The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4) (39 page)

F
RANK DIDN’T NOTICE THAT HE WAS GLOWING.
Later Jason told him that the blessing of Mars had shrouded him in red light, like it had in Venice. Javelins couldn’t touch him. Rocks somehow got deflected. Even with an arrow sticking out of his left biceps, Frank had never felt so full of energy.

The first Cyclops he met went down so quickly it was almost a joke. Frank sliced him in half from shoulder to waist. The big guy exploded into dust. The next Cyclops backed up nervously, so Frank cut his legs out from under him and sent him into the pit.

The remaining monsters on their side of the chasm tried to retreat, but the legion cut them down.

‘Testudo formation!’ Frank shouted. ‘Single file, advance!’

Frank was the first one across the bridge. The dead followed, their shields locked on either side and over their heads, deflecting all attacks. As the last of the zombies
crossed, the stone bridge crumbled into the darkness, but by then it didn’t matter.

Nico kept summoning more legionnaires to join the fight. Over the history of the empire, thousands of Romans had served and died in Greece. Now they were back, answering the call of Diocletian’s sceptre.

Frank waded forward, destroying everything in his path.

‘I will burn you!’ a telkhine squeaked, desperately waving a vial of Greek fire. ‘I have fire!’

Frank took him down. As the vial dropped towards the ground, Frank kicked it over the cliff before it could explode.

An
empousa
raked her claws across Frank’s chest, but Frank felt nothing. He sliced the demon into dust and kept moving. Pain was unimportant. Failure was unthinkable.

He was a leader of the legion now, doing what he was born to do – fighting the enemies of Rome, upholding its legacy, protecting the lives of his friends and comrades. He was Praetor Frank Zhang.

His forces swept the enemy away, breaking their every attempt to regroup. Jason and Piper fought at his side, yelling defiantly. Nico waded through the last group of Earthborn, slashing them into mounds of wet clay with his black Stygian sword.

Before Frank knew it, the battle was over. Piper chopped through the last
empousa
, who vaporized with an anguished wail.

‘Frank,’ Jason said, ‘you’re on fire.’

He looked down. A few drops of oil must have splattered
on his trousers, because they were starting to smoulder. Frank batted at them until they stopped smoking, but he wasn’t particularly worried. Thanks to Leo, he no longer had to fear fire.

Nico cleared his throat. ‘Uh … you also have an arrow sticking through your arm.’

‘I know.’ Frank snapped off the point of the arrow and pulled out the shaft by the tail. He felt only a warm tugging sensation. ‘I’ll be fine.’

Piper made him eat a piece of ambrosia. As she bandaged his wound, she said, ‘Frank, you were amazing. Completely terrifying, but amazing.’

Frank had trouble processing her words.
Terrifying
couldn’t apply to him. He was just Frank.

His adrenalin drained away. He looked around him, wondering where all the enemies had gone. The only monsters left were his own undead Romans, standing in a stupor with their weapons lowered.

Nico held up his sceptre, its orb dark and dormant. ‘The dead won’t stay much longer, now that the battle is over.’

Frank faced his troops. ‘Legion!’

The zombie soldiers snapped to attention.

‘You fought well,’ Frank told them. ‘Now you may rest. Dismissed.’

They crumbled into piles of bones, armour, shields and weapons. Then even those disintegrated.

Frank felt as if he might crumble too. Despite the ambrosia, his wounded arm began to throb. His eyes were heavy with
exhaustion. The blessing of Mars faded, leaving him depleted. But his work wasn’t done yet.

‘Hazel and Leo,’ he said. ‘We need to find them.’

His friends peered across the chasm. At the other end of the cavern, the tunnel Hazel and Leo had entered was buried under tons of rubble.

‘We can’t go that way,’ Nico said. ‘Maybe …’

Suddenly he staggered. He would have fallen if Jason hadn’t caught him.

‘Nico!’ Piper said. ‘What is it?’

‘The Doors,’ Nico said. ‘Something’s happening. Percy and Annabeth … we need to go
now
.’

‘But how?’ Jason said. ‘That tunnel is
gone
.’

Frank clenched his jaw. He hadn’t come this far to stand around helplessly while his friends were in trouble. ‘It won’t be fun,’ he said, ‘but there’s another way.’

G
ETTING KILLED BY
T
ARTARUS
didn’t seem like much of an honour.

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 Percy. 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 Percy 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 Annabeth’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?
You won’t get away with this!

That wasn’t true. She and Percy had only survived this long because Tartarus was savouring 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, Percy did something she’d never seen him do. He dropped his sword. It just fell out of his hand and hit the ground with a thud. Death Mist no longer shrouded his face, but he 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 Percy like a weed, but Bob interrupted.

‘Begone!’ The Titan levelled 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 enamoured 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 armour, 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 Percy 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.

Deal
with me?
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!

DESTROY THEM

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

He 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, Percy drove back the first wave of monsters. He stabbed an
arai
and yelped, ‘Gah! Stupid curses!’ Then he scythed down a half-dozen telkhines. Annabeth lunged behind him 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.

He joined her in the doorway, his face dripping with sweat and blood from several cuts.

‘You okay?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Got some kind of
pain
curse from that
arai
.’ He 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, Seaweed Brain. 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.

Percy 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 favours. 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!’ Percy said. ‘We can’t both stay!’

‘No!’ she cried. ‘Duck!’

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

She and Percy 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,’ Percy 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.

Percy gripped Annabeth’s hand. ‘Stay here. I’ve got to help him.’

‘Percy, 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 Percy charged to help Bob, he would get squashed like an ant.

But Annabeth also knew that Percy wouldn’t listen. He couldn’t leave Bob to die alone. That just wasn’t him – and that was one of the many reasons she loved him, even if he was an Olympian-sized pain in the
podex
.

‘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, Annabeth 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.’