craving |PERCY JACKSON| [book 1] UNDER EDITING

XXXV

THE FURIES CIRCLED the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Up close, Percy saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times- an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls-but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. He wondered if he was looking at prophecies that had come true.

Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden Percy had ever seen. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as his fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues- petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs-all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. "The garden of Persephone," Annabeth stated, "Keep walking."

Selena understood why she wanted to move on. The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. She had a sudden desire to eat them, but then she remembered the story of Persephone. One bite of Underworld food and they would never be able to leave. Selena reminded Percy and he pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy one.

They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. It made sense, there was no rain to worry about here.

Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered the children, but their hollow eye sockets followed us as they walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.

Two U. S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at them, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

"Well, guys," Percy said. "I suppose we should ... Knock?"

A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside. "I guess that means entrez-vous, " Annabeth said.

"Saying in French doesn't make it any better." Selena mumbled to her friend.

The room inside looked just like in Percy's dream, except this time the throne of Hades was occupied. He was the third God he had met, but the first who really struck him as Godlike.

He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power.  He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.