo and Artemis. This guy Koios looked vaguely familiar because he had Artemis's cold eyes and Apollo's smile. The Titan was their grandfather, Leto's father. The idea gave Ariadne a migraine.

"We'll! I'll see you in the mortal world!" Koios chest-bumped Bob, almost knocking the cat off his head. "Oh, and our two other brothers are guarding this side of the Doors, so you'll see them soon enough!"

"I will?"

"Count on it!" Koios lumbered off, almost knocking over Ariadne and Annabeth as they scrambled out of his way.

Before the crowd of monsters could fill the empty space, Ariadne motioned for Bob to lean in.

"You okay, big guy?" Ariadne whispered.

Bob frowned. "I do not know. In all this—" he gestured around them—"what is the meaning of okay?"

Annabeth peered towards the Doors of Death, though the crowd of monsters blocked them from view. "Did I hear correctly two more Titans guarding our exit? That's not good."

Ariadne looked at Bob. The Titan's distant expression worried her.

"Do you remember Koios?" he asked gently. "All that stuff he was talking about?"

Bob gripped his room. "When he told it, I remembered. He handed me my past like...like a spear. But I do not know if I should take it. Is it still mine, if I do not want it?"

"No," Annabeth said firmly. "Bob, you're different now. You're better."

The kitten jumped off Bob's head. He circled the Titan's feet, bumping his head against the Titan's trouser cuffs. Bob didn't seem to notice.

Who were they to choose what Bob wanted? That was how he got confused in the first place.

"I think you can choose, Bob," Ariadne ventured. "Take parts of Iapetus's past that you want to keep. Leave the rest. Your future is what matters."

"Future..." Bob mused. "That is mortal concept. I am not meant to change, Ariadne Friend." He gazed around him at the horde of monsters. "We are the same...forever."

"If you were the same," Ariadne said, "Annabeth and I would be dead already. Maybe we weren't meant to be friends, but we are. You've been the best friend we could ask for."

Bob's silver eyes looked darker than usual. He held out his hand, and Small Bob the kitten jumped into it. The Titan rose to his full height. "Let us go, then, friends. Not much further."

Stomping on Tartarus's heart wasn't nearly as much fun as it sounded.

The purplish ground was slippery and constantly pulsing. It looked flat from a distance, but up close it was made of folds and ridges that got harder to navigate the further they walked. Gnarled lumps of red arteries and blue veins have Ariadne some footholds when she had to climb, but the going was slow.

And, of course, the monsters were everywhere. Packs of hellhounds prowled the plains, baying and snarling and attacking any monster that dropped its guard. Arai wheeled overhead on leathery wings, making ghastly dark silhouettes in the poison clouds.

Ariadne stumbled. Her hand touched a red artery, and a tingling sensation went up her arm. "It's definitely alive," she said. "I can feel it's mind spinning—confused and angry."

Bob grunted. "Water, too. One of the five rivers. His blood."

"His blood?" Annabeth stepped away from the nearest clump of veins. "I knew the Underworld rivers all empties into Tartarus, but—"

"Yes," Bob agreed. "They all flow through his heart."

Ariadne traced her hand across a web of capillaries. If one of those veins popped when she stepped on it...Ariadne shuddered. She realized she was taking a stroll across the most dangerous circulatory system in the universe.

"We should hurry," Annabeth said. "If we can't..."

Her voice trailed off.

Ahead of them, jagged streaks of darkness tore through the air—like lightning, except pure black.

"The Doors," Bob said. "Must be a large group going through."

Ariadne's mouth tasted like gorgon's blood. Even if her friends from the Argo II managed to find the other side of the Doors of Death, how could they possibly fight the waves of monsters that were coming through, especially if all the giants were already waiting for them?

"Do all the monsters go through the House of Hades?" she asked. "How big is that place?"

Bob shrugged. "Perhaps they are sent elsewhere when they step through. The House of Hades is in the earth, yes? That is Gaia's realms. She could send her minions wherever she wishes."

Ariadne's spirits sank. Monsters coming through the Doors of DeTh to threaten her friends at Epirus—that was bad enough. Now she imagined the ground on the mortal side as one big subway system, depositing giants and other nasties anywhere Gaia wanted them to go—Camp Half-Blood, Camp Jupiter of in the path of the Argo II before it could even reach Epirus.

"If Gaia has that much power," Annabeth asked, "couldn't she control where we end up?"

Ariadne really hated that question. Sometimes he wished Annabeth weren't so smart.

Bob scratched his chin. "You are not monsters. It may be different for you."

She didn't relish the idea of Gaia waiting for them on the other side, ready to teleport them into the middle of a mountain, but at least the Doors were a chance to get out of Tartarus. It wasn't like they had a better option.

Bob helped them over the top of another ridge. Suddenly the Doors of Death were in plain view – a freestanding rectangle of darkness at the top of the next heart-muscle hill, about a quarter mile away, surrounding by a horde of monsters so thick Ariadne could've walked on their heads all the way across.

The Doors were still too far away to make out much detail, but the Titans flanking either side were familiar enough. The one on the left wore shining golden armor that shimmered with heat.

"Hyperion," Ariadne muttered. "That guy just won't stay dead."

The last she saw of him, Grover had turned him into a tree.

The one on the right wore dark-blue armour, with ram horns curling from the sides of his helmet. Ariadne had only seen him in dreams before, but it was definitely Krios, the Titan that Jason had killed in the battle for Mount Tam.

"Bob's other brothers," Annabeth said. The Death Mist shimmered around her, temporarily turning her face into a grinning skull. "Bob, if you have to fight them, can you?"

Bob hefted his broom, like he was ready for a messy cleaning job. "We must hurry," he said, which Percy noticed wasn't really an answer. "Follow me."

So far, their Death Mist camouflage plan seemed to be working. So, naturally, Ariadne expected a massive last-minute fail.

Fifty feet from the Doors of Death, she and Annabeth froze.

"Oh, gods," Annabeth murmured. "They're the same."

Ariadne knew what she meant. Framed in Stygian iron, the magical portal was a set of elevator doors–two panels of silver and black etched with art deco designs. Except for the fact that the colors were inverted, they looked exactly like the elevators in the Empire State Building, the entrance to Olympus.

Seeing them, Ariadne felt so homesick he couldn't breathe. She didn't just miss Mount Olympus. She missed everything he'd left behind: New York City, Camp Half-Blood, Sally and Paul and Pollux. Her eyes stung. She didn't trust himself to talk.

The Doors of Death seemed like a personal insult, designed to remind her of everything he couldn't have.

As she got over his initial shock, she noticed other details: the frost spreading from the base of the Doors, the purplish glow in the air around them and the chains that held them fast.

Cords of black iron ran down either side of the frame, like rigging lines on a suspension bridge. They were tethered to hooks embedded in the fleshy ground. The two Titans, Krios and Hyperion, stood guard at the anchor points.

As Ariadne watched, the entire frame shuddered. Black lightning flashed into the sky. The chains shook, and the Titans planted their feet on the hooks to keep them secure. The Doors slid open, revealing the gilded interior of an elevator car.

She tensed, ready to charge forward, but Bob planted a hand on her shoulder. "Wait," he cautioned.

Hyperion yelled to the surrounding crowd: "Group A-22! Hurry up, you sluggards!"

A dozen Cyclopes rushed forward, waving little red tickets and shouting excitedly. They shouldn't have been able to fit inside those human-sized doors, but as the Cyclopes got close their bodies distorted and shrank, the Doors of Death sucking them inside.

The Titan Krios jabbed his thumb against the UP button on the elevator's right side. The Doors slid closed.

The frame shuddered again. Dark lightning faded.

"You must understand how it works," Bob muttered. He addressed the kitten in his palm, maybe so the other monsters wouldn't wonder who he was talking to. "Each time the Doors open, they try to teleport to a new location. Thanatos made them this way, so only he could find them. But now they are chained. The Doors cannot relocate."

"Then we cut the chains," Annabeth whispered.

Ariadne looked at the blazing form of Hyperion. The last time she'd fought the Titan, it had taken every ounce of her strength. Even then Percy and her had almost died. Now there were two Titans, with several thousand monsters for backup.

"Our camouflage," she said. "Will it disappear if we do something aggressive, like cutting the chains?"

"I do not know," Bob told his kitten.

"Mrow," said Small Bob.

"Bob, you'll have to distract them," Annabeth said. 'Ari and I will sneak around the two Titans and cut the chains from behind."

"Yes, fine," Bob said. "But that is only one problem. Once you are inside the Doors, someone must stay outside to push the button and defend it."

Ariadne tried to swallow. "Uh ... defend the button?"

Bob nodded, scratching his kitten under the chin. "Someone must keep pressing the UP button for twelve minutes, or the journey will not finish."

Ariadne glanced at the Doors. Sure enough, Krios still had his thumb jammed on the UP button. Twelve minutes ... Somehow, they would have to get the Titans away from those doors. Then Bob, Ariadne or Annabeth would have to keep that button pushed for twelve long minutes, in the middle of an army of monsters in the heart of Tartarus, while the other two rode to the mortal world. It was impossible.

"Why twelve minutes?" Percy asked.

"I do not know," Bob said. "Why twelve Olympians or twelve Titans?"

"Fair enough," Ariadne said, though she had a bitter taste in his mouth.
"What do you mean the journey won't finish?" Annabeth asked. "What happens to the passengers?"

Bob didn't answer. Judging from his pained expression, Ariadne decided she didn't want to be in that elevator if the car stalled between Tartarus and the mortal world.

"If we do push the button for twelve minutes," Ariadne said, "and the chains are cut –"

"The Doors should reset," Bob said. "That is what they are supposed to do. They will disappear from Tartarus. They will appear somewhere else, where Gaia cannot use them."

"Thanatos can reclaim them," Annabeth said. "Death goes back to normal, and the monsters lose their shortcut to the mortal world."

Ariadne exhaled. "Easy-peasy. Except for ... well, everything."

Small Bob purred.

"I will push the button," Bob volunteered.

A mix of feelings churned in Ariadne's gut – grief, sadness, gratitude and guilt thickening into emotional cement. "Bob, we can't ask you to do that. You want to go through the Doors, too. You want to see the sky again and the stars and –"

"I would like that," Bob agreed. "But someone must push the button. And once the chains are cut ... my brethren will fight to stop your passage. They will not want the Doors to disappear."

Ariadne gazed at the endless horde of monsters. Even if she let Bob make this sacrifice, how could one Titan defend himself against so many for twelve minutes, all the while keeping his finger on a button?

The cement settled in Ariadne's stomach. She had always suspected how this would end. She would have to stay behind. While Bob fended off the army, Ariadne would hold the elevator button and make sure Annabeth got to safety. And make her tell Percy she was sorry, that she loved him.

Somehow, she had to convince her to go without her. As long as she was safe and the Doors disappeared, she could die knowing she'd done something right.

"Ariadne...? Annabeth stared at her, a suspicious edge to her voice.

She was too smart. If he met her eyes, she would see exactly what he was thinking.

"First things first," Ariadne said. "Let's cut those chains."

"Iapetus!" Hyperion bellowed. "Well, well. I thought you were hiding under a cleaning bucket somewhere."

Bob lumbered forward, scowling. "I was not hiding."

Ariadne crept towards the right side of the Doors. Annabeth sneaked towards the left. The Titans gave no sign of noticing them, but Ariadne took no chances. She kept Riptide in pen form. She crouched low, stepping as quietly as possible. The lesser monsters kept a respectful distance from the Titans, so there was enough empty space to maneuver around the Doors, but Ariadne was keenly aware of the snarling mob at her back.

Annabeth had decided to take the side Hyperion was guarding, on the theory that Hyperion was more likely to sense Ariadne. After all, Ariadne was the last one to have messed with his mind in the mortal world. That was fine with Ariadne. After being in Tartarus for so long, she could barely look at Hyperion's burning golden armor without getting spots in her eyes.

On Ariadne's side of the Doors, Krios stood dark and silent, his ram-horned helmet covering his face. He kept one foot planted on the chain's anchor and his thumb on the UP button.

Bob faced his brethren. He planted his spear and tried to look as fierce as possible with a kitten on his shoulder. "Hyperion and Krios. I remember you both."

"Do you, Iapetus?" The golden Titan laughed, glancing at Krios to share the joke. "Well, that's good to know! I heard Percy Jackson turned you into a brainwashed scullery maid. What did he rename you ... Betty?"

"Bob," snarled Bob.

"Well, it's about time you showed up, Bob. Krios and I have been stuck here for weeks –"

"Hours," Krios corrected, his voice a deep rumble inside his helmet.

"Whatever!" Hyperion said. "It's boring work, guarding these doors, shuffling monsters through at Gaia's orders. Krios, what's our next group, anyway?"

"Double Red," said Krios.

Hyperion sighed. The flames glowed hotter across his shoulders. 'Double Red. Why do we go from A-22 to Double Red? What kind of system is that?" He glared at Bob. "This is no job for me – the Lord of Light! Titan of the East! Master of Dawn! Why am I forced to wait in the darkness while the giants go into battle and get all the glory? Now, Krios I can understand –"

"I get all the worst assignments," Krios muttered, his thumb still on the button.

"But me?" Hyperion said. "Ridiculous! This should be your job, Iapetus. Here, take my place for a while."

Bob stared at the Doors, but his gaze was distant – lost in the past. "The four of us held down our father, Ouranos," he remembered. "Koios and me and the two of you. Kronos promised us mastery of the four corners of the earth for helping with the murder."

"Indeed," Hyperion said. "And I was happy to do it! I would've wielded the scythe myself if I'd had the chance! But you, Bob ... you were always conflicted about that killing, weren't you? The soft Titan of the West, soft as the sunset! Why our parents named you the Piercer, I will never know. More like the Whimper."

Ariadne reached the anchor hook. She twisted her ring and her sword grew to full length. Krios didn't react. His attention was firmly fixed on Bob, who had just levelled the point of his spear at Hyperion's chest.

"I can still pierce," Bob said, his voice low and even. "You brag too much, Hyperion. You are bright and fiery, but Percy Jackson defeated you anyway. I hear you became a nice tree in Central Park."

Hyperion's eyes smoldered. "Careful, brother."

"At least a janitor's work is honest," Bob said. "I clean up after others. I leave the palace better than I found it. But you ... you do not care what messes you make. You followed Kronos blindly. Now you take orders from Gaia."

"She is our mother!" Hyperion bellowed.

"She did not wake for our war on Olympus," Bob recalled. "She favors her second brood, the giants."

Krios grunted. :That's true enough. The children of the pit."

"Both of you hold your tongues!" Hyperion's voice was tinged with fear. "You never know when he is listening."

The elevator dinged. All three Titans jumped.

Had it been twelve minutes? Ariadne had lost track of time. Krios took his finger off the button and called out, "Double Red! Where is Double Red?"

Hordes of monsters stirred and jostled one another, but none of them came forward.

Krios heaved a sigh. "I told them to hang on to their tickets. Double Red! You'll lose your place in the queue!"

Annabeth was in position, right behind Hyperion. She raised her drakon-bone sword over the base of the chains. In the fiery light of the Titan's armour, her Death Mist disguise made her look like a burning ghoul.

She held up three fingers, ready to count down. They had to cut the chains before the next group tried to take the elevator, but they also had to make sure the Titans were as distracted as possible.

Hyperion muttered a curse. "Just wonderful. This will completely mess up our schedule." He sneered at Bob. "Make your choice, brother. Fight us or help us. I don't have time for your lectures."

Bob glanced at Annabeth and Ariadne. Ariadne thought he might start a fight, but instead he raised the point of his spear. "Very well. I will take guard duty. Which of you wants a break first?"

"Me, of course," Hyperion said.

"Me!" Krios snapped. "I've been holding that button so long my thumb is going to fall off."

"I've been standing here longer," Hyperion grumbled. "You two guard the Doors while I go up to the mortal world. I have some Greek heroes to wreak vengeance upon!"

"Oh, no!" Krios complained. "That Roman boy is on his way to Epirus – the one who killed me on Mount Othrys. Got lucky, he did. Now it's my turn."

"Bah!" Hyperion drew his sword. "I'll gut you first, Ram-head!"

Krios raised his own blade. "You can try, but I won't be stuck in this stinking pit any longer!"

Annabeth caught Ariadne's eyes. She mouthed: One, two –

Before she could strike the chains, a high-pitched whine pierced her ears, like the sound of an incoming rocket. Then an explosion rocked the hillside. A wave of heat knocked Ariadne backwards. Dark shrapnel ripped through Krios and Hyperion, shredding them as easily as wood in a chipper.

STINKING PIT. A hollow voice rolled across the plains, shaking the warm fleshy ground.

Bob staggered to his feet. Somehow the explosion hadn't touched him. He swept his spear in front of him, trying to locate the source of the voice. Small Bob the kitten crawled into his coveralls.

Annabeth had landed about twenty feet from the Doors. When she stood, Ariadne was so relieved she was alive it took her a moment to realize she looked like herself. The Death Mist had evaporated.

She looked at his own hands. Her disguise was gone too.

TITANS, said the voice disdainfully. LESSER BEINGS. IMPERFECT AND WEAK.

In front of the Doors of Death, the air darkened and solidified. The being who appeared was so massive, radiating such pure malevolence, that Ariadne wanted to crawl away and hide.

Instead, she forced her eyes to trace the god's form, starting with his black iron boots, each one as large as a coffin. His legs were covered in dark greaves; his flesh all thick purple muscle, like the ground. His armored skirt was made from thousands of blackened, twisted bones, woven together like chain links and clasped in place by a belt of interlocking monstrous arms.

On the surface of the warrior's breastplate, murky faces appeared and submerged – giants, Cyclopes, gorgons and drakons – all pressing against the armor as if trying to get out.

The warrior's arms were bare – muscular, purple and glistening – his hands as large as crane scoops.

Worst of all was his head: a helmet of twisted rock and metal with no particular shape – just jagged spikes and pulsing patches of magma. His entire face was a whirlpool – an inward spiral of darkness. As Ariadne watched, the last particles of Titan essence from Hyperion and Krios were vacuumed into the warrior's maw.

Somehow Ariadne found her voice. "Tartarus."

The warrior made a sound like a mountain cracking in half: a roar or a laugh, Ariadne couldn't be sure.

This form is only a small manifestation of my power, said the god. But it is enough to deal with you. I do not interfere lightly, little demigod. It is beneath me to deal with gnats such as yourself.

"Uh ..." Ariadne's legs threatened to collapse under her. "Don't ... you know ... go to any trouble."

You have proven surprisingly resilient, Tartarus said. You have come too far. I can no longer stand by and watch your progress.

Tartarus spread his arms. Throughout the valley, thousands of monsters wailed and roared, clashing their weapons and bellowing in triumph. The Doors of Death shuddered in their chains.

Be honoured, little demigods, said the god of the pit. Even the Olympians were never worthy of my personal attention. But you will be destroyed by Tartarus himself!

***

     GETTING KILLED BY TARTARUS didn't seem like much of an honor.

As Annabeth stared up at his dark whirlpool face, she decided she'd rather die in some less memorable way – maybe falling down the stairs, or going peacefully in her sleep at age eighty, after a nice quiet life with Andrea. Yes, that sounded good.

It wasn't the first time Annabeth had faced an enemy she couldn't defeat by force. Normally, this would've been her cue to stall for time with some clever Athena-like chitchat.

Except her voice wouldn't work. She couldn't even close her mouth. For all she knew, she was drooling as badly as Percy did when he slept.

She was dimly aware of the army of monsters swirling around her, but after their initial roar of triumph the horde had fallen silent. Annabeth and Ariadne should have been ripped 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 backwards recording – as if the words were being sucked into the vortex of his face rather than projected. In fact, everything seemed to be drawn towards the face of this god – the dim light, the poisonous clouds, the essence of the monsters, even Ariadne's own fragile life force. She looked around and realized that every object on this vast plain had grown a vaporous comet's tail – all pointing towards Tartarus.

Annabeth knew she should say something, but her instincts told her to hide, to avoid doing anything that would draw the god's attention.

Besides, what could she say?

She and Ariadne had only survived this long because Tartarus was savuring his new form. He wanted the pleasure of physically ripping them to pieces. If Tartarus wished, Annabeth had no doubt he could devour her existence with a single thought, as easily as he'd vaporized Hyperion and Krios. Would there be any rebirth from that? Annabeth didn't want to find out.

Next to her, Ariadne did something she'd never seen him do. She dropped his sword. It just fell out of her hand and hit the ground with a thud. Death Mist no longer shrouded her face, but she still had the complexion of a corpse.

Tartarus hissed again – possibly laughing.

Your fear smells wonderful, said the god. I see the appeal of having a physical body with so many senses. Perhaps my beloved Gaia is right, wishing to wake from her slumber.

He stretched out his massive purple hand and might have plucked up Ariadne like a weed, but Bob interrupted.

"Begone!" The Titan leveled his spear at the god. "You have no right to meddle!"

Meddle? Tartarus turned. I am the lord of all creatures of the darkness, puny Iapetus. I can do as I please.

His black cyclone face spun faster. The howling sound was so horrible that Annabeth fell to her knees and clutched her ears. Bob stumbled, the wispy comet tail of his life force growing longer as it was sucked towards the face of the god.

Bob roared in defiance. He charged and thrust his spear at Tartarus's chest. Before it could connect, Tartarus swatted Bob aside like he was a pesky insect. The Titan went sprawling.

Why do you not disintegrate? Tartarus mused. You are nothing. You are even weaker than Krios and Hyperion.

"I am Bob," said Bob.

Tartarus hissed. What is that? What is Bob?

"I choose to be more than Iapetus," said the Titan. "You do not control me. I am not like my brothers."

The collar of his coveralls bulged. Small Bob leaped out. The kitten landed on the ground in front of his master, then arched his back and hissed at the lord of the abyss.

As Annabeth watched, Small Bob began to grow, his form flickering until the little kitten had become a full-sized, translucent skeletal sabre-toothed tiger.

"Also," Bob announced, "I have a good cat."

No-Longer-Small Bob sprang at Tartarus, sinking his claws into Tartarus's thigh. The tiger scrambled up his leg, straight under the god's chain-link skirt. Tartarus stomped and howled, apparently no longer enamored with having a physical form. Meanwhile, Bob thrust his spear into the god's side, right below his breastplate.

Tartarus roared. He swatted at Bob, but the Titan backed out of reach. Bob thrust out his fingers. His spear yanked itself free of the god's flesh and flew back to Bob's hand, which made Annabeth gulp in amazement. She'd never imagined a broom could have so many useful features. Small Bob dropped out of Tartarus's skirt. He ran to his master's side, his sabre-toothed fangs dripping with golden ichor.

You will die first, Iapetus, Tartarus decided. Afterwards, I will add your soul to my armor, where it will slowly dissolve, over and over, in eternal agony.

Tartarus pounded his fist against his breastplate. Milky faces swirled in the metal, silently screaming to get out.

Bob turned towards Ariadne and Annabeth. The Titan grinned, which probably would not have been Annabeth's reaction to a threat of eternal agony.

"Take the Doors," Bob said. "I will deal with Tartarus."

Tartarus threw back his head and bellowed – creating a vacuum so strong that the nearest flying demons were pulled into his vortex face and shredded.

I the god mocked. You are only a Titan, a lesser child of Gaia! I will make you suffer for your arrogance. And as for your tiny mortal friends...

Tartarus swept his hand towards the monster army, beckoning them forward. DESTROY THEM!

Annabeth had heard those words often enough that they shocked her out of her paralysis. She raised her sword and yelled, "Ari!"

She snatched up Riptide.

Annabeth dived for the chains holding the Doors of Death. Her drakon-bone blade cut through the left-side moorings in a single swipe. Meanwhile, Ariadne drove back the first wave of monsters. She stabbed an arai and yelped, "Gah! Stupid curses!" Then she scythed down a half-dozen telkhines. Annabeth lunged behind her and sliced through the chains on the other side.

The Doors shuddered, then opened with a pleasant Ding!

Bob and his sabre-toothed sidekick continued to weave around Tartarus's legs, attacking and dodging to stay out of his clutches. They didn't seem to be doing much damage, but Tartarus lurched around, obviously not used to fighting in a humanoid body. He swiped and missed, swiped and missed.

More monsters surged towards the Doors. A spear flew past Annabeth's head. She turned and stabbed an empousa through the gut, then dived for the Doors as they started to close.

She kept them open with her foot as she fought. At least with her back to the elevator car, she didn't have to worry about attacks from behind.

"Percy, get over here!" she yelled.

She joined her in the doorway, her face dripping with sweat and blood from several cuts. "You okay?" she asked.

She nodded. "Got some kind of pain curse from that arai." She hacked a gryphon out of the air.

"Hurts, but it won't kill me. Get in the elevator. I'll hold the button."

"Yeah, right!" She smacked a carnivorous horse in the snout with the butt of her sword and sent the monster stampeding through the crowd. "You promised, Ari. We would not get separated! Ever again!"

"You're impossible!"

"Love you too!"

An entire phalanx of Cyclopes charged forward, knocking smaller monsters out of the way.

Annabeth figured she was about to die. "It had to be Cyclopes," she grumbled.
Ariadne gave a battle cry. At the Cyclopes' feet, a red vein in the ground burst open, spraying the monsters with liquid fire from the Phlegethon. The firewater might have healed mortals, but it didn't do the Cyclopes any favors. They combusted in a tidal wave of heat. The burst vein sealed itself, but nothing remained of the monsters except a row of scorch marks.

"Annabeth, you have to go!" Ariadne said. "We can't both stay!"

"No!" she cried. "Duck!"

She didn't ask why. She crouched, and Annabeth vaulted over her, bringing her sword down on the head of a heavily tattooed ogre.

She and Ariadne stood shoulder to shoulder in the doorway, waiting for the next wave. The exploding vein had given the monsters pause, but it wouldn't be long before they remembered: Hey, wait, there's seventy-five gazillion of us, and only two of them.

"Well, then," Ariadne said, "you have a better idea?"

Annabeth wished she did.

The Doors of Death stood right behind them – their exit from this nightmarish world. But they couldn't use the Doors without someone manning the controls for twelve long minutes. If they stepped inside and let the Doors close without someone holding the button, Annabeth didn't think the results would be healthy. And if they stepped away from the Doors for any reason she imagined the elevator would close and disappear without them.

The situation was so pathetically sad it was almost funny.

The crowd of monsters inched forward, snarling and gathering their courage.

Meanwhile, Bob's attacks were getting slower. Tartarus was learning to control his new body.
Sabre-toothed Small Bob lunged at the god, but Tartarus smacked the cat sideways. Bob charged, bellowing with rage, but Tartarus grabbed his spear and yanked it out of his hands. He kicked Bob downhill, knocking over a row of telkhines like sea-mammal bowling pins.

YIELD! Tartarus thundered.

"I will not," Bob said. "You are not my master."

Die in defiance, then, said the god of the pit. You Titans are nothing to me. My children the
giants were always better, stronger and more vicious. They will make the upper world as dark as my realm!

Tartarus snapped the spear in half. Bob wailed in agony. Sabre-toothed Small Bob leaped to his aid, snarling at Tartarus and baring his fangs. The Titan struggled to rise, but Annabeth knew it was over. Even the monsters turned to watch, as if sensing that their master Tartarus was about to take the spotlight. The death of a Titan was worth seeing.

Ariadne gripped Annabeth's hand. "Stay here. I've got to help him."

"Ari, you can't," she croaked. "Tartarus can't be fought. Not by us."

She knew she was right. Tartarus was in a class by himself. He was more powerful than the gods
or Titans. Demigods were nothing to him. If Ariadne charged to help Bob, he would get squashed like an ant.

But Annabeth also knew that Ariadne wouldn't listen. She couldn't leave Bob to die alone. That just wasn't her.

"We'll go together," Annabeth decided, knowing this would be their final battle. If they stepped away from the Doors, they would never leave Tartarus. At least they would die fighting side by side.

She was about to say: Now.

A ripple of alarm passed through the army. In the distance, Ariadne heard shrieks, screams and a persistent boom, boom, boom that was too fast to be the heartbeat in the ground – more like something large and heavy, running at full speed. An Earthborn spun into the air as if he'd been tossed. A plume of bright-green gas billowed across the top of the monstrous horde like the spray from a poison riot hose. Everything in its path dissolved.

Across the swath of sizzling, newly empty ground, Annabeth saw the cause of the commotion. She started to grin.

The Maeonian drakon spread its frilled collar and hissed, its poison breath filling the battlefield with the smell of pine and ginger. It shifted its hundred-foot-long body, flicking its dappled green tail and wiping out a battalion of ogres.

Riding on its back was a red-skinned giant with flowers in his rust-coloured braids, a jerkin of green leather and a drakon-rib lance in his hand.

"Damasen!" Annabeth cried.

The giant inclined his head. "Annabeth Chase, I took your advice. I chose myself a new fate."

***

WHAT IS THIS? THE GOD OF THE PIT HISSED. Why have you come, my disgraced son?

Damasen glanced at Annabeth, a clear message in his eyes: Go. Now.

He turned towards Tartarus. The Maeonian drakon stamped its feet and snarled.

"Father, you wished for a more worthy opponent?" Damasen asked calmly. "I am one of the giants you are so proud of. You wished me to be more war-like? Perhaps I will start by destroying you!"

Damasen levelled his lance and charged.

The monstrous army swarmed him, but the Maeonian drakon flattened everything in its path,
sweeping its tail and spraying poison while Damasen jabbed at Tartarus, forcing the god to retreat like a cornered lion.

Bob stumbled away from the battle, his sabre-toothed cat at his side. Ariadne gave them as much cover as he could – causing blood vessels in the ground to burst one after the other due to the pressure she was applying on Tartarus's own conscious. Some monsters were vaporized in Styx water. Others got a Cocytus shower and collapsed, weeping hopelessly. Others were doused with liquid Lethe and stared blankly around them, no longer sure where they were or even who they were.

Bob limped to the Doors. Golden ichor flowed from the wounds on his arms and chest. His janitor's outfit hung in tatters. His posture was twisted and hunched, as if Tartarus breaking the spear had broken something inside him. Despite all that, he was grinning, his silver eyes bright with satisfaction.

"Go," he ordered. "I will hold the button."

Ariadne gawked at him. "Bob, you're in no condition –"

"Ariadne." Annabeth's voice threatened to break. She hated herself for letting Bob do this, but she
knew it was the only way. "We have to."

"We can't just leave them!"

"You must, friend." Bob clapped Ariadne on the arm, nearly knocking her over. "I can still press a
button. And I have a good cat to guard me."

Small Bob the sabre-toothed growled in agreement.

"Besides," Bob said, "it is your destiny to return to the world. Put an end to this madness of Gaia."

A screaming Cyclops, sizzling from poison spray, sailed over their heads.

Fifty yards away, the Maeonian drakon trampled through monsters, its feet making sickening squish
squish noises as if stomping grapes. On its back, Damasen yelled insults and jabbed at the god of the pit, taunting Tartarus further away from the Doors.

Tartarus lumbered after him, his iron boots making craters in the ground.

You cannot kill me! he bellowed. I am the pit itself. You might as well try to kill the earth. Gaia and I – we are eternal. We own you, flesh and spirit!

He brought down his massive fist, but Damasen sidestepped, impaling his javelin in the side of Tartarus's neck.

Tartarus growled, apparently more annoyed than hurt. He turned his swirling vacuum face towards the giant, but Damasen got out of the way in time. A dozen monsters were sucked into the vortex and disintegrated.

"Bob, don't!" Ariadne said, her eyes pleading. "He'll destroy you permanently. No coming back. No regeneration."

Bob shrugged. "Who knows what will be? You must go now. Tartarus is right about one thing. We cannot defeat him. We can only buy you time."

The Doors tried to close on Annabeth's foot.

"Twelve minutes,' said the Titan. "I can give you that."

"Ari... hold the Doors." Annabeth jumped and threw her arms around the Titan's neck. She
kissed his cheek, her eyes so full of tears she couldn't see straight. Bob's stubbly face smelled of cleaning supplies – fresh lemony furniture polish and Murphy Oil wood soap.

"Monsters are eternal," she told him, trying to keep herself from sobbing. "We will remember you and Damasen as heroes, as the best Titan and the best giant. We'll tell our children. We'll keep the story alive. Some day, you will regenerate."

Bob ruffled her hair. Smile lines crinkled around his eyes. "That is good. Until then, my friends, tell the sun and the stars hello for me. And be strong. This may not be the last sacrifice you must make to stop Gaia."

He pushed her away gently. "No more time. Go."

Annabeth grabbed Ariadne's arm. She dragged her into the elevator car. She had one last glimpse of the Maeonian drakon shaking an ogre like a sock puppet, Damasen jabbing at Tartarus's legs.

The god of the pit pointed at the Doors of Death and yelled: Monsters, stop them!

Small Bob the sabre-toothed crouched and snarled, ready for action.

Bob winked at Ariadne. "Hold the Doors closed on your side," he said. "They will resist your
passage. Hold them. And tell Percy—"

The panels slid shut.

Ariadne flipped her sword in hand, thumb grazing the hilt before stopping shortly—it was engraved. She glanced down at the golden metal only to find Greek letters staring back:

Κύκνος

Cygnus.

Maybe Bob wasn't so far gone so soon.

"Ari, help me!" Annabeth yelped.

She shoved her entire body against the left door, pressing it towards the centre. Ariadne did the same on the right. There were no handles, or anything else to hold on to. As the elevator car ascended, the Doors shook and tried to open, threatening to spill them into whatever was between life and death.

Ariadne's shoulders ached. The elevator's easy-listening music didn't help. If all monsters had to hear that song about liking piña coladas and getting caught in the rain, no wonder they were in the mood for carnage when they reached the mortal world.

"We left Bob and Damasen," Ariadne croaked. "They'll die for us, and we just –"

"I know," she murmured. "Gods of Olympus, Ari, I know."

Annabeth was almost glad of the job of keeping the Doors closed. The terror racing through her
heart at least kept her from dissolving into misery. Abandoning Damasen and Bob had been the hardest thing she'd ever done.

For years at Camp Half-Blood, she had chafed as other campers went on quests while she stayed behind. She'd watched as others gained glory...or failed and didn't come back. Since she was seven years old, she had thought: Why don't I get to prove my skills? Why can't I lead a quest?

Now, she realized that the hardest test for a child of Athena wasn't leading a quest or facing death in combat. It was making the strategic decision to step back, to let someone else take the brunt of the danger – especially when that person was your friend. She had to face the fact that she couldn't protect everyone she loved. She couldn't solve every problem.

She hated it, but she didn't have time for self-pity. She blinked away her tears.

"Ari, the Doors," she warned.

The panels had started to slide apart, letting in a whiff of...ozone? Sulphur?

Ariadne pushed on her side furiously and the crack closed. Her eyes blazed with anger. She hoped she
wasn't mad at her, but if she was she couldn't blame her.

If it keeps her going, she thought, then let her be angry.

"I will kill Gaia," Ariadne muttered. "I will tear her out of existence until the only one who controls the earth is me."

Annabeth nodded, but she was thinking about Tartarus's boast. He could not be killed. Neither
could Gaia. Against such power, even Titans and giants were hopelessly outmatched. Demigods stood no chance.

She also remembered Bob's warning: This may not be the last sacrifice you must make to stop Gaia.
She felt that truth deep in her bones.

"Twelve minutes," she murmured. "Just twelve minutes."

She prayed to Athena that Bob could hold the UP button that long. She prayed for strength and
wisdom. She wondered what they would find once they reached the top of this elevator ride. If their friends weren't there, controlling the other side ...

"We can do this," Ariadne said. "We have to."

"Yeah," Annabeth said. "Yeah, we do."

They held the Doors shut as the elevator shuddered and the music played, while somewhere below them a Titan and a giant sacrificed their lives for their escape.

***

THE DOORS OF DEATH OPENED WITH A HISS. Black smoke billowed out, and two bodies spilled face-first onto the floor—Ariadne and Annabeth, limp as corpses.

Hazel sobbed. "Oh, gods..."

She and Leo started forward, but Clytius raised his hand in an unmistakable gesture – stop. He lifted his massive reptilian foot over Ariadnes head.

The giant's smoky shroud poured over the floor, covering Annabeth and Ariadne in a pool of dark fog.

"Clytius, you've lost," Hazel snarled. "Let them go, or you'll end up like Pasiphaë."

The giant tilted his head. His diamond eyes gleamed. At his feet, Annabeth lurched like she'd hit a power line. She rolled on her back, black smoke coiling from her mouth.

"I am not Pasiphaë." Annabeth spoke in a voice that wasn't hers – the words as deep as a bass guitar. "You have won nothing."

"Stop that!" Even from thirty feet away, Hazel could sense Annabeth's life force waning, her pulse becoming thready. Whatever Clytius was doing, pulling words from her mouth – it was killing her.

Clytius nudged Ariadne's head with his foot. Ariadne's face lolled to one side.

"Not quite dead." The giant's words boomed from Ariadne's mouth. "A terrible shock to the mortal body, I would imagine, coming back from Tartarus. They'll be out for a while."

He turned his attention back to Annabeth. More smoke poured from between her lips. "I'll tie them up and take them to Porphyrion in Athens. I shall use them as bait for the son of Poseidon, just the sacrifice we need. Unfortunately, that means I have no further use for you two."

"Oh, yeah?" Leo growled. "Well, maybe you got the smoke, buddy, but I've got the fire."

His hands blazed. He shot white-hot columns of flame at the giant, but Clytius's smoky aura absorbed them on impact. Tendrils of black haze travelled back up the lines of fire, snuffing out the light and heat and covering Leo in darkness.

Leo fell to his knees, clutching at his throat.

"No!" Hazel ran towards him, but Gale chattered urgently on her shoulder – a clear warning. "I would not." Clytius's voice reverberated from Leo's mouth. "You do not understand, Hazel Levesque. I devour magic. I destroy the voice and the soul. You cannot oppose me."

Black fog spread further across the room, covering Annabeth and Ariadne, billowing towards Hazel.

Blood roared in Hazel's ears. She had to act--but how? If that black smoke could incapacitate Leo so quickly, what chance did she have?

"F-fire," she stammered in a small voice. "You're supposed to be weak against it."

The giant chuckled, using Annabeth's vocal cords this time. "You were counting on that, eh? It is true I do not like fire. But Leo Valdez's flames are not strong enough to trouble me."

Somewhere behind Hazel, a soft, lyrical voice said, "What about my flames, old friend?"

Gale squeaked excitedly and jumped from Hazel's shoulder, scampering to the entrance of the cavern where a blonde woman stood in a black dress, the Mist swirling around her.

The giant stumbled backwards, bumping into the Doors of Death.

"You," he said from Ariadne's mouth.

"Me," Hecate agreed. She spread her arms. Blazing torches appeared in her hands. "It has been millennia since I fought at the side of a demigod, but Hazel Levesque has proven herself worthy. What do you say, Clytius? Shall we play with fire?"

If the giant had run away screaming, Hazel would've been grateful. Then they all could have taken the rest of the day off.

Clytius disappointed her.

When he saw the goddess's torches blazing, the giant seemed to recover his wits. He stomped his foot, shaking the floor and almost stepping on Annabeth's arm. Dark smoke billowed around him until Annabeth and Ariadne were totally hidden. Hazel could see nothing but the giant's gleaming eyes.

"Bold words." Clytius spoke from Leo's mouth. "You forget, goddess. When we last met, you had the help of Hercules and Dionysus--the most powerful heroes in the world, both of them destined to become gods. Now you bring ... these?"

Leo's unconscious body contorted in pain.

"Stop it!" Hazel yelled.

She didn't plan what happened next. She simply knew she had to protect her friends. She imagined them behind her, the same way she'd imagined new tunnels appearing in Pasiphaë's Labyrinth. Leo dissolved. He reappeared at Hazel's feet, along with Ariadne and Annabeth. The Mist whirled around her, spilling over the stones and enveloping her friends. Where the white Mist met the dark smoke of Clytius, it steamed and sizzled, like lava rolling into the sea.

Leo opened his eyes and gasped. "Wh-what ...?"

Annabeth and Ariadne remained motionless, but Hazel could sense their heartbeats getting stronger, their breath coming more evenly.

On Hecate's shoulder, Gale the polecat barked with admiration.

The goddess stepped forward, her dark eyes glittering in the torchlight. "You're right, Clytius. Hazel Levesque is not Hercules or Dionysus, but I think you will her find just as formidable."

Through the smoky shroud, Hazel saw the giant open his mouth. No words came out. Clytius sneered in frustration.

Leo tried to sit up. "What's going on? What can I –"

"Watch Ariadne and Annabeth." Hazel drew her spatha. "Stay behind me. Stay in the Mist."

"But –"

The look Hazel gave him must have been more severe than she realized.

Leo gulped. "Yeah, got it. White Mist good. Black smoke bad."

Hazel advanced. The giant spread his arms. The domed ceiling shook, and the giant's voice echoed through the room, magnified a hundred times.

Formidable? the giant demanded. It sounded as if he were speaking through a chorus of the dead, using all the unfortunate souls who'd been buried behind the dome's stelae. Because the girl has learned your magic tricks, Hecate? Because you allow these weaklings to hide in your Mist?

A sword appeared in the giant's hand--a Stygian iron blade much like Nico's, except five times the size. I do not understand why Gaia would find any of these demigods worthy of sacrifice. I will crush them like empty nutshells.

Hazel's fear turned to rage. She screamed. The walls of the chamber made a crackling sound like ice in warm water, and dozens of gems streaked towards the giant, punching through his armor like buckshot.

Clytius staggered backwards. His disembodied voice bellowed with pain. His iron breastplate was peppered with holes.

Golden ichor trickled from a wound on his right arm. His shroud of darkness thinned. Hazel could see the murderous expression on his face.

You, Clytius growled. You worthless –

"Worthless?" Hecate asked quietly. "I'd say Hazel Levesque knows a few tricks even I could not

teach her."

Hazel stood in front of her friends, determined to protect them, but her energy was fading. Her sword was already heavy in her hand, and she hadn't even swung it yet. She wished Arion were here. She could use the horse's speed and strength. Unfortunately, her equine friend would not be able to help her this time. He was a creature of the wide-open spaces, not the underground.

The giant dug his fingers into the wound on his biceps. He pulled out a diamond and flicked it aside. The wound closed.

So, daughter of Pluto, Clytius rumbled, do you really believe Hecate has your interests at heart? Circe was a favourite of hers. And Medea. And Pasiphaë. How did they end up, eh?

Behind her, Hazel heard Annabeth stirring, groaning in pain. Ariadne muttered something that sounded like, "Bob-bob-bob?"

Clytius stepped forward, holding his sword casually at his side as if they were comrades rather than enemies. Hecate will not tell you the truth. She sends acolytes like you to do her bidding and take all the risk. If by some miracle you incapacitate me, only then will she be able to set me on fire. Then she will claim the glory of the kill. You heard how Bacchus dealt with the Alodai twins in the Colosseum. Hecate is worse. She is a Titan who betrayed the Titans. Then she betrayed the gods. Do you really think she will keep faith with you?

Hecate's face was unreadable.

"I cannot answer his accusations, Hazel," said the goddess. "This is your crossroads. You must choose."

Yes, crossroads. The giant's laughter echoed. His wounds seemed to have healed completely. Hecate offers you obscurity, choices, vague promises of magic. I am the anti-Hecate. I will give you truth. I will eliminate choices and magic. I will strip away the Mist, once and for all, and show you the world in all its true horror.

Leo struggled to his feet, coughing like an asthmatic. "I'm loving this guy," he wheezed. "Seriously, we should keep him around for inspirational seminars." His hands ignited like blowtorches. "Or I could just light him up."

"Leo, no," Hazel said. "My father's temple. My call."

"Yeah, okay. But –"

"Hazel..." Annabeth wheezed.

Hazel was so elated to hear her friend's voice that she almost turned, but she knew she shouldn't take her eyes off Clytius.

"The chains ..." Ariadne managed.

Hazel inhaled sharply. She'd been a fool! The Doors of Death were still open, shuddering against the chains that held them in place. Hazel had to cut them free so they would disappear--and finally be beyond Gaia's reach.

The only problem: a big smoky giant stood in her way.

You can't seriously believe you have the strength, Clytius chided. What will you do, Hazel Levesque--pelt me with more rubies? Shower me with sapphires?

Hazel gave him an answer. She raised her spatha and charged.

Apparently, Clytius hadn't expected her to be quite so suicidal. He was slow raising his sword. By the time he slashed, Hazel had ducked between his legs and jabbed her Imperial gold blade into his gluteus maximus. Not very ladylike. The nuns at St Agnes would never have approved. But it worked.

Clytius roared and arched his back, waddling away from her. Mist still swirled around Hazel, hissing as it met the giant's black smoke.

Hazel realized that Hecate was assisting her – lending her the strength to keep up a defensive shroud. Hazel also knew that the instant her own concentration wavered and that darkness touched her, she would collapse. If that happened, she wasn't sure Hecate would be able – or willing – to stop the giant from crushing her and her friends.

Hazel sprinted towards the Doors of Death. Her blade shattered the chains on the left side like they were made of ice. She lunged to the right, but Clytius yelled, NO!

By sheer luck, she wasn't cut in half. The flat of the giant's blade caught her in the chest and sent her flying. She slammed into the wall and felt bones crack.

Across the room, Leo screamed her name.

Through her blurry vision, she saw a flash of fire. Hecate stood nearby, her form shimmering as if she were about to dissolve. Her torches seemed to be flickering out, but it might just have been that Hazel was starting to lose consciousness.

She couldn't give up now. She forced herself to stand. Her side felt like it was embedded with razor blades. Her sword lay on the ground about five feet away. She staggered towards it.

"Clytius!" she shouted.

She meant it to sound like a brave challenge, but it came out as more of a croak.

At least it got his attention. The giant turned from Leo and the others. When he saw her limping forward, he laughed.

A good try, Hazel Levesque, Clytius admitted. You did better than I anticipated. But magic alone cannot defeat me, and you do not have sufficient strength. Hecate has failed you, as she fails all of her followers in the end.

The Mist around her was thinning. At the other end of the room, Leo tried to force-feed Ariadne some ambrosia, though Ariadne was still pretty much out of it. Annabeth was awake but struggling, barely able to lift her head.

Hecate stood with her torches, watching and waiting – which infuriated Hazel so much, she found one last burst of energy.

She threw her sword – not at the giant but at the Doors of Death. The chains on the right side shattered. Hazel collapsed in agony, her side burning, as the Doors shuddered and disappeared in a flash of purple light.

Clytius roared so loudly that a half-dozen stelae fell from the ceiling and shattered.

"That was for my brother, Nico," Hazel gasped. "And for destroying my father's altar."

You have forfeited your right to a quick death, the giant snarled. I will suffocate you in darkness, slowly, painfully. Hecate cannot help you. NO ONE can help you!

The goddess raised her torches. "I would not be so certain, Clytius. Hazel's friends simply needed a little time to reach her – time you have given them with your boasting and bragging."

Clytius snorted. What friends? These weaklings? They are no challenge.

In front of Hazel, the air rippled. The Mist thickened, creating a doorway, and four people stepped through.

Hazel wept with relief. Frank's arm was bleeding and bandaged, but he was alive. Next to him stood Percy, Nico, Piper and Jason – all with their swords drawn.

"Sorry we're late," Jason said. "Is this the guy who needs killing?"

***

HAZEL ALMOST FELT SORRY FOR CLYTIUS.

They attacked him from every direction – Leo shooting fire at his legs, Frank and Piper jabbing at his chest, Jason flying into the air and kicking him in the face. Percy was slashing like a maniac, which had not been all that different ever since Ariadne fell into Tartarus. Hazel was proud to see how well Piper remembered her sword-fighting lessons.

Each time the giant's smoky veil started creeping around one of them, Nico was there, slashing through it, drinking in the darkness with his Stygian blade.

Ariadne and Annabeth were on their feet, looking weak and dazed, but their swords were drawn. When did Annabeth get a sword? And what was it made of – ivory? They looked like they wanted to help, but there was no need. The giant was surrounded.

Clytius snarled, turning back and forth as if he couldn't decide which of them to kill first. Wait! Hold still! No! Ouch!

The darkness around him dispelled completely, leaving nothing to protect him except his battered armour. Ichor oozed from a dozen wounds. The damage healed almost as fast as it was inflicted, but Hazel could tell the giant was tiring.

One last time Jason flew at him, kicking him in the chest, and the giant's breastplate shattered. Clytius staggered backwards. His sword dropped to the floor. He fell to his knees, and the demigods encircled him.

Percy gave a lasting battle cry, the ground beneath Clytius breaking as a geyser of boiling water burned him, causing cries of pain to flood the air. The son of Poseidon laughed with glee.

Only then did Hecate step forward, her torches raised. Mist curled around the giant, hissing and bubbling as it touched his skin.

"And so it ends," Hecate said.

It does not end. Clytius's voice echoed from somewhere above, muffled and slurred. My brethren have risen. Gaia waits only for the blood of Olympus. It took all of you together to defeat me. What will you do when the Earth Mother opens her eyes?

Hecate turned her torches upside down. She thrust them like daggers at Clytius's head. The giant's hair went up faster than dry tinder, spreading down his head and across his body until the heat of the bonfire made Hazel wince. Clytius fell without a sound, face-first into the rubble of Hades's altar. His body crumbled to ashes.

For a moment, no one spoke. Hazel heard a ragged, painful noise and realized it was her own breathing. Her side felt like it had been kicked in with a battering ram.

The goddess Hecate faced her. "You should go now, Hazel Levesque. Lead your friends out of this place."

Hazel gritted her teeth, trying to hold in her anger. "Just like that? No "thank you"? No "good work"?"

The goddess tilted her head. Gale the weasel chittered – maybe a goodbye, maybe a warning – and disappeared in the folds of her mistress's skirts.

"You look in the wrong place for gratitude," Hecate said. "As for "good work", that remains to be seen. Speed your way to Athens. Clytius was not wrong. The giants have risen – all of them, stronger than ever. Gaia is on the very edge of waking. The Feast of Hope will be poorly named unless you arrive to stop her."

The chamber rumbled. Another stela crashed to the floor and shattered.

"The House of Hades is unstable," Hecate said. "Leave now. We shall meet again."

The goddess dissolved. The Mist evaporated.

"She's friendly," Percy grumbled.

The others turned towards Ariadne and Annabeth, as if just realizing they were there.

"Ari." Jason gave her a bear hug.

"Back from Tartarus!" Leo whooped. "That's my peeps! Look at you, Firebird!"

Piper threw her arms around Annabeth and cried.

Percy had disappeared, although she heard his voice from somewhere near the shadows, near Nico.

Before she could say that, the ceiling shuddered. Cracks appeared in the remaining tiles. Columns of dust spilled down.

"We've got to get out of here," Jason said. "Uh, Frank ...?"

Frank shook his head. "I think one favor from the dead is all I can manage today."

"Wait, what?" Hazel asked.

Piper raised her eyebrows. "Your unbelievable boyfriend called in a favor as a child of Mars. He summoned the spirits of some dead warriors, made them lead us here through ... um, well, I'm not sure, actually. The passages of the dead? All I know is that it was very, very dark."

To their left, a section of the wall split. Two ruby eyes from a carved stone skeleton popped out and rolled across the floor.

"We'll have to shadow-travel," Hazel said.

Nico winced. "Hazel, I can barely manage that with only myself. With seven more people –"

"I'll help you." She tried to sound confident. She'd never shadow-travelled before, had no idea if she could, but after working with the Mist, altering the Labyrinth – she had to believe it was possible. An entire section of tiles peeled loose from the ceiling.

"Everyone, grab hands!" Nico yelled.

They made a hasty circle. Hazel envisioned the Greek countryside above them. The cavern collapsed, and she felt herself dissolving into shadow.

They appeared on the hillside overlooking the River Acheron. The sun was just rising, making the water glitter and the clouds glow orange. The cool morning air smelled of honeysuckle.

Hazel was holding hands with Frank on her left, Nico on her right. They were all alive and mostly whole. The sunlight in the trees was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. She wanted to live in that moment – free of monsters and gods and evil spirits.

Then her friends began to stir.

Nico realized that he was holding Percy's hand and quickly let go. Leo staggered backwards. "You know ... I think I'll sit down."

He collapsed. The others joined him. The Argo II still floated over the river a few hundred yards away. Hazel knew that they should signal Coach Hedge and tell him they were alive. Had they been in the temple all night? Or several nights? But at the moment the group was too tired to do anything except sit and relax and marvel at the fact that they were okay.

Percy let out a shaky breath, still standing in the night air. HIs eyes filled with tears at the sight of Ariadne--torn and bloody, eyes wild with feral rage even now in the midst of friends. His hands shook with anticipation but he didn't want to scare her. He had spent sixteen days fighting sleep and food to find her, to fight through every monster Tartarus let through to see her again.

Ariadne dropped her sword in the dark grass, a sob crackling her bleeding lips as tears poured from her cheeks. She couldn't say anything as their own friends watched with baited breaths at the soulmates. Percy took the first steps to her.

They slid to the ground bound in each other's arms. Ariadne sobbed into Percy's shoulder as her tears dampened his shirt while he held her head, arms around so tightly she could evaporate into gold dust. She mumbled dazed words only he understood in their connection.

Soon enough, they separated, and both sat as close to the other while they began to exchange stories.

Frank explained what had happened with the ghostly legion and the army of monsters – how Nico had used the sceptre of Diocletian and how bravely Jason and Piper had fought. Percy's mental battles with Gaia and almost getting himself thrown in Tartarus to find Ariadne and Annabeth.

"Frank is being modest," Jason said. "He controlled the entire legion. You should've seen him. Oh, by the way..." Jason glanced at Percy. "I resigned my office, gave Frank a field promotion to praetor. Unless you want to contest that ruling."

Percy grinned. "No argument here."

"Praetor?" Hazel stared at Frank.

He shrugged uncomfortably. "Well ... yeah. I know it seems weird."

She tried to throw her arms around him, then winced as she remembered her busted ribs. She settled for kissing him. "It seems perfect."

Leo clapped Frank on the shoulder. "Way to go, Zhang. Now you can order Octavian to fall on his

sword."

"Tempting," Frank agreed. He turned apprehensively to Ariadne. "But you guys...Tartarus has to be the real story. What happened down there? How did you...?"

Percy laced his fingers through Ariadne's. The blonde and the brunette shivered with memories.

Hazel happened to glance at Nico and saw pain in his eyes. She wasn't sure, but maybe he was thinking how lucky Ariadne and Annabeth were to have each other. Nico had gone through Tartarus alone.

"Not now," Ariadne promised. "I don't think I can..."

"No," Annabeth agreed. "Right now ..." She gazed towards the river and faltered. "Uh, I think our ride is coming."

Hazel turned. The Argo II veered to port, its aerial oars in motion, its sails catching the wind. Festus's head glinted in the sunlight. Even from a distance, Hazel could hear him creaking and clanking in jubilation.

"That's my boy!" Leo yelled.

As the ship got closer, Hazel saw Coach Hedge standing at the prow.

"About time!" the coach yelled down. He was doing his best to scowl, but his eyes gleamed as if maybe, just maybe, he was happy to see them. "What took you so long, cupcakes? You kept your visitor waiting!"

"Visitor?" Hazel murmured.

At the rail next to Coach Hedge, a dark-haired girl appeared wearing a purple cloak, her face so covered with soot and bloody scratches that Hazel almost didn't recognize her.

Reyna had arrived, and she had brought none other than Grover Underwood with her.

***

ARIADNE STARED AT THE ATHENA PARTHENOS, WAITING FOR IT TO STRIKER HER DOWN.

Leo's new mechanical hoist system had lowered the statue onto the hillside with surprising ease. Now the forty-foot-tall goddess gazed serenely over the River Acheron, her gold dress like molten metal in the sun.

"Incredible," Reyna admitted. She was still red-eyed from crying. Soon after she'd landed on the Argo II, her pegasus Scipio had collapsed, overwhelmed by poisoned claw marks from a gryphon attack the night before. Reyna had put the horse out of his misery with her golden knife, turning the pegasus into dust that scattered in the sweet-smelling Greek air. Maybe not a bad end for a flying horse, but Reyna had lost a loyal friend. Ariadne figured that she'd given up too much in her life already.

The praetor circled the Athena Parthenos warily. "It looks newly made."

"Yeah," Leo said. "We brushed off the cobwebs, used a little Windex. It wasn't hard."

The Argo II hovered just overhead. With Festus keeping watch for threats on the radar, the entire crew had decided to eat lunch on the hillside while they discussed what to do. After the last few weeks, Ariadne figured they'd earned a good meal together – really anything that wasn't fire water or drakon meat soup.

"Hey, Reyna," Annabeth called. "Have some food. Join us."

The praetor glanced over, her dark eyebrows furrowed, as if join us didn't quite compute. Ariadne had never seen Reyna without her armor before. It was onboard the ship, being repaired by Buford the Wonder Table. She wore a pair of jeans and a purple Camp Jupiter T-shirt and looked almost like a normal teenager – except for the knife at her belt and that guarded expression, like she was ready for an attack from any direction.

"All right," she said finally.

They scooted over to make room for her in the circle. She sat cross-legged next to Annabeth, picked up a cheese sandwich and nibbled at the edge.

"So," Reyna said. "Frank Zhang ... praetor."

Frank shifted, wiping crumbs from his chin. "Well, yeah. Field promotion."

"To lead a different legion," Reyna noted. "A legion of ghosts."

Hazel put her arm protectively through Frank's. After an hour in sick bay, they both looked a lot better, but Ariadne could tell they weren't sure what to think about their old boss from Camp Jupiter dropping in for lunch.

"Reyna," Jason said, "you should've seen him."

"He was amazing," Piper agreed.

"Frank is a leader." Hazel insisted. "He makes a great praetor."

Reyna's eyes stayed on Frank, like she was trying to guess his weight. "I believe you," she said. "I approve."

Frank blinked. "You do?"

Reyna smiled dryly. "A son of Mars, the hero who helped to bring back the eagle of the legion ... I

can work with a demigod like that. I'm just wondering how to convince the Twelfth Fulminata."

Frank scowled. "Yeah. I've been wondering the same thing."

Ariadne still couldn't get over how much Frank had changed. A 'growth spurt' was putting it mildly.

He was at least three inches taller, less pudgy and more bulky, like a linebacker. His face looked sturdier, his jawline more rugged. It was as if Frank had turned into a bull and then back to human, but he'd kept some of the bullishness.

Ariadne leaned into Percy's chest from where he sat against the wall of the ship, holding her tightly. After greeting Grover, who was getting caught up by Coach Hedge somewhere else, and Andrea having a very harsh talk with Annabeth about safety over Iris-Message, Ariadne could somewhat relax.

"The legion will listen to you, Reyna," Frank said. "You made it here alone, across the ancient lands."

Reyna chewed her sandwich as if it were cardboard. "In doing so, I broke the laws of the legion."

"Caesar broke the law when he crossed the Rubicon," Frank said. "Great leaders have to think outside the box sometimes."

She shook her head. "I'm not Caesar. After finding Jason's note in Diocletian's Palace, tracking you down was easy. I only did what I thought was necessary."

Percy couldn't help smiling. "Reyna, you're too modest. Flying halfway across the world by yourself to answer Annabeth's plea, because you knew it was our best chance for peace? That's pretty freaking heroic."

"I second that," Ariadne said.

Reyna shrugged. "Says the demigod who fell into Tartarus and found her way back."

"She had help," Annabeth said.

"Oh, obviously," Reyna said. "Without you, I doubt Percy could find his way out of a paper bag. Nevertheless, help Ariadne."

"True," Annabeth agreed.

"Hey!" Percy complained. He kissed his girlfriend on the temple when she laughed, but it didn't reach her eyes in truth.

The others started laughing, but Ariadne didn't mind. It felt good to see them smile. Heck, just being in the mortal world felt good, breathing un-poisonous air, enjoying actual sunshine on her back. Suddenly she thought of Bob. Tell the sun and stars hello for me.

Ariadne's smile melted. Bob and Damasen had sacrificed their lives so that Ariadne and Annabeth could sit here now, enjoying the sunlight and laughing with their friends.

It wasn't fair.

Leo pulled a tiny screwdriver from his tool belt. He stabbed a chocolate-covered strawberry and passed it to Coach Hedge and Grover, who sat next to Annabeth and held her close. Then he pulled out another screwdriver and speared a second strawberry for himself.

"So, the twenty-million-peso question," Leo said. "We got this slightly used forty-foot-tall statue of Athena. What do we do with it?"

Reyna squinted at the Athena Parthenos. "As fine as it looks on this hill, I didn't come all this way to admire it. According to Annabeth, it must be returned to Camp Half-Blood by a Roman leader. Do I understand correctly?"

Annabeth nodded. "I had a dream down in...you know, Tartarus. I was on Half-Blood Hill, and Athena's voice said, I must stand here. The Roman must bring me."

Percy studied the statue uneasily. He'd never had the best relationship with Annabeth's mom. He kept expecting Big Mama Statue to come alive and chew him out for getting her daughter into so much trouble – or maybe just step on him without a word.

"It makes sense," Nico said.

Grover bleated lightly. He ate a wrapper in stress. "I know I wanted to come, but nothing has changed since we were twelve, huh, guys?"

Ariadne, Percy, and Annabeth nodded.

It almost sounded like Nico had read his mind and was agreeing that Athena should step on him.

The son of Hades sat at the other end of the circle, eating nothing but half a pomegranate, the fruit of the Underworld. Percy wondered if that was Nico's idea of a joke.

"The statue is a powerful symbol," Nico said. "A Roman returning it to the Greeks ... that could heal the historic rift, maybe even heal the gods of their split personalities."

Coach Hedge swallowed his strawberry along with half the screwdriver. "Now, hold on. I like

peace as much as the next satyr –"

"You hate peace," Leo said.

"The point is, Valdez, we're only – what, a few days from Athens? We've got an army of giants

waiting for us there. We went to all the trouble of saving this statue –"

"I went to most of the trouble," Annabeth reminded him.

"– because that prophecy called it the giants' bane," the coach continued. "So why aren't we taking it to Athens with us? It's obviously our secret weapon." He eyed the Athena Parthenos. "It looks like a ballistic missile to me. Maybe if Valdez strapped some engines to it –"

Piper cleared her throat. "Uh, great idea, Coach, but a lot of us have had dreams and visions of Gaia rising at Camp Half-Blood..."

She unsheathed her dagger Katoptris and set it on her plate. At the moment, the blade showed nothing except sky, but looking at it still made Percy uncomfortable.

"Since we got back to the ship," Piper said, "I've been seeing some bad stuff in the knife. The Roman legion is almost within striking distance of Camp Half-Blood. They're gathering reinforcements: spirits, eagles, wolves."

"Octavian," Reyna growled. "I told him to wait."

"When we take over command," Frank suggested, "our first order of business should be to load Octavian into the nearest catapult and fire him as far away as possible."

"Agreed," Reyna said. "But for now –"

"He's intent on war," Annabeth put in. "He'll have it, unless we stop him."

Piper turned the blade of her knife. "Unfortunately, that's not the worst of it. I saw images of a possible future – the camp in flames, Roman and Greek demigods lying dead. And Gaia ..." Her voice failed her.

Ariadne remembered the god Tartarus in physical form, looming over her. She'd never felt such helplessness and terror. She still burned with shame, remembering how her sword had slipped out of her hand.

You might as well try to kill the earth, Tartarus had said.

If Gaia was that powerful, and she had an army of giants at her side, Ariadne didn't see how eight demigods could stop her, especially when most of the gods were incapacitated. They had to stop the giants before Gaia woke, or it was game over. Even if she wanted to tear Gaia apart, it was looking less likely now.

If the Athena Parthenos was a secret weapon, taking it to Athens was pretty tempting. Heck, Ariadne kind of liked the coach's idea of using it as a missile and sending Gaia up in a godly nuclear mushroom cloud. Although, Grover would have something against the earth and it's whole safety.

Unfortunately, her gut told her that Annabeth was right. The statue belonged back on Long Island, where it might be able to stop the war between the two camps.

"So Reyna takes the statue," Percy said. "And we continue on to Athens."

Leo shrugged. "Cool with me. But, uh, a few pesky logistical problems. We got what – two weeks until that Roman feast day when Gaia is supposed to rise?"

"The Feast of Spes," Jason said. "That's on the first of August. Today is –"

"July eighteenth," Frank offered. "So, yeah, from tomorrow, exactly fourteen days."

Hazel winced. "It took us eighteen days to get from Rome to here – a trip that should've only taken two or three days, max."

"So, given our usual luck," Leo said, "maybe we have enough time to get the Argo II to Athens, find the giants and stop them from waking Gaia. Maybe. But how is Reyna supposed to get this massive statue back to Camp Half-Blood before the Greeks and Romans put each other through the blender? She doesn't even have her pegasus any more. Uh, sorry –"

"Fine," Reyna snapped. She might be treating them like allies rather than enemies, but Ariadne could tell Reyna still had a not-so-soft spot for Leo, probably because he'd blown up half the Forum in New Rome.

She took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, Leo is correct. I don't see how I can transport something so large. I was assuming – well, I was hoping you all would have an answer."

"The Labyrinth," Hazel said. "I – I mean, if Pasiphaë really has reopened it, and I think she has..." She looked at Percy apprehensively. "Well, you said the Labyrinth could take you anywhere. So maybe –"

"No." Percy, Ariadne, Annabeth, and Grover spoke in unison.

"I'm going to shoot you down completely, Hazel," Ariadne said. "It's just..."

She struggled to find the right words. How could she describe the Labyrinth to someone who'd never explored it? Daedalus had created it to be a living, growing maze. Over the centuries it had spread like the roots of a tree under the entire surface of the world. Sure, it could take you anywhere. Distance inside was meaningless. You could enter the maze in New York, walk ten feet and exit the maze in Los Angeles – but only if you found a reliable way to navigate. Otherwise the Labyrinth would trick you and try to kill you at every turn. When the tunnel network had collapsed after Daedalus died, Ariadne had been relieved. The idea that the maze was regenerating itself, honeycombing its way under the earth again and providing a spacious new home for monsters...that didn't make her happy. She had enough problems already.

"For one thing," Percy said, "the passages in the Labyrinth are way too small for the Athena Parthenos. There's no chance you could take it down there –"

"And even if the maze is reopening," Annabeth continued, "we don't know what it might be like now. It was dangerous enough before, under Daedalus's control, and he wasn't evil. If Pasiphaë has remade the Labyrinth the way she wanted..." She shook her head. "Hazel, maybe your underground senses could guide Reyna through, but no one else would stand a chance. And we need you here. Besides, if you got lost down there –"

"You're right," Hazel said glumly. "Never mind."

Reyna cast her eyes around the group. "Other ideas?"

"I could go," Frank offered, not sounding very happy about it. "If I'm a praetor, I should go. Maybe we could rig some sort of sled, or –"

"No, Frank Zhang." Reyna gave him a weary smile. "I hope we will work side by side in the future, but for now your place is with the crew of this ship. You are one of the eight of the prophecy."

"I'm not," Nico said.

Everybody stopped eating. Ariadne stared across the circle at Nico, trying to decide if he was joking. Hazel set down her fork. "Nico –"

"I'll go with Reyna," he said. "I can transport the statue with shadow-travel."

"Uh ..." Percy raised his hand. "I mean, I know you just got all nine of us to the surface, and that was awesome. But a year ago you said transporting just yourself was dangerous and unpredictable. A couple of times you ended up in China. Transporting a forty-foot statue and two people halfway across the world –"

"I've changed since I came back from Tartarus." Nico's eyes glittered with anger – more intensely than Percy understood. He wondered if he'd done something to offend the guy.

"Nico," Jason intervened, "we're not questioning your power. We just want to make sure you don't kill yourself trying."

"I can do it," he insisted. "I'll make short jumps – a few hundred miles each time. It's true, after each jump I won't be in any shape to fend off monsters. I'll need Reyna to defend me and the statue." Reyna had an excellent poker face. She studied the group, scanning their faces, but betraying none of her own thoughts. "Any objections?"

No one spoke.

"Very well," she said, with the finality of a judge. If she'd had a gavel, Percy suspected she would have banged it. "I see no better option. But there will be many monster attacks. I would feel better taking a third person. That's the optimal number for a quest."

"Coach Hedge," Frank blurted.

Ariadne stared at him, not sure she'd heard correctly. "Uh, what, Frank?"

"The coach is the best choice," Frank said. "The only choice. He's a good fighter. He's a certified protector. He'll get the job done. We also have Grover to feeling as protector, seeing as he's lord of the Wild."

"A faun," Reyna said.

"Satyr!" barked the coach and Grover. "And, yeah, I'll go. Besides, when you get to Camp Half-Blood, you'll need somebody with connections and diplomatic skills to keep the Greeks from attacking you. Just let me go make a call – er, I mean, get my baseball bat."

He got up and shot Frank an unspoken message that Ariadne couldn't quite read. Despite the fact that he'd just been volunteered for a likely suicide mission, the coach looked grateful. He jogged off towards the ship's ladder, tapping his hooves together like an excited kid.

Nico rose. "I should go, too, and rest before the first passage. We'll meet at the statue at sunset."

Once he was gone, Hazel frowned. "He's acting strangely. I'm not sure he's thinking this through."

"He'll be okay," Jason said.

"I hope you're right." Ariadne passed her hand over the ground. Vines broke the surface, most crooked and filled with thrones, a dirty color that was a reaction to just being in Tartarus. "We're at another crossroads. The Athena Parthenos goes west. The Argo II goes east. I hope we chose correctly."

Percy wished he could say something encouraging, but he felt unsettled. Despite all they'd been through and all the battles they'd won, they still seemed no closer to defeating Gaia. Sure, they'd released Thanatos. They'd closed the Doors of Death. At least now they could kill monsters and make them stay in Tartarus for a while. But the giants were back – all the giants.

"One thing bothers me," he said. He rested a hand on Ariadne's thigh, holding her hand. "If the Feast of Spes is in two weeks, and Gaia needs the blood of two demigods to wake – what did Clytius call it? The blood of Olympus? – then aren't we doing exactly what Gaia wants, heading to Athens? If we don't go, and she can't sacrifice any of us, doesn't that mean she can't wake up fully?"

Ariadne squeezed his hand. He drank in the sight of her now that they she was back in the mortal world, without the blood, her brunette hair catching the sunlight – even if she was still thin and wan and her purple eyes were stormy with misery.

"Percy, prophecies cut both ways," Annabeth said. "If we don't go, we may lose our best and only chance to stop her. Athens is where our battle lies. We can't avoid it. Besides, trying to thwart prophecies never works. Gaia could capture us somewhere else or spill the blood of some other demigods."

"Yeah, you're right," Percy said. "I don't like it, but you're right."

The mood of the group became as gloomy as Tartarus air, until Piper broke the tension. "Well!" She sheathed her blade and patted her cornucopia. "Good picnic. Who wants dessert?"

At sunset, Ariadne and Percy found Nico tying ropes around the pedestal of the Athena Parthenos. "Thank you," Ariadne said.

Nico frowned. "What for?"

"You promised to lead the others to the House of Hades and protecting Percy," Ariadne said. "You did it."

Nico tied the ends of the ropes together, making a halter. "You got me out of that bronze jar in

Rome. Saved my life yet again. It was the least I could do."

His voice was steely, guarded. Percy wished he could figure out what made this guy tick, but he'd never been able to. Nico was no longer the geeky kid from Westover Hall with the Mythomagic cards. Nor was he the angry loner who'd followed the ghost of Minos through the Labyrinth. But who was he?

"Also," Percy said, "you visited Bob..."

Ariadne told Nico about their trip through Tartarus. She figured if anyone could understand, Nico could. "You convinced Bob that I could be trusted, even though I never visited him. I never gave him a second thought. You probably saved our lives by being nice to him."

"Yeah, well," Nico said,"'not giving people a second thought...that can be dangerous."

"Dude, I'm trying to say thank you."

Nico laughed without humor. "I'm trying to say you don't need to. Now I need to finish this, if you could give me some space?"

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." Percy stepped back while Nico took up the slack on his ropes. He slipped

them over his shoulders as if the Athena Parthenos were a giant backpack.

Percy couldn't help feeling a little hurt, being told to take a hike. Then again, Nico had been through a lot. The guy had survived in Tartarus on his own. Ariadne understood firsthand just how much strength that must have taken.

Annabeth walked up the hill to join them. She took Ariadne's hand, which made her feel better.

"Good luck," she told Nico.

"Yeah." He didn't meet her eyes. "You, too."

A minute later, Reyna and Coach Hedge arrived in full armor with packs over their shoulders.

Reyna looked grim and ready for combat. Coach Hedge grinned like he was expecting a surprise party.

Reyna gave Annabeth and Ariadne a hug. "We will succeed," she promised.

"I know you will," Annabeth said.

Coach Hedge shouldered his baseball bat. "Yeah, don't worry. I'm going to get to camp and see my baby! Uh, I mean I'm going to get this baby to camp!" He patted the leg of the Athena Parthenos.

"All right," said Nico. "Grab the ropes, please. Here we go."

Reyna and Hedge took hold. The air darkened. The Athena Parthenos collapsed into its own shadow and disappeared, along with its three escorts.

The Argo II sailed after nightfall.

They veered southwest until they reached the coast, then splashed down in the Ionian Sea. Percy was relieved to feel the waves beneath him again.

It would have been a shorter trip to Athens over land, but after the crew's experience with mountain spirits in Italy, they'd decided not to fly over Gaia's territory any more than they had to. They would sail around the Greek mainland, following the routes that Greek heroes had taken in the ancient times.

That was fine with Percy. He loved being back in his father's element – with the fresh sea air in his lungs and the salty spray on his arms. He stood at the starboard rail and closed his eyes, sensing the currents beneath them.

Ariadne saw images of Tartarus kept burning in his mind – the River Phlegethon, the blistered ground where monsters regenerated, the dark forest where arai circled overhead in the blood-mist clouds. Most of all, she thought about a hut in the swamp with a warm fire and racks of drying herbs and drakon jerky. She wondered if that hut was empty now.

Annabeth pressed next to her at the rail, her warmth reassuring.

"I know," she murmured, reading his expression. "I can't get that place out of my head, either."

"Damasen," Ariadne said. "And Bob..."

"I know." Her voice was fragile. "We have to make their sacrifice worth it. We have to beat Gaia."

Percy stared into the night sky. He wished they were looking at it from the beach on Long Island rather than from halfway around the world, sailing towards almost certain death.

He wondered where Nico, Reyna and Hedge were now, and how long it would take them to make it back – assuming they survived. He imagined the Romans drawing up battle lines right now, encircling Camp Half-Blood.

Fourteen days to reach Athens. Then one way or another, the war would be decided.

Over in the bow, Leo whistled happily as he tinkered with Festus's mechanical brain, muttering something about a crystal and an astrolabe. Amidships, Piper and Hazel practised their swordplay, gold and bronze blades ringing in the night. Jason and Frank stood at the helm, talking in low tones – maybe telling stories of the legion or sharing thoughts on being praetor.

"We've got a good crew," Percy said. "If I have to sail to my death –"

"You're not dying on either of us, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth said. 'Gods know I would never find someone else to take Ari off my hands.'

The brunette scoffed in offense, shoving her sister.

"What?'" Percy asked.

Ariadne kissed him. "Ask me again, once we defeat Gaia."

He smiled, happy to have something to look forward to. "Whatever you say."

As they sailed further from the coast, the sky darkened and more stars came out.

Ariadne studied the constellations – the ones she had taught Percy so many years ago.

"Bob says hello," she told the stars.

The Argo II sailed into the night.

Ariadne Phoenix held onto Percy Jackson like he was her lifeline, and he was.

authors note

over 16000 words! my largest one yet! enjoy and I'm sorry about the long hiatus!