𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 ― j. grace ³ ✓

twenty-seven

Tartarus hissed again — possibly laughing.

Your fear smells wonderful, said the God. I see the appeal of having a physical body with so many senses. Perhaps my beloved Gaea is right, wishing to wake from her slumber.

He stretched out his massive purple hand and might have plucked up Percy like a weed, but Bob interrupted.

"Begone!" The Titan leveled his spear at the God. "You have no right to meddle!"

Meddle? Tartarus turned. I am the Lord of all creatures of the darkness, puny Iapetus. I can do as I please.

His black cyclone face spun faster. The howling sound was so horrible, Annabeth fell to her knees and clutched her ears. Bob stumbled, the wispy comet tail of his life force growing longer as itwas sucked toward the face of the God.

Bob roared in defiance. He charged and thrust his spear at Tartarus' chest. Before it could connect, Tartarus swatted Bob aside like he was a pesky insect. The Titan went sprawling.

Why do you not disintegrate? Tartarus mused. You are nothing. You are even weaker than Krios and Hyperion.

"I am Bob," said Bob.

Tartarus hissed. What is that? What is Bob?

"I choose to be more than Iapetus," said the Titan. "You do not control me. I am not like my brothers."

The collar of his coveralls bulged. Small Bob leaped out. The kitten landed on the ground in front of his master, then arched his back and hissed at the Lord of the abyss.

As Annabeth watched, Small Bob began to grow, his form flickering until the little kitten had become a full-sized, translucent skeletal saber-toothed tiger.

"Also," Bob announced, "I have a good cat."

No-Longer-Small Bob sprang at Tartarus, sinking his claws into Tartarus' thigh. The tiger scrambled up his leg, straight under the God's chain-link skirt. Tartarus stomped and howled, apparently no longer enamored with having a physical form. Meanwhile, Bob thrust his spear into the God's side, right below his breastplate.

Tartarus roared. He swatted at Bob, but the Titan backed out of reach. Bob thrust out his fingers. His spear yanked itself free of the God's flesh and flew back to Bob's hand, which made Annabeth gulp in amazement. She'd never imagined a broom could have so many useful features. Small Bob dropped out of Tartarus' skirt. He ran to his master's side, his saber-toothed fangs dripping with golden ichor.

You will die first, Iapetus, Tartarus decided. Afterward, I will add your soul to my armor, where it will slowly dissolve, over and over, in eternal agony.

Tartarus pounded his fist against his breastplate. Milky faces swirled in the metal, silently screaming to get out.

Bob turned toward Percy and Annabeth. The Titan grinned, which probably would not have been Annabeth's reaction to a threat of eternal agony.

"Take the Doors," Bob said. "I will deal with Tartarus."

Tartarus threw back his head and bellowed — creating a vacuum so strong that the nearest flying demons were pulled into his vortex face and shredded.

Deal with me? the God mocked. You are only a Titan, a lesser child of Gaea! I will make you sufferer for your arrogance. And as for your tiny mortal friends . . .

Tartarus swept his hand toward the monster army, beckoning them forward. DESTROY THEM!

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