NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

eighty eight: the wonderland.

FALLING.

That's basically the only thing that's going on in Brooklyn's brain as she's falling into Tartarus with her boyfriend and her bestie. Head empty, no thoughts, okay?

She'd lost track of how long she, Annabeth, and Percy had been falling — hours? A day? It felt like an eternity. They'd been holding hands ever since they dropped into the chasm. Now Percy pulled Brooklyn close, hugging her tight with one arm as they tumbled through absolute darkness.

Wind whistled in Brooklyn's ears. The air grew hotter and damper, as if they were plummeting into the throat of a massive dragon. She felt like she was Alice, falling into a Wonderland that wasn't really a wonderland. Did that make sense? God, she's already losing it. But wasn't she already?

She leaned into Percy's embrace, cursing every single thing that had brought her to this point internally. She'd never expected her life to be easy. Her mother had warned her about this since a young age. She'd said to rise above the troubles of her demigod life, or whatever cheesy shit she sprouted whenever she felt like reprimanding Brooklyn, which was all of the time.

Well, mother, can I rise above this trouble if I'm falling into Wonderland? Brooklyn thought bitterly.

She felt Percy press his lips to her ear, and he said something in it, but she couldn't make out the words. She frowned, but he didn't say it again. Weirdo. Was he asking her for a way out of this, or something?

For the millionth time in her life, she wished that she could fly like Jason. Stupid Hayward power, canceling out that ability. Could Brooklyn just not be a Hayward? It would solve many problems in her life.

Then, something about their surroundings changed. The darkness took on a gray-red tinge. She realized she could see Percy's hair and Annabeth's arm where they were holding hands. The whistling in Brooklyn's ears turned into more of a roar. The air became intolerably hot, permeated with a smell like rotten eggs. Which, gross.

Suddenly, the chute they'd been falling through opened into a vast cavern. Maybe half a mile below them, Brooklyn could see the bottom. For a moment she was too stunned to think properly. The entire island of Manhattan could have fit inside this cavern — and she couldn't even see its full extent. Red clouds hung in the air like vaporized blood. The landscape — at least what she could see of it — was rocky black plains, punctuated by jagged mountains and fiery chasms. To Brooklyn's right, the ground dropped off in a series of cliffs, like colossal steps leading deeper into the abyss.

She felt a tug on her arm, and she looked over at Annabeth, pulling her closer to them.

"Percy!" Brooklyn faintly heard Annabeth yell. "Water!"

She gestured frantically after releasing her grip from Percy. His face was hard to read in the dim red light. He looked shell-shocked and terrified, but he nodded as if he understood.

Percy could control water — assuming that was water below them. He might be able to cushion their fall somehow. Of course Brooklyn had heard horrible stories about the rivers of the Underworld. They could take away your memories, or burn your body and soul to ashes. But she decided not to think about that. She was probably going to die anyway in Wonderland.

The river hurtled toward them. At the last second, Percy yelled defiantly. The water erupted in a massive geyser and swallowed them whole.

* * *

The impact didn't kill her, but the cold nearly did. And Brooklyn Hayward never got cold.

Freezing water shocked the air right out of her lungs. Her limbs turned rigid, and she lost her grip on Percy and Annabeth. Brooklyn began to sink. Strange wailing sounds filled her ears — millions of heartbroken voices, as if the river were made of distilled sadness. The voices were worse than the cold. They weighed her down and made her numb.