they tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest.
[ jason grace x original character ]
[ book three in the daughter of artemis series ]
[ the house of hades ]
STATUS: COMPLETED
[ STARTED: july 13th, 2019 ]
[ FINISHED: october 5th, 2019 ]
...
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CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE [ P E R C Y ]
╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝
PERCY WASN'T DEAD yet, but he was already tired of being a corpse.
As they trudged toward the heart of Tartarus, he kept glancing down at his body, wondering how it could belong to him. His arms looked like bleached leather pulled over sticks. His skeletal legs seemed to dissolve into smoke with every step. He'd learned to move normally within the Death Mist, more or less, but the magical shroud still made him feel like he was wrapped in a coat of helium.
He worried that the Death Mist might cling to him forever, even if they somehow managed to survive Tartarus. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life looking like an extra from The Walking Dead.
Percy tried to focus on something else, but there was no safe direction to look.
Under his feet, the ground glistened a nauseating purple, pulsing with webs of veins. In the dim red light of the blood clouds, Death Mist Annabeth looked like a freshly risen zombie.
Ahead of them was the most depressing view of all.
Spread to the horizon was an army of monsters — flocks of winged Arai, tribes of lumbering Cyclopes, clusters of floating evil spirits. Thousands of baddies, maybe tens of thousands, all milling restlessly, pressing against one another, growling and fighting for space — like the locker area of an overcrowded school between classes, if all the students were 'roid-raging mutants who smelled really bad.
Bob led them toward the edge of the army. He made no effort to hide, not that it would have done any good. Being ten feet tall and glowing silver, Bob didn't do stealth very well.
About thirty yards from the nearest monsters, Bob turned to face Percy.
"Stay quiet and stay behind me," he advised. "They will not notice you."
"We hope," Percy muttered.
On the Titan's shoulder, Small Bob woke up from a nap. He purred seismically and arched his back, turning skeletal then back to calico. At least he didn't seem nervous.
Annabeth examined her own zombie hands. "Bob, if we're invisible . . . how can you see us? I mean, you're technically, you know . . ."
"Yes," Bob said. "But we are friends."
"Nyx and her children could see us," Annabeth said.
Bob shrugged. "That was in Nyx's realm. That is different."
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