The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

strife! I have caused all manner of death!’
    ‘I am darker still!’ snarled Geras. ‘I dim the eyes and addle the brain. Every mortal fears old age!’
    ‘Yeah, yeah,’ Annabeth said, trying to ignore her chatteringteeth. ‘I’m not seeing enough dark. I mean, you’re the children of Night! Show me dark!’
    The horde of
arai
wailed, flapping their leathery wings and stirring up clouds of blackness. Geras spread his withered hands and dimmed the entire abyss. Eris breathed a shadowy spray of buckshot across the void.
    ‘I am the darkest!’ hissed one of the demons.
    ‘No, I!’
    ‘No! Behold my darkness!’
    If a thousand giant octopuses had squirted ink at the same time, at the bottom of the deepest, most sunless ocean trench, it could not have been blacker. Annabeth might as well have been blind. She gripped Percy’s hand and steeled her nerves.
    ‘Wait!’ Nyx called, suddenly panicked. ‘I can’t see anything.’
    ‘Yes!’ shouted one of her children proudly. ‘I did that!’
    ‘No, I did!’
    ‘Fool, it was me!’
    Dozens of voices argued in the darkness.
    The horses whinnied in alarm.
    ‘Stop it!’ Nyx yelled. ‘Whose foot is that?’
    ‘Eris is hitting me!’ cried someone. ‘Mother, tell her to stop hitting me!’
    ‘I did
not!
’ yelled Eris. ‘Ouch!’
    The sounds of scuffling got louder. If possible, the darkness became even deeper. Annabeth’s eyes dilated so much, they felt like they were being pulled out of their sockets.
    She squeezed Percy’s hand. ‘Ready?’
    ‘For what?’ After a pause, he grunted unhappily. ‘Poseidon’s underpants, you can’t be serious.’
    ‘Somebody give me light!’ Nyx screamed. ‘Gah! I can’t believe I just said that!’
    ‘It’s a trick!’ Eris yelled. ‘The demigods are escaping!’
    ‘I’ve got them,’ screamed an
arai
.
    ‘No, that’s my neck!’ Geras gagged.
    ‘Jump!’ Annabeth told Percy.
    They leaped into the darkness, aiming for the doorway far, far below.

LV
     

ANNABETH
     
    A FTER THEIR FALL INTO T ARTARUS, jumping three hundred feet to the Mansion of Night should have felt quick.
    Instead, Annabeth’s heart seemed to slow down. Between the beats she had ample time to write her own obituary.
    Annabeth Chase, died age 17.
    BA-BOOM.
    (Assuming her birthday, July 12, had passed while she was in Tartarus, but, honestly, she had no idea.)
    BA-BOOM.
    Died of massive injuries while leaping like an idiot into the abyss of Chaos and splattering on the entry hall floor of Nyx’s mansion.
    BA-BOOM.
    Survived by her father, stepmother and two stepbrothers who barely knew her.
    BA-BOOM.
    In lieu of flowers, please send donations to Camp Half-Blood, assuming Gaia hasn’t already destroyed it.
    Her feet hit solid floor. Pain shot up her legs, but she stumbled forward and broke into a run, hauling Percy after her.
    Above them in the dark, Nyx and her children scuffled and yelled, ‘I’ve got them! My foot! Stop it!’
    Annabeth kept running. She couldn’t see anyway, so she closed her eyes. She used her other senses – listening for the echo of open spaces, feeling for cross-breezes against her face, sniffing for any scent of danger – smoke or poison or the stench of demons.
    It wasn’t the first time she’d plunged through darkness. She imagined she was back in the tunnels under Rome, searching out the Athena Parthenos. In retrospect, her journey to Arachne’s cavern seemed like a trip to Disneyland.
    The squabbling sounds of Nyx’s children got further away. That was good. Percy was still running at her side, holding her hand. Also good.
    In the distance ahead of them, Annabeth began to hear a throbbing sound, like her own heartbeat echoing back, amplified so powerfully the floor vibrated underfoot. The sound filled her with dread, so she figured it must be the right way to go. She ran towards it.
    As the beat got louder, she smelled smoke and heard the flickering of torches on either side. She guessed there would be light, but a crawling sensation across her neck warned her it would be a mistake to open her eyes.
    ‘Don’t look,’ she told Percy.
    ‘Wasn’t planning on it,’ he said. ‘You can feel that, right? We’re still in the Mansion of Night. I do
not
want to see it.’
    Smart boy, Annabeth thought. She used to tease Percy for being dumb, but in truth his instincts were usually right on target.
    Whatever horrors lay in the Mansion of Night, they weren’t meant for mortal eyes. Seeing them