The Veiled Legacy | PJO - Book Two

eight

SORRY BOB..

Ariana was relieved when the demon-grandmother closed in for the kill.

Sure, she was terrified. She didn't like the odds of three against several dozen. But at least she understood fighting. Wandering through the darkness, waiting to be attacked - that had been driving her crazy.

Besides, she, Percy and Annabeth had fought together many times. And now they had a Titan on their side.

"Back off." Percy jabbed Riptide at the nearest shrivelled hag, but she only sneered.

We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.

Ariana pressed against his shoulder. "Don't touch them." She warned. "They're the spirits of curses

"Bob doesn't like curses." Bob decided.

The skeleton kitten Small Bob disappeared inside his coveralls. Smart cat.

The Titan swept his broom in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, but they came in again like the tide.

We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have many curses to share with you.

The firewater in Ariana's stomach started crawling up her throat. She wished Tartarus had better beverage options, or maybe a tree that dispensed antacid fruit.

"I appreciate the offer." She said. "But although my mom never told me not to accept curses from strangers since she's dead, I don't think it's a smart idea."

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades.

Ariana cut her in two, but as soon as she vaporized the sides of her chest flared with pain.

She stumbled back, clamping her hand to her rib cage. Her fingers came away wet and red.

"Ari, you're bleeding!" Annabeth cried, which was kind of obvious to her at that point. "Oh, gods, on both sides."

Percy gasped.

It was true. The left and right hems of her tattered shirt were sticky with blood, as if a javelin had run her through. Or an arrow,

Queasiness almost knocked her over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.

"Geryon." Percy said. "This is how she killed him..."

The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.

Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been levelled at you, Ariana Parker. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!

Somehow she stayed on her feet. The blood stopped spreading, but she still felt like she had a hot metal curtain rod sticking through her ribs. Her main sword arm (her right) was heavy and weak.

"I don't understand." She muttered.

Bob's voice seemed to echo from the end of a long tunnel: "If you kill one, it gives you a curse."

"But if we don't kill them..." Annabeth said.

"They'll kill us anyway." Percy guessed.

Choose! the arai cried. Will you be crushed like Kampe? Or disintegrated like the young telkhines you slaughtered under Mount St Helens? You have spread so much death and suffering, Ariana Parker. Let us repay you!