Author's Note: Been a while.
Disclaimer: I don't own Percy Jackson. All my fanfic writings are non-profit. 'Tis all for fun.
Piece of Darkness II - Gambit
Epilogue
I lay there, stunned. My sword had careered out of my hand at some point, and a spectre loomed over me, but I was too exhausted to fight. It reached down slowly, and wrapped freezing fingers around my neck.
Somehow, the shock of imminent strangulation gave me a last wheeze of strength. I kicked out desperately, trying to force the ghost away, but I was too weak. Gagging, I patted the ground around me, searching for my sword or Kevin's sword or something. Anything.
My fingers fell on a smooth, round stone.
Olivia's magic stone.
Acting without even thinking, I grabbed the stone and brandished wildly it in the direction of the spirits, summoning up every iota of will I had left. I barely even knew what I was doing, but somehow I dredged up all the energy in my being and with it, I willed the stone to unleash its power. I didn't just try - I believed that it would work for me.
Olivia's magic rock lit up, its runes glistening into glorious life. I kept concentrating, kept pushing, and somehow, by a miracle or something else, a beam of green light arced out of the stone and vaporised the spectre trying to strangle me.
The rest of them lurched backwards in a moment of surprise, and I managed to sit up, waving the stone wildly all the time. Three more were vaporised in the blink of an eye, then another. Only three remained, and the runes on the stone began to fade as my concentration ebbed away, but I plunged my free hand into a pocket and withdrew my piece of labradorite. I squeezed it tightly, and its stored sense of calm and stability surged into me. That piece of stone gave me the last bit of energy I needed, and the runes on Olivia's rock lit up again. Green power vaporised two more spectres.
Finally, there was only one left, standing a few feet away. It lunged at me, and I cast out a final pulse of power. It cut through the ghost's legs, sending it crashing to the floor next to me. My strength gave out, and the stone dropped from my hand, the runes already fading.
My vision began to darken, but I forced myself to stay conscious for a moment more. I looked at the last spectre, making sure it was down. I hadn't hit its centre, where its power core was, so the thing was taking longer to evaporate. Its upper body was still whole, and it had raised its head to stare at me.
As I watched, a face began to form on the spectre's head. It was a terrible, old, gnarled face, neither man nor woman, more like a twisted, primal religious carving than anything that could be construed as human. It opened its mouth, and spoke in a voice I often hear in my nightmares.
"All this is nothing but a warning," hissed Tartarus, speaking through the spectre even as it faded into nothing. "These ghosts were merely the message. This will happen once more, with far worse consequences, if you do not meet my demand."
"What— what demand?" I managed to choke out.
The crooked face of Tartarus himself glared at me even as it evaporated.
"Surrender the Ritual of the Pit to me, by the winter solstice," it hissed, its voice darker than the midnight of death. "Surrender it, or watch this city suffer the consequences."
The spectre dissipated into tiny fragments of mist and memory, and, at long last, unconsciousness claimed me.
TO BE CONTINUED
IN
PIECE OF DARKNESS III - MIDDLEGAME
September 5th, 2014