SPARTA was just as she remembered, and just like the last time her nerves were nearly nullified by Annabeth's insistence on checking out just about every important site. Aza didn't mind the archaeology museum (of the museums she'd been dragged to, it was one of the most fun), but the National Museum of Olives and Olive Oil was unnecessary (to her) at best. Aza didn't want, or need, to know nearly as many olive facts as she did now – most of which she learned from her best friend.
Between Annabeth on her left and Piper on her right, anxiety buzzed around her head like an effervescent fly, and Aza's internal monologue begged for an end to the suffering. She remembered that awful human-fly hybrid from the movie The Fly, screaming, "Help meeeee," and shivered, shifting her mind as best she could from the way Clarisse would incessantly torture them as children, after she goaded Aza into watching it (knowing full well it would scar her).
It was just one of those days, she decided, only minutes after waking up ever so pleasantly to Annabeth beating two shields together and hollering at the top of her lungs. Piper had the decency to give a bashful smile – from a safe distance behind the blonde – as she began to recount her dream.
Nightmare was far more accurate. Aza's family trauma seemed far less important after Piper recounted the giants' discussion, from the Acropolis. Finally, their enemy was planning to strike and they were still scrambling to place the pieces on the board. Not only was a small force awaiting them in Sparta, but Athens – the Parthenon, sacred to Athena and heart of the Olympians – crawled with foe, old and new. Even Porphyrion, who nearly killed her, was a plaything compared to Thoon, who mirrored the Three Fates and aimed to strangle the few beings even the Olympians feared.
There was no choice, but to push on. Leo was probably still repairing the Argo's toilets, which synchronously burst the instant Percy heard their plight. Luckily, the handy little bugger made their mast electricity-friendly, so when the loud-outh son of Poseidon tattled and lightning struck the top, it was easily conducted. Sparta looked friendly, compared to Annabeth and Aza's boyfriends.
All of it, but the ruins on the edge of town. On the hill, which once housed Sparta's acropolis, Aza could clearly see her sister's tomb, down the gentle slope, nestled in a small clearing of yellow grass and trampled wildflowers. The rest of the ruins stretched out for almost a quarter mile: weathered limestone blocks, worn to almost the base, and some sections of marble floor. A couple crumbling walls slept in the shade of an olive-tree grove.
Piper wiped the sweat from her brow and eagerly accepted Annabeth's extra bottle of water. She raised a finger as she chugged it and wiped her mouth before panting, "You'd think a thirty-foot-tall giant would be a little easier to find."
Aza chuckled dryly. "You'd think, but don't we always say that?"
Expecting Annabeth to laugh, she turned towards the blonde. Her eyes were hazy, and she fiddled her red coral pendant, a gift from Percy. Aza met Piper's eyes before slowly reaching forward to tug on a blonde curl. "Thinking about a special someone?"
Annabeth's brows sewed together as she nodded, and Aza's tentative smile slowly faded. Of course, they'd been different since coming back from Tartarus – and she knew they would, from the moment she helplessly watched them tumble into infernal darkness. Sometimes, their eyes reminded her of Nico's, like a shattered stained-glass window.
Piper's voice was soft. "He seems to be adjusting. He's smiling more often. You know he cares about you more than ever."
"That's never been a question," Aza's lips twitched. "That boy is pathetically head-over-heels for her – he always has been. Percy'll bounce back. He always does."
The blood drained from Annabeth's face. She sat harshly atop a crumbling stone wall, rested her chin in her hands and stared at the withering grass. "I don't know why it's hitting me so hard all of the sudden. I just – I can't quite get that memory out of my head, you know? How... how Percy looked, standing at the edge of chaos."
Sulfur began to burn the inside of Aza's nostrils, and her gut twisted uncomfortably. There was something... tired, about the anxiety which crept up her spine. The same exhaustion in fear which began to numb her. She sat beside Annabeth and wrapped an arm around the girl's shoulders. With a gentle hand, Aza cradled her best friend's curls and slowly pulled her head to rest atop her shoulder.
"Give him time," Piper claimed a seat on the blonde's other side. "He's crazy about you. You've been through so much together."
"I know," Annabeth's voice was hardly a whisper. "It's just... Bob the Titan, he warned me that there would be more sacrifices ahead. I want to believe we can have a normal life someday... But I allowed myself to hope for that last summer, after the Titan War. Then, Percy disappeared for months, and Aza nearly died. Then, we fell into that pit..."
She shuddered, quickly brushing away a stray tear. Aza's heart shattered as the blonde sniffled again and nestled slightly closer. Annabeth inhaled shakily, "If you'd seen the face of the god Tartarus, all swirling darkness, devouring monsters and vaporizing them – I'd never felt so helpless. I try not to think about it."
Aza remembered the goddess Mania, and the terror she'd felt in her own mind. She was helpless to her friends being slaughtered – nothing she could do would ever help. She took a deep breath and placed her cheek atop Annabeth's head.
"You, Annabeth Chase, are not helpless. You are one of the strongest, bravest and driven people I have ever met; every day, you make me a little bit of a better person – a little bit of a stronger demigod. And, I'll give you the same advice the wisest person I know gave me: you can't shut out your feelings; all you'll do is delay the day until you explode."
A soft chuckle adorned Annabeth's breathy exhale, and she sniffled with a half-hearted smile. "They seem pretty smart, huh?"
"Very," Piper rolled her eyes. "Why don't you try it, right now. How are you feeling, Annabeth?"
Aza knew the answer – felt it – before Annabeth's whisper floated in the breeze with dandelion seeds. "I'm scared. Gods, I'm terrified."
"You're angry," Piper guessed."
"Yeah," Annabeth nodded, her brows sewing together as she searched for the right words. "Yeah, I am. I'm mad at Percy for scaring me, and my mom for sending me on that awful quest. I'm mad at... well, pretty much everyone. Mother Earth. The giants. The gods, for being jerks."
"They're giant jerks," Aza scoffed. She lifted her head and tentatively met Annabeth's eyes, brushing aside a few curls to make it possible. "So am I. You're mad at me."
Annabeth deflated with her exhale and laughed half-heartedly. "Yes, for being a know-it-all. And, I'm mad at you for being so... reckless. For acting like your life matters less than ours. Like it wouldn't destroy us to lose you."
Aza's breath caught in her throat. Regret pooled in the pit of her stomach, and guilt sunk like a heavy stone. "I – I'm sorry. You're right, I have been reckless. I need to slow down and focus."
"And Piper, for being so gods-damn calm all the time."
Piper snorted. "It's all a lie."
"And the two of you, for being good friends and actually caring."
"My bad," Aza rolled her eyes. "From now on, I'll be despicable."
Without any force, Annabeth slapped Aza's thigh and sniffled, furiously wiping her eyes, then her nose. "I'm so stupid, sitting here, talking about my feelings, when we have a quest to finish."
Anxiety rose through Aza's body in blazing heat, pooling at the top of her chest. Her heart hammered against her ribcage, demanding to be released, but she ignored it and managed the best smile she could. "We asked, didn't we? You, and your feelings, are important to us."
"Whatever happens," Piper's smile didn't quite meet her eyes. "I'm your friend. Just... remember that, okay?"
Before either could speak, a roar echoed from the west, somewhere in the marble ruins. From a stone-line pit, a three-story geyser of flames erupted and extinguished within a moment. Aza thought she imagined it – finally, she began hallucinating – until Piper's eyes widened into saucers and she half-squeaked, "What was that?"
Annabeth ran a hand through her curls and sighed heavily. "I don't know, but I have a feeling we should check it out."
There were three stone-lined pits, in a neat line. Each one was perfectly round, lined with limestone, and descended into darkness. Every couple of seconds, one of the pits shot a column of fire as if competing to reach the sun. It was never the same – the left one coughed a pathetic green flame barely taller than them, but the center erupted in violet fury and could have scorched a hole through the clouds. Each time, it was different.
"They didn't do this before," Annabeth scanned the pits, making her second round in a wide arc around them. "There doesn't seem to be any pattern. The timing, the color, the height of the fire... I don't get it."
"Did we activate them somehow?" Piper scratched her chin. "Maybe that surge of fear you felt on the hill... uh, we felt."
Aza nodded slowly. Why hadn't she thought of that? The pits were exactly like the campfire at home, which would brush against the sky with their favorite songs and simmer pathetically when Mr. D destroyed the mood. Yellow for glee, blue for melancholy.
It made sense, and even Aza knew, but Annabeth didn't seem to hear. Instead, she stroked her chin and took a step closer, leaning her head over one of the pits. "There must be some kind of mechanism... a pressure plate, a proximity alarm. Something."
Flames erupted from the middle pit, and Aza watched as Annabeth counted under her breath. Only a couple seconds later, a geyser burst from the left. The blonde frowned and shook her head – she tugged harshly on a curl, before meeting Aza's gaze and slowly dropping her hand. "That's not right. It's inconsistent. It doesn't make sense. It has to follow some kind of logic."
Aza's nostrils began to burn – not just sulfur, something hot enough to clear her sinuses – and someone fisted her stomach, clenching it tightly between their fingers, and slowly twisted it within her chest. There was something wrong with the pits, and Piper shocked her into realization. Each time a flame burst from one, some thrill went through her – fear, panic – but like a roller-coaster, it was addicting; she wanted more. She wanted to get closer to the flames.
Maybe Aza could resist it, and Piper figured it out, but Annabeth's cloudy eyes seemed to shatter – not a silver lining, but one so dark it may as well have been midnight.
"Not everything has to be logical, Annie," Aza wet her lips and took a step closer to the blonde. The air felt thick in her lungs and heavy on her shoulders. Another twist of her gut pulled her forward.
"It's emotional," Piper's arms outstretched a fraction. Aza froze, but she looked back and forth between Annabeth and Piper. Of the three of them, Aza was arguably the closest to a pyromaniac, but she seemed to be the only one who didn't want to get cozy in the pit.
Another step towards Annabeth, then a third. Annabeth's eyes looked glossy, and she harshly ran her bottom lip through her teeth. "How can fire pits be emotional?"
Piper held her hand over the rightmost pit. Instantly, violet flames licked her palms and she cradled her hand in her chest. Her nails steamed, and her fingers were the same hot, angry shade as Aza's eyes – never a good sign.
"Piper!" Aza's sharp scream muffled Annabeth's concerned echo. The two ran over, and Annabeth gently took Piper's hand in her own to examine. "What were you thinking?"
"I – I wasn't. I was feeling. What we want is down there. These pits are the way in. I'll have to jump."
Aza sliced her hand over her neck viciously. "Absolutely not – what? We don't know how deep it is! –"
"You could be burned alive," Annabeth interrupted.
Piped unbuckled her sword and tossed it towards Aza. "You're right. I'll let you know if it's safe. Wait for my word, or my agonizing screams. Whichever seems more concrete."
"Piper," Aza warned.
At the same time, Annabeth's brows flew towards her forehead, and her voice dropped half an octave, "Don't you dare."
Of course, Piper saluted them and leapt into the pit. And, of course, Aza was a second too late as she launched herself and snatched the empty air. The earth rushed against her too quickly to raise her arms, and she smacked against the dirt on the other side. Her head was a mallet against the earth, and the bass drum echoed in her skull.
"Idiots!" Annabeth – all three of her – threw her hands to the sky like she cursed the gods for ever having met them.
"Piper!" Aza called, pushing herself to stand. Either her vision was wavy or she was swaying, or both, and it certainly didn't help that she shook her head and rattled her brain around like a mixed drink. Piper was more important. Eventually, there'd only be one Annabeth, and the ground would probably still.
"Yeah?" Her voice was faint, but clear.
Aza picked an Annabeth and shared a relieved glance with her. She chose wrong. There were only two, now, but they approached with a frown and waved a hand.
"Are you okay?" Aza called down the pit, before glancing back and waving off her worried friend with a dismissive roll of her eyes.
"Yeah. Hold on a sec."
It was less than a minute, maybe two, but Aza and Annabeth took turns preventing the other from leaping down and making sure their friend was okay. Piper was more than capable of handling herself, but Aza couldn't help but to worry. She wouldn't forgive herself if something happened.
"Guys," she finally called back up, "it's a long drop, but it's safe to come down. Maybe... uh, you have a rope we could fasten so we can get back up?"
"On it!" Annabeth slid her backpack off and unzipped it. The two made quick work of securing it to a tree and dropped it into the pit. After a few quick, hefty tugs, Piper confirmed it was secure.
Aza shimmied down as best she could and scowled up at Annabeth once she began to cackle quietly. She dropped down the rest of the way and landed in a crouch. She called back up, "You're good – come on down."
It took her eyes a second to adjust, and she took her cuff off and ran her fingers over the inscription. The bronze helped to illuminate the round chamber, with high ceilings and walls chiseled with thousands of Greek inscriptions, like graffiti. A bronze statue stood at the far wall – a warrior, bound in heavy chains. Two dark doorways loomed on either side, guarded with a stone face over each archway. She recognized her father's symbol instantly – his harsh, angular face with a lion's mane.
A few seconds later, Annabeth shimmied down. The instant both feet were down, she folded her arms over her chest and whirled around. "Piper McLean, that was without a doubt the dumbest risk I've ever seen anyone take, and I'm standing next to the dumbest risk-taker."
"Hey!" Aza stuck out her tongue and lightly stepped on her toes.
"Thank you," Piper nudged a decapitated bronze dragon-head with her foot. "I'm guessing these are dragons of Ares. That's one of his sacred animals, right?"
"And there he is," Aza used her sword to point, "Where do you think those doorways –"
Piper raised a hand. "Do you hear that?"
Aza hesitated, and the three held their breath. It took her a moment to strain her ears, and a sudden chill overcame her once the faint drumbeat seemed to grow louder, impossible to ignore in an instant. The hairs on the back of her neck prickled at the metallic echo, and every inch of her screamed to move away, but she inexplicably took a step closer. "Please, don't tell me that's coming from the statue."
Her friends' examined her oddly. The statue beckoned her closer, looming larger with each beat, and it was difficult to tear her gaze. Piper's lips tightened, and she nodded crisply. "The heartbeat of the chained god."
Annabeth drew her sword. It was difficult to place which was paler: she or the drakon-bone. With every heartbeat, she grew paler. "I – I don't like this. We need to leave."
Every part of Aza wanted to agree, but her gaze couldn't stray from the statue for long. She didn't want to leave; something about her wanted to sit on the rock and bask in its bronze light. "No – I feel fine. The shrine is amplifying our emotions. It's playing on our fear. Reach out your hands."
Dutifully, her friends extended their forearms and allowed her to trace her fingers down the center, following the veins of both friends in a gentle motion like the prolonged strum of a harp. Feeling resistance at their fingertips, Aza first thought they were dripping blood. But, no, it wasn't blood – a thin, garnet mist seeped from their skin to hers.
Aza reached for her sword. "How do you feel?"
"Fine," Annabeth admitted, scanning her hands. "I'll be better once we're out of here. We need a plan to get the statue out. Maybe we could haul it up with the rope, but –"
"Wait," Piper's eyes trained on the snarling stone faces above the doorways. "A shrine that radiates fear. Aza, you don't think –"
She squinted just to be sure. "That's him, all right. Can't you see the resemblance?"
"Ha-ha," Piper chuckled sarcastically. "Oh, wait. Actually, yeah... yeah, you have the same jaw and nose. It's their faces above the door, so it can't just be a shrine to Ares. It's a temple of fear."
Aza would've enjoyed the revelation, had it not been for the deep laughter which echoed immediately throughout the chamber. The giant appeared on Piper's right, emerging from the darkness as though he'd been there all along – maybe he had. His armor, skin and dragon-scale legs were the color of the shadows he crept from. Copper wires, the only color aside from his matching twenty-foot sledgehammer, glittered in his tar-colored hair,
Though he was small for a giant, not over thirty feet tall, they couldn't have reached his chin if the three climbed atop each-others shoulder, and his biceps were too thick to encircle in any group hug.
The giant's smile revealed more color – sandy brown teeth. "Very good, child of Aphrodite. This is indeed the Temple of Fear. And I am here to make you believers," his grin widened a fraction. "But, my fight lies neither with you nor the daughter of Athena."
Aza raised her chin and readjusted her sword. The giant chuckled. "Aza-Everett Malin, daughter of Phobos – raise your sword. Let us see who truly is the master of fear."