XI

When Pax reached the top, he wasn't in a dancing-with-weasels kind of mood. However, he'd spent years perfecting a realistic looking smile. After their father finished beating or lashing Pax in front of Axel as a way to punish Axel, Pax knew that he had to pretend it was nothing.

As Pax climbed over the ledge of the rock, feeling sick with worry about Lou Ellen and horrified that they had no plans about how they'd get out of Greek Hell, his smile almost faltered.

At first, he thought Prometheus was dead, and Pax was figuring out how to break that news to Lou Ellen. "I know you lost your limb and didn't save Prometheus… but at least we got some cool Tartarus-stained cotton ball souvenirs!"

There was a massive gash along his torso. The titan's skin was sickeningly pale and coated with sweat. His hair slicked wet to his scalp. Scars littered him from head to toe. And, his organs…

Pax had another flashback to Alabaster's sausage intestines. He sent a quick prayer to Tyche to thank the goddess of luck for keeping Alabaster's intestines in his stomach and to always keep them in there. On this trip, Pax had enough intestines and sausages to last him a year if not more.

The gloves had proved exceedingly useful to avoid total grossness while climbing up the rocky edge and even provided a bit of an extra danger as latext+blood+slick obsidian=death. When Axel pointed to Prometheus' cuffed hands and said, "pick these," Pax realized he owed Lou Ellen way more than a hug for the latex gloves.

Pax remembered how Mercedes said he would be ready for a real mission to New Rome soon. She warned that he would need to perform quickly, under pressure, and with high stakes. (Something he'd barely avoided turning into a sex joke. Mercedes swatted him when she saw the look on his face). He hoped New Rome would have less blood.

Pax knelt down into something surprisingly soft and giving. It made a crunching exhale of air, like biting into a mille-feuille or some other aerated puff pastry. The sound and feel made Pax's stomach do some jumping jacks when he examined Prometheus' chains and figured out what he was kneeling on.

Those cuffs were completely crusted with layers and layers of blood. Upon a closer look, Pax realized the metal must have been thinner than they appeared—centuries of rubbed off skin, clotted blood, and sweat must have rusted away the surface and combined to make a film of coagulated grime.

Pax felt woozy, swaying slightly. Axel put a gentle arm on his shoulder. Pax opened his mouth once, closed it, swallowed, and said, "At least, if I throw up, I know I won't be the only one who lost my stomach."

Prometheus' body shuddered with what Pax knew, in horror, was a laugh. Seeing the titan's internals move with the motion—Pax very happy his father had never pushed him to be a surgeon. Killer and a drug dealer? Sure. But never a surgeon.

Axel knelt beside Pax. His older brother set a sword down beside the two of them, the blade sinking an inch into the cushion of gross. Axel tore off a piece of his pant leg and scrubbed at one chain, carefully avoiding Prometheus' emaciated wrist underneath.

After a moment of watching the crust peel away, Pax swallowed again and leaned forward to help Axel. "It's no fair if you both get to slay the eagle AND do the clean up," he said.

Between the two of them, cleaning off the crusted gunk took longer than it should have. Pax thought about Lou Ellen's gangrene ridden stump each time he scrubbed. The thought, in combo with Prometheus' open eagle-buffet stomach, was not helping.

The metal was the size of a dog collar. They were 3/4th through cleaning it when Pax felt a sinking feeling inside his stomach. Beside them, the titan appeared to be rousing from shock or whatever immortals felt when they had their insides ripped out.

If Pax remembered correctly, this happened to Prometheus every day. "Another day in Paradise?" he mumbled.

Pax almost screamed when the titan responded. He didn't think Prometheus was aware enough to do so. "Thank you…" the titan's voice was weak, but still rattled and radiated with a dimmed power. "… for slaying that eagle."

Axel paused. When Pax looked at him, his brother's face was contorted with sympathy. Axel gently squeezed Prometheus' forearm, his fingers unable to curl around the giant limb. "No one should be punished for trying to better the world."

Pax finished cleaning around the full cuff. His heart nearly plummeted when he discovered his worry was valid. "Axel," Pax said, hating to break up the new bromance. "There's no lock to pick." On Pax's side of the chain, he'd found something horrifying for a lock picker—a fused piece of metal. As he's suspected, the ring had been fused shut.

Axel sighed, his shoulders slumping in exhaustion.

Prometheus mimicked the deep exhalation. "In a bout of delirium… I may have… informed Hades that…. I appreciated him putting in keyholes… as forethought for future rescues." He released a pained laugh. "Knew they would fuse them shut… couldn't resister urge to point out… Hades' folly…"

Bile threatened to rise up Pax's throat. He handled what was happening to Lou Ellen and where he and Axel were, but only with the condition that this guy came back with them.

"Dude, you're a titan," Pax said, remembering all the crap Luke had proselytized on about with Kronos. "Can't you like, breath fire or something?"

Prometheus released another pained laugh. "I can tell you your horoscope with 90% accuracy."

"Cool, but less situationally useful," Pax said.

Axel let go of Prometheus' arm and lifted his sword from the blood-crusted rock. "You can also regenerate your spleen overnight. Can you regenerate your hands and feet?"

Axel rose. His body trembled. When Pax got up here, he thought Axel looked terrible. Now, Axel looked like he thought Armageddon was going to start and he was going to cause it. Though, Pax has to pause, wasn't that the whole point of the whole Kronos thing?

The titan released a pained laugh. "Oh, Mother Gaea, you, wonderful, clever asshole. Are you sure you're not just my next punishment? I take it no strength of Hercules?"

Axel shook his head. His lips twitched to a deeper frown. "I'm sorry. No. I fight with Mist, strategy, and speed, as you saw."

"I suppose it will be better than Mirmir," Prometheus said, his voice choking up, "Such is the fate of those who grant wise counsel."

Pax knew that they were all miserable, but he wasn't sure what caused the sudden shift to guilt. "I don't get it," he said, glancing from Axel to Prometheus. "Did Mirmir give bad horoscopes?"

Axel swallowed. "Ajax, climb back down. Check on Lou Ellen. I don't want you complaining about having nightmares for weeks."

Pax was about to protest, too late, when Axel drew lines in the grime on Prometheus's wrists and ankles. By the time Pax made it to the ledge, his brother was already raising his sword above their alley's arm.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I hope it detached you from current events for a little bit, but not from any of your limbs.

I hope all of you are staying safe and healthy. Tune in next week for the second to last chapter of this "short" story where you find out what Pax wants for Christmas this year.