𝐆𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 [Jason Grace]

42

𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐫. His foot went CRUNCH. He looked down and realized he'd just put his shoe through a human rib cage.

Dante let out a panicked scream and jumped from foot to foot, trying to get his leg out of the ribcage. Where had that come from?

"What the fuck?" Annabeth scooted closer to him, just as freaked out as him. He had glanced down only a moment before and hadn't seen any bones. Now the floor was littered with them. The rib cage was obviously old. It crumbled to dust as he removed his foot. Nearby lay a corroded bronze dagger very much like Annabeth's. Either this dead person had been carrying the weapon, or it had killed him.

Dante held the flashlight in front of him, clearing his throat as if he hadn't screamed like a baby. A little farther down the mosaic path sprawled a more complete skeleton in the remains of an embroidered red doublet, like a man from the Renaissance. His frilled collar and skull had been badly burned, as if the guy had decided to wash his hair with a blowtorch.

"Wonderful" Annabeth mumbled.

Dante lifted his eyes to the altar statue, which held a dagger and a torch.

"It's some kind of test" She went on. Dante had grown comfortable in his role. All he had to do was lead Annabeth. She would do all the smart puzzle stuff.

"I'm guessing these two guys failed" He stared at the skeletons. Correction: not just two guys. More bones and scraps of clothing were scattered all the way to the altar. He couldn't guess how many skeletons were represented, but he was willing to bet they were all demigods from the past, children of Athena on the same quest.

Annabeth trembled, maybe from fear or from anticipation. Dante held her by her shoulder. "They didn't have anyone else with them. You've got me"

"I've got you"

Dante nodded.

"I will not be another skeleton on your floor," she called to the statue.

A girl, said a watery voice, echoing through the room. Girls are not allowed.

A female demigod, said a second voice. Inexcusable.

The chamber rumbled. Dust fell from the cracked ceiling. Dante grabbed Annabeth's hand and bolted for the hole they'd come through, but it had disappeared. His string had been severed. He clambered up on the bench and pounded on the wall where the hole had been, hoping the hole's absence was just an illusion, a trick of the mist but the wall felt solid.

They were trapped.

His heart beat furiously in his own ribcage and he wondered if a thousand years from now someone might step into his bones, where his heart had once been, in this very chamber.

Along the benches, a dozen Lares shimmered into existence. They glared at Annabeth as if she'd interrupted their meeting.

Annabeth tugged at Dante's hand and they both stepped down from the bench and put their backs to the bricked-in doorway. She was trying to look confident so Dante followed her lead.

"Is the boy here for us or the girl?" A ghost whispered to his friends. "We will accept the boy but not the girl"

"Excuse you" Dante scrunched his nose in disgust.

"I'm a child of Athena," Annabeth said, as boldly as she could manage.

"A Greek," one of the ghosts said with disgust. "That is even worse."