A/N: The chapter is rated PG-13 because the monster battles continue … (again, think HoH-level fighting).

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ANNABETH

Annabeth opened her eyes to find herself in Percy's arms.

For one second, her heart went spinning in giddy cartwheels. Then she remembered that they were deep in Tartarus, facing a horde of demon curse spirits.

Except the arai were gone. And although Annabeth's body ached as if she'd just run a marathon, scaled ten of Camp Half-Blood's lava walls, and wrestled a giant to boot, she was alive. Her shirt reeked of her own blood, reminding her of the curses she'd invoked. A knife in the back from the empousa. A spear through the gut from the giant Enceladus. Bruises blossomed where a sticky filament had wrapped itself around her neck—a gift from Arachne, no doubt.

It was a miracle she'd survived.

The others didn't look much better. Thalia's clothes were drenched in blood, the fabric pierced a thousand times over. Nico looked like he'd taken a tumble into a sooty fireplace. Will lay unconscious by his side, though his body bore no visible injury.

Percy was the only one who seemed unharmed. His jaw was set in a hard line. In his hand, he gripped Riptide so tightly, his knuckles were white.

Nico shook Will. 'What happened?' he demanded. 'Did he get cursed, too? What was it?'

Percy let go of Annabeth and took a step back. 'The demons couldn't hurt either of us. We got rid of them. And then he healed all of you.'

Nico swore and dug into Will's pack. 'Over-exertion, then. Exactly what he's always nagging me about.'

He dribbled bottled Phlegethon into Will's mouth. Will came to with a violent cough.

'You idiot!' Nico scolded. 'After all that crap you gave me about taking on too much, I swear—'

Will groaned and raised a hand to his head. 'What was I supposed to do, let you guys die?'

'How did you avoid getting cursed?' Thalia asked.

'They couldn't find curses for either of us,' Percy said. 'I guess Will never killed anybody.' His eyes narrowed. 'And they said I was already cursed. That you cursed me.'

Although he looked around all four of them as he said this, the you stabbed Annabeth like a dagger hurled unerringly into her chest. In a controlled, even tone that didn't quite mask an undercurrent of anger, Percy repeated the words that the arai had spoken to him.

Annabeth remembered then the last curse the arai had bestowed upon her: an invisible force that had flung her away from the group—away from Percy. Retribution from Hipponoe: may you never be loved again!

The arai had cackled most gleefully at that, probably because they'd realised there wasn't much they could add to that curse.

'You guys are gonna explain what they meant.' Percy pointed to Will with Riptide. 'And why you didn't deny it. You promised.'

'I did,' Will said weakly. He looked at Annabeth. 'You should tell him. All of it.'

Annabeth swallowed hard. Percy's eyes bore into her, harsh as a tempestuous ocean storm. Where did she begin? All of it, Will said, but what did that mean? Their entire history—the one Percy hadn't wanted to hear?

Or the part that was all her fault? Her hubris, her decision, her mistakes.

The part that might make Percy hate her.

You will never be loved again! No, she certainly didn't need the arai to deliver that curse.

'Well?' Percy said. 'Are you gonna to tell me who wiped my memory and why?'

Annabeth opened her mouth to begin. But before she could speak, a sly, sibilant voice emerged from the gloom.

'Oh, but why would she do that? Misunderstanding is so perfect for sowing discord!'

The speaker appeared from the edge of the forest. Her body, draped with a black toga, was so thin that Annabeth almost mistook her for one of the slender trees, spouting branches of hissing vipers from her head. Entwined in her snaky locks were scarlet ribbons, flowing from a blood-soaked headband that held her dishevelled bangs clear of her malicious crimson eyes.

'Lovely,' she said, surveying them with the cold, callous smile of a psychopath. 'You're already halfway there.'

Percy levelled Riptide at her. 'Get lost. This is between me and them.'

'Ah, but it has everything to do with me, too. Surely you don't mean to have a dispute without the goddess of strife?'

'You're Eris,' Annabeth breathed.

The goddess turned her malevolent gaze on Annabeth. In her gleaming eyes, Annabeth saw visions of brothers running each other through with swords, husbands throttling their wives…her own mother, Athena, reduced to petty arguments with her fellow Olympian goddesses.

'Yes, indeed. I have sparked the bloodiest wars in history! My children spread discord throughout the world. I am the mother of hardship, pain, lies…' She grew taller as she spoke, shooting up towards the canopy until she towered over them. 'Quarrels and disputes! Murders and anarchy! These are all my children! And so, my dear demigods, what bitterness can I sow among you today?'

'Forget it,' snapped Thalia. 'We're not interested in fighting. Unless it's fighting you.'

Eris touched her index finger to the tip of a poniard—a small, slim dagger—in her hand. 'Such complacence. Do not forget—it was I who created the golden apple that precipitated the Trojan War. I have broken up couples who boasted of loving each other more than Zeus and Hera!'

Thalia snorted. 'That's not saying much.'

'Will you put me to the test, then, daughter of Zeus?' Eris brought her poniard down as if to stab Thalia. Percy stepped forward and met the dagger with Riptide.

'Will you defend them, then, Perseus Jackson?' Eris hissed. 'The ones who lied to you, who are responsible for your current affliction—oh yes, I see clearly that you bear the curse of one of my daughters.'

She breathed out her words in a mist of red fog that wrapped itself around Percy. He lowered Riptide.

'Don't listen to her, Percy!' Nico drew his own sword. But instead of attacking, Eris stabbed her poniard into the ground. Fissures spread from its point, carving lines in the earth that ran between the five of them.

The red mist descended over Annabeth's head. Shadowy images swirled in it, resolving into a movie reel of every annoying thing her friends had ever done. Thalia smirked at her in front of a row of archery targets—'Get used to playing for second from now on!' Nico scowled and flung a pack of Mythomagic cards at her head, snapping, 'If you're so smart, why didn't you figure out how to save Bianca?' Will appeared in the doorway of cabin six, which she'd turned upside down in a frantic search, holding up her laptop with a sheepish grin. 'Connor made me take it…I lost a bet with him.'

Every urge she'd ever had to throttle them surged into her head, staining her vision a deeper, bloodier red. A snarl escaped her mouth, directed at Will, whose eyes reflected a slow burn back at her.

'This is almost too easy,' Eris said, her voice brimming with amusement. Thalia and Nico were already duelling sword to bow across the rift between them. Percy's murderous gaze vacillated between Will and Annabeth, as though he was undecided as to which of them he should attack first.

Eris didn't intend to kill them herself. No, she was much more enamoured of making them kill each other.

'Not much sport in provoking natural enemies, is there?' Eris mused. 'The daughter of Zeus and the son of Hades—bah, too easy.' She fixed her sadistic, glittering eyes on Annabeth and Percy. 'Ah yes, the biggest challenge. Coming between even the most dedicated of lovers.'

A cold chill trickled down Annabeth's spine. She wanted to draw her sword and run it through Eris, but she was afraid if she tried, she might end up attacking her friends instead. Or worse, Percy.

Eris's fog thickened around her with a vengeance. Its tendrils squeezed her chest like it was trying to wring hatred and anger from her heart. Eris's voice dripped poisonous honey in her ears: He decided you were worth forgetting. He chose an empousa over you. Doesn't that make you just livid?

The image of Percy wrapped around Bella in the alley in Phoenix flashed tauntingly at her. It blended into other wounds, old hurts that she thought she'd gotten over long ago: Percy laughing with Rachel as they drove down a winding beach road; Percy holding hands with the gorgeous Calypso on a paradise island.

Darker memories emerged and floated to the surface. She saw Percy facing Luke on the Williamsburg Bridge, cold green meeting malevolent gold. 'Can't you see he's evil, Annabeth? He's Kronos, through and through.' She saw a sinister shadow in Percy's face as he brought Riptide down in a murderous arc. Wild mania burned in his eyes as he raised a whirlwind of poison.

How dare he frighten you? How dare he turn into what he set out to fight?

There were many things that had made her so mad with him. Her blood boiled with every image Eris showed her, rage roaring through her veins and pounding in her ears. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling. Another memory surfaced—a time when she'd been royally pissed off at him, although she couldn't even recall why.

'I'm so mad at you!' she'd yelled.

'Okay,' he'd said, very seriously. 'I'm sorry.'

'Do you even know what you're apologising for?'

'Not really. But I love you. So I'm sorry I made you mad.'

The mist blew apart. Annabeth looked straight into Eris's amazed face.

Eris wanted her to focus on the anger, on the parts of Percy that had ignited her wrath, but a person wasn't just made of one part. You loved them whole—the good and the bad.

And with Percy, the things that infuriated her about him were often the same things she loved about him. It had been that way right from the beginning, when he had returned to her despite her explicit instructions to leave, in order to fight off three Furies closing in on her.

She saw Percy making her stop in the forum even though they were already late for class, because he just had to offer a denari to the fauns by the fountain.

Percy halting their run for a disoriented tourist on the street—'What's the harm, Annabeth, they just need directions,'—right before the werecat threw off its disguise and tried to sink fangs into his neck.

Percy charging headlong into a fight after she'd explicitly told him to stay back. 'This wasn't the plan, Percy!'

'Screw the plan, it's not like our plans ever work!'

Percy trying to send her to safety, even if that meant he had to stay behind in Tartarus.

How she hated the way he trusted people when he shouldn't, the way he never listened and always screwed up her plans, the way he was so infuriatingly loyal; but how she loved him for it. And what she would give to have that Percy back!

The cry that escaped her mouth was half-exasperation, half-laughter. The choking anger subsided. The mist was receding, being pushed further away from her. It was like a dam had burst, releasing a flood of memories—good ones, to overwhelm the bitterness and resentment with waves of love.

Strolling hand in hand down the Via Praetoria in perfect, contented silence. A kiss under the Eiffel Tower. Lazy Sunday mornings curled up in bed.

She drew deeper within herself, concentrating on every precious memory she had of love—not just for Percy, but her friends, too. Years ago, in the Temple of Fear, Piper had taught her to focus her thoughts around a single emotion. Annabeth did so now, calling upon her love for her friends—everything about them, good and bad. She pictured Thalia laughing and spinning her around at an old school dance in Brooklyn ('Who needs guys for a good dance?') Will holding her hand in the Plaza Hotel as he bandaged her shoulder ('You're gonna be fine, Annabeth. Percy's coming now.') Nico standing by Hestia's hearth, meeting her hand in a high five ('I'm happy for you guys.')

Like a golden ray of sunlight, her thoughts wound through Eris's discordant fog, beaming a path to her friends. When it touched them, the ugly expressions on their faces turned to surprise. Thalia and Nico dropped their battle and stared at each other, bewildered. Will fell to his knees, gasping as the red fog lifted from him. A silvery light reached out and twined with her golden one. Annabeth saw herself with Will, racing through the woods at Camp Half-Blood with a blue flag held aloft between them. They splashed across the creek and shared a grin as the flag turned grey and gold—a team victory.

And then Thalia and Nico joined the battle, too, adding more visions of their friendship. Annabeth watched herself drape a blanket over a younger Nico. She saw Thalia pull her into a tight hug and whisper in her ear, 'You'll always be family to me, Annabeth.'

Triumph surged through Annabeth's heart. They could fight this. Eris wasn't going to win.

Then she looked at the goddess of strife and her heart plummeted.

Eris had relinquished the four of them, but her attention was fully focused on Percy. Her long, clawed nails rested on Percy's shoulder as she whispered into his ear. The mist that they had forced away from themselves swirled exclusively around Percy—the only one of them who hadn't added to the collection of good memories.

Because he didn't have any.

Without his memories, what strength did Percy have to fight Eris's powers? What could he draw on to resist the strife she induced?

Percy let out a cry of inchoate rage. He raised Riptide high above his head and stabbed the sword down, plunging it straight into the rift Eris's poniard had already made in the ground. The cracks deepened, cutting a jagged line through the earth. It created a fissure that separated Thalia and Nico, who were nearest the cliff edge, from the rest.

And then the ground beneath them collapsed. For a brief moment, their feet scrambled for purchase, finding none. Will lunged forward to grab Nico's hand. Annabeth stumbled towards them, tripped, and landed flat on her stomach. Her arms reached uselessly into the empty air where her friends had been a second ago.

Her mind refused initially to register what had happened. Thalia, Nico, and Will couldn't have disappeared into that black chasm.

Except they had. Just like that, they were gone, leaving her with Eris and Percy.

Percy.

Annabeth rolled over onto her back. Percy stood over her, sword raised, his eyes glowing red and Eris's mist settling over him like a vengeful cloak. Annabeth stared up at him, frozen with horror. How could she fight? Even if she could bring herself to battle Percy, he was an incredibly powerful demigod. When he took full control of that power, it was as terrifying as it was wonderful. Annabeth remembered the times she had seen him like this: standing over her on the Williamsburg Bridge to face Kronos's army single-handedly, commanding a hurricane in the middle of Central Park against the onslaught of Hyperion, glowing as brightly as his father as they charged down Otis and Ephialtes in the Parthenon.

And the last time they had been in Tartarus—slaying Arachne, choking the goddess Akhlys with her own poison.

Only now, his wrath was directed at Annabeth.

'Percy, please—'

Behind him, Eris cackled with glee. 'Everything that befell you, it was her fault! She stole your memories and lied to you! Doesn't that make you so angry?'

'I'm so mad at you,' Percy intoned.

Annabeth swallowed. 'I'm sorry.'

'She doesn't mean it. She—'

'Sorry,' Percy repeated. 'Because you did lie to me? You did steal my memories?'

'Because I failed to protect you.' His image blurred through her tears. 'I'm sorry I failed you. I love you.'

For a moment, the red in his eyes seemed to flicker with its original green. But Percy kept his stance, Riptide hanging like a guillotine over her head.

'I'm sorry,' she said again. 'I never meant to hurt you.' And while she waited for the blade to fall, she told him, 'I love you, no matter what.'

She wanted that to be the last thing she ever said.

Annabeth closed her eyes. She felt the whoosh of Riptide swinging through the air.

The blow didn't come. Instead, Eris gave a blood-curdling screech.

Annabeth blinked.

Percy had run Eris through with his sword. His eyes were no longer red, but the bloody mist still clung to him. His face was set in the same fierce, hard expression. He stared at the ashy fragments of the goddess, breathing heavily.

'I don't know what's the truth,' he said to her remains, 'but I do know it's not what you're telling me.'

The pieces of Eris didn't reply. A faint breeze curled around them and swept what was left of her over the cliff. Her angry fog faded into the chasm. Annabeth crawled to the drop-off, where the darkness that had swallowed her friends reproached her.

They're gone. They're gone and you failed to save them. Just like you failed Percy.

'Thalia!' she screamed.

There was no answer, no indication that her voice even managed to travel into the chasm below. The darkness seemed to absorb all sound. Percy joined her in yelling their friends' names, but their voices sounded tinny and weak.

Percy swore. 'It's my fault. I—I killed them.'

Annabeth turned to him. His face was pale and gaunt, his eyes hollow with self-loathing. The sight of him taking the soul-crushing guilt upon himself ripped into her heart like an arai's curse.

'No,' she told him firmly. 'That was Eris. She twisted your mind—she played with all of our minds.'

He shook his head. 'I shouldn't have been persuaded. I should've known she was lying, just playing with me. You're all here because of me! And I…oh gods…'

She couldn't let Percy take this on himself. Especially when the real finger of blame should be pointing at her.

'Eris got to you because she was telling the truth, sort of. Your memories—the empousa getting her hands on you—it was our fault. My fault,' she admittted. 'So it's me you should be blaming. I'm the one that got you into this whole mess.'

Percy's eyes widened. 'What are you saying?'

Annabeth pushed herself to her feet. Her entire body was trembling so hard, even her teeth chattered. But she made herself speak.

She told him everything. From the attack by Hipponoe, who wanted revenge on her for killing Joe Bob, to her decision to use the Lethe, to the mistake she'd made with the nepenthe and his subsequent disappearance after they'd fed him the potion.

When she finished, Percy was silent for a long time, his mouth drawn in a hard line.

'You should've told me,' he said finally.

Annabeth looked down. 'We—I wanted to, but at first…you already hated me. You thought we were all lying to you. If you knew I was responsible for your memory loss, too…And then when everything started to get better, I wasn't sure if bringing it up would just hurt you more. I didn't want to make you stop trusting everyone again.'

'Maybe I would've appreciated the honesty.'

'I'm sorry.'

Percy nodded. His eyes softened. 'So am I. I guess I didn't really make it easy for you either. And for what it's worth, it kinda sounds like I might've gotten myself into all of this.'

'Percy, you took a curse meant for me.'

'That wasn't your fault.'

'It was my stupid pride—' She choked on a rising sob.

'It sounds like I chose to do it,' Percy said mildly. 'I guess I was—we were—well.' His mouth twisted wryly. She remembered the question he'd finally asked her the night before they left for Tartarus, the one she'd found herself unable to answer because he'd used the past tense, as if it were a piece of history that would never again be true. Were you my girlfriend?

Then he said, in a tone that filled her with hope, 'You must've been hurting so much all this time. I'm sorry. I wish I could remember. I—I don't like hurting you.'

Annabeth swallowed hard. 'It's okay. Maybe you'll still get your memories back down here. Even if we have to go to the edge of Chaos.'

'Even if we don't…' Percy looked at her hesitantly. 'Well, maybe we could start over. I wouldn't mind giving it a try. You and me.'

You and me. The glimmer of hope swelled in her chest.

'We have to save you first,' she reminded him. 'And the others. They have to be alive.' She refused to accept the alternative.

Percy looked dubiously over the cliff. 'I can sense water,' he said. 'Right at the bottom. Maybe Nico did that thing he did when we fell in here.'

'Shadow travel.'

'Can we climb down?'

Annabeth considered it. They'd made it down a cliff face in Tartarus before. It had been treacherous enough when they could see the handholds. Here in the Dark Lands, they would be feeling blindly for every crevice.

Before they could make a decision, something in Percy's pocket jerked. He pulled out the bronze compass. Its triangle pattern winked like a firefly in twilight, pointing north along the cliff's edge. It seemed to have acquired a life of its own, tugging Percy's hand in that direction.

Annabeth and Percy exchanged a look.

'I guess we follow,' Annabeth said.

Under the compass's insistent direction, they skirted the edge of the cliff. The terrain sloped gently downwards. After a while, Annabeth heard a gurgling below their feet, like a rush of water flowing through rock. She imagined a river cutting its way through an underground gorge, pouring out of a cavern beneath them. Maybe this path would eventually wind down to the bottom.

Please let the others be there.

The cliff face curved to the left. As soon as they followed it round, they seemed to pass out of the inky night into a foggy dawn. The sky was lighter and the air weighed less, no longer settling heavily on her shoulders as it had a moment ago.

Then Annabeth realised with a chill that this was because their bodies no longer had as much substance for the air to press down on. Percy looked like he had after drinking the nepenthe, smoky and insubstantial, like he was formed entirely of thick fog. Judging from the translucent quality of her own fingers, she probably didn't look much better.

Sprouting along their ghostly feet were patches of brightly-coloured flowers that were utterly incongruent with the dismal landscape. Something about this path was eerily familiar.

Ahead, the cliff jutted out like a peninsula over a churning black void. A lone figure stood on it, veiled in shadow. The one thing that stood out was a pinprick of golden-bronze light. Their bronze compass strained towards its round, bright point.

'It's her,' Annabeth said. 'The empousa.'

'What's that black stuff?' Percy asked, sounding simultaneously fascinated and repulsed. 'Where are we?'

Annabeth looked again at his smoky appearance, the way the contours of his body blended into the air like a shroud of nothingness had been flung over him.

The verge of final death, hissed the echo of a voice that haunted her nightmares. Here, you are closer to nothingness than any mortal has ever been.

She should have guessed that the compass would lead them here. If the empousa was after Percy's soul, she would come here, to the place where his memories had washed out.

'The edge of Chaos,' she whispered.

Percy's eyes widened until he looked more ghostly than ever, a pair of green eyes staring out of the gloom.

'Come on,' Annabeth said.

She felt the pull of Chaos before they got there. The air was impossibly thin, as if its molecules had been sucked away into a hungry vacuum. Annabeth's lungs felt like they had been ironed out onto a two-dimensional board. Weightless as her limbs were, moving was a challenge. She had to glide rather than step forward on her legs.

At least the wishbone charm on her bracelet still felt solid. She hoped it meant she'd still be able to wield her sword. They'd be disadvantaged enough facing the empousa here without losing the use of their weapons.

The empousa didn't seem to notice their approach. She was focused on the black hole before her. In her hands was a compass like Percy's. The light they had seen was shining from it, a weak beam travelling into Chaos.

Or so Annabeth thought, until she realised that the light was actually travelling in the opposite direction. The empousa was drawing a misty substance out of the void.

Next to her, Percy stumbled. He clapped one hand to his back—the same spot that had pained him before Annabeth had given him the bronze compass.

'Percy!' She grabbed his shoulder, thankful to find his physical form still holding despite his ghostly appearance.

'I'm—fine—' he gritted out. 'It's her—'

The empousa turned. Unlike Annabeth and Percy, she looked perfectly solid, untouched by the veil of nothingness that clung to them. The glow of her compass set off her hair such that it burned like a flaming torch in the night.

Her red eyes gleamed when they landed on Percy. She started to laugh.

'This couldn't have worked out better if I'd planned it myself!' She crooked one manicured claw at Percy. 'Hello, gorgeous,' she said to him. 'You're right on time. And now, you are going to make me immortal.'

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A/N: Dum-dum-DUM. Sorry, I know I'm probably driving everyone crazy with the cliffies ... Just a note that the NEXT chapter will involve non-explicit references to adult material. For those of you worried about it, check the warning at the top of the chapter, and if it isn't for you, check out my author's page where I will post a PG-13 (or lower) version of the chapter as a separate fic (look for 'Curse of Lethe, alternate chapters').

The goddess Eris has a cameo in HoH, but I decided to flesh her out more. She was loads of fun to write! And the scene is illustrated by preciouschildrenofolympus, here (remove the spaces): preciouschildrenofolympus . tumblr (add dot com here) / post / 164328099105 / this-is-the-second-half-of-my-big-bang