NEVER BE THE SAME . . . percy jackson

ninety: the walk.

THEY'D ONLY TRAVELED a few hundred yards when Annabeth had to shove Brooklyn into silence.

Brooklyn plodded along, half in a stupor, trying to stay sane. 'Course, it was hard to do that with her stomach growling and her throat baking. The fiery water of the Phlegethon may have healed her and given her strength, but it didn't do anything for her hunger or thirst. The river wasn't about making you feel good, Brooklyn guessed. It just kept you going so you could experience more excruciating pain. And if there was anything she absolutely loved, it was excruciating pain.

Her head started to droop with exhaustion. Then Annabeth whispered harshly, "Brooks, Percy, down!"

She pulled them behind the nearest boulder, Brooklyn wedging herself so close against the riverbank that her shoes almost touched the river's fire. On the other side, in the narrow path between the river and the cliffs, voices snarled, getting louder as they approached from upstream.

Brooklyn tried to stay still, but the top of her head was itchy, so she itched at the spot on her head discreetly. The voices sounded vaguely human, but that meant nothing. She assumed anything in Tartarus was their enemy. She didn't know how the monsters could have failed to spot them already. Besides, monsters could smell demigods — especially powerful ones like her, because she's obviously the greatest of all time. She doubted that hiding behind a boulder would do any good when the monsters caught their scent.

Still, as the monsters got nearer, their voices didn't change in tone. Their uneven footsteps — scrap, clump, scrap, clump — didn't get any faster.

"Soon?" one of them asked in a raspy voice, as if she'd been gargling in the Phlegethon.

"Oh my gods!" said another voice. This one sounded much younger and much more human, like a teenaged mortal girl getting exasperated with her friends at the mall. "You guys are totally annoying! I told you, it's like three days from here."

There was a chorus of growling and grumbling. The creatures — maybe half a dozen of them — had paused just on the other side of the boulder, but still they gave no indication that they'd caught the demigods' scent. Brooklyn wondered if demigods didn't smell the same in Tartarus, or if the other scents here were so powerful, they masked a demigod's aura.

"I wonder," said a third voice, gravelly and ancient like the first, "if perhaps you do not know the way, young one."

"Oh, shut your fang hole, Serephone," said the mall girl. "When's the last time you escaped to the mortal world? I was there a couple of years ago. I know the way! Besides, I understand what we're facing up there. You don't have a clue!"

"The Earth Mother did not make you boss!" shrieked a fourth voice.

More hissing, scuffling, and feral moans — like spoiled popular girls ( obvi not Brooklyn, though, she's just better ) fighting. At last the one called Serephone yelled, "Enough!"

The scuffling died down.

"We will follow for now," Serephone said. "But if you do not lead us well, if we find you have lied about the summons of Gaea—"

"I don't lie!" snapped the mall girl. "Believe me, I've got good reason to get into this battle. I have some enemies to devour, and you'll feast on the blood of heroes. Just leave one special morsel for me — the one named Percy Jackson."

Of course she wanted revenge on Percy. Everyone wanted revenge on Percy.

"Believe me," said the mall girl. "Gaea has called us, and we're going to have so much fun. Before this war is over, mortals and demigods will tremble at the sound of my name — Kelli!"