Chapter Text
Nico led them away from the hole in the wall. How he ever knew where he was going, Annabeth didn’t know, because everything looked the same here. Black stone, red sand, dead grass.
He walked quickly, but at least he hadn’t started running—she might’ve collapsed, then. Her lungs were still straining now, even at a reasonable pace, but she wasn’t about to tell him to stop. He’d gone through Tartarus too, and he wasn’t complaining.
Gods, he’d gone through Tartarus. Alone. A kid. At fourteen, she’d barely survived in the overworld, even with Percy at her side. Tartarus was out of the question.
Nico glanced back at her, and she realized how far behind him she was. He slowed, and she caught up to his side.
He’d been here for a long while, with Hades. It was a dreary place to be—the stony sky seemed to press in, and the air was stuffy and hot. Screams, human and monster, were a constant song in the distance. The red sand dusted the cuffs of her pants. It was easy to confuse for Tartarus, this place.
No—Tartarus was worse. Much worse. Here, at least the coarse dirt was still dirt. The air wasn’t acid, the water wasn’t fire. Here was just like the overworld, but—a little more Hades.
That seemed to be enough for him. Even for a demigod, Nico had been through a lot. Too much, even. She'd worried for him when he disappeared, but it looked like he was beginning to heal, now. Be healed, maybe, by whatever was happening between him and that son of Apollo.
She hoped Will would be able to convince Percy to stay at camp, sit still for a little longer while she went on this quest with Nico. One that she admitted she hadn’t been entirely honest about.
They’d always been one step away from dying, her and Percy. It was scary, but it was normal, and she’d been doing it for her whole life anyway. You could vaporize monsters. But you can’t vaporize gods. You can’t vaporize the awakened earth, or the goddess of magic who’s been bribed to your disadvantage. The stakes were higher. It wasn’t just death, now, it was... her whole soul, and afterlife, too.
It would be naïve to believe Kronos was truly gone, but she doubted Luke would be able to ever help her. The truth was, she’d died. Kind of. And now she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was only getting worse from here. She had to see him, just one last time. To ask him questions, and maybe find the answers to some herself. If it all started with him, it had to end with him, too.
Coming up ahead was a narrow stone bridge, wedged between black rubble. A river funneled underneath it, coming roaring out the other side. “This is the river Lethe,” Nico explained. “We’re crossing it into Hades’ domain.”
Annabeth’s heart skipped a beat. “We weren’t in Hades’ domain before?”
“Technically, Hades own the whole underworld, but that’s Hecate’s territory. She doesn’t spend a lot of time there, but it’s kind of an honorary thing.”
“I woke up in Hecate’s territory,” Annabeth said, partially to herself. The stream of thoughts in her mind was more like a whirlpool, splashy and chaotic, and she was afraid she didn’t make sense. “In an underground part. I had to climb up through a crack to get out. But—I heard spirits there.”
Nico nodded. “Hecate can take whatever spirits pledge themselves to her. Or offend her enough. They’ll be trapped there.”
Annabeth shuddered. I would be trapped there, she didn’t have to say.
“Watch your step,” Nico said as they neared the bridge. “Don’t touch the railing, it’s wet with water from the Lethe.”
Annabeth nodded, but felt a stab of guilt. She should be looking out for him, not the other way around. “When I was down there, it didn’t feel like I was in the Underworld.”
“Hecate’s land has a lot of tunnels and passages,” Nico said. “Some lead around the Underworld, but some lead lower.”
To Tartarus. Nico opened his mouth to continue, but his voice was drowned out by a sudden ringing in Annabeth’s ears. She gasped and put her hands to her head, and the world got dim, filling with a cold and empty darkness she almost recognized. She vaguely registered her body hitting the ground, but as her limbs hit the sand, a jarring chill numbed them.
The ringing in her ears faded, leaving her blind and paralyzed on the ground. Nico screamed from somewhere around her, calling her name. Her eyes were open, her body wholly still, with only her chest moving bare centimeters with each breath. A voice filled her head, and she felt its bass in her teeth. “Little demigod girl,” it crooned.
A woman appeared in front of her, though she could only move her eyes to see. When her gaze landed on the goddess, fear and anger washed through her, twisting her slow heart and tightening her throat. “Hecate couldn’t keep you in, could she? Too bad,” she tsked. “That’s okay. Bigger fish have you now.” Annabeth scrambled to remember who the goddess was, to look for any clues she could. A steady ache was building in her chest, her lungs burning from lack of oxygen. “Nyx will have your little mortal soul soon, don’t you worry.” Her hands opened and something fell from them, glinting golden, and when it hit the ground, the darkness disappeared. The goddess was gone, and the world was back.
Feeling fell into Annabeth’s body all at once. She gasped, and the pain of the first breath made the second almost impossible. Coughing, she pushed herself to her feet, and looked around for Nico.
He was sitting up a few metres away, blinking dazedly. She stumbled to his side and offered him a hand. “Are you alright?”
He nodded, taking her hand and rising to his feet. His hands were unexpectedly warm. His eyes focused on something behind her. “What’s that?”
She turned. On the ground was a golden apple, engraved with the word καλλίστη. and Annabeth sucked in a breath.
“Kallísti,” Nico read. “Fairest?”
“It’s Eris’ apple of discord.” The information surfaced as if she’d been born with it, remnants of a three-year fixation. It paid off. “She wasn’t invited to Peleus and Thetis’ wedding, so she threw the apple—this apple, into the palace room with Aphrodite, Hera, and Athena, and labelled it ‘For the fairest’. She started the Trojan War.” Nico was looking at the apple with mild disgust. “An apple of discord,” she continued, unused to not having Percy to ask for more, “is the start of an argument. The seed that leads to bigger things. Hecate said that Arachne hired her, but I think that's only a half-truth. I think all of Tartarus is after me.”
Nico blew out a breath. He was staring at the apple, his feet frozen in place.
"We'd better get going," Annabeth said gently. He turned and led her away from the golden apple.
They crossed the bridge, keeping to the left where the river passed through and away.
When Nico spoke again, Annabeth jumped. They had been quiet for long, but she wasn’t expecting him to be the first one to talk. “You think talking to Luke is going to fix this curse?” he asked.
Hurt twisted through her at the question. The truth was, she didn’t know. But the thought of seeing Luke again, of talking to him... it was too tempting to pass up. Years of emotions—worry, anger—simmered in the back of her mind. “If anyone can quell Tartarus,” she replied, “it’s him.”
Nico seemed satisfied. She felt a little guilty, dragging him along on her sad quest. He spoke up again. “Annabeth... I need to warn you.”
She waited.
Nico fiddled with the hilt of his sword, eyes on the ground in front of them. “The Fields of Punishment aren’t for mortal eyes. What you might see there—”
“Wait.” She stopped walking, feet crunching on the sand. Cold washed through her, skittering up her neck and settling in her head. “Luke is in the Fields of Punishment?”
Nico blinked and hesitated. “He was tried soon after the war. The judges ruled him guilty. The gods, too. Most of them.” Annabeth’s breaths came in heavy swells, her heartbeat loud in her ears. The sound of her shoes on the earth seemed too loud. “Zeus voted against him. So did Hera, and Artemis. Hermes voted for Elysium, obviously. So did Athena.”
A tight, raw feeling was building in her head, but she rolled her shoulders and sighed. At least that was one thing. Nico’s hands shifted awkwardly. She waved him on. “So the fields...”
“Right. They’re, uh, not for mortal eyes. So what you might see there—”
“Won’t be pretty,” she guessed.
He blew out a breath. “Yeah. To say the least. I’ve only ever been there once or twice. Hades doesn’t usually let people in.”
They walked on, Nico’s hands picking at the hilt of his sword.
Of all the questions she wanted to ask, she could only muster the energy for one. “What was his punishment? Luke’s?” Nico hesitated. “You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. I can see for myself.”
“No, it’s--it was to oversee the Fields. Luke... wasn’t the first of Kronos’ army to be there. He carries out the punishments of his soldiers.”
Annabeth drew a breath, despite the stab of pain under her rib. Her hand moved to her collarbone absently. She didn’t know why she hadn’t expected it. The punishment was harsh, more than she’d thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to anger. They were gods, after all. They were fair, cruelly so.
“We’re coming up on it now,” Nico said.
The air was getting hotter, the smell of sulphur and iron thick in her mouth. They crested a small hill, and Annabeth’s heart jumped. The sandy earth dropped suddenly, as if carved away from the inside, giving way to a thick sludge that covered the expanse. A thin mist hung in the air, painting the scene a murky red. She shuddered.
“Where is he?” she asked.
Nico gave her the only answer she could’ve expected.
"The center."