plague bringer - a heroes of olympus insert

𝗂𝗂. 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇

The impact didn't kill her, but the cold nearly did. Freezing water shocked the air right out of her lungs. Her limbs turned rigid, and she began to sink. Strange wailing sounds filled her ears—millions of heartbroken voices, as if the river were made of distilled sadness. The voices were worse than the cold. They weighed her down and made her numb.

What's the point of struggling? they told her. You're dead anyway. You'll never leave this place.

She could sink to the bottom and drown, let the river carry her body away. That would be easier. She could just close her eyes, it's not like anyone would even...

Her mind drifted to the rest of the eight and her eyes widened. Suddenly she didn't want to die, but wanted to get back to her friends. They were counting on her, believing in her not to die and instead make it out.

She kicked upward and barely managed to break the surface. Aria gasped, grateful for the air, no matter how sulfurous. She could feel the water trying to bring her back down, telling her there was no point in fighting. Though she couldn't make out her surroundings, she knew this was a river. Rivers had shores. "Land," she croaked. Aria grimaced and struggled across the current. The river worked against her: thousands of weeping voices whispering in her ears, getting inside her brain.

Life is despair, they said. Everything is pointless, and then you die.

Her teeth chattered from the cold. She felt herself wanting to give up and sink but grimaced, remembering the promise she made to Piper. She swore on the River Styx that she would do everything she could to make it back to them. Aria grit her teeth and swam harder, she wasn't a liar. The only option was to keep going. She would've laughed about how her stubbornness was finally paying off, but fighting the river was taking all of her attention.

Aria started making progress against the current. Her limbs felt like bags of wet sand, but she refused to stop now. She could see the dark line of the shore about a stone's throw away. The girl forced the memories of her friends to mind. The rest of the eight, her siblings, her mom. All of them were counting on her to make it out alive. She promised her siblings she'd come back to them and remembered Kayla's threat. If she died on the quest, Kayla would revive her just to kill her herself.

She laughed at the memory, and the sound sent a shock wave through the water. The wailing faded to background noise. Aria wondered if anyone had ever laughed in Tartarus before—just a pure, simple laugh of pleasure. She doubted it. She used the last of her strength to reach the riverbank. Her feet dug into the sandy bottom. She hauled herself ashore, shivering and gasping, and collapsed on the dark sand.

Aria wanted to curl up and go to sleep. She wanted to shut her eyes, hope all of this was just a bad dream, and wake up to find herself back on the Argo II, safe with her friends (well...as safe as a demigod can ever be). But, no. She was really in Tartarus. At her feet, the River Cocytus roared past, a flood of liquid wretchedness.

The sulfurous air stung Aria's lungs and prickled her skin, but the feeling went away after a moment as if her body was adapting to it. When she looked at her arms, she saw that they were lightly glowing. It was almost like her powers were repelling or protecting her from something. Weird. She tried to sit up and gasped in pain. The beach wasn't sand. She was sitting on a field of jagged black-glass chips, some of which were now embedded in Aria's palms.

So the air was dangerous somehow. The water was misery. The ground was broken glass. Everything here was designed to hurt and kill. Awesome. Love that energy.

Aria took a sharp breath of pain and wondered if the voices in the Cocytus, which she assumed the river must be based on Annabeth's mythology lessons, were right. She silently thanked herself for having an interest in the underworld and tartarus, but was still very worried. Maybe fighting for survival was pointless. She would be dead within the hour.

A few moments passed before she shook her head, remembering what she needed to do. She could've curled up and cried until she became another ghost, melting into the Cocytus. But she needed to get back to her friends and close the doors. And that meant she couldn't give up.

Aria forced herself to take stock. She glanced at her fingers, seeing her bow and sword rings were still present. Aria almost melted in relief. If she still had her weapons there was less of a chance she would die down here. She could make it out to her friends. What else did she have? No food, no water...basically no supplies at all. Yep. Off to a promising start.

Aria looked down at herself, checking for any prominent injuries. Luckily, she seemed pretty okay other than the glass. Her clothes were covered in rips and tears, which weren't great, but they were good enough. Another glance at her hands and she noticed her fingers were scraped raw from fighting against the earth that was disappearing so she would fall into the pit. She felt herself shivering a little bit too, which wasn't great. She couldn't afford to get hypothermia now. There was too much ahead of her to worry about.

The purple haired girl struggled to her feet with a wince and scanned her surroundings. Above, she saw no sign of the tunnel she'd fallen down. She couldn't even see the cavern roof—just blood-colored clouds floating in the hazy gray air. It was like staring through a thin mix of tomato soup and cement. She fought back the urge to scream.

The black-glass beach stretched inland about fifty yards, then dropped off the edge of a cliff. From where she stood, Aria couldn't see what was below, but the edge flickered with red light as if illuminated by huge fires. She grimaced, hoping this wouldn't become a problem later. It felt like something Annabeth had told her about, but she couldn't remember what. Before she could think too much about it, something downstream caught her eye. A hundred feet away, a familiar-looking baby-blue Italian car crashed head first into the sand.

It looked just like the Fiat that had smashed into Arachne and sent her plummeting into the pit. Aria hoped she was wrong, but how many Italian sports cars could there be in Tartarus? It's not like the place was a car dealership. A large part of her didn't want to go anywhere near it, but she had to find out.

She took a steading breath and stumbled toward the wreckage. One of the car's tires had come off and was floating in a backwater eddy of the Cocytus. The Fiat's windows had shattered, sending brighter glass like frosting across the dark beach. Under the crushed hood lay the tattered, glistening remains of a giant silk cocoon—the trap that Annabeth had tricked Arachne into weaving. It was unmistakably empty. Slash marks in the sand made a trail downriver...as if something heavy, with multiple legs, had scuttled into the darkness.

"She's alive." Aria muttered. She was horrified, so outraged by the unfairness of it all. Aria felt dread start washing over her, but tried to think positive thoughts. Maybe, just maybe she was actually dead and this was all a trick. Gods, she hoped that was all it was.

As she started to move, Aria noticed something glint near the wreckage. She hesitantly walked toward the smashed car and went to investigate. As she got closer, she realized it was a weapon of some kind. Her eyes widened as she picked it up.

She could recognize this weapon anywhere. It was Annabeth's dagger. The realization almost made Aria start to cry. Although she was on her own, she at least had something from a friend to hold on to. She luckily had a belt and began to configure it so it could hold the weapon. She smiled as it rested in her makeshift holster. The purple haired girl didn't realize just how much she needed something to remind her of why she was fighting. Besides, Annabeth was the smartest person she knew. Maybe Annabeth's dagger would be able to give her some of her friend's smarts through osmosis.

Aria felt herself shiver again. She wasn't feeling any warmer, despite the hot, sticky air. The glass cuts on her hands were still bleeding, which was unusual for her. Normally, she healed fast. She thought back to how she was glowing and figured that her body was healing whatever was wrong with the air, leaving these injuries to take care of themselves. "This place is literally killing me. Or it will unless..."

Suddenly Annabeth's lesson came back to mind. Tartarus. Fire. That distant memory came into focus. She gazed inland toward the cliff, illuminated by flames from below. It was an absolutely crazy idea. But it might be her only chance. She had to go to the river of fire.