The House of Hades (The Heroes of Olympus #4)(116)

“Hours,” Krios corrected, his voice a deep rumble inside his helmet.

“Whatever!” Hyperion said. “It’s boring work, guarding these doors, shuffling monsters through at Gaea’s orders. Krios, what’s our next group, anyway?”

“Double Red,” said Krios.

Hyperion sighed. The flames glowed hotter across his shoulders. “Double Red. Why do we go from A-22 to Double Red? What kind of system is that?” He glared at Bob. “This is no job for me—the Lord of Light! Titan of the East! Master of Dawn! Why am I forced to wait in the darkness while the giants go into battle and get all the glory? Now, Krios I can understand—”

“I get all the worst assignments,” Krios muttered, his thumb still on the button.

“But me?” Hyperion said. “Ridiculous! This should be your job, Iapetus. Here, take my place for a while.”

Bob stared at the Doors, but his gaze was distant—lost in the past. “The four of us held down our father, Ouranos,” he remembered. “Koios, and me, and the two of you. Kronos promised us mastery of the four corners of the earth for helping with the murder.”

“Indeed,” Hyperion said. “And I was happy to do it! I would’ve wielded the scythe myself if I’d had the chance! But you, Bob…you were always conflicted about that killing, weren’t you? The soft Titan of the West, soft as the sunset! Why our parents named you the Piercer, I will never know. More like the Whimper.”

Percy reached the anchor hook. He uncapped his pen and Riptide grew to full length. Krios didn’t react. His attention was firmly fixed on Bob, who had just leveled the point of his spear at Hyperion’s chest.

“I can still pierce,” Bob said, his voice low and even. “You brag too much, Hyperion. You are bright and fiery, but Percy Jackson defeated you anyway. I hear you became a nice tree in Central Park.”

Hyperion’s eyes smoldered. “Careful, brother.”

“At least a janitor’s work is honest,” Bob said. “I clean up after others. I leave the palace better than I found it. But you…you do not care what messes you make. You followed Kronos blindly. Now you take orders from Gaea.”

“She is our mother!” Hyperion bellowed.

“She did not wake for our war on Olympus,” Bob recalled. “She favors her second brood, the giants.”

Krios grunted. “That’s true enough. The children of the pit.”

“Both of you hold your tongues!” Hyperion’s voice was tinged with fear. “You never know when he is listening.”

The elevator dinged. All three Titans jumped.

Had it been twelve minutes? Percy had lost track of time. Krios took his finger off the button and called out, “Double Red! Where is Double Red?”

Hordes of monsters stirred and jostled one another, but none of them came forward.

Krios heaved a 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 armor, 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 backward. 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.