Chapter 10.

Oh that hurt. Just got out of my second day in court. I got sued out of my home for that antic I pulled in the last chapter. Let me tell you, those seats are uncomfortable. Remember kids, identity theft is good for you.

Location: Tartarus

Hazel POV

Breaking her rib had been terrible. Pulling Frank down with her had been even worse. But now she could see him, suffering from gorgons blood poison and unable to do anything about it was even worse. Percy and Bob had fought off the arai, but a few had snuck past them, and Frank had fought them. He had taken half a dozen curses, including constant tickling, an eye tick, and the gorgon blood. That last one must have been the work of the seer in Portland. Frank had gambled with him and won, curing himself of his cursed stick. But now, it was coming back to haunt him. Bob had Frank slung like a bag of sports equipment over his shoulder while the skeleton kitten Small Bon was curled up on Franks back. Bob lumbered along at a quick pace even with holding Frank, and she wondered how Percy was keeping up while carrying her. Her lungs rattled, and her skin started to blister. She probably needed another drink over the firewater, but they had left the phelgathon behind a while back. She was so sore and battered she had forgotten what it was like to not be in pain.

"How much longer?" Hazel wheezed out.

"Almost too long." Bob called back. "But maybe not."

Very helpful. Hazel thought, though she was too tired to say it.

The landscape changed again. Now, they were traveling downhil, which should have made everything easier, but the ground was the wrong angle-too steep to jog, too treacherous to let their guard down for even a moment. The ground was sometimes loose gravel, sometimes patches of slime. Percy had to step around random bristles that were sharp enough to completely impale his foot, and clusters of... Well, not rocks exactly. More like warts the size of watermelons. If she had to guess(and she didn't want to) keeping with the body analogy, she figured they were going down Tartarus' large intestine. The air got heavier and stank of sewage. The darkness maybe got less intense, but she could only see Bob because of his silver hair and the point on his broom. She noticed he hadn't retracted the point since their fight with the arai, which didn't exactly reassure her. She thought about Franks daydream of New Rome-the two of them settling down, going to college together. If only they would survive this. If only Reyna got her message. If only a million other long shots paid off.

Stop it, she chided herself. She had to concentrate on not moving so Percy wouldn't lose his balence. They continued downward, putting one foot in front of the other, taking this downhill intestinal hike one wary at a time. Her knees felt warm and wobbly, like wire hangers bent to the point of breaking. Frank groaned and muttered something she couldn't make out.

Bob suddenly stopped. "Look."

Ahead of them the terrain leveled into a black swamp. Sulphur yellow most hung in the air. Even without sunlight, there were actual plants. Clumps of reeds, scrawny little trees, even a few sickly looking flowers blooming in the muck. Mossy trails wound between bubbling tar pits. Directly in front of Percy were deep tracks the size of trash can lids, with long pointed toes. Sadly, Hazel thought she knew what they were. "Drakon?"

Bob and Percy beamed at her. "Yes! That is good!"

"Uh... Why?" From what she remembered from her classes drakons were bad news.

"Because we are close." And with that Bob marched into the swamp.

Hazel wanted to scream. She hates being at the mercy of a Titan. Especially one that was recovering his memory and was taking them to see a "good" giant. She hated foraging through a swamp that was clearly the territory of a drakon. At least the terrain forced Bob and Percy to go slower so she could examine Frank, who was muttering deliriously, his forehead hot. Several times he mumbled Hazel, and she had to fight back a sob. Finally the sickly colored mist cleared, revealing a muddy clearing like an island in the muck. The ground was dotted with stunted trees and wart moods. In the middle loomed a large, domed hut made of bones and greenish leather. Scented smoke rose from a hole in the top. The entrance was covered with scaly reptile skin. Two torches made of colossal femer bones burned a bright yellow, flanking the entrance.

What really caught her attention was the skull. Fifty yard into the clearing, about halfway to the hut, a massive oak tree jutted from the ground at a forty-five degree angle. The jaws of a drakon skull encircled the entire trunk. "Yes." Bob murmured. "This is good."

None of this felt good to Hazel. Before she could protest, Small Bob arched his back and hissed. Behind them, a roar echoed through the swamp- a roar she had only ever heard recordings of. She turned her head and saw a drakon charging at them.

...

...

...

...

(thought about ending it there, but decided to continue)

The drakon was easily the most beiutiful thing Hazel had seen in Tartarus. It's hide was a dappled green and yellow, like sunlight through a forest canopy. It's eyes were a gorgeous sea-green just like Percy's. When it's frills unfurled around its head, she couldn't help but think what a beautiful monster was about to kill them. It was easily as long as a subway train. It's massive claws dug into the ground as it pulled itself forward. The drakon hissed, sending spurts of green poison around the clearing, smoking against the ground, and set tar pits on fire, filling the clearing with the smell of fresh pine and ginger. The monster even smelled good. She tried to keep her voice from quivering. "Percy? What are we facing here?"

"Maeonian Drakon." Percy and Bob said at the same time. "From Maeonia."

More helpful information. Hazel would've smacked them both upside the head if she had the strength. "Any way we can kill it?"

"Us?" Bob asked. "No." Then we heard a booming voice from behind us. "Stop! They are friends. Go back to guard duty." The creature hissed and turned away. We turned around as a twenty foot tall giant strode towards us. He had a humanoid upper body and scaly dragon legs. Instead of armour, he wore a shirt stitched together from sheepskin. His skin was cherry red, and his hair and beard were the color of rust. "Sorry about that, he is a little over protective." He examined us. "Bob, Percy. Who are these other two?" Percy decided to be the one to answer.

"That" he said, pointing at my boyfriend. "Is Frank and this is Hazel. Frank got hit by a gorgon's blood curse from the Arai. Can you help?"

"Of course!" The giant boomed, turning around. "Come in, come in! Anything to help a friend in this infernal place." He stood and listened for a moment, before his face darkened. "We have to hurry. You have giants hunting you. They will be here by morning. Come." And with that he walked away, beckoning for us to follow him.