ɪ'ʟʟ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴇꜱᴄᴀᴘᴇ ✯

A Thousand Curses

PERCY WAS RELIEVED when the batty grandmas closed in to kill.

He was definitely terrified. He didn't like the odds of two against several dozen, even if one of them was a titan. But at least he understood fighting. Wandering through the darkness, waiting to be attacked—that had been driving him crazy.

"Back off." Percy jabbed his bone at the nearest shriveled hag, but she only sneered.

We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us. We are the spirits of the curses.

"Bob doesn't like curses," Bob decided. Percy definitely agreed with that statement.

The Titan swept his broom in a huge arc, forcing the demons to stumble back, but they came in again like a riptide.

We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you.

Percy almost threw up his fire water, not that it would be much of a loss. He wished that Tartarus had some better beverage options, like blue coke.

"I appreciate the offer," he said. "But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like sharp, deadly, switchblades made of bone. Percy sliced her in two, but as soon as she vaporized, the sides of his chest flared with pain.

He stumbled back, clamping his hand to his rib cage. His fingers came away wet and red.

He glanced down, seeing a small round wound. He looked over, and the other side of him was also sticky like blood, as if a javelin had run him through.

Or an arrow...

Queasiness almost knocked him over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.

He flashed back to an encounter in Texas two years ago—a fight with a monstrous rancher who could only be killed if each of his three bodies was cut through simultaneously.

"Geryon," Percy said. "This is how I killed him...."

The spirits flashed their sharp fangs. More leaped from the black trees, flapping their bat-like wings.

Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been leveled at you, Percy Jackson. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!

He almost toppled over with pain and exhaustion, but managed to stay on his feet from pure willpower and adrenaline.

"I don't understand," he muttered.

"If you kill one, it gives you a curse." Bob said, looking down.

But if he didn't kill the arai... they would kill Bob and him anyways.

Choose! the arai cried. Will you be crushed like Kampê? Or disintegrated like the young telkhines you slaughtered under Mount St. Helens? You have spread so much death and suffering, Percy Jackson. Let us repay you!

The winged hags pressed in, their breath like old milk, their eyes burning with hate. They looked like Furies, but Percy decided they were even worse than Mrs. Dodds and his sisters. He could at least kill the furies, and Hades controlled them. Mostly.

If they really embodied the dying curses of every enemy Percy had ever destroyed...then Percy was in serious trouble. He'd faced a lot of enemies.

Just as about a dozen arai lunged towards him from left and right, claws extended, Bob yelled, "SWEEP!"

His broom whooshed over Percy's head. The entire arai offensive line toppled backward like bowling pins.

More surged forward. Bob whacked one over the head and speared another, blasting them to dust. The others backed away.

Percy held his breath, waiting for his Titan friend to be laid low with some terrible curse, but Bob seemed fine—a massive silvery bodyguard keeping death at bay with the world's most terrifying cleaning implement.

"Bob, you okay?" Percy asked. "No curses?"

"No curses for Bob!" Bob agreed.

The arai snarled and circled, eying the broom. The Titan is already cursed. Why should we torture him further? You, Percy Jackson, have already destroyed his memory.

Bob's spearhead dipped.

"Bob, no! I- I didn't mean to! I had no choice! It was-"

Percy stopped. He didn't know what to say. He could defend himself. It was his fault.

Bob turned, pain and hate in his deep eyes. "My memory... It was you?"

Curse him, Titan! the arai urged, their red eyes gleaming. Add to our numbers!

Percy's heart beat in his ribcage as if it wanted to jump out. "Bob, it's a long story. I didn't want you to be my enemy. I tried to make you a friend."

By stealing your life, the arai said. Leaving you in the palace of Hades to scrub floors!

If Bob wouldn't protect him, his only chance was to run —but that wasn't any chance at all. The demons would catch up, or he'd fall off a cliff or reach a dead end.

"Bob, listen," he tried again, "the arai want you to get angry. They spawn from bitter thoughts. Don't give them what they want. We are your friends."

Even as he said it, Percy knew he was a liar. He'd left Bob in the Underworld and hadn't given him a thought since. What made them friends? The fact that Percy needed him now?

Percy always hated it when the gods used him for their errands. Now Percy was treating Bob the same way.

You see his face? the arai growled. The boy cannot even convince himself. Did he visit you, after he stole your memory?

"No," Bob murmured. His lower lip quivered. "The other one did."

Percy's thoughts moved slowly, like broken gears. "The other one?"

"Nico." Bob scowled at him, his eyes full of hurt. "Nico visited. Told me about Percy. Said Percy was good. Said he was a friend. That is why Bob helped."

"But..." Percy's voice disintegrated like someone had hit it with a Celestial bronze blade. He'd never felt so low and dishonorable, so unworthy of having a friend.

The arai attacked, and this time Bob did not stop them.

He ran desperately to the left, slashing through the arai. He felt pain flare up, too much at the same time to identify the source.

Dashing through the labyrinth of twisted trees, Percy ducked.

He heard the arai above him, fluttering. Scuttles and scratches on the ground brought his attention to the ones approaching from behind.

As he ran past one of the black trees, he slashed his sword across the trunk. He heard it topple, followed by the satisfying crunch of several dozen arai as they were smashed flat.

If a tree falls in the forest and crushes a demon, does the tree get cursed?

Percy slashed down another trunk, then another. It bought him a few seconds, but not enough.

He rushed around another round tree, ducking under a demon with outstretched talons. He stumbled over a rock, almost tripping as another slashed a long wound down his arm.

Just in time, he noticed the darkness get deeper. Right before he fell, Percy lunged forwards. He backed away from the chasm, panting heavily.

He looked around, unable to locate the demons other than a few scuttling and flapping sounds in the darkness.

He felt the air, his consciousness touching each tree, feeling every turn.

Too late, he found the thick sticky liquid off the aria's blood. They closed in around him in a crescent formation.

He had nowhere to run. He could jump, but it seemed deep. There was almost no chance of survival.

He yelled in fury and attacked them all.

~🌊