The House of Hades (The Heros of Olympus, Book 4)

HAZEL ALMOST FELT SORRY FOR CLYTIUS.

They attacked him from every direction—Leo shooting fire at his legs, Frank and Piper jabbing at his chest, Jason flying into the air and kicking him in the face. Hazel was proud to see how well Piper remembered her sword-fighting lessons.

Each time the giant’s smoky veil started creeping around one of them, Nico was there, slashing through it, drinking in the darkness with his Stygian blade.

Percy and Annabeth were on their feet, looking weak and dazed, but their swords were drawn. When did Annabeth get a sword? And what was it made of—ivory? They looked like they wanted to help, but there was no need. The giant was surrounded.

Clytius snarled, turning back and forth as if he couldn’t decide which of them to kill first. Wait! Hold still! No! Ouch!

The darkness around him dispelled completely, leaving nothing to protect him except his battered armor. Ichor oozed from a dozen wounds. The damage healed almost as fast as it was inflicted, but Hazel could tell the giant was tiring.

One last time Jason flew at him, kicking him in the chest, and the giant’s breastplate shattered. Clytius staggered backward. His sword dropped to the floor. He fell to his knees, and the demigods encircled him.

Only then did Hecate step forward, her torches raised. Mist curled around the giant, hissing and bubbling as it touched his skin.

“And so it ends,” Hecate said.

It does not end. Clytius’s voice echoed from somewhere above, muffled and slurred. My brethren have risen. Gaea waits only for the blood of Olympus. It took all of you together to defeat me. What will you do when the Earth Mother opens her eyes?

Hecate turned her torches upside down. She thrust them like daggers at Clytius’s head. The giant’s hair went up faster than dry tinder, spreading down his head and across his body until the heat of the bonfire made Hazel wince. Clytius fell without a sound, face-first in the rubble of Hades’s altar. His body crumbled to ashes.

For a moment, no one spoke. Hazel heard a ragged, painful noise and realized it was her own breathing. Her side felt like it had been kicked in with a battering ram.

The goddess Hecate faced her. “You should go now, Hazel Levesque. Lead your friends out of this place.”

Hazel gritted her teeth, trying to hold in her anger. “Just like that? No ‘thank you’? No ‘good work’?”

The goddess tilted her head. Gale the weasel chittered—maybe a good-bye, maybe a warning—and disappeared in the folds of her mistress’s skirts.

“You look in the wrong place for gratitude,” Hecate said. “As for ‘good work,’ that remains to be seen. Speed your way to Athens. Clytius was not wrong. The giants have risen—all of them, stronger than ever. Gaea is on the very edge of waking. The Feast of Hope will be poorly named unless you arrive to stop her.”

The chamber rumbled. Another stela crashed to the floor and shattered.

“The House of Hades is unstable,” Hecate said. “Leave now. We shall meet again.”

The goddess dissolved. The Mist evaporated.

“She’s friendly,” Percy grumbled.

The others turned toward him and Annabeth, as if just realizing they were there.

“Dude.” Jason gave Percy a bear hug.

“Back from Tartarus!” Leo whooped. “That’s my peeps!”

Piper threw her arms around Annabeth and cried.

Frank ran to Hazel. He gently folded his arms around her. “You’re hurt,” he said.

“Ribs probably broken,” she admitted. “But Frank—what happened to your arm?”

He managed a smile. “Long story. We’re alive. That’s what matters.”

She was so giddy with relief it took her a moment to notice Nico, standing by himself, his expression full of pain and conflict.

“Hey,” she called to him, beckoning with her good arm.

He hesitated, then came over and kissed her forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said. “The ghosts were right. Only one of us made it to the Doors of Death. You…you would have made Dad proud.”

She smiled, cupping her hand gently to his face. “We couldn’t have defeated Clytius without you.”

She brushed her thumb under Nico’s eye and wondered if he had been crying. She wanted so badly to understand what was going on with him—what had happened to him over the last few weeks. After all they’d just been through, Hazel was more grateful than ever to have a brother.

Before she could say that, the ceiling shuddered. Cracks appeared in the remaining tiles. Columns of dust spilled down.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Jason said. “Uh, Frank…?”

Frank shook his head. “I think one favor from the dead is all I can manage today.”

“Wait, what?” Hazel asked.

Piper raised her eyebrows. “Your unbelievable boyfriend called in a favor as a child of Mars. He summoned the spirits of some dead warriors, made them lead us here through…um, well, I’m not sure, actually. The passages of the dead? All I know is that it was very, very dark.”

To their left, a section of the wall split. Two ruby eyes from a carved stone skeleton popped out and rolled across the floor.

“We’ll have to shadow-travel,” Hazel said.

Nico winced. “Hazel, I can barely manage that with only myself. With seven more people—”

“I’ll help you.” She tried to sound confident. She’d never shadow-traveled before, had no idea if she could; but after working with the Mist, altering the Labyrinth—she had to believe it was possible.

An entire section of tiles peeled loose from the ceiling.

“Everyone, grab hands!” Nico yelled.

They made a hasty circle. Hazel envisioned the Greek countryside above them. The cavern collapsed, and she felt herself dissolving into shadow.

They appeared on the hillside overlooking the River Acheron. The sun was just rising, making the water glitter and the clouds glow orange. The cool morning air smelled of honeysuckle.

Hazel was holding hands with Frank on her left, Nico on her right. They were all alive and mostly whole. The sunlight in the trees was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. She wanted to live in that moment—free of monsters and gods and evil spirits.

Then her friends began to stir.

Nico realized that he was holding Percy’s hand and quickly let go.

Leo staggered backward. “You know…I think I’ll sit down.”

He collapsed. The others joined him. The Argo II still floated over the river a few hundred yards away. Hazel knew that they should signal Coach Hedge and tell him they were alive. Had they been in the temple all night? Or several nights? But at the moment, the group was too tired to do anything except sit and relax and marvel at the fact that they were okay.

They began to exchange stories.

Frank explained what had happened with the ghostly legion and the army of monsters—how Nico had used the scepter of Diocletian, and how bravely Jason and Piper had fought.

“Frank is being modest,” Jason said. “He controlled the entire legion. You should’ve seen him. Oh, by the way…” Jason glanced at Percy. “I resigned my office, gave Frank a field promotion to praetor. Unless you want to contest that ruling.”

Percy grinned. “No argument here.”

“Praetor?” Hazel stared at Frank.

He shrugged uncomfortably. “Well…yeah. I know it seems weird.”

She tried to throw her arms around him, then winced as she remembered her busted ribs. She settled for kissing him. “It seems perfect.”

Leo clapped Frank on the shoulder. “Way to go, Zhang. Now you can order Octavian to fall on his sword.”

“Tempting,” Frank agreed. He turned apprehensively to Percy. “But, you guys…Tartarus has to be the real story. What happened down there? How did you…?”

Percy laced his fingers through Annabeth’s.

Hazel happened to glance at Nico and saw pain in his eyes. She wasn’t sure, but maybe he was thinking how lucky Percy and Annabeth were to have each other. Nico had gone through Tartarus alone.

“We’ll tell you the story,” Percy promised. “But not yet, okay? I’m not ready to remember that place.”

“No,” Annabeth agreed. “Right now…” She gazed toward the river and faltered. “Uh, I think our ride is coming.”

Hazel turned. The Argo II veered to port, its aerial oars in motion, its sails catching the wind. Festus’s head glinted in the sunlight. Even from a distance, Hazel could hear him creaking and clanking in jubilation.

“That’s my boy!” Leo yelled.

As the ship got closer, Hazel saw Coach Hedge standing at the prow.

“About time!” the coach yelled down. He was doing his best to scowl, but his eyes gleamed as if maybe, just maybe, he was happy to see them. “What took you so long, cupcakes? You kept your visitor waiting!”

“Visitor?” Hazel murmured.

At the rail next to Coach Hedge, a dark-haired girl appeared wearing a purple cloak, her face so covered with soot and bloody scratches that Hazel almost didn’t recognize her.

Reyna had arrived.