ANNABETH HAD NEVER BEEN SCARED OF THE DARK.
But normally the dark wasn’t forty feet tall. It didn’t have black wings, a whip made out of stars, and a shadowy chariot pulled by vampire horses.
Nyx was almost too much to take in. Looming over the chasm, she was a churning figure of ash and smoke, as big as the Athena Parthenos statue, but very much alive. Her dress was void black, mixed with the colors of a space nebula, as if galaxies were being born in her bodice. Her face was hard to see except for the pinpoints of her eyes, which shone like quasars. When her wings beat, waves of darkness rolled over the cliffs, making Annabeth feel heavy and sleepy, her eyesight dim.
The goddess’s chariot was made of the same material as Nico di Angelo’s sword—Stygian iron—and pulled by two massive horses, all black except for their pointed silver fangs. The beasts’ legs floated in the abyss, turning from solid to smoke as they moved.
The horses snarled and bared their fangs at Annabeth. The goddess lashed her whip—a thin streak of stars like diamond barbs—and the horses reared back.
“No, Shade,” the goddess said. “Down, Shadow. These little prizes are not for you.”
Percy eyed the horses as they nickered. He was still shrouded in Death Mist, so he looked like an out-of-focus corpse—which broke Annabeth’s heart every time she saw him. It also must not have been very good camouflage, since Nyx could obviously see them.
Annabeth couldn’t read the expression on Percy’s ghoulish face very well. Apparently he didn’t like whatever the horses were saying.
“Uh, so you won’t let them eat us?” he asked the goddess. “They really want to eat us.”
Nyx’s quasar eyes burned. “Of course not. I would not let my horses eat you, any more than I would let Akhlys kill you. Such fine prizes, I will kill myself!”
Annabeth didn’t feel particularly witty or courageous, but her instincts told her to take the initiative, or this would be a very short conversation.
“Oh, don’t kill yourself!” she cried. “We’re not that scary.”
The goddess lowered her whip. “What? No, I didn’t mean—”
“Well, I’d hope not!” Annabeth looked at Percy and forced a laugh. “We wouldn’t want to scare her, would we?”
“Ha, ha,” Percy said weakly. “No, we wouldn’t.”
The vampire horses looked confused. They reared and snorted and knocked their dark heads together. Nyx pulled back on the reins.
“Do you know who I am?” she demanded.
“Well, you’re Night, I suppose,” said Annabeth. “I mean, I can tell because you’re dark and everything, though the brochure didn’t say much about you.”
Nyx’s eyes winked out for a moment. “What brochure?”
Annabeth patted her pockets. “We had one, didn’t we?”
Percy licked his lips. “Uh-huh.” He was still watching the horses, his hand tight on his sword hilt, but he was smart enough to follow Annabeth’s lead. Now she just had to hope she wasn’t making things worse…though honestly, she didn’t see how things could be worse.
“Anyway,” she said, “I guess the brochure didn’t say much, because you weren’t spotlighted on the tour. We got to see the River Phlegethon, the Cocytus, the arai, the poison glade of Akhlys, even some random Titans and giants, but Nyx…hmm, no, you weren’t really featured.”
“Featured? Spotlighted?”
“Yeah,” Percy said, warming up to the idea. “We came down here for the Tartarus tour—like, exotic destinations, you know? The Underworld is overdone. Mount Olympus is a tourist trap—”
“Gods, totally!” Annabeth agreed. “So we booked the Tartarus excursion, but no one even mentioned we’d run into Nyx. Huh. Oh, well. Guess they didn’t think you were important.”
“Not important!” Nyx cracked her whip. Her horses bucked and snapped their silvery fangs. Waves of darkness rolled out of the chasm, turning Annabeth’s insides to jelly, but she couldn’t show her fear.
She pushed down Percy’s sword arm, forcing him to lower his weapon. This was a goddess beyond anything they had ever faced. Nyx was older than any Olympian or Titan or giant, older even than Gaea. She couldn’t be defeated by two demigods—at least not two demigods using force.
Annabeth made herself look at the goddess’s massive dark face.
“Well, how many other demigods have come to see you on the tour?” she asked innocently.
Nyx’s hand went slack on the reins. “None. Not one. This is unacceptable!”
Annabeth shrugged. “Maybe it’s because you haven’t really done anything to get in the news. I mean, I can understand Tartarus being important! This whole place is named after him. Or, if we could meet Day—”
“Oh, yeah,” Percy chimed in. “Day? She would be impressive. I’d totally want to meet her. Maybe get her autograph.”
“Day!” Nyx gripped the rail of her black chariot. The whole vehicle shuddered. “You mean Hemera? She is my daughter! Night is much more powerful than Day!”
“Eh,” said Annabeth. “I liked the arai, or even Akhlys better.”
“They are my children as well!”
Percy stifled a yawn. “Got a lot of children, huh?”
“I am the mother of all terrors!” Nyx cried. “The Fates themselves! Hecate! Old Age! Pain! Sleep! Death! And all of the curses! Behold how newsworthy I am!”
