The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

mean … Annabeth is right!’ Percy volunteered. ‘Bob brought us all this way because he thought you could help. But I guess you’re too busy staring at that shield and crying. I can’t blame you. It looks just like you.’
    Akhlys wailed and glared at the Titan. ‘Why did you inflict these annoying children on me?’
    Bob made a sound somewhere between a rumble and a whimper. ‘I thought – I thought –’
    ‘The Death Mist is not for
helping
!’ Akhlys shrieked. ‘It shrouds mortals in misery as their souls pass into the Underworld. It is the very breath of Tartarus, of death, of despair!’
    ‘Awesome,’ Percy said. ‘Could we get two orders of that to go?’
    Akhlys hissed. ‘Ask me for a more sensible gift. I am also the goddess of poisons. I could give you death – thousands of ways to die less painful than the one you have chosen by marching into the heart of the pit.’
    Around the goddess, flowers bloomed in the dust – darkpurple, orange and red blossoms that smelled sickly sweet. Percy’s head swam.
    ‘Nightshade,’ Akhlys offered. ‘Hemlock. Belladonna, henbane or strychnine. I can dissolve your innards, boil your blood.’
    ‘That’s very nice of you,’ Percy said. ‘But I’ve had enough poison for one trip. Now, can you hide us in your Death Mist, or not?’
    ‘Yeah, it’ll be fun,’ Annabeth said.
    The goddess’s eyes narrowed.
‘
Fun?
’
    ‘Sure,’ Annabeth promised. ‘If we fail, think how great it will be for you, gloating over our spirits when we die in agony. You’ll get to say
I told you so
for eternity.’
    ‘Or, if we succeed,’ Percy added, ‘think of all the suffering you’ll bring to the monsters down here. We intend to seal the Doors of Death. That’s going to cause a lot of wailing and moaning.’
    Akhlys considered. ‘I enjoy suffering. Wailing is also good.’
    ‘Then it’s settled,’ Percy said. ‘Make us invisible.’
    Akhlys struggled to her feet. The shield of Hercules rolled away and wobbled to a stop in a patch of poison flowers. ‘It is not so simple,’ the goddess said. ‘The Death Mist comes at the moment you are closest to your end. Your eyes will be clouded only then. The world will fade.’
    Percy’s mouth felt dry. ‘Okay. But … we’ll be shrouded from the monsters?’
    ‘Oh, yes,’ Akhlys said. ‘If you survive the process, you will be able to pass unnoticed among the armies of Tartarus. It ishopeless, of course, but if you are determined, then come. I will show you the way.’
    ‘The way to where, exactly?’ Annabeth asked.
    The goddess was already shuffling into the gloom.
    Percy turned to look at Bob, but the Titan was gone. How does a ten-foot-tall silver dude with a very loud kitten disappear?
    ‘Hey!’ Percy yelled to Akhlys. ‘Where’s our friend?’
    ‘He cannot take this path,’ the goddess called back. ‘He is not mortal. Come, little fools. Come, experience the Death Mist.’
    Annabeth exhaled and grabbed his hand. ‘Well … how bad can it be?’
    The question was so ridiculous Percy laughed, even though it hurt his lungs. ‘Yeah. Next date, though – dinner in New Rome.’
    They followed the goddess’s dusty footprints through the poison flowers, deeper into the fog.

XLVII
     

PERCY
     
    P ERCY MISSED B OB.
    He’d got used to having the Titan on his side, lighting their way with his silver hair and his fearsome war broom.
    Now their only guide was an emaciated corpse lady with serious self-esteem issues.
    As they struggled across the dusty plain, the fog became so thick that Percy had to resist the urge to swat it away with his hands. The only reason he was able to follow Akhlys’s path was because poisonous plants sprang up wherever she walked.
    If they were still on the body of Tartarus, Percy figured they must be on the bottom of his foot – a rough, calloused expanse where only the most disgusting plant life grew.
    Finally they arrived at the end of the big toe. At least that’s what it looked like to Percy. The fog dissipated, and they found themselves on a peninsula that jutted out over a pitch-black void.
    ‘Here we are.’ Akhlys turned and leered at them. Bloodfrom her cheeks dripped on her dress. Her sickly eyes looked moist and swollen but somehow excited. Can Misery look excited?
    ‘Uh … great,’ Percy asked. ‘Where is
here
?’
    ‘The verge of final death,’ Akhlys said. ‘Where Night meets the void below Tartarus.’
    Annabeth inched forward and peered