TERRIFIED . . . annabeth chase

fifty two.

EVERYTHING WAS BLURRY.

Val was on Bob's shoulder, she thought. But from this high up, the only thing that she can imagine is falling, falling to her death — and she screams. It's gotten to the point where she's had to bite on the fabric below her. Her jaw ached, but some part of her still sensed that there were monsters everywhere.

But the world was still blurry below her, if visible at all. She could feel a lot of things, but she didn't know what they were. Pain clouded everything. No place in her body was spared from pain. It was as if every cell in her body was on fire, then frozen, then back again.

Her vision and mind swam in and out. Val saw rainbows at one point, in a world of red and green — fitting, considering she was somewhere on the spectrum, she labeled herself as 'Annabethsexual' and called it a day — and she saw a cafe with the scent of coffee and dogs.

And then she heard a roar, effectively breaking that fantasy of hers and immediately shadow traveling.

"What the heck . . ." Val whispered, sitting up, then yelped as something moved on her. It was Small Bob. Her body relaxed as she pet the cat, but she frowned. How did she have the power to shadow travel?

And where the heck was she?

"Tina?" There was a giant bed, and Annabeth was looking over it for her. Val met her gaze and sent her a small, reassuring smile, looking down and still petting the skeleton cat. Gods, she loved animals.

"How much do you remember?" Annabeth asked.

"I killed a lot of things," Val said, frowning in concentration. "And I was falling. There were rainbows. Or was that just me?"

Then, Val saw a giant looming over the bed and nearly screamed. "There is no time, little mortals. The drakon is returning. I fear its roar will draw the others — my brethren, hunting you. They will be here within minutes."

Annabeth acted as if this was normal. "What will you tell them when they get here?"

The giant's mouth twitched. "What is there to tell? Nothing of significance, as long as you are gone."

He tossed Percy, who was sitting on the bed, and Annabeth two leather satchels, then offered one to Val. "Clothes, food, drink."

Bob was wearing a similar but larger pack. He leaned on his broom, gazing at Annabeth.

"The Prophecy of Eight," Annabeth said.

Percy had already climbed out of the bed and was shouldering his pack, helping Val up. He frowned at Annabeth. "What about it?"

Annabeth grabbed the giant's hand, startling him. His brow furrowed.

"You have to come with us," she pleaded. "The prophecy says foes bear arms to the Doors of Death. I thought it meant Romans and Greeks, but that's not it. The line means us — demigods, a Titan, a giant. We need you to close the Doors!"

Something — a drakon? — roared outside, closer this time. The giant gently pulled his hand away.

"No, child," he murmured. "My curse is here. I cannot escape it."

"Yes, you can," Annabeth said. "Don't fight the drakon. Figure out a way to break the cycle! Find another fate."

The giant shook his head. "Even if I could, I cannot leave this swamp. It is the only destination I can picture."

Annabeth's mind raced. "There is another destination. Look at me! Remember my face. When you're ready, come find me. We'll take you to the mortal world with us. You can see the sunlight and stars."