Chapter Eighteen: Tell Me

Zoё's POV

Screaming.

Screaming and yelling.

The sounds blared in her ears until they were raw and ringing with those voices, by now long gone. She thought they were purely figments of her imagination, but she recognized the screams' owners far well than she wanted. They were of her family, Artemis and Aion, who were separated from her. Again.

Where were they taken? Each person was dragged away into the same corridor but split up into different hallways from there. Zoё was surrounded by wind spirits, only them and a piercing silence for company. She hated it.

She cupped a hand over one ear, hoping that would help fade out the hellish screams. The spirits around her brought out assorted weapons, primarily swords of different lengths. Ridiculous, Zoё thought as more gathered from thin air. Where were they when she was with Aion? Zoё eyed the sword closest to her, a three-foot silver blade that caught the light just right. Although she preferred the bow, a sword would suffice... A sudden prod in the back made her rethink the notion. But she didn't care.

Another hit made her double over, just two in all. Zoё knew what they were doing; giving her one chance to surrender. She silently thanked Lord Chaos for forcing her to read about those of the Sky. He had said this would help her in the long run, but she didn't believe him... Not until now. She could take them, though. This was nothing compared to the hell's amount of opponents she had trained against at Headquarters. Simply nothing.

Zoё removed her hand from her ear and placed it at her side, analyzing their next move. One by one, each visibly reposed, their circle giving out against her. Three stood at her sides, though, each grabbing an arm, another her shoulders, as if she couldn't be restrained, as if she was a wild animal. Zoё growled with distaste. The feeling was foreign- threatening.

She continued walking to where ever they were taking her, ripping their hold on her arms in the process. "You don't touch me," she muttered. They could take her where they wanted, but they weren't going to be touching her. She refused it.

The spirits at her sides made sounds equal to a group of tormented, half-dead falcons. Zoё almost winced, but she held her composure. Keep it together, for now. Just now. Just for now.

She steeled her jaw and looked at the leader head on, giving it her best stare she could muster. She didn't dare let one muscle twitch, staying statue still. It wasn't even ten seconds and the spirit began to shift uncomfortably. She narrowed her eyes at the horrid creature, only adding greatly to its discomfort. She yanked her shoulders from its icy hold.

I'm not one of the Ten for no reason," she hissed, turning away from it. "The least you could do is show a tiny bit of courtesy, maybe."

The wind spirit was flabbergasted. Its friends let go of her immediately. Zoё didn't expect her words to have that effect on them, but if they were persuaded this easily, Zoё needed just one more thing.

She studied the one with the silver sword again. Swiftly. Gracefully she snatched the weapon and let its owner fall through the ground with a hit to the head. Time was vital, she reminded herself. She used each second to the fullest. Sidestepping a jab to her hips, Zoё sent another flying. She repeated the technique until one was left, their leader. Their disgusting leader.

Zoё frowned. She brandished her unbalanced sword. "Before you die," she said, studying the blade, "tell me of Aion. Of Artemis."

The spirit made a guttural noise from the back of its throat and lunged at Zoё. She couldn't react. She was sent to the tiled ground, her sword clattering out of her hands. No, no, no, no, no. Please, to Chaos, no.

Zoё scrambled for her weapon just as the spirit did. Her hand fumbled for the olden, leathered grip, finding only the blade as the creature grabbed the hilt. It was a tug of war. Zoё pulled with all her might, but the spirit mirrored her strength- a stalemate. Her fingers soon ached as they struggled for a hold. It wasn't long before she noticed they were bleeding. The blade was coated with her blood. She knew she would lose; the wind spirit had the upper hand.

But she wouldn't give up. Not without a good fight. The spirit jerked the sword from her grasp and Zoё instantly lost it. The spirit lashed numerous cuts across her cheeks, driving her down. The creature kept at it. Zoё put her hands up to shield her face. Hot pain flared and more crimson dribbled to the floor. She didn't scream; she didn't dare look at her injuries- it made her almost sick just thinking about it.

The sword now rested at her neck. If she so much as swallowed, she would release blood. Zoё looked into the spirit's eyes and a small understanding passed between them as Zoё nodded slightly. Yes, I surrender.

Blade was removed from her neck and she took her millisecond chance. She swept the spirit's feet from him, seizing the sword from its weakened hold. She pinned the creature down and sliced halfway through its neck. "My family," she told it, an edge to her voice. "Where did you take them?"

It made a weak noise.

"Choose your answer very wisely." She growled.

The spirit's dazed eyes flickered to something on the left. It made quiet little murmurs. Zoё glanced over where the spirit had looked. She would have cried with relief, but not in front of the witness. He didn't need to know one of her weaknesses. "Thank you." She said softly.

To end its misery, Zoё completely severed its head from the rest of its body. The final screams of merciless torture died slowly from the spirit. Zoё let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and another, kicking the head away as she turned away from the gruesome scene. She killed him; she really decapitated him.

The deal hadn't been sealed, she reminded herself. The wind spirit should have known.

Zoё examined her mangled hands. She hadn't realized in how much pain she was in. She carefully removed the sword from her grip, her sticky blood acting as a superglue. The motion made her almost scream. She felt as if the whole first layer of her palms was ripped off, as if her hands were laid to rest in lava. Nevertheless, she grounded her jaw- she could do this. The red weapon, slowly but surely, fell to kiss the floor.

To the best of her abilities, Zoё tore away strands of ebony fabric from her sleeves. With much difficulty she wrapped it around her palms, making knots to keep them in place. There. Good as new. The fabric stuck like a second skin to her hands, but, again, she didn't care. The blood was being soaked up.

Shaking from either her nerves or the pain, Zoё picked up her sword. She wiped it on her shirt; she would use it later.

Zoё ran in the direction the spirit had managed to tell her.

Annabeth didn't remember getting kidnapped. She didn't remember being dumped in another dimly lit room, either. Her body was frozen to the bone and she rubbed her hand up and down her legs for friction. Annabeth discerned that heavy feeling upon her hands- shackles. Oh, how much she despised them.

She tried standing up- bad idea, bad idea. Pain erupted from her foot, sending her down to the floor. She groaned in protest. She was left weak, alone,and helpless. A faint breath echoed from at least twenty feet away.

Annabeth stayed still, completely still- this was notfrom her imagination. The breath repeated itself, then a cough, a wild series of coughs. She could tell they were coughing up something.

After what seemed like forever, the noise died down. Annabeth decided to take her chances. "Hello?" she asked.

No answer. She should have expected this.

"Hel-"

"Annabeth," a voice said faintly. It was one that reminded her of Luke's voice; how he had sounded when he died in the Mount Olympus throne room. When Annabeth told him of their family: him, Thalia, and Annabeth, he promised. Then Annabeth gave him her dagger and... He killed himself. He sacrificed himself so Kronos would go back to Tartarus. The ultimate sacrifice; she knew it.

But this voice wasn't Luke's. It belonged to an assassin, a particular assassin. The one who had thrown her off of Mount Everest and called her mother a bitch.

"You," she said, a hint of anger weaving its way into her words. "What are you doing here?"

He seemed to sneer at her through the darkness. "I could ask you the same thing."

"I woke up in here," she said, instinctively crossing her arms.

"Congratulations," he muttered and his voice rose. "You know exactly what I meant, daughter of Athena."

Annabeth tried to come up with a straight answer. "I-I was knocked unconscious..."

He was silent.

"And..." she sighed nervously. "I don'tknow, okay?" she snapped at him. "I'm notlikeyou. I don't know everything!"

Again, he was silent. Then his voice rang out clearly through the silence: "I don't expect you to. I'm just doing my job. Details are vital, in case you haven't noticed, Athena spawn."

Annabeth didn't respond- she didn't know how to. All these assassins ever did was test her: over and over again. She was tired of it, tired of it all. She would ask a question, another would be reflected back at her. They needed to be given a piece of their own mind, but wouldn't they kill her?

"Of course I've noticed, but you don't need to be so damn harsh about it."

He cleared his throat and a noise of moving fabric sounded. "Excuse my harshness, then," he replied calmly. "I've been trained that way."

That got her mind working. Annabeth wondered how he was trained, how he was turned into an assassin. Or maybe he was raised among them. His cold demeanor and straightforward answers suggested it, but she wasn't entirely sure. He must have had been a normal person at some point in his life, like her, during her travels with Thalia and Luke.

"How?" she asked.

He was hesitant to answer. "That is classifi- Zoё." Zoё? What swift way to change the subject. The assassin was calm to say the name. Meaning this Zoё was considered a friend in his eyes.

A flash of bright shined in Annabeth's face, blinding her. She shielded her eyes with an arm, sitting up for a better view. A faint, graceful silhouette stood in the doorway, then was gone. The light disappeared and it took Annabeth a moment to realize the door was closed. She would find out later it was so they weren't found and caught.

Zoё took eight quick steps, Annabeth counted, and knelt- the moving of fabric proved it. "Aion, are you okay?"

A second's silence passed between them and the assassin- Aion- replied. "Yeah. Yeah, your heal really helped. I feel fine, mostly. Where's Luke?"

Annabeth felt like she was intruding on their conversation, but she couldn't do anything about it. She was rendered useless in her cell, chained to the wall by the shackles of Hell, she had begun to think of them.

Zoё let out a breath. "I don't know. I was hoping he was here..."

Aion seemed to become alert at once, by the ferocity of his words. "Zoё, what do you mean?"

"You were unconscious for nearly an hour, Aion," she explained. "We were all taken away to the dungeons, Ouranos ordered it, and separated. Long story short, I escaped on the way there and found you."

Aion was silent. Then, in a somber manner, he said, "Zoё, your hands."

Looks like the assassins could see in the dark as well, Annabeth thought. Invincibility and night-vision? Why didn't the other demigods have that? It wasn't fair- it simply wasn't. Annabeth was jealous.

"It's nothing," Zoё replied quickly. There was a brush of metal colliding, and after that a reverberating crash on the cement as steel fell. Three more followed beyond that, making Annabeth wince as the echoes temporarily killed off her sense of hearing.

"Thanks," Aion said. He took full, complete breaths as he got up. His breathing faltered each time he reached the pinnacle of his inhale.

"Aion?"

"Fine," he told Zoё. "You should get the daughter of Athena as well."

"You sure?" his wife inquired.

"No matter how much I want her dead, it's the right thing to do. You know it is." Annabeth was disgusted by his way of thinking.

"All right. Annabeth?" Zoё raised her voice at her name. Annabeth instinctively raised her head at the sound of her own name- demanding and full of power. She never thought her name could sound like this.

Nevertheless, she answered. "Here."

Each step echoed, closer to her, making her flinch. Finally she knelt to her. "Stay still," Zoё told her. "No matter how horrid it is, stay still." Annabeth obeyed. Even though she didn't know Zoё at all, she trusted her. Annabeth trusted the assassin.

She felt it before she heard it. A blade barely grazed her skin before it sliced the cuff in two. Then the echo; a precise, clean sound. Annabeth almost wanted to hear it again just to be sure. The female assassin moved onto Annabeth's other hand. She performed the same cut, an identical ear-splitting noise.

"Can you stand?" Zoё asked her.

"No," Annabeth shook her head.

Zoё sighed and knelt down to Annabeth. She placed a hand on her foot, exactly where it was most likely broken. She pressed gently, making a colossal pain erupt from Annabeth's foot. "Hurts?"

Annabeth's voice came out as a small squeak. "Yes."

"Hold still." Again, Annabeth fulfilled the assassin's wish. From her hand came a rush of energy that could rival even the gods' ambrosia and nectar. It ran through her body, though most of it concentrated on her foot; where it ached. The pain was thrust in a cell of its own and Annabeth felt better.

Zoё removed her hand from Annabeth's foot and rose. "Try standing now." She said.

Despite the silenced pain, Annabeth expected to have difficulty getting up. Instead, she discovered the opposite. She felt lighter than air once she stood. Her foot didn't bother her anymore. Annabeth almost cried with relief.

"Thank you," she told the assassin. Even though she couldn't see yet, the pain was gone. She was lucky for that.

"No problem," Zoё replied. She approached what Annabeth thought was the door. "Let's find Luke and get the hell out of here."

The same blinding light was thrust into Annabeth's face, but she didn't care. Her eyesight turned completely white, but succumbed to the light, highlighting each shadow. She didn't care about that, either. For the first time since she went with Aion to save his daughter, she felt she was partof the quest, not a third wheel. The assassins considered her a worthy part of the quest. She never thought that would happen. Annabeth almost laughed with delight.

She and Aion followed Zoё's lead out of the room, back into clear reality. They were leaving, she noted. Finally leaving.

Finally leaving.