DON'T BLAME ME! (p. jackson) (#2) (ON HOLD)

- nineteen

SO FAR, THEIR DEATH MIST camouflage plan seemed to be working. so, naturally, rose expected a massive last-minute fail.

fifty feet from the doors of death, she and percy froze.

"oh, god," rose murmured. "they're the same."

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, rose felt so homesick, she couldn't breathe. she didn't just miss mount olympus. she missed everything she'd left behind: new york city, camp half-blood, her friends, her siblings. she even missed her dad, although she knew she would never get him back. they hadn't talked in months. her eyes stung. she didn't trust herself to talk.

the doors seemed like a personal insult, designed to remind her of everything she couldn't have.

as she got over her 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 rose 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.

rose 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.

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," rose whispered.

percy looked over at the blazing form of hyperion. the last time he'd fought the titan, it had taken every ounce of his strength. percy had almost died. now there were two titans, with several thousand monsters for backup.

"our camouflage," he 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," rose said. "percy 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."

percy 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."

rose 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, percy, or rose 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," rose said, though she had a bitter taste in her mouth.

"what do you mean the journey won't finish?" rose asked. "what happens to the passengers?"

bob didn't answer. judging from his pained expression, rose 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," percy 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 gaea cannot use them."

"thanatos can reclaim them," rose said. "death goes back to normal, and the monsters lose their shortcut to the mortal world."

percy exhaled. "easy-peasy. except for... well, everything."

small bob purred.

"i will push the button," bob volunteered.

a mix of feelings churned in rose'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."

rose gazed at the endless horde of monsters. even if he let bob make this sacrifice, how could one titan defend himself against so many for twelve minutes, all while keeping his finger on a button?

the cement settled in rose's stomach. she already knew what percy was planning. it was written on his face.

"percy...?" rose stared at him, a suspicious edge to her voice.

"first things first," he said. "let's cut those chains."