They walked for what felt like days. Bob shone faintly in the dark, and with Riptide and Zoe's knives also contributing their fair share of light Percy was able to make out the faint outline of what was surrounding them.
He kind of wished he couldn't. Between the tiny, creepy faces that danced along the corner of his eyes, the rocky outcroppings that elicited a strong feeling of claustrophobia, and the ever present insect hair-like trees, he wasn't exactly feeling welcome here.
Oh yeah, and the voices were back. They giggled at him tauntingly, always tickling the back of his ears, always whispering sweet nothings that slowly turned into angry shouts, only to disappear whenever he focused too hard on them.
Zoe walked steadfastly by his side, close enough that he could see the individual beads of sweat that trickled down the side of her face. She clearly wasn't feeling much better about this place.
Bob seemed well enough. He walked with the authority of someone who not only belonged here, but ruled. The aura he was giving off must have been what his father and uncles had felt when they faced off against Iapetus, Lord of the West.
In the context of things, it still didn't feel very comforting. Tartarus was where monsters and immortals alike were sent to regenerate - what if simply being in this place began to repair Bob's memory?
Percy shuddered at the thought of that. He and Zoe had barely defeated Hyperion when the conditions were about as optimal for them as possible.
There was no Phlegethon here to save them if it came down to it.
Zoe noticed the tension in his frame, and shot him a concerned look. He tried to offer up another smile, but he could tell it came out as more of a pained grimace. It was getting harder and harder to lie to himself down here.
All the stress briefly left his body as Zoe softly squeezed his hand, and he sighed as he felt the warmth that she was trying to convey to him. For a brief moment, the air wasn't so toxic down here. The heat wasn't so unbearable. He smiled as he watched Small Bob pace along the Titan's broad shoulders, purring and meowing and occasionally stretching himself flat against the blue janitor uniform.
And then he blinked and the feeling was gone.
It was nice while it lasted.
Bob stopped so suddenly and so unannounced that Percy walked right into his back like an idiot.
It was like walking into a brick wall. His nose crunched and for a brief moment he feared it was broken, but thankfully there wasn't any serious damage.
Zoe caught him quickly, keeping him from falling to the ground as she shot yet another dirty look at Bob.
"Sorry," he grunted out, "But we are here."
"Here?" Zoe asked tightly, "Where is here?"
Bob ignored the harsh tone Zoe was trying (and failing) to keep a lid on. "It is darker. This is the place where we go sideways."
Percy couldn't tell if it was actually darker, but he wasn't going to question it. Now that he had reason to focus on it, the air here seemed colder and thicker, as if they were beneath a glacier.
An evil glacier.
Bob struck off to the left, and Zoe and Percy were quick to follow. The temperature continued to drop. Percy began to shiver, regardless of his natural immunity to cold weather. He was really feeling the lack of clothing now. He eyed Zoe's hunting parka enviously.
The chill did more than freeze him down to the bone. It felt like it was freezing his brain as well.
He never felt more alone than he did at that moment.
They'd entered some form of forest. Smooth, branchless trees that must have been the pit's hair follicles burst from the earth, shooting up into the gloom like pillars that held up the dark sky. The ground was smooth and pale, as though Tartarus had decided to ditch the facade of dirt it had been wearing in the plains along the Phlegethon.
A burst of wind made all the hairs on the back of his neck stand up even straighter. Zoe felt it too, if the way she inched closer to him was any indication.
"Did you feel that?" She whispered. Percy nodded, raising Riptide in preparation for a fight. It thrummed with energy, practically vibrating in his grip. He held it tightly to prevent himself from accidentally dropping his weapon. Whatever this place was doing to his sword, it was also making the blade far more powerful.
Bob noticed their pause and looked back, confused. "We are stopping?" He asked, before Zoe silenced him with a finger to her lips.
Percy closed his eyes in an attempt to steady himself. Nothing felt different around them. Ahead was Bob. To his left was Zoe, and to his right was Riptide. Nothing was behind them.
"Above us," he breathed out, horrified.
A few yards away, one of the many trees shuddered.
Bob closed ranks with Percy and Zoe, each of them standing back to back as they prepared for whatever was hiding in the shadows to leap out at them. Small Bob was uncharacteristically silent, and Percy watched as the kitten jumped into the chest pocket on Bob's uniform.
Even he, it seemed, had no interest in the oncoming battle.
Percy strained his eyes to see whatever was trailing them, but couldn't make out anything in the darkness. The pit seemed to swallow up whatever light existed down here, and the fact that the group shone as brightly as they did spoke more of their own strength than anything.
"There!" Zoe hissed, eyes trained by two millennia of hunting her prey in the dark. She reached for a nonexistent bow on her hip before she realized where she was, cursing in a language so ancient even Percy didn't understand it. Bob seemed to comprehend what she said, though, if the way his eyes widened in shock meant anything.
Percy's immediate thought was that Mrs. Dodds had found him somehow. The creature looked almost exactly like her: a wrinkled hag with bat wings, brass talons, and glowing red eyes. She wore a tattered black dress, as though Percy's choice of attire had made waves through the Tartarus fashion industry and monsters were raring to follow in his footsteps. Her face was ravenous, too, like that of a grandma in the mood to kill.
The creature had dropped in front of him from above, and Percy felt relatively confident in his chances.
And then twenty or so more appeared at her side, surrounding the group with no hopes of escape.
So it wasn't the furies then. There were only three of those old bats, and Percy couldn't imagine Hades sending three of his most powerful minions out on a recon mission of the pit.
"Arai," Zoe whispered in shock. "Not good."
Percy scowled. When was anything good down here?
He stepped forward bravely, trying to mask his fear with bravado. "What do you want?" He snarled.
The arai cackled as one. To curse you, of course! They hissed. To destroy you a thousand times in the name of Mother Night!
Percy clicked his tongue. No time for negotiations then.
He retreated back to his comrade's side. Riptide gleamed dangerously in the darkness, briefly causing the nearest arai to lean back in fright.
But that didn't last long.
The circle of demon ladies closed in.
Percy didn't like their odds - three against several dozen wasn't his definition of a fair fight, but at least he knew how to fight and how to fight well. He had grown antsy as they crept through the darkness, and now he could finally put his ADHD to good use.
Besides, he had Zoe and Bob by his side. Facing off against an army of monsters with the help of two Titans (or a Titan and a… Demititan? Half-Titan? Whatever Zoe counted as) made the impossible task seem like less of one.
"Back off." He jabbed Riptide at the nearest shriveled hag, but she only sneered.
We are the arai, said the weird voice-over, making Percy feel like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.
Zoe gripped his forearm tightly. "Do not slay them," she warned, eyes never leaving the horde, "They are the spirits of curses. Any thou destroys shall simply manifest into a curse a fallen enemy has sullied thy name with."
Percy couldn't make out exactly what Zoe had said in the heat of the battle, thanks to the way she still clung to Shakespearean English, but he was able to catch the gist of things.
Don't kill them. They'll curse you and it won't be good.
"Bob doesn't like curses," Bob decided. He swung his broom in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, but they came in again like the tide.
We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you, Perseus Jackson.
His stomach churned, as though the firewater within wanted to come back out to singe the spirits. As funny as that would be, he was sure it wouldn't do him any good.
"I appreciate the offer," he said, "But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."
He winced at the horrible line, and even some of the arai looked at him, as if to say 'Really? That's the best you could do?'.
The nearest arai lunged. Almost on instinct he swung Riptide, cleaving the woman clean in two and turning her to dust. His sides immediately flared in pain, and he stumbled back into the group. His free hand went to his side, clutching his ribcage, and flinched as his fingers came away wet and red.
"Percy," Zoe whispered, horrified and morbidly fascinated, "Thou art bleeding on both sides."
It was true. If his shirt had remained slightly more intact, it may have covered the wound, but as it was the injury was laid bare for the whole world to see. It looked as though Atlas had run him through horizontally with his javelin.
Or an arrow…
Queasiness almost knocked him over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.
He flashed back to an encounter in Texas two years ago - a fight with a monstrous rancher who could only be killed if each of his three bodies was cut through simultaneously.
"Geryon," he gasped, "This is how I killed him."
The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.
Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been leveled at you, Percy Jackson. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!
For a moment, their haunting words made him pause. Would they actually give him a choice on how he could die? That was a courtesy he probably wouldn't receive again in his life.
It almost tempted him. The Riptide began to thrum again and he steeled his will.
Somehow he stayed on his feet. He willed his blood to stop flowing out of his body, clogging the wound and forcing it to clot, but it still felt like he had a hot metal curtain rod sticking through his ribs. His sword arm was heavy and weak.
"I don't understand," he muttered.
Bob's voice seemed to echo from the end of a long tunnel. "If you kill one, it gives you a curse."
"And if you don't kill them," Zoe finished grimly, "They will kill us anyway."
Great. What a way to go. At least it was more heroic than starving to death.
Choose! The arai cried. Will you be crushed like Kampe? Or disintegrated like the young telkhines you slaughtered under Mount St. Helens? You have spread so much death and suffering, Percy Jackson! Let us repay you!
"Slaughtered?" He couldn't help but laugh at the accusation. "They attacked me first, you old freaks. Ever heard of self-defense?"
He couldn't see it in the dark, but a flicker of hesitation passed across the faces of the arai as Percy ignored their hateful calls.
The reprieve left as quickly as it had arrived. The winged hags pressed in, their breath sour, their eyes burning with hatred. They looked like the Furies, sure, but Percy decided these things were even worse. At least those three were under the control of Hades. These things were wild, and they just kept multiplying.
If they really embodied the dying curses of every enemy Percy had ever destroyed… then he was in serious trouble. He'd faced a lot of enemies.
One of the demons lunged at Zoe. Instinctively (and drilled into her head relentlessly over the ages), she dodged, bringing the hilt of one of her knives down onto the old lady's head. It wasn't even very powerful, a blow meant more to incapacitate or injure rather than kill, but the monster still fell apart beneath the strike.
It wasn't like she'd had much of a choice. Percy would have done the same thing - and probably been a lot more vicious in his execution - but she screamed the moment the arai disappeared, falling to one knee with a whimper.
"My- my leg!" Her eyes were squeezed shut in agony, and her breath came out in short, painful bursts.
Percy's eyes widened in horror, and he immediately fell down to his friend's level to help in any way he could.
A fresh curse! A fresh curse! The arai crowed, cackling maniacally. Straight from Hyperion! You severed his Achilles Tendon in this place not too long ago, and so now yours shall snap as well!
"Hyperion?" Bob muttered, eyes fogging up. "Brother…"
Percy ignored him, slinging Zoe's arm around his shoulders and helping her to stand, making sure to avoid putting any weight on her injured leg. The arai lunged at him, and he prepared for pain as he swung Riptide freely.
Bob met them midleap. Even as a war waged on behind his eyes, he still swung his broom out in a wide arc, toppling the arai like bowling pins.
More lunged forward. Bob turned them all to ash and dust just the same.
They finally stopped attacking after the third wave.
Percy held his breath, waiting for their other Titan friend to be laid low with some terrible curse, but Bob seemed fine - a massive silvery bodyguard keeping death at bay with the world's most terrifying cleaning implement.
"Bob, you okay?" Percy ventured, shifting Zoe's arm to wrap further around his neck, "No curses?"
"No curses for Bob!" Bob agreed.
The arai snarled and circled, eyeing the broom the same way a snake would eye a spear. The Titan is already cursed. Why should we torture him further? You, Percy Jackson, have already destroyed his memory.
Percy's blood ran cold.
Bob's spearhead dipped.
Zoe's grip around his neck tightened ever so slightly.
"Bob, do not listen to them!" She warned, "They are evil!"
Time slowed. Percy wondered if the spirit of Kronos really was with them in that moment, swirling in the darkness, savoring this moment so much that he was willing to bend the rules to make it last forever. Percy felt exactly like he did at twelve years old, battling Ares on that beach in Los Angeles, where the shadow of the Titan lord had first passed over him.
Bob turned. His wild white hair looked like an exploded halo. He must have been a horrible sight for the Titan to fix his gaze upon, bloody and fractured and weak. "My memory… it was you?"
Percy's tongue felt like it was being weighed down by a lead blanket as he answered. "Yes. It's a long story. I'm sorry."
That last sentence was barely loud enough to qualify as a whisper. He wondered if Bob even heard it over the roars of the arai.
He stole your life! They chanted. Leaving you in the palace of Hades to scrub floors!
Zoe leant in even closer to him, her breath tickling his ear. "Leave me," she whispered, "I will only slow thee down. I can distract them for thee."
She was shaking as she told him her plan. Percy shook his head.
"Not a chance," he breathed out, before turning his eyes back to the Titan. "Bob, listen. The arai want you to get angry. They spawn from bitter thoughts. Don't give them what they want. We are your friends. It's a long story, what happened between us, and I can explain it if we can get away from them."
He knew he sounded desperate and pathetic, but he didn't care. Even as he said it, he felt like a liar. He'd left Bob in the Underworld and hadn't given him a thought since. What made them friends? The fact that Percy needed him now? Percy always hated it when the gods used him for their errands. Now he was treating Bob the same way.
You see his face? The arai sneered. The boy cannot even convince himself. His soul is filled with guilt and grief, ripe for the taking! Did he visit you, after he stole your memory?
"No," Bob murmured. His lower lip quivered. "The other one did."
Percy's thoughts moved sluggishly. Anything he said to defend himself at this point wouldn't be worth it - especially since he didn't believe it himself. Who cared if he couldn't visit the Underworld without risking the wrath of his uncle? When had that stopped him before? "The other one?"
"Nico." Bob scowled at him, his big eyes filled to the brim with hurt. "Nico visited. Told me about Percy. Said Percy was good. Said he was a friend. That is why Bob helped."
Percy opened his mouth, but not a sound came out, the noise disintegrating before it even left his vocal chords. He'd never felt so lowly and dishonorable, so unworthy of having a friend.
The arai attacked, and this time Bob did not stop them.
Percy made a split second decision that saved both his and Zoe's life.
He pocketed Riptide, swept the former Huntress up in his arms, and ran.
She gasped in pain as her leg jostled around with every slight movement, but made no attempt to stop him as he carried her away as quickly as he could. He curled her close to his chest before running through a wall of arai - some dissolved on impact, some tore at his rags and his bare skin and left nasty claw marks. He probably brought down a dozen curses on himself, but he didn't notice them right away, so he kept on running.
Somewhere to his north, he could sense the Phlegethon churning. He couldn't tell the distance - was this what Bob had meant by only being able to feel things, and not distance? His eyes hardened at the thought of the poor Titan, and how his own selfishness had led to this whole situation.
He'd already failed Bob. He wouldn't fail Zoe.
The pain in Percy's chest flared with every step. He wove between the trees, pushing himself to a full sprint despite the pain. He realized how much Zoe was relying on him to get her out of this. He couldn't let her down, yet how could he save her?
He'd figure out a way to heal her leg later. First they had to escape.
Leathery wings beat the air above them. Angry hissing and the scuttling of clawed feet told him the demons were at his back.
If he'd had a free hand, he'd have brought Riptide out and started cutting down trees behind them to slow down the arai. As it was, however, his hands were - quite literally - full.
Percy would never admit it to her face, but with all the heavy gear she was wearing, and the fact that the pit was slowly sapping his life away, Zoe was surprisingly heavy.
"Percy, stop!" Zoe shouted, and just in time too. The darkness in front of them had become thicker, which meant that they were now staring down a cliff.
Percy couldn't see how far the cliff dropped. It could be ten feet or ten thousand. There was no telling what was at the bottom. He could jump and hope for the best, but he doubted 'the best' ever happened in Tartarus.
So, two options: right or left, following the edge.
He was about to choose randomly when a winged demon descended in front of them, hovering over the void on her bat wings, just out of Zoe's knife reach.
Did you have a nice walk? The collective voice asked, echoing all around them.
Percy turned. The arai were pouring out of the woods, forming a crescent around them. The one that had been hovering behind them lunged, and would have taken his head off had Zoe not been anticipating such a move. She threw one of her two knives at the monster, cleanly slicing her head off as the knife careened into the void.
But that seemed to be just what the arai wanted. Zoe had practically zero time to react before she went limp in his arms, groaning pitifully before going quiet.
"Zoe!" He gasped, before staring hatefully out at the arai. "What did you do to her?!"
We did nothing! The demons cheered. The girl has simply succumbed to another curse levied against her, and what better than a curse from her own father! Even now, far from the Sky's reach, she feels the same crushing pain Atlas does.
Zoe whimpered. Percy briefly wondered if she could even hear the words being spoken around her, or if she was cognizant enough to recognize where she was anymore.
Based on his experience with the Burden of the Sky, it wasn't likely. He could barely even think with the pain that had been coursing through his body in that moment, much less react to the environment.
He shifted Zoe onto his shoulder, wincing at the way she groaned. He held onto her with one hand while yanking Riptide out of his pocket, flipping the cap off and scowling at the arai. He whispered out apologies to the poor girl, but he doubted she heard them.
The eyes of the demons blurred together like their voices. Percy's sides throbbed. The pain in his chest was worse, as if someone were slowly twisting a dagger into his heart.
He clenched his jaw. He didn't care how many curses he suffered.
It was either this or both of them would die.
He yelled in fury and attacked them all.
–
For one exciting minute, Percy felt like he was winning. Riptide cut through the arai as though they were made of powdered sugar, even with someone on his other shoulder. The arai panicked as he charged at them, one running face first into a tree. Another screeched and tried to fly away, but Percy sliced off her wings and sent her spiraling into the chasm.
It felt good to cut loose and kill these things.
But each time he killed an arai, he felt a heavier sense of dread as another curse settled on him. Some were harsh and painful: a stabbing in the gut, a burning sensation like he was being blasted by a blowtorch. Some were subtle: a chill in the blood, his extremities going numb, an uncontrollable tic in his right eye.
Seriously, who curses you with their dying breath and says: I hope your eye twitches!
Percy knew that he'd killed a lot of monsters, but he never really thought about it from the monsters' point of view. Now all their pain and anger and bitterness poured over him, sapping his strength.
The arai just kept coming. For every one he cut down, another six took their place.
His sword arm grew tired. His body ached, and his vision blurred. Zoe wasn't getting any lighter, either, but he remained stalwart in his duty.
After a brief moment where he lost his vision (the world becoming a terrifying black blob), an opportunistic arai pounced and sunk its teeth into his thigh and everything came storming back. Percy roared, slicing the demon dust, but immediately fell to his knees.
His mouth burned worse than when he had first swallowed the waters of the Phlegethon. He fought to keep himself from doubling over in pain, but it was a losing battle. He retched up the contents of his stomach onto the ground beneath him as what felt like a dozen fiery snakes began to work their way down his esophagus.
You have chosen, the voice of the arai said, the curse of Phineas… an excellent painful death.
Percy tried to speak. His tongue felt like it was being microwaved. He remembered the old blind king who had chased harpies through Portland with a WeedWacker. Percy had challenged him to a contest, and the loser had drunk a deadly vial of gorgon's blood. He didn't remember the old man muttering a final curse, but as Phineas dissolved and returned to the Underworld, he probably hadn't wished Percy a long and happy life.
After Percy's victory then, Gaea had warned him: Do not push your luck. When your death comes, I promise it will be much more painful than gorgon's blood.
He thought the Earth Goddess might have been right about that one. Alone in Tartarus, dying from gorgon's blood plus a dozen other agonizing curses, holding the body of one of the dozens of people he'd failed to save in his lifetime.
Percy clutched Riptide. His knuckles started to steam. White smoke curled off his forearms as he tried to focus on his breathing.
Another arai lunged at him, and he barely killed it before it would have torn Zoe away from him. His arm holding Riptide immediately dipped to the ground, as though thousand-pound weights had been added to the tip of the blade.
And there it is! The arai cheered as Riptide fell lamely into the dirt. The curse of Ares! Cursed by one of your precious Olympians, dooming your blade to fail you when you need it most! Beautiful!
Percy grit his teeth. He fucking hated Ares. Aphrodite too, for that matter - she was half the reason he fell down here alone, after all, and thought his life was just another game for her to play with. They were right up there with Zeus at the top of his shit list.
His heart pounded, and the arai began to cackle as he fought to keep himself from faceplanting into the pit. He tried to focus on what he and Zoe had discussed after their fight with Hyperion - the idea of being able to strengthen himself by overclocking his respiratory system and blood, at the cost of all his remaining stamina.
He could feel his blood flowing through his body, and willed it to go faster. It wasn't hard, seeing as he was already pretty pissed, and being angry had helped him before, and soon he was steaming like a tea kettle.
His head will erupt first, the voice speculated.
No, the voice answered itself. He will combust all at once.
Percy could feel his heartbeat all over his body. Riptide felt like it was going to explode in his hands. The curse gave him twice as much strife as he fought the urge to give up and die.
He lifted his arm. On two shaky legs, he stood proudly against the horde of arai.
Even if he died here, he would make sure Zoe survived. He owed her that much.
The arai shrieked in terror as he gave them a toothy grin. To them, in that moment, he was the scariest monster in Tartarus. A bloody smile, burning flesh, and a sword that had claimed the lives of many of their kin were all that the monster could offer them.
Percy showed them no quarter as he slaughtered them. He almost felt as though he had been dipped in the Styx again with the way the arai were fleeing from him.
He targeted the quick ones first. They were the ones he would have to worry about coming back once he was dead. None of them escaped Riptide. His sword still felt like it weighed as much as Echidna, but with every arai he split in half the curse felt lighter.
A hurricane of carnage swirled around him, and Percy was in the eye of the storm.
And then, just like that, it was over. The arai were all gone, dead by his hands, leaving no trace of themselves aside from the curses that continued to ebb away at his and Zoe's life force.
Zoe fell from his shoulders, making nary a sound as she collapsed onto the cliff's edge next to him. He felt hot and cold and clammy and frozen and so much pain why wasn't he dead what was happening to his body how was he still breathing -
"Bob," he croaked, wheezing like he had lung cancer, "I'm sorry."
Percy's head hit the pale ground hard. If he had been able to open his eyes still, his vision would have briefly left him again. He fought to stay alive, but it was a losing battle.
He pushed himself onto his back with trembling limbs, flattening out on the edge of the cliff as he stared into oblivion. His surroundings seemed to flicker. The sky boiled and the ground blistered.
Percy realized that what he saw of Tartarus was only a watered-down version of its true horror - only what his puny, mortal brain could handle. The worst of it was veiled, the same way the Mist veiled monsters from mortal sight. Now, as he died, he began to see the truth.
It nearly drove him mad. More mad than he already was. Was this what insanity felt like?
The air was the breath of Tartarus. All these monsters were just blood cells circulating through the body. Everything Percy saw was a dream in the mind of the dark god of the pit.
This must have been the way Nico had seen Tartarus, and it had almost destroyed his sanity. Nico… one of the many people he had failed. He had only made it this far through Tartarus because Nico di Angelo had behaved like Bob's true friend. Because Zoe had decided to follow him on his suicide quest to stop Gaea, instead of leaving him to the wolves like a normal person.
And look where it had gotten them. Bob shouldn't have even been down here. Zoe was going to die with him, crushed underneath the feeling of the weight of the Sky.
"I'm sorry, Zoe, I couldn't protect you," he murmured. He couldn't even tell if he was making noise. "I'm sorry, Bob. I should have been honest with you. I should have been a better person. I should have visited. I'm sorry. I don't deserve your forgiveness, and I won't ask for it. But please, help Zoe. Protect your granddaughter."
He didn't expect Bob to hear him as he begged. Or care. But he had to try, for Zoe's sake. Maybe one day she'd see the stars she loved so much again.
Percy couldn't blame anyone else for his troubles anymore. Not the gods. Not Bob. Not even Ares. Everything that had led him to this moment was his fault, and no one else's.
For some reason, his mind drifted to Calypso in his final moments. He had pushed for her release, but now he sort of wished he'd never left Ogygia. He wouldn't have had to die in Tartarus. He wouldn't have to worry about survival every day for the rest of his life.
He would have been loved.
What a stupid thought. He hadn't treated Calypso any better than anybody else he'd hurt through his life. He hadn't even thought about her until he'd had that nightmare last time he slept, and yet her moonlace bloomed in his mother's apartment in Manhattan. He didn't deserve her love.
Percy didn't deserve anyone's love. He deserved to die here, alone and unwanted, slowly burning away to ash in the depths of Tartarus.
He shed silent tears as he closed his eyes and prepared for the inevitable.
Except that didn't happen.
Percy felt Bob appear better than he would have seen it - which was good, considering that he couldn't find the strength to open his eyes. The Titan approached him, but Percy used the last of his strength to fling his arm out in the general direction of Zoe.
Bob frowned as he took in the forms of the two dying heroes. He poked Zoe in the forehead, hand glowing silver. "Owie."
Zoe's eyes shot open. She lurched forward like her heart had been restarted. She was breathing heavily and covered in sweat. "Where– what–?"
Bob gave her a sad look. "You were cursed. The curse of Atlas. It wasn't real, but it hurt. Big owie."
Zoe's eyes immediately shot over to Percy's fallen form. He almost looked like he was trying to make a snow angel. A million different emotions flashed across her face, but the only one that seemed to stick was horror at the state he was in.
"What's wrong with him?!" She cried, cradling his limp body as her tears began to fall, "What happened?"
Percy tried to do anything, but it was like he was a spectator to his own death. He felt like his consciousness was floating away from the rest of his body, the tethers of life slowly snapping as his balloon of life fought to float away.
Bob loomed over them, his broom planted like a flag. His face was unreadable, luminously white in the dark.
"Lots of curses," he rumbled, "Countless. Percy has done bad things to monsters."
"Can thou help him?" She pleaded, "Like you did with my curses? Please, save him!"
Bob frowned. He picked at the name tag on his uniform like it was a scab.
Zoe tried again. "Bob–"
"Iapetus," the Titan said, his voice a low rumble, "Before Bob. I was Iapetus."
The air was absolutely still. Percy wasn't sure how he was still breathing, or if he even was anymore.
"Alright," Zoe breathed out, "Iapetus. Would thou rather be Iapetus or Bob?"
He regarded his granddaughter with his pure silver eyes, burning brighter than ever before. "I do not know anymore."
The Titan crouched next to her and studied Percy. His face suddenly looked haggard and careworn, as if he suddenly felt the weight of all his centuries.
"I promised," he murmured, "Nico asked me to help. I do not think Iapetus or Bob likes breaking promises."
He touched Percy's forehead. His skull rolled back at the touch, and Bob frowned. Zoe held his head in place on the second attempt.
"Owie," the Titan said under his breath, "Very big owie."
Percy sank back into his body. Barely. The ringing in his ears faded. He felt like he could open his eyes. His body still felt like it was going to spontaneously combust. The poison had been slowed, sure, and maybe a bit of it burned away by his own body as he expended the last of his energy during his last stand, but that had just made it spread quicker in return.
But he was still alive.
He tried to meet Bob's eyes, to express his sorrow and his guilt and his gratitude, but his eyes rolled into the back of his head and his skull lolled against his chest.
"Bob cannot cure this," Bob said, "Too much poison. Too many curses piled up."
Somewhere at his side, Riptide hummed aggressively at the words, as though it were disputing the fact that he was going to die.
Zoe hugged him close. It hurt, but he couldn't voice his displeasure. Besides, it didn't matter too much anyways - soon enough he'd die and that'd be that.
"Is– is there anything we can do, Bob?" Zoe asked, her voice shaky, "If we took him to the Phlegethon, would it be able to heal him? He was blessed by the river's patron, could that save him?"
Bob shook his head. "Too far away," he decided, "The poison spreads too fast for the water to save him."
"No," Zoe insisted, "There has to be a way. Something. Anything. He cannot die like this."
Percy didn't know why she was still fighting for him. She should hate him. The two Titans should leave him here to die and then make a beeline for the Doors of Death themselves. They might even make it out.
Bob placed his hand on Percy's chest. A cold tingle like eucalyptus oil spread across his sternum, but as soon as Bob lifted his hand the relief stopped. His lungs felt as hot as lava again in an instant.
"Tartarus is killing him," Bob said, "It heals monsters, it heals us, but he does not belong. Tartarus will not heal Percy. The pit hates mortals."
"I don't care," Zoe hissed, "I know the ways of this realm. I know that–"
A voice roared in the distance - one that Percy unfortunately recognized.
"I SMELL HIM!" The Giant roared. "BEWARE, SON OF POSEIDON! I COME FOR YOU!"
"Polybotes," Bob said. "He hates Poseidon and his children. He is very close now."
Percy tried to say something, anything, but it came out as warbled garbage. Zoe tried to get him to his feet, but his body refused to cooperate. It was like he was a puppet with his strings cut.
"Please, Bob," Zoe begged, "I'm not going to leave him here. Will you help us?"
Small Bob hopped out of his caretaker's shirt pocket. He rubbed against Bob's chin happily, purring in contentment despite the severity of the situation.
Bob looked at Percy, even as he began to pet Small Bob. Percy wished he could read the Titan's expression through his half-lidded eyes. Was he angry, or just thoughtful? Was he planning revenge, or was he just feeling hurt because Percy had lied about being his friend?
They locked eyes.
"Go," Percy whispered, "Take Zoe. Leave."
Bob turned away from him.
Zoe began to weep again.
"...There is one place," Bob said at last, "There is a Giant who might know what to do."
Zoe didn't even protest. She just nodded quietly as Bob swept Percy up in one hand with ease.
"Most Giants are bad," he said quietly, "But one is good. I will take you… unless Polybotes and the others catch us first."
That was the last thing Percy heard before he finally succumbed to the darkness.
–
A/N: Woohoo! Another chapter down! Some more action, some more angst! What more could you need! Also the longest chapter yet! I think it was pretty good, if I do say so myself - but I want to know what you all think! Was it good? Great? The worst thing you've ever read? Let me know!
Hope you enjoyed! See you next time!