The Blood of Olympus (The Heroes of Olympus #5)(49)

Annabeth sat, her face suddenly pale. ‘I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard all of a sudden. I can’t quite get that memory out of my head … how Percy looked when he was standing at the edge of Chaos.’

Maybe Piper was just picking up on Annabeth’s uneasiness, but she started to feel agitated as well.

She thought about what Jason had said last night: Part of me wanted to close my eyes and stop fighting.

She had tried her best to reassure him, but still she worried. Like that Cherokee hunter who changed into a serpent, all demigods had their share of bad spirits inside. Fatal flaws. Some crises brought them out. Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.

If that was true for Jason, how could it not be true for Percy? The guy had literally been through hell and back. Even when he wasn’t trying, he made the toilets explode. What would Percy be like if he wanted to act scary?

‘Give him time.’ She sat next to Annabeth. ‘The guy is crazy about you. You’ve been through so much together.’

‘I know …’ Annabeth’s grey eyes reflected the green of the olive trees. ‘It’s just … Bob the Titan, he warned me there would be more sacrifices ahead. I want to believe we can have a normal life someday … But I allowed myself to hope for that last summer, after the Titan War. Then Percy disappeared for months. Then we fell into that pit …’ A tear traced its way down her cheek. ‘Piper, if you’d seen the face of the god Tartarus, all swirling darkness, devouring monsters and vaporizing them – I’ve never felt so helpless. I try not to think about it …’

Piper took her friend’s hands. They were trembling badly. She remembered her first day at Camp Half-Blood, when Annabeth had given her a tour. Annabeth had been shaken up about Percy’s disappearance and, though Piper was pretty disoriented and scared herself, comforting Annabeth had made her feel needed, like she might actually have a place among these crazy-powerful demigods.

Annabeth Chase was the bravest person she knew. If even she needed a shoulder to cry on once in a while … well, Piper was glad to offer hers.

‘Hey,’ she said gently. ‘Don’t try to shut out the feelings. You won’t be able to. Just let them wash over you and drain out again. You’re scared.’

‘Gods, yes, I’m scared.’

‘You’re angry.’

‘At Percy for frightening me,’ she said. ‘At my mom for sending me on that horrible quest in Rome. At … well, pretty much everybody. Gaia. The giants. The gods for being jerks.’

‘At me?’ Piper asked.

Annabeth managed a shaky laugh. ‘Yes, for being so annoyingly calm.’

‘It’s all a lie.’

‘And for being a good friend.’

‘Ha!’

‘And for having your head on straight about guys and relationships and –’

‘I’m sorry. Have you met me?’

Annabeth punched her arm, but there was no force to it. ‘I’m stupid, sitting here talking about my feelings when we have a quest to finish.’

‘The chained god’s heartbeat can wait.’ Piper tried for a smile, but her own fears welled up inside her – for Jason and her friends on the Argo II, for herself, if she wasn’t able to do what Aphrodite had advised. In the end, you will only have the power for one word. It must be the right word, or you will lose everything.

‘Whatever happens,’ she told Annabeth, ‘I’m your friend. Just … remember that, okay?’

Especially if I’m not around to remind you, Piper thought.

Annabeth started to say something. Suddenly a roaring sound came from the ruins. One of the stone-lined pits, which Piper had mistaken for wells, spewed out a three-storey geyser of flames and shut off just as quickly.

‘What the heck?’ Piper asked.

Annabeth sighed. ‘I don’t know, but I have a feeling it’s something we should check out.’

Three pits lay side by side like finger holes on a recorder. Each one was perfectly round, two feet in diameter, tiled around the rim with limestone; each one plunged straight into darkness. Every few seconds, seemingly at random, one of the three pits shot a column of fire into the sky. Each time, the colour and intensity of the flames were different.

‘They weren’t doing this before.’ Annabeth walked a wide arc around the pits. She still looked shaky and pale, but her mind was now obviously engaged in the problem at hand. ‘There doesn’t seem to be any pattern. The timing, the colour, the height of the fire … I don’t get it.’

‘Did we activate them somehow?’ Piper wondered. ‘Maybe that surge of fear you felt on the hill … Uh, I mean we both felt.’

Annabeth didn’t seem to hear her. ‘There must be some kind of mechanism … a pressure plate, a proximity alarm.’

Flames shot from the middle pit. Annabeth counted silently. The next time, a geyser erupted on the left. She frowned. ‘That’s not right. It’s inconsistent. It has to follow some kind of logic.’

Piper’s ears started to ring. Something about these pits …

Each time one ignited, a horrible thrill went through her – fear, panic, but also a strong desire to get closer to the flames.

‘It isn’t rational,’ she said. ‘It’s emotional.’