Eighteen days.
I had eighteen days in mortal world time to traverse the nightmare known as Tartarus and get my butt through the Doors of Death to Epirus. This time, I'd properly shut the Doors and flip off Tartarus and any of my Titan uncles who tried to get in my way.
But this time, I couldn't count on Salina bailing me out. If things got rough, I might have to call Bob.
Gods of Olympus, I hope that's not the case. I don't want him to spend another unnecessary minute here.
I spent my nine days of free fall listening in on the charm chats. Since I was their creator, I had access to all the channels, private or not. Obviously, I didn't stay in a chat if it was something personal, but a girl had to keep sane somehow when falling into Hell.
Why did she do that? Percy asked, currently in a chat with Annabeth. She could've saved herself. But she smiled at us and threw herself back into Tartarus.
Call me crazy, but I have this horrible sensation that she took our place. We were supposed to close the Doors, Annabeth said. She wanted to protect us.
I've been having those thoughts too. The Oracle must've shown her something. That must be why she teleported us to the Argo II.
Their chat was promptly interrupted by Nico commandeering all the connections and saying, Everyone better be sacrificing a portion of their food to Andy from here on out. She's a goddess; sacrifices make her stronger. She'll need all the help she can get if we want to see her again in our lifetimes.
Wow, Nico, ye of little faith.
Did he have a point? Yes.
Did he manage to bruise my ego? Also, yes.
I'd put off Hera's advice of receiving offerings for the greater part of six months and had paid the price for it. I'd gladly swallow my pride if it meant not having to become Tartarus's favorite throw pillow again.
As with the first time I arrived via the Falling Express™, the air grew hotter and damper, as if I was plummeting into the throat of a massive dragon. The darkness took on a gray-red tinge. The whistling wind transformed into a roar. The air became intolerably hot, permeated with the delectable scent of rotten eggs.
The chute I'd been falling through opened into a vast cavern. Red clouds hung in the air like vaporized blood. The landscape was rocky black plains, punctuated by jagged mountains and fiery chasms. To my left, the ground dropped off in a series of cliffs, like colossal steps leading deeper into the abyss. The stench of sulfur made it hard to concentrate, but if I pushed past the acrid stench and poisonous air, I could make out a ribbon of glittering black liquid directly below me.
After pinching my nose and mentally shouting "Cowabunga!", I plunged into the Cocytus. The drastic temperature change punched the air out of my lungs. My limbs turned to lead in the frigid waters. The weeping, whispering voices of the river were far worse than the cold. For a fleeting moment, I feared that Cocytus' river nymph would appear with Luke's soul in tow despite having set his soul free.
If his soul could be stolen once, who was to say it wouldn't happen again?
Stop fighting the current, the voices wailed. Everything you've done has been pointless. You repeat a futile cycle in the hopes of changing the outcome. You're as useless as the rest of us.
Jesus Christ, someone get these souls to therapy ASAP. I'm sure there's someone in the Underworld who would jump at the chance to talk to those confined to the literal River of Lamentation.
The thought of a therapist setting up shop in Tartarus caught me so off guard that I laughed. As my overactive imagination built an entire enterprise on the banks of the Cocytus, complete with the waiting area where you have to fill out a thousand forms and probably sign over your firstborn child, I burst into hysterics.
Was this most likely a trauma response to being back in Tartarus? Yup.
Maybe I'd need therapy after all of this was done.
The sound of my laughter was enough to send a shockwave through the river, blasting back the wails and moans of the damned souls. I finally turned my attention and energy to getting out of this freezing river.
My muscles protested the movement. I told them to shut up and to keep swimming. Ares's idea of strength and conditioning had been worse than this. The fact that I could stand on my feet by the time I exited the river proved my point.
Oh, how I missed the crunchy glass floor. Nothing like a terrain that gave away your position at all times unless you could somehow fly.
I traversed the black-glass beach until I reached the baby-blue Fiat, roughly fifty yards away from where I'd walked out of the Cocytus. Crashing hood first into anything at a fast enough velocity could really damage a car, but this Fiat was in worse shape than your typical head-on collision. I guess that's the beauty of terminal velocity.
One of the car's tires had come off and was floating in some backwater eddy of the Cocytus. The Fiat's windows had shattered, sending brighter glass-like frosting across the dark beach. Under the crushed hood lay the tattered, glistening remains of a giant silk cocoon – the trap that Annabeth had tricked Arachne into weaving. It was unmistakably empty. Slash marks in the sand made a trail downriver, as if something heavy, with multiple legs, had scuttled into the darkness.
"Huh, so she made it out," I said, kicking at one of the intact tires. The this time around half of my thoughts remained unspoken. Here I was hoping that I wouldn't have to kill a Fiat sized spider-human.
Unlike my last trip down here, I had no need for discretion this time around. Everyone that I cared about was in the mortal world, safe from the terrors of this place. My ichor made me a walking target anyway, so might as well be an armed target.
I summoned my Stygian iron hunting knives and strapped them to sheaths along my thighs. They gave off the least amount of light and would cause the most amount of damage. At the moment, it really didn't matter what blade I chose since I'd need free hands to scale down the cliffside to reach the Phlegethon.
There was a monstrous spider-human in need of some serious payback.
My skin blistered something awful in this noxious atmosphere. No amount of lip balm could sufficiently rehydrate my cracked lips for the time being. Breathing felt like shards of glass slicing through delicate pleural tissue. Godly healing powers didn't do squat for minor injuries in a place that thrived off of monstrous energy. I ignored the uncomfortable stretch of taut and irritated skin as I descended the cliffside.
My palms were caked in a layer of ichor and gravel by the time I made it to the bottom. Luckily, the Phlegethon was right there. I wasted no time in kneeling next to the River of Fire and taking a handful of fiery water. It tasted just as horrible as I remembered – ghost chili pepper mixed with the earthiness of beets with an aftertaste that resembles the scent of gasoline.
Utterly disgusting.
I shuddered as the river's healing properties took effect, clearing up the most painful blisters and making breathing less painful.
Within a matter of nanoseconds, I got into position with my knife at Arachne's throat. She'd made no attempt to hide her approach – snarling and sprinting toward me with deadly barbed legs and glinting eyes. The sharp inhale as her eight eyes took a good look at me let me know that I wasn't who she'd been expecting.
Arachne had a sickly sweet odor clinging to her. It reminded me of chloroform.
No bueno.
"You," she exhaled, eyeing the knife at her throat. "You are not the daughter of Athena."
"Did the lack of blonde hair give me away?"
She hissed, but instantly backed down as I pressed the knife slightly deeper. Not enough to kill, but enough to cause extreme discomfort given the fact that it was Stygian iron.
"My grievance isn't with you, girl," Arachne spat. "Let me go, and I shall make your death quick. It would be a mercy to die by my bite."
"Well, you see, death isn't really an option," I said. "Plus, you terrorized one of my best friends. If anyone's dying tonight-"
I struck my second knife through Arachne's unprotected abdomen and twisted the blade for good measure.
She wailed, hissed, and cursed before disintegrating into golden dust.
"-it's you."
If it wasn't for the time crunch and my inability to use my chronokinesis in Tartarus, I would've made Arachne suffer for everything she was worth. She deserved so much worse for terrorizing Annabeth in any capacity.
My journey quickly grew tedious as I stalked a group of empousai, led by none other than the head cheerleader herself, Kelli.
God, I haven't thought about her in over a year. The only ever "conservation" we had was when she told Kyle and Holly that Kronos could use me as his vessel if they failed to find enough recruits. Even then, I don't think she and I had an in-person encounter.
I trailed far enough behind them, making sure to angle myself downwind so that they didn't notice me at first. That meant I got to watch the gaggle of empousai devour some poor monster's carcass by the riverbank with a gusto that left my stomach in knots. I've seen my fair share of absurd and violent acts, but there's something about watching teenage girls tear into rotted meat with razor sharp talons and teeth that is deeply unsettling.
Crouched behind this boulder, waiting for the empousai to finish getting their fill, left me with a feeling of dread. By standing in one place, I could feel the steady thrumming of the ground underfoot – Tartarus' heartbeat.
He must've sensed my return to his domain by this point. I wouldn't be surprised if he'd sent out his strongest assassins since I first crossed the threshold between the mortal world and Tartarus. They could be mere minutes or hours away from finding me, and I'd have no clue.
This time around, I refused to be held his captive.
I peeked around the boulder and swore under my breath. In the three seconds I'd been in my thoughts, the group of empousai had vanished.
I'd been made.
Knives in hand, I strolled into the open plain separating the previous cliffside to the next one I'd need to descend. By following the Phlegethon, I'd eventually reach the Central Wastelands where I'd hopefully find Damasen. Ideally, I'd convince him to leave this place with me, but that was a thought for a later time.
"Yeah, yeah, I know you're here," I said, gesturing to the various nooks and crannies in the area. "Let's get this over with."
The empousai emerged from the rocks all around me – five of them forming a ring. A perfect trap.
Kelli limped forward on her mismatched legs. Her fiery hair burned across her shoulders like a miniature Phlegethon waterfall. Her tattered cheerleader outfit was splattered with rusty-brown stains from her last meal. She fixed her glowing red eyes and bared her fangs at me.
"Andromeda Collins," she cooed. "How awesome! I don't even have to return to the mortal world to destroy you!"
"You've never had the opportunity to destroy me once."
Kelli growled. "Your father was a weakling – too afraid to discipline his wayward daughter. If I had my way, you would be stuck in a regeneration bubble for eternity!"
I gave a mirthless laugh. "Funnily enough, I could say the same to you."
I eyed the other empousai as they circled, watching Kelli for a cue to attack; but the ex-cheerleader only snarled, crouching out of reach of my knives.
"You know, ladies, I have to ask why you chose to follow Kelli of all empousai. She failed to bring my father to power, and she's been gone for too long. She has no idea what's going on in the mortal world."
"We know enough," Kelli said. "Gaea has spoken."
"Ever heard of an unreliable narrator?" Two of the empousai cocked their heads to the side. "You're heading toward a major defeat. This one claims she's leading you to a victory. She's lying. The last time she was in the mortal world, Kelli was in charge of keeping Kyle faithful to Kronos – my father. In the end, Kyle gave his life to expel my father. The Titans lost because Kelli failed. Now she wants to lead you to another disaster."
The others muttered and shifted uneasily.
"Enough!" Kelli's fingernails grew into long black talons. She glared at me like she wanted to slice me into small pieces.
"The girl lies," Kelli said. "So the Titans lost. Fine! That was part of the plan to wake Gaea! Now the Earth Mother and her giants will destroy the mortal world, and we will totally feast on demigods!"
The other vampires gnashed their teeth in a frenzy of excitement. I'd been in the middle of a school of sharks when the water was full of blood (thanks, Poseidon, for that little field trip). That wasn't nearly as unsettling as empousai ready to feed.
"You truly are as out of the loop as I feared," I said, shaking my head. I made a huge fuss of turning over my forearm to expose my SPQR tattoo. "The demigods have united. Greeks and Romans are friends."
"Romani," The empousai hissed, backing up nervously.
"And," I continued, "Hecate's allegiance to Olympus has been renewed. She has a cabin at Camp Half-Blood. I'm friends with some of her demigod children. If you fight on the side of the Earth Mother, you will anger her."
One of the empousai growled. "Is this true, Kelli? Has our mistress made peace with Olympus?"
"Shut up, Serephone!" Kelli screeched. "Gods, you're annoying!"
"I will not cross the Dark Lady."
"You'd all be better following Serephone," I said. "She's older and wiser."
"Yes!" Serephone shrieked. "Follow me!"
Kelli struck so fast that even I was impressed. Kelli lashed out at Serephone. For half a second, the two demons were a blur of slashing claws and fangs.
Then it was over. Kelli stood triumphant over a pile of dust. From her claws hung the tattered remains of Serephone's dress.
"Any more issues?" Kelli snapped at her sisters.
"I have one: your existence."
I didn't give the demons a chance to understand. I cut through the remaining three empousai as if they were melted butter. A quick scuffle with Kelli ended with me pining her to the ground, the tip of my knife hovering above the point in her sternum where Annabeth had killed her two years ago.
She snarled and tried to buck her hips upward. When she thrashed too hard and stabbed herself with my knife, she stilled and grimaced. She hadn't cut herself deep enough to disintegrate, but the expression on her face told me that this wasn't a pleasant experience for her.
"Go to Hell." Kelli spat in my face for good measure.
"Already there. Say hello to my grandmother, would you?"
I plunged my knife into her chest, the blade glowing purple as it consumed her essence.
"That was for blowing up Paul's school."
I paused to wipe Kelli's saliva off my face and yanked my hunting knife out of the ground. So far, I was two for two in killing monsters that had harassed my friends. That meant that I was on track to reach the Doors by my deadline.
Up next, the fallen shrine of Hermes.
Being trailed by Nyx's children was such a pain in the ass. You think that they would've gotten the memo the first time around, but these suckers could hold grudges longer than Hades.
However, there was one godly signature exuding malicious energy in particular. My shoulders preemptively ached. He must've been thrilled at the thought of hunting me down a second time. Seriously, what was it with male gods and finding a thrill in chasing women? It never ended well for those involved.
The journey to the shrine was largely uneventful save for the lingering gods that wanted their pound of flesh. Maybe it was the fact that I could see the air vaporize and the ground boil, or maybe it was sheer terror, but I found myself singing as I traversed this wretched place. My lips cracked and my throat burned, but it provided a false sense of security.
Who knows? Maybe I could convince others that I'd finally cracked and they'd leave me alone.
By the time I reached the shrine, my body ached something awful. It definitely wasn't as bad as the times Delphi had hijacked my mind, but in the grand scheme of things, that wasn't much of a reassurance. I set wards around the shrine before taking a seat on the uneven stone pillars around the base. My feet throbbed. A tension headache pounded at my temples. A part of me wished to rip out my fire abilities if only to feel less feverish.
My arrival to Hermes's shrine couldn't have been timed better if I tried. I got there in time to watch the burnt offerings appear in a cloud of smoke: half a hot dog, some grapes, a plate of roast beef, and a package of peanut M&M's.
My stomach made its presence known, loudly grumbling at the scent of the spicy sweet glaze wafting off the roast beef. I'd be crazy to turn down any decent grub in this place. I established some basic protection wards and took a seat by the shrine.
Hermes would probably be upset by the next thing I did, but I'm sure he'd find it in his heart to forgive me given my situation. A small fire roared in my palm as I burnt the half a hot dog as a sacrifice to Salina. She needed strength far more than I did.
I hope she's doing okay.
I scarfed down the still steaming plate of roast beef and the grapes. I stashed the M&M's for later. Even in Tartarus, chocolate could be a useful bargaining chip.
With the spare napkin sent among the offerings, I wrote an equivalent to the note Annabeth sent Rachel in the original timeline. As I wrote the note, I expanded my senses beyond the shrine and felt the malicious energies growing closer. There was still one who was so much closer than the rest of his brethren.
I pressed my hands to the ground and reinforced the wards. I needed to rest before starting my trek through the Dark Lands toward Damasen's place. Ideally, that would be my last stopping point before pushing through the Mansion of Night toward the Doors of Death. If Akhlys crossed my path at some point and she just so happened to fall into a pit of her most potent poison, well, what happens in Tartarus stays in Tartarus.
With those happy thoughts in mind, I drifted off to sleep at the foot of the shrine.
My nap and shockingly dreamless sleep were rudely interrupted by the sound of someone pounding against my wards. I dusted the glass shards from my clothing and got to my feet, knives in hand as I approached my unwelcomed guest.
He had cleaned up since the last time our paths crossed. Gone were the blood stains and pink patches of dried blood in his otherwise white hair. His white tunic looked as spotless as the day it had been made. His leather belt, sandals, and hilt gleamed as if he had taken the time to scrub them with polish. The one thing that remained constant was his rusty dagger, which he still tossed around with reckless abandon despite the bloodless gashed opening along his palms.
"Fun little party trick you got going on here," Poine said, stabbing the outermost ward with the tip of his dagger.
The blade flew out of his hand and landed a few feet away. When he summoned it back to his hand, the tip of the dagger had shattered, leaving a jagged edge in its place.
"A fully functional party trick," I added, gesturing to his now circumcised weapon.
Poine mirthlessly laughed. "You are a fool for daring to return to this place. You should count your lucky stars that I found you first. At least I understand the meaning of the word 'mercy.'"
My shoulders throbbed merely by being in this man's presence. "Somehow, I doubt that. You're the god of retribution and vengeance, or have you forgotten?"
"Stupid girl! I don't need you to remind me of my station." His nostrils flared as he slammed a fist against my wards yet again. His skin sizzled; the scent of burning flesh filled the sulfurous air. "The bounty for your head has increased tenfold. I will take great pleasure in dragging your worthless corpse to my mother's torture chamber. There will be nothing left to regenerate once the Pit has had his way with you."
"I can't be that worthless if the bounty has increased tenfold." I glanced down at my bracelet as if it were a watch. "Well, would you look at the time? I'm on a tight schedule and being kidnapped isn't in my itinerary. It was so nice to see you again!"
I turned on my heel as Poine cursed and yelled. I swear, all the wretched beings down here must've been masochists as the wards buzzed like an electric fence every time Poine punched them. Quickly enough, the scent of ichor became evident, but that wasn't enough to deter the bloodthirsty psycho.
You know what? Maybe it was time to indulge him.
I could imagine Nemesis chomping on popcorn in the background.
He made the first move as I dropped the wards. I parried the wild swing of his dagger with one knife and swiped across his chest with the other. He managed to pull back slightly but not fast enough to avoid the tail end of my attack. A thin line of gold became visible along the side of his ribs.
A nasty swear later and he was back at it again. I matched him blow for blow, managing to sneak in more hits as he fell further into his anger. His technique got sloppier until he overextended on a swing meant to stab me in the stomach. I swept him off his feet and pinned him to the ground by stabbing my knives into both his shoulders. He yowled and tried to kick me off.
"That doesn't feel so nice, does it?" I hissed, Epithymia springing to life in my hands.
"I deplore your existence!" Poine spat. He continued to struggle despite that only bringing him more pain.
"Back at you, murder boy. Now, if you would be so kind as to tell the other assassins and bounty hunters coming my way to back off, that would be much appreciated!"
"As if I'd ever do anything to help you!"
I glared down at Poine. "I am more than capable of helping myself. In fact, you're going to be a huge help to me whether you like it or not."
Shadow tendrils grew from the ground and wrapped around his limbs, splaying them apart as if he were a starfish. I took great pleasure in summoning six daggers and shoving them through his hips, ankles, and wrists while taking careful measures to slide the blades mere millimeters from the nearest artery. He shrieked and thrashed, but my shadows held him still and kept him quiet.
There was no need to alert the others of our location.
I stepped back to inspect my handiwork. Ichor welled around the entry wounds and sluggishly flowed toward the ground. Poine's eyes bulged out of his head as he continued to try and spit out the shadows keeping him from screaming bloody murder.
I pressed my hand in the center of his chest and branded my insignia on the front of his toga. There would be no question as to who left him in this sorry state.
Genuine fear flickered in his eyes as I kneeled by his head, dissipating the shadow gag with a wave of my hand. Good. Maybe this time he would learn his lesson.
"You are a monster," he heaved.
"And you are my warning."
With that, I pressed my fingers to my lips and let out the loudest wolf whistle I could manage. In seconds, howling and growling noises of nearby monsters filled the air. It wouldn't be long until they closed in on the wounded prey and ripped him to shreds.
Poine, realizing this, cursed and reflexively jerked his right arm. He screamed something awful as the blade bit into his radial artery, ichor gushing forth like a puncture wound in a high-powered hose. He had sealed his fate with a simple action.
I left Poine there to writhe in agony, continuing my journey through this hellish landscape. I had a little over six days to make it to the Doors of Death, and there was still so much ground to cover. I wouldn't allow someone as insignificant as him to waste any more of my precious time.
Roughly thirty minutes after leaving Hermes's shrine, I heard a sharp wail pierce the otherwise uneasy silence. It persisted for a few seconds before abruptly cutting off. The reappearance of my weapons as charms on my bracelet confirmed my suspicions.
One bounty hunter down, gods know how many left to go.