The Heir Part I: Heritage (A Percy Jackson Fanfiction)

Chapter Thirty-Eight: "Running Blind"

It might as well be pitch dark. As we walk into the fog, it seems to condense around our eyes, making sure I can't see two inches in front of me. I don't know about Muffin, but even he seems to stumble ever so often. We're blind in this fog.
My fist is clenched around a tuft of Muffin's fur, but if it hurts, he doesn't show it. We need to stick together.
"So," I say, though my voice sounds like an ant's. Small, and uncertain. Nothing without other ants to back me up. "What happened while I was talking to Akhlys? You seemed kinda... dazed."
"I'm assuming you felt those waves of misery coming off of her?"
"Oh yeah," I say, thinking about the screaming voice in my head. While it was no longer quite so loud, whispers still lurked in the back of my mind like a brain tumor.
"Well, I couldn't think straight. It was like the world was on mute, Young Guardian. I could barely hear anything, except for..."
"The voice," I finish. "I heard it too."
"Akhlys is the goddess of Misery," Muffin says, as if that wasn't obvious. "You— you can't let her get to you. She'll rip you into spaghetti noodles without ever touching you."
"I guess that's true," I say. In fact, I know it's true.
Because Misery has already torn me apart. It's stretching me out on the rack, pulling me in four different directions— I'm about to be drawn and quartered. I just have to keep the horses from running for just a little longer, so I can finish this. So I can make my life mean something. I have to wait until we get aboveground before I can lose my shit. If I lose my shit down here... there's no way to get it back. It'll burn in the Phlegethon, or fade from existence in the Lethe. Or, it'll dissolve in the acid air, or be torn to shreds by the glassy ground.
"Hey, Muffin," I say, reliving my conversation with Akhlys in excruciating detail. "Have you ever heard the term Olympianite?"
"No, Young Guardian. Why?"
"Akhlys called me that. An Olympianite. Is that just another word for demigod?"
"I don't know," Muffin says. "I suppose so."
He doesn't sound convinced. I wish he had said yes. I wish that I could dismiss the word from my mind. Whatever it is, I hope Akhlys is wrong. The way she said it... it sounds evil. Wrong, somehow. Almost like a curse. And after the Arai, I've had enough of curses.
But I get the feeling that the more time I spend in the psycho world of demigods and monsters, the more curses will be coming for me.
Then, as if the universe is trying to prove me right, my foot lands on thin air, and I'm falling.
I'm falling, and then I'm sliding. Sliding down a ramp made of pure energy.
Muffin.
I slide down Muffin's purple energy ramp, making a not-so-soft landing in a pile of glass shards.
"Look out!" I yell up the wall of the cliff. "There's a bit of a drop-off!"
Muffin huffs and walks gracefully down the sorcery slide.
Show-off.
"The mist is gone," he notes, casually licking his paws as if walking down magic ramps is normal for him.
He's right, the mist is gone, but it doesn't make much of a difference. It's so dark that it really doesn't matter.
I stand up, brushing glass off my clothes and hands. For the most part, I've stopped bleeding, which is good, I guess. A few of the deeper ones are ringed with purple-pink splotches.
Infected. Great.
I remember the ambrosia and split a cube in half. One for Muffin, one for me.
Halloween pancakes.
The ambrosia seems to actually glow in my hands, so I eat it quickly. I get the feeling light isn't welcomed in this place.
Muffin eats his square just as fast, and he snarls.
"The air smells like fear," he says.
I realize it's cold. The rest of Tartarus is fiery, sweltering, but here it's like we're in a snow globe. Cold enough that my breath clouds in front of my face, making it even harder to see.
Somehow, the cold doesn't come as a relief. Something is horribly wrong with this place. Every molecule of my body is screaming "Get out of here!"
And yet, somehow, I know that Akhlys wasn't lying. We are close, very close, to Nyx and her mansion.
The woman in the black dress only serves to prove my point.
"Demigods and hellhounds," she sneers, her eyes the same color of Muffin's magic. "Now I've seen it all."
A low growl rises in Muffin's throat, not out of anger, but out of fear, coming to a perfect crescendo and then dying out completely.
"Nyx," I say. I can feel the power radiating off of her. Dark, angry, cold, ancient. She's either Nyx or she's a vampire.
And I'm pretty sure there are no vampires in Greek mythology. At least, not under that name.
"That's right, child. I am Nyx, greatest of the Protogenoi. I'm so powerful that even Zeus is afraid of me."
"Oh yes," I say, seeing the pride in her voice as an opening. I don't know what a Protogenoi is, and I'm not really sure I want to. "Everybody knows about you, Nyx. You're amazingly powerful. A real role model."
Muffin looks at me with poorly disguised confusion and I wink.
Follow my lead.
"Oh, Nyx the great and powerful, may I ask for a gift?"
"Well," Nyx says, scratching her chin like she's used to having a beard. "You are much more polite than the last demigods. But I'm not so sure about a gift..."
"I just need a vial of Pure Night," I say, fidgeting through my bag and holding up Rem's can. "Look, I even have the majestic vial." Well, majestic vial that doubles as a Campbell's soup can.
Nyx stares at me like I've grown a third arm, for a few long seconds.
Please, please, please, I think. Let this work.
As Nyx starts laughing, my heart sinks. Shit. She giggles like a toddler, laughing until thick black tears stream from her purple eyes.
"Oh my immortals," she says. "You have no idea what you're asking."
"Um," I say, trying to think of a witty comeback. I draw a blank, which only serves to make Nyx laugh harder. She's probably got a side stitch by now, unless goddesses don't get side stitches.
That would be cool. Side stitches are bitches.
"I think," Nyx says at last. "That I will grant your request. Just walk into the Mansion of Me and find the pool." She laughs more, but I suddenly feel relieved. It worked.
"Great," I say, unable to hide my surprise. Is it really this easy?
I start towards the palace, but Muffin latches onto my sleeve, pulling me back as Nyx, still chuckling, vanishes.
"Young Guardian," he says. "You don't understand. The Mansion of Night is a place of fear. Of nightmares come to life. Even titans avoid this place. Any mortal who sees the interior will go mad. Nyx wants to watch you writhe in fear."
"Oh," I say, my voice suddenly small.
"If you want to find the Pool of Darkness, you'll have to do it with your eyes closed."