“PERCY, HELP ME!” ANNABETH YELPED.
She shoved her entire body against the left door, pressing it toward the center. Percy did the same on the right. There were no handles, or anything else to hold on to. As the elevator car ascended, the Doors shook and tried to open, threatening to spill them into whatever was between life and death.
Annabeth’s shoulders ached. The elevator’s easy-listening music didn’t help. If all monsters had to hear that song about liking piña coladas and getting caught in the rain, no wonder they were in the mood for carnage when they reached the mortal world.
“We left Bob and Damasen,” Percy croaked. “They’ll die for us, and we just—”
“I know,” she murmured. “Gods of Olympus, Percy, I know.”
Annabeth was almost glad for the job of keeping the Doors closed. The terror racing through her heart at least kept her from dissolving into misery. Abandoning Damasen and Bob had been the hardest thing she’d ever done.
For years at Camp Half-Blood, she had chafed as other campers went on quests while she stayed behind. She’d watched as others gained glory…or failed and didn’t come back. Since she was seven years old, she had thought: Why don’t I get to prove my skills? Why can’t I lead a quest?
Now she realized that the hardest test for a child of Athena wasn’t leading a quest or facing death in combat. It was making the strategic decision to step back, to let someone else take the brunt of the danger—especially when that person was your friend. She had to face the fact that she couldn’t protect everyone she loved. She couldn’t solve every problem.
She hated it, but she didn’t have time for self-pity. She blinked away her tears.
“Percy, the Doors,” she warned.
The panels had started to slide apart, letting in a whiff of…ozone? Sulfur?
Percy pushed on his side furiously and the crack closed. His eyes blazed with anger. She hoped he wasn’t mad at her, but if he was, she couldn’t blame him.
If it keeps him going, she thought, then let him be angry.
“I will kill Gaea,” he muttered. “I will tear her apart with my bare hands.”
Annabeth nodded, but she was thinking about Tartarus’s boast. He could not be killed. Neither could Gaea. Against such power, even Titans and giants were hopelessly outmatched. Demigods stood no chance.
She also remembered Bob’s warning: This may not be the last sacrifice you must make to stop Gaea.
She felt that truth deep in her bones.
“Twelve minutes,” she murmured. “Just twelve minutes.”
She prayed to Athena that Bob could hold the UP button that long. She prayed for strength and wisdom. She wondered what they would find once they reached the top of this elevator ride.
If their friends weren’t there, controlling the other side…
“We can do this,” Percy said. “We have to.”
“Yeah,” Annabeth said. “Yeah, we do.”
They held the Doors shut as the elevator shuddered and the music played, while somewhere below them, a Titan and a giant sacrificed their lives for their escape.
