𝑨𝑺𝑯𝑬𝑺 • 𝑃𝐸𝑅𝐶𝑌 𝐽𝐴𝐶𝐾𝑆𝑂𝑁 ²

THIRTY

  The next image to pass her by had only occurred hours later, on the Princess Andromeda. Luke had always been a skilled swordsman, but this time, he was just that little bit better. Judith couldn't watch as Backbiter sliced through Percy's chest with precision.

The daughter of Ares didn't have time to prepare herself for the next set of visions. Dr. Thorn's poison had been too much for Percy to handle, and Judith had to watch as his head slumped down against her younger self's shoulder, his breath leaving him slowly. Something slipped down her cheek as she saw his tanned skin turn pale and his eyes glaze over.

And then it was the Nemean Lion, clawing through Percy's abdomen. The skeleton warriors and their pistols taking Percy's life with little more than a twitch of their fingers. Percy sacrificing himself in place of Bianca when faced with the celestial bronze automaton. Atlas crashing down upon him with the force of an ancient and unfailing Titan. The labyrinth and its many horrors. Geryon's Ranch and the Sphinx. And Judith's breathing picked up as reruns of the Mount St. Helens explosion ran in front of her at Hephaestus' forge. And then she was standing beside Percy's shroud for the second time. Except this time around, he never showed up. Didn't crash his own funeral, didn't walk up to the pavilion and show his dumb, stupid face.

Antaeus' Arena. Daedalus' workshop. Kronos striking down both Judith's ax and Percy in one swipe. The Battle of the Labyrinth; Percy's name now on the list of the dead, alongside Lee, Castor, and Maya. Struck down by Kampê's scimitars before the hundred-handed-one could stop her.

Both Percy and Beckendorf were lost with the Princess Andromeda, and Judith was left on Camp Half-Blood's beach, waiting for them forevermore.

  And just when Judith had thought she'd reached the end of this torment, there was more. Percy, submerging himself in the Styx and not coming back up. Percy, facing off against Kronos, and being hit in the back, shattering him down to nothing. It was horror interlaced with torture and wrapped up in anguish.

  Judith was no longer standing, no longer breathing. She was screaming, overpowering the sound of her shattering bones and heart. And her hands were buried deep beneath the black sand as she tried to grapple with what was real and what was the horrific lie.

  Percy was dead, dying, going to die. And she was physically incapable of stopping it.

  "Judith," the gravelly voice of Phobos attempted.

  "Get away from me!" She howled, eyes screwed tight to keep in the flood of tears. "Don't touch me, don't you ever touch me again."

  "Percy isn't dead," Deimos tried to console, his voice rough. "He's still in Hades' dungeon, unharmed."

  He couldn't be trusted. Percy had been dead for years. Percy was killed a hundred times over and she hadn't stopped any of it. She was useless.

  "Judith, you don't have to be useless," Phobos said as if he'd read her mind. That, or she was no longer capable of controlling her tongue and she'd been speaking out loud. "Just let us explain what has to happen next."

  "I don't want to hear anything you have to say."

  "You'll want to hear this, we promise." Judith didn't say anything more, giving them the opportunity to continue. "Our father is disappointed in our other siblings. They've forgone the war and are abstaining from the fight."

  "I know. Why are you telling me this?" Judith asked, her throat constricting as she tried to fight back every awful emotion that threatened to break forth.

  "Well, by choosing to fight, Ares believes you've volunteered your services. But since you are just a demigod, you are still weak to him," Deimos said without restraint. "He has a proposition."