The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

sigh. ‘I
told
them to hang on to their tickets. Double Red! You’ll lose your place in the queue!’
    Annabeth was in position, right behind Hyperion. She raised her drakon-bone sword over the base of the chains. In the fiery light of the Titan’s armour, her Death Mist disguise made her look like a burning ghoul.
    She held up three fingers, ready to count down. They had to cut the chains before the next group tried to take the elevator, but they also had to make sure the Titans were as distracted as possible.
    Hyperion muttered a curse. ‘Just
wonderful
. This will completely mess up our schedule.’ He sneered at Bob. ‘Make your choice, brother. Fight us or help us. I don’t have time for your lectures.’
    Bob glanced at Annabeth and Percy. Percy thought he might start a fight, but instead he raised the point of his spear. ‘Very well. I will take guard duty. Which of you wants a break first?’
    ‘Me, of course,’ Hyperion said.
    ‘Me!’ Krios snapped. ‘I’ve been holding that button so long my thumb is going to fall off.’
    ‘I’ve been standing here longer,’ Hyperion grumbled. ‘You two guard the Doors while
I
go up to the mortal world. I have some Greek heroes to wreak vengeance upon!’
    ‘Oh, no!’ Krios complained. ‘That Roman boy is on his way to Epirus – the one who killed me on Mount Othrys. Got lucky, he did. Now it’s my turn.’
    ‘Bah!’ Hyperion drew his sword. ‘I’ll gut you first, Ram-head!’
    Krios raised his own blade. ‘You can try, but I won’t be stuck in this stinking pit any longer!’
    Annabeth caught Percy’s eyes. She mouthed:
One, two
–
    Before he could strike the chains, a high-pitched whine pierced his ears, like the sound of an incoming rocket. Percy just had time to think:
Uh-oh.
Then an explosion rocked the hillside. A wave of heat knocked Percy backwards. Dark shrapnel ripped through Krios and Hyperion, shredding them as easily as wood in a chipper.
    STINKING PIT.
A hollow voice rolled across the plains, shaking the warm fleshy ground.
    Bob staggered to his feet. Somehow the explosion hadn’t touched him. He swept his spear in front of him, trying to locate the source of the voice. Small Bob the kitten crawled into his coveralls.
    Annabeth had landed about twenty feet from the Doors. When she stood, Percy was so relieved she was alive it took him a moment to realize she looked like herself. The Death Mist had evaporated.
    He looked at his own hands. His disguise was gone too.
    TITANS
, said the voice disdainfully.
LESSER BEINGS. IMPERFECT AND WEAK.
    In front of the Doors of Death, the air darkened and solidified. The being who appeared was so massive, radiating such pure malevolence, that Percy wanted to crawl away and hide.
    Instead, he forced his eyes to trace the god’s form, starting with his black iron boots, each one as large as a coffin. His legs were covered in dark greaves; his flesh all thick purple muscle, like the ground. His armoured skirt was made from thousands of blackened, twisted bones, woven together like chain links and clasped in place by a belt of interlocking monstrous arms.
    On the surface of the warrior’s breastplate, murky faces appeared and submerged – giants, Cyclopes, gorgons and drakons – all pressing against the armour as if trying to get out.
    The warrior’s arms were bare – muscular, purple and glistening – his hands as large as crane scoops.
    Worst of all was his head: a helmet of twisted rock and metal with no particular shape – just jagged spikes and pulsing patches of magma. His entire face was a whirlpool – an inward spiral of darkness. As Percy watched, the last particles of Titan essence from Hyperion and Krios were vacuumed into the warrior’s maw.
    Somehow Percy found his voice. ‘Tartarus.’
    The warrior made a sound like a mountain cracking in half: a roar or a laugh, Percy couldn’t be sure.
    This form is only a small manifestation of my power
, said thegod.
But it is enough to deal with you. I do not interfere lightly, little demigod. It is beneath me to deal with gnats such as yourself.
    ‘Uh …’ Percy’s legs threatened to collapse under him. ‘Don’t … you know … go to any trouble.’
    You have proven surprisingly resilient
, Tartarus said.
You have come too far. I can no longer stand by and watch your progress.
    Tartarus spread his arms. Throughout the valley, thousands of monsters wailed and roared, clashing their weapons and bellowing in triumph. The