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Luke curled by the cold marble of the altar, pulling the dracanae skin over him as if it were a blanket. Tartarus was hellishly hot, but the reptile scales kept cold almost as good as the altar to Hermes did. But it was really more of a comfort thing than anything else. It reminded Luke of life before, before Kronos and before death. Before being thrown by Zeus himself down into the hellish prison meant for the worst magical criminals and monsters themselves.
Before being alone in a world full of Kronos’ siblings and relatives and former servants, all of whom were out for revenge. The only reason he’d made it this far was because of his reputation after killing Kronos and because Tartarus seemed to think it was hilarious to keep him alive to thrill the children of his lady love and her first husband.
This was the first and so far only “safe place” Luke had found down here, and it was a freaking altar to his damn father. How ironic- the only time Hermes helped Luke was when Luke was dead, and in a place the gods shunned almost more than they shunned their own children.
“How much further?”
Luke ignored the voice. He’d hallucinated a lot since falling into Tartarus, possibly a side-effect after falling into the river Cocytus on his descent, and hearing voices wasn’t anything new to him anyway courtesy of having a Titan in his head for years.
Oh, and the nightmares, which had gotten so much worse since he had come down here. He had no idea how long he had been in Tartarus- how long he had been dead- and the constant nightmares did not help.
“Almost there,” a gruff voice answered, masculine and rough, snapping Luke out of his thoughts.
Luke sat up quickly, his hand immediately pulling Annabeth’s dagger off of the altar’s ledge. His heart beat rapidly in his chest and he got to his feet. He knew that voice. He knew it very well.
It was never one he had hallucinated before, but he had heard it in his nightmares, because it was so fucking similar to the voice of the deity that had tormented him when he had been alive. In fact, it’s owner had tormented him while Luke had been alive: the Piercer, the Impaler.
The Titans. They found me. Iapetus is here…who else came?
He gripped his dagger tightly, thankful as usual that Zeus had deigned to give him a weapon at all, even though it had come months after he’d fallen down here (only a few days ago, in fact) and was the same weapon that he had used to end hs own life.
And of course, the moment Luke thought about it, it was all he could think about…
*
August 2009
Manhattan, New York City, New York, United States of America
Luke let out a soft gasp as the cold metal of the Celestial bronze dagger pierced through his skin, stabbing into his flesh.
Malaka, Kronos screeched at him. Look at what you’ve done. You’ve ruined everything, putana!
Luke gasped as a sudden wave of agony washed over him, almost like he was swimming in the Styx once again. Brightness flashed before his eyes as very atom in his body felt like it was being ripped apart one by one. Luke had experienced a lot of pain in his life, physical and emotional, but this was definitely the worst he had ever experienced.
It was so completely and utterly consuming he didn’t even have the strength to scream or writhe on the ground.
Áde gamisou, he thought at Kronos, an exhausted smile forming briefly on his lips before fading away beneath the onslaught of pain. I won. You won’t get to hurt me or anyone else ever again.
He heard Kronos cry out in fury, but the Titan’s voice and presence faded away like snow in the sunlight, and for the first time in an uncountable number of years Luke was alone in his own head. He slumped against the cold marble of Olympus. At the furthest point of his vision, Kronos’s scythe was melted into molten metal and slowly being consumed by the fire of Hestia’s heath.
Luke’s breath rattled in his chest as he struggled to speak. “Good…blade.”
Percy knelt down by Luke’s side and Grover helped Annabeth over. The latter duo seemed to be on the verge of tears, and that made all Luke’s slowly dying heart ache.
“You knew,” Luke told Annabeth, his voice weak. “I almost killed you, but you knew…”
More than once, Luke thought. And yet she still believed in me anyway right into the end.
Annabeth shushed him, her own voice trembling. “Shhh. You were a hero at the end, Luke. You’ll go to Elysium.”
Panic sparked in his body at the thought of being rewarded for what he had done, at the thought of spending eternity surrounded by his victims (because surely that’s where they had gone, Charles and Silena and Lee Fletcher and so many more). He shook his head. There were only two places the gods were certain to let him go to in death: the Fields of Punishment and Tartarus. The gods wouldn’t reward someone who had quite nearly overthrown them, and Luke knew he didn’t deserve to escape punishment.
“Think…rebirth,” Luke lied. “Try for three times. Isles of the Blest.”
He knew where he was going, but Annabeth was upset enough without him mentioning the more realistic results of his death. If the last thing he did was to reassure Annabeth, he’d be happy.
Annabeth sniffled. “You always pushed yourself too hard.”
She truly had no idea of how hard he’d pushed himself in the name of Kronos, in the name of justice, but that was going with him to the grave. Only the Fates got to know the abuses the Titan- and his brothers- had put Luke through.
Annabeth’s fingers brushed against Luke’s badly charred hand. Luke’s chest heaved as coughs tore their way out of his lungs, leaving the metallic stain of blood upon his lips.
“Did you…did you love me?”
Luke knew. He knew that Annabeth had loved him once as more than a brother, as more than a friend. But he had always seen her as a sister. More importantly, though, and the reason he asked, he needed to know if she would be alright once he was gone- if she had moved on. He was not bringing Annabeth down with him.
Annabeth wiped away her tears. “There was a time I thought…well, I thought…” She glanced at Percy, savoring his presence, and Luke could see the answer in her face before she spoke. “You were like a brother to me, Luke, but I didn’t love you.”
Luke nodded. That is what he had expected- that was what he’d felt for her, though he’d never seen her as anything more- he’d seen the way she had looked at Percy over the years. He’d just- he’d just wanted to make sure his little sister wouldn’t be alone once he was gone. And he knew now she wouldn’t be. He winced, the pain reaching a crescendo. The end was coming, and it was coming soon. Twenty-three years of hell would finally, blissfully, come to a close. The curtains would close on this particular Greek tragedy.
Grover glanced at Luke desperately. “We can get ambrosia. We can-”
“Grover,” Luke murmured, “you’re the bravest satyr I ever knew. But no. There’s no healing…”
Another cough tore through Luke, cutting off his words. More and more blood filled his mouth and Luke was well aware of the growing exhaustion in his body as well as the heat. Human bodies weren’t made to endure what he’d gone through today and over the past few years, and at some point something would give and he would be gone. That reminded Luke- he needed to make sure something came out of this, that the bloodshed and the sacrifice wasn’t for nothing.
He gripped Percy’s sleeve with a weak hand, his hand feverish against the other demigod. “Ethan. Me. All the unclaimed. Don’t let it…don’t let it happen again.”
Don’t let me happen again.
Luke put all of his strength into his eyes, hoping Percy could see just how important this was.
“I won’t,” the son of Poseidon vowed, sea green eyes never leaving Luke’s crystal blue. “I promise.”
Luke nodded once and closed his eyes, letting his hand slip out of Percy’s. And when the darkness came for him, he welcomed it with open arms. The agony ended, and Luke Castellan stepped into the Underworld, his exhaustion finally relieved. His misery was at an end…or was it just beginning?
*
Present day, Pit of Tartarus
I don’t want to die again, Luke thought as his mind returned from the memory, his eyes stinging. I deserve it, I deserve every pain Tartarus puts me through…but I don’t want to die. I can’t go through that again. I want to live…despite my home being literal hell.
Despite this, Luke straightened and tightened his grip on the dagger. No matter what, he would not give the bastards the satisfaction of seeing him beg. Not again. So he decided to stand tall and face whatever- whoever- was approaching him from the blood-colored gloom.
“Who’s there?” He challenged.
The footsteps paused for a moment, and then sped up. A moment later, a familiar face skidded to a halt just outside of Luke’s makeshift home. She was older, yet still a young woman, her blonde hair a ratted mess and her face smeared with ash and grit, but there was no mistaking those gray eyes or that tattered camp t-shirt. Her eyes widened as she stared at Luke. Behind her appeared a tall, familiar, and handsome young man with hair the color of obsidian and eyes like shards of sea glass. In his hands was an equally familiar sword carved from Celestial bronze, Ancient Greek letters glittering in the bizarre light of Tartarus. A third being joined them, a Titan with silver hair and eyes holding a large mop…wait, that wasn’t quite right. Luke stared at Iapetus. Iapetus stared back, silver eyes showing absolutely no recognition.
Oh, right…he attacked Thalia, Nico, and Percy, and Percy wiped his memory with the waters of the Lethe. He calls himself Bob now. I’d wondered where he’d ended up after Hecate took him. Wait…that means they’re real. Why would I ever hallucinate or have a dream about the two of them with Iapetus?
Luke nearly cried in relief. He wasn’t insane! They were real! Annabeth’s eyes flitted to the dagger in Luke’s hands and she paled.
“Luke?” She whispered, her voice raw from the harsh hellish air of the Pit.
Luke’s voice caught in his throat and he stumbled forward blindly, for once letting his dagger drop to the ground, until he was close enough to gently touch Annabeth’s hair. He felt the texture beneath his hands, confirming this was reality, and he keened, tumbling forward until his shaking arms were wrapped around Annabeth. The last contact he’d had with anything resembling a human had been that empousa, Kelly, a few months ago, and that had been more Kelly gripping his ass and trying to drink the blood from his mouth by biting on his tongue than anything else.
“You’re here,” Luke’s voice cracked. “I’m not dreaming.”
“I’m here,” Annabeth promised, her voice as shaky as Luke felt. “I’m here, Luke.”
Luke kissed the top of Annabeth’s head- oh, she’d gotten so big- and then pulled back, his eyes a bit watery (as much as they could be in a pit of fire).
“Sit down,” he told the trio. “You look tired.”
Percy complied, sitting down on the ground, as did Bob. Annabeth remained standing, her gray eyes focused on Luke.
“How long have you been here?” She demanded.
Luke shrugged. “The entire time, however long that’s been.”
Annabeth looked horrified.
“Why? What’s wrong?” Luke asked, a bit concerned.
“You’ve been down here in Tartarus for a year?” Percy repeated, looking equally horrified.
Even Bob looked surprised.
Luke sighed. “Yeah. It’s been…”
Terrible? Terrifying? Torturous?
“...interesting,” Luke finished.
Annabeth and Percy only stared at him.
Bob frowned. “I am surprised. Usually monster find demigod delicious. Why have you not been eaten before now?”
“I’m smart, I have a high pain tolerance, and I killed a divine being, which gave me quite the reputation down here,” Luke deadpanned, glossing over Kronos’ death so not to potentially trigger the return of Bob’s memories. “Not many things come after me. Besides, since I found this place, I tend to stay around it. It’s the only safe place I’ve found down here.”
Oh, and Tartarus thinks I’m some sort of pet and he’s keeping me alive purely for his amusement. Being a divine play-thing is great, I totally recommend it. At least Tartarus isn’t hurting me regularly, like Kronos did.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Luke asked.
The other two demigods looked almost…worried, though Luke was certain they couldn’t be. Sure, they’d been happy to see them, but that was almost definitely because they’d been without human contact for a while now, nothing more.
“You say that so casually,” Percy noted. “It’s…kind of depressing, Luke.”
Well, the son of Poseidon wasn’t wrong, but Luke shrugged and pushed down his own feelings.
I deserve it.
“You say that and yet you two are down here too. Somehow, I don’t think you followed in my footsteps and died, and regardless it hasn’t been a walk in a park for you either,” Luke pointed out. “What the hell are you doing down here?”
Percy and Annabeth exchanged glances.
“There’s kind of another war going on,” Annabeth explained.
Luke almost choked on the hellish harsh air of the Pit.
Another one? What the fuck? We- they-just got through the last one a year ago!
He tried to picture who else would try and take over the world, and his mind invariably drifted to Kronos’ fucked-up family tree. To be fair, that was the first fucked-up family tree, and also kind of the only one, since pretty much every Greek deity was related to each other in some degree.
Ouranos is dead. Oceanus doesn’t do jackshit. Rhea…is somewhere, minding her own business. Kronos is dead. Iapetus is an amnesiac and also down here. None of the other girls would do anything. Hyperion is too flashy and too much of an idiot to lead an army, and he’s down here. Coeus wouldn’t want to risk endangering his grandkids, Artemis and Apollo, since he actually cares for them. Crius is definitely down here, or he was when I got here, ‘cause he nearly crushed me with his bigass feet. Helios is dead and Atlas is tied up. So where does that leave us…?
Luke’s eyes widened as another name popped into his head.
Gaea, goddess of the Earth. Mother of the Titans and the Elder Cyclopes with Ouranos. Also the mother of the Giants with Tartarus. She hasn’t been awake in millenia…but she almost certainly noticed her son rising from the depths of hell in order to try and destroy the Olympians. She must be so pissed off.
Nausea swirled in his gut. This was his fault. If he hadn’t been so naive as to trust Kronos- even though that had only lasted for maybe a few months, until the Titan had started hurting him to make the demigod comply- perhaps Gaea wouldn’t be stirring now.
Well, if I hadn’t trusted him once, I wouldn’t be here right now. I wouldn’t be dead and neither would anyone else. We’d be back at camp, or exploring college, or starting new lives. But I took that away from all of us, and now we’re all dead and those we left behind are facing another destructive war.
Luke swallowed, urging his legs to not give out beneath him. “It’s the Earth Mother, isn’t it?”
Annabeth nodded, gray eyes scrutinizing him and piercing him down to the morrow. Bob frowned, as if the moniker were familiar- it should be, that was his fucking mother.
Luke let out a shaky breath that sounded far too similar to the death rattle he’d heard so many times before. “Fuck.”
That explained the gradual increase in monster activity down here. That explained what Kelly had told him about the Doors of Death…and about who was keeping them open, letting monsters return in force to the mortal world even after death.
“Oh, you’re not going up? Sweetie, the doors are wide open. She’s keeping them open for us. Don’t you want to go back and finish what you started? You won’t even stay dead if the gods dare to try anything. She’ll bring you back again, and again, until you get
“You’re here for the Doors, aren’t you,” Luke stated. It wasn’t a question.
Percy nodded, a grim set to his mouth. “Do you know where they are?”
Luke finally picked his- Annabeth’s- dagger up off of the ground and nodded. Percy’s eyes lit up and Annabeth sat up straighter.
“It’s not hard to find,” Luke told them. “You just go down.”
“Down?” Percy repeated.
“Exactly. The rivers are his arteries and veins, the ground his flesh. The top of the Pit is his head. The Doors are where his heart would be,” Luke explained, rolling the dagger through his hands. “So down we go.”
“You’ve seen them? And you didn’t…you didn’t try to leave?”
Luke’s grip tightened on the dagger beneath Percy’s incredulous look, his heart pounding in his chest. Annabeth gave her boyfriend (they were dating, right? If not, he was legally obliged as Annabeth’s older brother-figure to sit her down and ask her how she could be so smart and yet so oblivious) a sharp look, but he was oblivious to it.
Percy’s sea-green eyes stared intently into Luke’s frozen-fjord ones. “Why would you stay here? This place is fucked up. Humans- demigods- aren’t meant to be down here.
It took a moment for Luke to find his tongue again. His eyes were burning and for once it wasn’t the horrific, acidic air of the Pit. If water could actually exist down here instead of instantaneously evaporating into steam, he was sure there would be tears on his face.
I can avoid the Titans all I like, but it takes five minutes for another demigod to find my weak spot, and that hurts just as much as the tortures the Titans would love to inflict on me. This is why I never tried to speak to di Angelo when he was down here. People…people bring pain. In my excitement to see Annie, I’d forgotten about that. Idiot.
Luke turned away, staring down into the celestial bronze of the dagger in his hand at the pale, skinny reflection of himself. “For one thing, it’s a fucking suicide mission. It’s more heavily guarded than Fort Knox and Alcatraz combined. There are so many monsters, you wouldn’t even be able to get within ten miles without being noticed. Second of all…”
Luke swallowed, looking up from the dagger yet not quite meeting the others’ gazes.
“...who do you think is guarding it? Who do you think the Earth Mother would entrust to guard the Doors of Death? I’ll tell you, there’s only twelve of them, but even less of them down here.”
“The Titans,” Annabeth murmured.
Luke laughed humorlessly. “Yeah. If they see me, I’ll be swinging from the gallows and my rope will be my own intestines.”
Bob frowned, looking up from his pebbles for the first time in minutes. “Why would Titans want to hurt you? Titans are good. Luke is good.”
“Some Titans are good,” Percy intervened quickly, saving Luke from answering that no, Luke wasn’t good, and neither was the Titans, like you, Bob. But not all are. Some are very, very bad.”
“Like with monsters? Like with people?”
“Exactly,” Percy answered patiently, surprisingly soft.
Bob looked content with this answer and turned back to his pebbles. Luke fiddled with his dagger, his heart in his throat, and Annabeth’s gray eyes widened when she noticed it. Luke anticipated her asking about it, and yet when she spoke, it was to ask something very different.
“There’s another reason, isn’t there? To why you didn’t try to leave.” Annabeth nodded at the dagger.
Damn it. Of course she’d figure it out.
“You’re punishing yourself for the war.” Annabeth’s voice was matter-of-fact, as if they were chatting about the weather (it’s been nice and fiery, about ninety-nine to one hundred and five degrees regularly, and one hundred and twenty on the bad days, so typical for this hell pit). “You think you deserve to suffer.”
“I don't think that Annie, I know that.” Luke snapped, his voice breaking a little at the end. “I-I’m not human. I’m a monster. I’m the kind of person Douglas and Olshaker wrote about in their damn books. I’m a murderer. So, yes, I do deserve the pain. I deserve to be in constant agony. I deserve to be flayed, to be fed alive to rats, to-to be executed and tortured.” He laughed, and it sounded like broken glass. “You k-know that wasn’t the first time I tried, right?”
He nodded at the dagger. Annabeth looked like she’d ben punched and Percy’s eyes sharpened with an emotion Luke couldn’t identify in the haze of pain he was currently in.
“I tried so many times,” Luke cried, the tears burning in the flaming air before they could even touch his skin. “I put a gun in my mouth and pulled the trigger. I wrapped a noose around my neck and tried to hang from the ceiling of my quarters in the Princess Andromeda. I tried cyanide and arsenic and every poison I could find. I even fucking tried to gas myself. I cut myself, I stabbed myself, I let others hurt me. I hated myself for years before Kronos, but after that…after him I hated myself even more, because now I knew for sure that the rest of the world hated me too, including you. I was evidently the scum of the earth and I should go lay down in a ditch and die.”
Annabeth moved closer, holding her hands out, her gray eyes sad and stormy. “Luke-”
Percy stood up as well, but he hung back, watching the situation with concerned eyes. Luke didn’t understand that worry.
I’m just a monster. I’m just a pain-seeking, masochistic, sadistic slut who ruined everything. Why would they worry about me?
“A-and I didn’t do it just for me, you know! They- they told me it was me or them.”
“You or who, Luke?” Annabeth whispered softly.
“Me o-or the demigods who followed me. The ones that had died during the war. If I went to Elysium, my followers would be punished instead. They-they’d be the ones suffering in the Fields of Punishment, or Tartarus. I couldn’t let that happen…and I deserved it anyway. So I took their place. I took the fall. Ethan and the others, they went to Asphodel and Elysium, and I…came down here.”
Luke turned away before anyone could answer, hoping they couldn’t see the pain on his face.
“Get some rest,” he instructed. “I’ll take first watch. Food will be here soon, and I’m sure you will want to get moving in the morning.”
He moved away, closer to the edge of the safe zone, and listened as Percy and Annabeth settled down to sleep. He wondered if he would be able to protect them this time.
I will. I will not fail them again. I swear it.