The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

I
really
can’t say. I can’t pronounce it! Tr – Tri – It’s too hard!’
    ‘Truh,’ Akmon said. ‘Tru-toh – Too many syllables!’
    They both burst into tears.
    Leo didn’t know if the Kerkopes were telling them the truth, but it was hard to stay mad at weeping dwarfs, no matter how annoying and badly dressed they were.
    Jason lowered his sword. ‘What do you want to do with them, Leo? Send them to Tartarus?’
    ‘Please, no!’ Akmon wailed. ‘It might take us weeks to come back.’
    ‘Assuming Gaia even lets us!’ Passalos sniffled. ‘She controls the Doors of Death now. She’ll be very cross with us.’
    Leo looked at the dwarfs. He’d fought lots of monsters before and never felt bad about dissolving them, but this was different. He had to admit he sort of admired these little guys. They played cool pranks and liked shiny things. Leo could relate. Besides, Percy and Annabeth were in Tartarus right now, hopefully still alive, trudging towards the Doors of Death. The idea of sending these twin monkey boys there to face the same nightmarish problem … well, it didn’t seem right.
    He imagined Gaia laughing at his weakness – a demigodtoo softhearted to kill monsters. He remembered his dream about Camp Half-Blood in ruins, Greek and Roman bodies littering the fields. He remembered Octavian speaking with the Earth Goddess’s voice:
The Romans move east from New York. They advance on your camp, and nothing can slow them down.
    ‘Nothing can slow them down,’ Leo mused. ‘I wonder …’
    ‘What?’ Jason asked.
    Leo looked at the dwarfs. ‘I’ll make you a deal.’
    Akmon’s eyes lit up. ‘Thirty percent?’
    ‘We’ll leave you all your treasure,’ Leo said, ‘except the stuff that belongs to us and the astrolabe and this book, which we’ll take back to the dude in Venice.’
    ‘But he’ll destroy us!’ Passalos wailed.
    ‘We won’t say where we got it,’ Leo promised. ‘And we won’t kill you. We’ll let you go free.’
    ‘Uh, Leo …?’ Jason asked nervously.
    Akmon squealed with delight. ‘I knew you were as smart as Hercules! I will call you Black Bottom, the Sequel!’
    ‘Yeah, no thanks,’ Leo said. ‘But in return for us sparing your lives, you have to do something for us. I’m going to send you somewhere to steal from some people, harass them, make life hard for them any way you can. You have to follow my directions exactly. You have to swear on the River Styx.’
    ‘We swear!’ Passalos said. ‘Stealing from people is our speciality!’
    ‘I love harassment!’ Akmon agreed. ‘Where are we going?’
    Leo grinned. ‘Ever heard of New York?’

XIII
     

PERCY
     
    P ERCY HAD TAKEN HIS GIRLFRIEND on some romantic walks before. This wasn’t one of them.
    They followed the River Phlegethon, stumbling over the glassy black terrain, jumping crevices and hiding behind rocks whenever the vampire girls slowed in front of them.
    It was tricky to stay far enough back to avoid getting spotted but close enough to keep Kelli and her comrades in view through the dark hazy air. The heat from the river baked Percy’s skin. Every breath was like inhaling sulphur-scented fibreglass. When they needed a drink, the best they could do was sip some refreshing liquid fire.
    Yep. Percy definitely knew how to show a girl a good time.
    At least Annabeth’s ankle seemed to have healed. She was hardly limping at all. Her various cuts and scrapes had faded. She’d tied her blonde hair back with a strip of denim torn from her jeans, and in the fiery light of the river her greyeyes flickered. Despite being beat-up, sooty and dressed like a homeless person, she looked great to Percy.
    So what if they were in Tartarus? So what if they stood a slim chance of surviving? He was so glad that they were together he had the ridiculous urge to smile.
    Physically, Percy felt better too, though his clothes looked like he’d been through a hurricane of broken glass. He was thirsty, hungry and scared out of his mind (though he wasn’t going to tell Annabeth that), but he’d shaken off the hopeless cold of the River Cocytus. And as nasty as the firewater tasted it seemed to keep him going.
    Time was impossible to judge. They trudged along, following the river as it cut through the harsh landscape. Fortunately the
empousai
weren’t exactly speed walkers. They shuffled on their mismatched bronze and donkey legs, hissing and fighting with each other, apparently in no hurry to reach the