TERRIFIED . . . annabeth chase

fifty nine.

"Monsters are eternal," Annabeth told him. "We will remember you and Damasen as heroes, as the best Titan and the best giant. We'll tell our children. We'll keep the story alive. Someday, you will regenerate."

Val nearly laughed. Like she would have children. Like she would stay alive.

Bob ruffled her hair. Smile lines crinkled around his eyes. "That is good. Until then, my friends, tell the sun and the stars hello for me. And be strong. This may not be the last sacrifice you must make to stop Gaea."

He pushed her away gently. "No more time. Go."

Annabeth grabbed Val and Percy's arm. She dragged them into the elevator car. She had one last glimpse of the Maeonian drakon shaking an ogre like a sock puppet, Damasen jabbing at Tartarus's legs.

The god of the pit pointed at the Doors of Death and yelled: Monsters, stop them!

Small Bob the saber-toothed crouched and snarled, ready for action.

Bob winked at Val. "Hold the Doors closed on your side," he said. "They will resist your passage. Hold them—"

The panels slid shut.

* * *

"Percy, Tina, 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. Val gritted her teeth and put her hands to the door and pressed them together. 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.

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," Val mumbled, tears streaming down her cheeks. "They'll die for us, and we just—"

"I know," Annabeth murmured. "Gods of Olympus, V, I know."

Val 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.

"Percy, the Doors," Annabeth warned. "V can't do it herself."

The panels had started to slide apart, letting in a whiff of . . . ozone? Sulfur? Val pushed them together furiously and the crack closed. Percy leaned further against the doors.

"I will kill Gaea," Percy muttered. "I will tear her apart with my bare hands."

Val 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," Annabeth murmured. "Just twelve minutes."

"We can do this," Percy said. "We have to."

"Yeah," Val 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.

* * *

Whatever happened next was some kind of a blur.

Val remembered seeing things — curly hair, fire, a giant, a maze, but it wasn't clear to her. Not, at least, until all of her friends were there, fighting a giant.