Although it felt like I'd been out for ages, according to my internal clock, I'd only passed out for two and half minutes. Will violently shook my shoulders until I finally opened my eyes. It seemed that passing out had been my restart button, because I no longer trembled like a leaf in the wind, and when I looked down, I could see my hands again.

"Oh, thank the gods," Will said, squeezing my arm so tightly that he'd probably leave a bruise. "For a second I thought..."

"I said I'd be fine," I said, wincing as I shifted my weight onto my arms, feeling pangs of pain in my shoulder blades, where I'd been stabbed multiple times. "I'll admit, I didn't expect that to happen."

I got to my feet, swaying slightly, using the sides of the elevator to keep me upright. Then I realized that ambient music played in the background and scowled. Seriously, even in this hell elevator, there was music?

At least Apollo hadn't picked it out this time.

Once I regained my bearings, I stood by Luke, helping him keep the Doors of Death shut as we continued our ascent for another two and half minutes. Luke's face had turned deathly pale in the dim lighting. Sweat beaded his brow and dripped down the side of his face. The veins in his arms bulged from the amount of force he exerted on the Doors.

"When we get out of here," Luke said, "please tell me what the hell just happened to you. I don't want to hear you in so much pain ever again."

I chewed on my lip, choosing to stay silent while I could make out a faint, "If you like piña coladas," being sung.

There wasn't much conversation for the last few minutes of us returning to the mortal world, the sense of anticipation permeating through the little space we had between us. Even Will, who was by far the calmest person out of the three of us, bounced on the balls of his feet, his fingers outstretched to the sky like he couldn't wait to finally soak in the sun again.

Then a thought crossed the forefront of my mind, shattering my hope that we could just walk out of the elevator unscathed. In order to leave Tartarus, someone had to hold the button for twelve minutes, the amount of time it took the Doors to reach the mortal world. For the Doors to open in the mortal world, someone had to hold that button as well, and that meant even though we would be coming into New York, there would be something nasty guarding the other side.

Once I realized that, I handed Will my bow again and strapped my knives to my waist, taking hold of the Doors long enough for Luke to grab hold of Epithymia once more.

"Be prepared," I warned, eyeing the little screen that read Now Reaching the Mortal World in red lettering.

The doors flew open moments later, and the three of us slowly walked out of the elevator, clutching onto our weapons. We stood back to back, hesitating for a split second before tearing out of the underground tunnel we found ourselves in, the sound of rushing water echoing off the sides of the walls.

I scrunched my nose in disgust as a putrid smell hit me full force. Great, we were in one of the nastier sewers under New York.

"I can't see anything," Luke muttered, the light coming from Epithymia only illuminating a few feet in any direction. "Where are the guards?"

"That would be me," a booming voice said, the figure descending out of an overhead pipe, a gleaming Celestial bronze sword gripped tightly in his hand. With a snap of his fingers, all the emergency lights flicked on, bathing the inside of the sewer in dim orange lighting.

He wore a blood red workout shirt and black basketball shorts, but something told me that he wasn't about to challenge us to a pickup game any time soon. Dark tattoos of different gang signs shimmered and faded on his arms, moving around his coffee brown skin like Maui's in Moana. His dark hair was pulled back into a severe bun, every strand immaculately tied up.

The thing about him that stood out the most wasn't his mobile tattoos, but his shifting eyes, reflecting images of war and bloodshed and unimaginable violence. A sick feeling settled in my stomach as I saw flashes of Cleo's death returning to haunt me, holding her limp, bloodied body as I cried.

"Who are you?" I demanded, shaking my head, breaking the spell he tried to put me under. Will and Luke didn't look much better off, their faces ashen.

The man threw his head back and laughed humorlessly. "So, you are as impertinent as my brethren say you are! It's truly refreshing!" He shook his head, the corners of his mouth quirking upwards into a cruel sneer. "I am Menoetius, Titan of anger, rash actions, and mortality, which is perfectly fitting, because none of you will get out of here alive."

I stood in an alleyway, my head tilted upwards as I allowed the deluge of the rain to soak me thoroughly. The chilliness of the freezing water had the cold sinking into my very bones, and though I violently trembled, I made no move to get out of the rain.

I held my hands out in front of me, palms facing skyward, letting the rain wash my hands of the blood on them. I refused to watch the way that the water would take on a pinkish tinge in my palms, swirling on the surface of my skin for a few moments before slipping through my fingers.

"Andy, you have to get out of the rain," Will pleaded, his voice tight. He brushed some droplets off his face, water soaking through the top half of his shirt. "You're going to get sick."

I didn't reply. Instead, I rubbed my hands together like I was washing them, brushing them against the side of my pants once I was satisfied with their cleanliness.

"I know you're a goddess," he continued, "but the gods can still get sick. Dad told me about the time...You know what, he wouldn't want you to be acting like this. He made his choice, and now we have to live with his decision."

"How can you know that?" I exclaimed, rubbing my hands against my jeans with newfound fervor. Suddenly, the sight of his blood on my hands made me sick to my stomach. I had to get it off, now. "How could he?"

I felt Will place a hand on my shoulder, his sky blue eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "Because he loved us – he loved you. He didn't want..." Will swallowed hard, looking up at the sky, allowing for the rain to fall on his face.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted," I snapped, my voice cracking at the end. "Because I didn't give him a choice!"

"This isn't your fault."

I whirled around, feeling like my heart was going to explode from the sheer amount of anger and grief I felt at the moment. It was as if barbed wire had been wrapped around my chest, and now someone was yanking the wire, tearing open hundreds of old scars and opening hundreds of new ones as well. I couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think straight.

"This is my fault. IT'S ALL MY FAULT!"

I fell to my knees, my arms wrapped so tightly around myself that it was if they were the only things keeping me from falling apart. Despite wanting nothing more than to burst into tears, my eyes remained dry. I roughly dug my nails into my arms, but that didn't so much as elicit reaction tears.

This was a new kind of numbness.

I wish I had never learned what this felt like.

"Oh gods," I gasped, "he's gone. Will, he's gone."

"I know," Will said, holding me tight. "I know."

As I shook, I started rewinding the past hour in my mind, trying to figure out how things went so horribly wrong so quickly. Meeting Menoetius had been the breaking point, but even then, if it had just been me, then maybe...

Menoetius had us cornered, there was no other way around it. The sewer reeked of festering garbage and human waste. The water sluggishly sloshed alongside our feet, the darkness overwhelming if not for the few emergency lights scattered here and there.

Epithymia provided most of the light in the room, illuminating the terrifying face of Menoetius. I could make out the jagged scars crisscrossing his haggard face, his nose bent out of shape as if someone had broken it one too many times, his lips thin and pulled into a cruel sneer.

"It's hilarious you think you'll leave this place alive," he laughed, drumming one meaty hand along the hilt of his unsheathed blade. "Did you really think Tartarus would leave some blundering idiot as the guard to the Doors of Death? How stupid can you be?"

"You can claim to hurt us all you want," I said boldly, summoning my hunting knives, "but according to the Ancient Laws, you cannot harm heroes unless they strike first. As we have yet to attack, you are not permitted to kill us."

Menoetius threw his head back with raucous laughter. It echoed off the metal walls, reverberating like a sickening, almost hypnotic pulse sending shivers down my spine. "I know of the Ancient Laws, runt!" he declared. "And I never had the intention of breaking them. I will not kill you."

He pointed directly at Luke, my heart skipping a beat. "He will."

"What do you mean?" Will asked, tightly gripping the bow in his hands. "Luke's on our side. He'd never hurt us!"

At that moment, Menoetius snapped his fingers, and Luke fell to his knees, Epithymia clattering out of his grasp. A strangled cry escaped from his lips as he wrapped his arms tightly around his chest, purplish smoke oozing out of his arms, neck, and torso. All the while, Menoetius laughed, watching as I crouched by Luke's side, trying to undo whatever that Titan did to him.

When Luke fell still, I took hold of his arm, failing to hide my gasp when I saw the dark black lines etched deeply into his skin. It was as if a tattoo artist had drunkenly attempted to draw a river from Luke's shoulder to his wrist, the lines jaggedly carved into his flesh. They were the same black lines I'd seen the first time I dreamt about him in Tartarus, those briar-like designs. Purple smoke curled off the edges of the lines, hissing whenever my hand got too close.

"Boy," Menoetius said, causing Luke to jump to his feet, scooping Epithymia into his hands.

My stomach dropped to the Underworld. "Luke, no," I whispered, tightening my grip on my knives. The weapons on my bracelet were all I had right now, my powers out of the question.

"And to make sure this is a fair fight," the monster continued. He shot his hand out, slamming Will harshly against the wall, allowing for the weakened son of Apollo to collapse into a lifeless heap on the floor, the bow falling from his slackened hands. "There, now no one can interfere. Kill her!"

"Yes, Master," Luke replied coldly, robotically, lifelessly.

He lunged forward with unimaginable speed, something that shouldn't have been physically possible thanks to the condition Tartarus left him in. The boy who said he loved me in Tartarus no longer stood before me, his blue eyes glazed over with complete and utter blood lust and rage.

I parried his attacks, refusing to take the offensive. Luke was still in there, and I wasn't going to hurt him because of whatever spell Menoetius or Tartarus had him under.

"Luke, snap out of it!" I cried, biting the inside of my cheek when the blade that I've wielded since I was sixteen sliced my thigh open, ichor welling up around the broken skin. "I'm not going to hurt you!"

Our blades met in the middle, the harsh sound of metal scraping against metal ringing in my ears. I took the opportunity to kick Luke on the side of his leg, forcing his knee to bend inward. I'd almost disarmed him, too, when he pulled back, making a wild slash towards my neck that nearly took off my head.

"You can try and talk to him all you want," Menoetius crooned as I struggled to keep blocking Luke's blows. The two of us have been training with each other for the better part of ten years – we knew each other's tricks, strengths, and weaknesses. Of anyone I've ever fought solely hand-to-hand, Luke was my toughest opponent. "But he won't hear you."

"He's right here and has ears!"I shouted, grunting as Luke landed another blow, reopening an old wound on my left bicep. "He can hear, but he won't listen! Get your facts straight!"

"You stupid, foolish girl!" Menoetius said. "The boy you loved has been under my control ever since Tartarus let me have a go at him. What do you think those black lines are?"

"No."

He had to be lying, trying to throw me off my rhythm so that Luke could run me through.

But...Apollo and Hermes had taught me how to recognize a lie, spending weeks on this one skill. I knew I'd felt uneasy ever since I first laid eyes on those stupid black briar-like lines, but I'd never thought...

Was this what Luke had tried to hide from me?

If that was the case, how had Menoetius been so successful in keeping Luke quiet? Why hadn't Luke shown me earlier? Menoetius didn't seem like the brightest light bulb and had he sided with the gods, I could see him and Ares getting along like two very aggressive, macho peas in one swole pod.

"I grow bored," he told Luke, having the audacity to yawn. "End this."

"With pleasure, Master."

Okay, so parrying for the rest of my life clearly wasn't feasible anymore, I guess incapacitating it is.

What happened next...I will never forgive myself.

I don't think I ever can.

I parried a strike with one hand, turning my other hand inward so that the pommel of the knife pointed toward Luke. My plan had been to strike the pommel down against his solar plexus to then knock him out with a blow to the head, but as my hand neared his solar plexus, he gave one swift kick to the back of my bad knee.

I should've done a backward roll like I'd trained to do a million times in this situation. I should've fallen flat on my back and fought my way back onto my feet. Hell, I should've allowed my blade to be sheathed in my body rather than what I did. I should've, I should've, I should've...

Instead, my feet left the ground as I swung both my arms in one grand sweeping motion, feeling my knives carve through human flesh, before landing in the water with a splash. I heard the unmistakable sound of a sword hitting the stone cold floor underfoot.

"Ha, I like this outcome even better!" Menoetius gave one last laugh before vanishing from the sewer, leaving us alone.

"Andy?" Luke asked feebly, his voice normal once again, the purple glow dissipating. He reached up to touch the wounds I'd created and looked down at the blood on his hands.

He crumpled to the ground next to Will. I dropped my knives, rushing out of the water to his side. I tore off a chunk of fabric from my shirt, pressing it tightly against Luke's neck, trying to staunch the bleeding coming from his carotid artery.

"Shush, you're going to be okay," I said, ignoring the adrenaline sending my heart pounding, blurring my vision, sending shockwaves of pain arcing across my knee. I tried to use the scummy water to heal him – bacteria and possible infection be damned – only to release a strangled cry of pain.

My vision swam, but that didn't stop me from trying again.

I couldn't, I wouldn't give up.

I went to dunk my hands in the water another time, stopping when Luke's hand rested atop mine.

"Hey, hey, look at me," he spoke softly, carefully lifting and moving our hands to his face. I traced his cheekbone with the pad of my thumb, gently guiding his baby blue eyes to meet mine.

"I'm s-sorry," he wheezed, his lips tinged red with blood, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I...love..." He coughed violently, blood dribbling out from the corner of his mouth, trailing down to his neck. He gave one last rattled breath and his chest stilled, the exhale simultaneously the quietest and loudest sound in the whole sewer.

"I love you, too."

I buried my face against Luke's chest and sobbed.

And that brings us up to speed, with my trying to wash all of Luke's blood off of me while Will begged me to get out of the rain. Will was soaked to the bone, his shirt clinging to his chest, dried blood turning pink on his skin as it mingled with the freezing water. He trembled just as severely as I did, though I had a feeling the cold had something to do with it as well.

As much as it hurt, I couldn't fall to pieces just yet. I needed to make sure Will got back to camp safely, then I could leave and tear apart that bastard of an earth goddess myself.

"Star!" I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth, my voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley.

Within seconds, Star arrived, having been up in the air when I called for her. Apparently, she sensed my distress and had been on the way to find me. All I did was make the job easier.

You don't look so good, boss, she said, lowering herself so that Will and I could mount her. Where have you been?

"Hell," I muttered as Star took off, soaring up past the storm clouds so that the rain no longer assaulted us. "We were in Hell."

Above the clouds, the temperature exponentially dropped. Despite Will not wanting me to use any of my powers, I allowed myself to summon heat through my torso and pulled Will tightly against my chest, allowing some of my warmth to transfer into him. Preventing potential pneumonia due to my selfishness was the least I could do for Will in the given circumstances.

Star remained quiet for a long time, not asking any questions, merely taking us back to camp as quickly as her wings could flap. She'd told me that she didn't want to go supersonic in our conditions, where we were barely hanging on as it was, and that she'd sent a message ahead to the other pegasi to alert Chiron that we were on our way back.

"You are the best pegasus alive," I said, affectionately petting her side as we continued to fly.

Don't let Blackjack hear you say that, she warned, a hint of amusement evident in her tone.

"I'll just give him a doughnut, and he'll be over it."

Well, you're not wrong.

"What are you talking about?" Will asked, his teeth no longer chattering.

"Blackjack."

"I'm sorry, who?"

"Percy's pegasus," I answered, listening to Star as she laughed, Ha! I knew that Blackjack wasn't as popular as he brags to be!

"What does he say?" I asked Star.

He thinks that just because he helped Percy Jackson he's the best pegasus in camp. If only he knew about the things we did together, oh, that would end his bragging.

"You're just ragging on him so much because he's your brother."

Possibly. But still! We've done amazing things, too, and you don't hear me blabbing about it to every pegasus I come across.

"Most of the things we do are supposed to be kept secret, that's why you don't blab."

And I'm a humble pegasus, too.

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever you say, Star."

Hey! I take great offense to that! Star indignantly whinnied. By the way, we're almost at camp.

I relayed the message to Will, who looked so exhausted that if it wasn't for my grip on his waist, I'm sure he would've fallen off somewhere over the Bronx by now. The full extent of what had happened in Tartarus and in the Doors of Death was finally setting in, Will's eyes glazed over as the horrors of what he'd seen and experienced flashed through his mind. He was in so much mental anguish that from the little physical connection I had between the two of us, I could pick up flashes of his memories, bright, violent images coming to life before my very eyes.

Stay awake, boss, Star goaded, the speed around us picking up as she pulled us into a nearly vertical dive. We're almost there.

"I'm okay," I groaned, holding onto Star's mane hard enough that I wasn't going to fall off but soft enough that I wasn't causing her any discomfort. "He's in so much pain that it's beginning to affect me."

How you didn't become the goddess of empathy is beyond my understanding. Star broke through the rain clouds once again, the freezing precipitation jolting me into full alertness as it felt like a thousand needles had been stabbed into my skin. As for Will, he stayed in a semi-conscious state, incoherently muttering under his breath, his eyes unfocused, staring at everything and nothing all at once.

Once we were back on the ground, everything went by in such a blur that I still have trouble remembering exact details to this day. I remember sliding off Star's back, Will dangling limply in my arms as I staggered towards the infirmary, Star by my side until some camper grabbed hold of my arm, guiding me.

I know that now, but at the time, I was so paranoid that I whirled around and punched the camper in the face, sending them staggering backward. Other campers tried to help, to take Will out of my hands, but I refused to let anyone get close to us. I'm pretty sure at one point I set Will down and pulled out Epithymia, prepared to strike at anyone who tried to approach us.

The last thing I remember was something sharp piercing the side of my leg before I crumpled into a heap on top of Will.