I don't own Percy Jackson, Kane Chronicles or Harry Potter.
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I was relieved when the demon grandmothers closed in for the kill.
Sure, I was terrified. I didn't like the odds of two against several dozen. But at least I understood fighting. Wandering through the darkness, waiting to be attacked - that had been driving me crazy.
Besides, I had killed the Minotaur on my own without any training. The Minotaur, even there there's only one of him, is much bigger than the arai. This time, I had a skeleton/kitten/sabre-tooth tiger on my side.
"Back off," I slashed out at the nearest shrivelled hag, but she only sneered.
We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, as if the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.
"Don't touch them," I warned Smithy as he hissed at one of the hags that got too close for comfort. "They're the spirits of curses."
Smithy blinked up at me as if to stay, 'I already knew that. I am a cat. The world kneels at my paws, silly human.' Then he turned back to the arai, a predatory expression on his face as if he intended to fight them alongside me.
Stupid Cat.
Brave Cat.
Smithy lashed out his claws in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back. For some reason, they seemed deathly afraid of Smithy. I would've been fine with that, but they came in again like the tide.
We serve the bitter and the defeated, said the arai. We serve the slain who prayed for vengeance with their final breath. We have so many curses to share with you.
The firewater in my stomach started crawling up my throat. I wished Tartarus had better beverage options, or maybe a tree that dispensed antacid fruit.
"I appreciate the offer," I said. "But my godfather told me not to accept curses from strangers."
Smithy hissed in anger and slashed his claws out at the demons, then looked up at me in concern, his eyes glowing in the dark.
I was bleeding on both sides. The left and right hems of my tattered shirt were sticky with blood as if a javelin had run me through.
Or an arrow...
Queasiness almost knocked me over. Vengeance. A curse from the slain.
I flashed back to an encounter in Texas two years ago - a fight with a monstrous rancher who could only be killed if each of his three bodies was cut through simultaneously.
"Geryon," I said. "This is how I killed him..."
The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leapt from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.
Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been levelled at you, Harilaos Potter. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!
Somehow I managed to stay on my feet. The blood stopped spreading, but I still felt like I had a hot metal curtain rod sticking through my ribs. My sword arm was heavy and weak.
"If I kill one," I realised in horror. "It gives me a curse. But if I don't kill them, they'll kill me anyway."
Choose! The arai cried. Will you be crushed like Kampê? Or disintegrated like the young telkhines you slaughtered under Mount St. Helens? You have spread so much death and suffering, Harilaos Potter. Let us repay you!
The winged hags pressed in, their breath sour, their eyes burning with hatred. They looked like Furies, but I decided that these things were worse. At least the three Furies were under the control of Hades. These things were wild, and they just kept multiplying.
If they really embodied the dying curses of every enemy I had ever destroyed... then I was in serious trouble. I'd faced a lot of enemies.
One of the demons lunged at me. Instinctively, I dodged, then brought Syntyche down on the old lady's head and broke her into dust. It wasn't like I had much of a choice. It was - literally - kill or be killed, except if I killed then I would be cursed. There was really no way to win.
Instantly I felt as if every part of my body was being compressed and squeezed. Not only that, but I felt as if I was being stabbed with a thousand knives.
The curse of the Fallen Legion! Cackled the arai. I swore, knowing precisely what they were talking about. You drowned them after creating an avalanche. You cannot drown, but now you will feel the pain of it.
I swore so violently that one of the arai fell off where she was perched, but she quickly recovered and lunged at me. I ducked, and Smithy leapt forward to finish her off.
I watched him anxiously for any sign of injury, but he merely mewled at me as if to say, 'I am a cat, silly human. We cannot be cursed.'
Briefly, I considered breathing a sigh of relief, but I decided against it. I didn't want to jinx it.
I gripped Syntyche, the black-glass stained with yellow monster dust, and the arai snarled and circled, eyeing it warily.
Smithy and I stood next to each other, back to back - despite our significant height difference, it seemed to work - and the arai shifted and shuffled. I could tell that they were wary of Smithy, and I was half scared of finding out why. To be honest, it could simply be that Smithy couldn't be cursed.
Suddenly, one of the hags lunged from behind me, and I whipped around to slice it in half. Fortunately for me, I didn't have to. Smithy leapt up and sank his claws into the demon, shredding it to pieces. I turned around just in time to decapitate another demon. Not stopping long enough to figure out what kind of curse I had received, I called over to Smithy as loudly as my hoarse voice would allow.
"Run!" I croaked as the demons closed in.
We darted to the left, slicing through the arai to clear a path. I probably brought down a dozen curses on myself, but I didn't feel them right away, so I kept running, Smithy at my heels the whole way, taking down just as many of the demons with his sharp little claws and pointy little teeth. Suddenly, he didn't seem so innocent anymore.
The pain in my chest flared with each step. I weaved between the trees, leading Smithy at a full sprint into the darkness.
Leathery wings beat the air above me. Angry hissing and the scuttling of clawed feet told me the demons were at our backs and that Smithy was doing an excellent job of re-defining the term 'psychopath' if the demon-screams were anything to go by.
As I ran past one of the black trees, I slashed my knife across the trunk. I heard it topple, followed by the satisfying crunch of several dozen arai as they were smashed flat.
If a tree falls in the forest and crushes a demon, then does the tree get cursed? I briefly wondered as I ran past another tree, but those thoughts were driven from my mind when an arai dropped down in front of me, only to be slaughtered by Smithy.
I slashed at another arai as I kept running and called a 'Thank You' over my shoulder, only to see Smithy reappear at my feet, running alongside me. He raised his kitty-eyebrow at me as if to say, 'What are you staring at, human?'
I slashed down another trunk, then another. It bought us a few seconds, but not enough. Suddenly the darkness in front of me became thicker. I realised what it meant just in time. I grabbed Smithy by the scruff right before we both charged off the edge.
Immediately, I set him back down, but Smithy merely whipped around with his back to the massive cliff at my heels and hissed at the oncoming arai. I couldn't see how far the cliff dropped. It could be ten feet or a thousand. There was no telling what was at the bottom. I could jump and hope for the best, but I doubted 'the best' ever happened in Tartarus.
So, two options: right or left, following the edge.
I was about to choose randomly when Smithy hissed, and a winged demon descended in front of me, hovering over the void on her bat wings, just out of knife reach.
Did you have a nice walk? Asked the collective voice, echoing all around me.
I turned. The arai poured out of the woods, making a crescent around me. One grabbed my arm, but I didn't give it any time to try and kill me. I judo-flipped the monster and dropped onto its neck, putting my whole body weight into an elbow strike that would've made any pro-wrestler proud.
The demon disintegrated, but when I got to my feet, I suddenly collapsed back down, an impossibly heavy weight on my back that I recognised almost immediately.
The demons hissed in delight. The Curse of Atlas! They shrieked in joy, hissing their laughter as Smithy mewed in concern, gently rubbing his face up against mine. Sweat poured down my face as I struggled with the old burden that I still had nightmares about. The Weight of The Sky is upon you once more, Harilaos Potter! It will be your final sensation!
I struggled and cursed as the arai hissed and laughed at my pain. I remembered Atlas and how I had fought him up on Mount Tamalpais. For a brief time, I had borne the weight of the Sky, and it had been the heaviest thing I had ever been forced to support. Now, I was much weaker than before and suffering from multiple other curses. I didn't doubt that my end was coming. The only reason they hadn't killed me yet is that they were enjoying my pain.
I clenched my jaw as I experienced a wave of fury so powerful my whole body shook with hatred. I had been in Tartarus for Olympus Knows how long, and I had nearly died so often that it was almost funny. But now, I was bearing a burden so heavy that simple things like breathing had suddenly become an issue.
My whole body shook and trembled like a tower of cards as I heaved and gasped for air, even the foul, toxic oxygen of Tartarus.
It felt like my heart was contracting into a tight fist, and my bones were turned to mush.
In the corner of my eye, I saw that some of my hair had fallen into my face and was now a stark grey. Not just a strand, but a good strip of hair had turned white, and I realised with horror that I needed more firewater. Unfortunately, I wasn't in any situation to drink from my hipflask.
I panted in pain as the weight bore down on me, choking me of breath as my heart pounded itself out of my chest with so much force that I could feel my pulse in my lips.
I gasped and panted for breath as the arai cackled and jeered. I bit back a cry of pain. I knew that my life would never be easy, but I had never thought that this would be my fate.
Suddenly, the image of Hogwarts Castle filled my mind, and I bit back a sob. I hadn't seen Hogwarts in so long, and I missed it like I would miss a limb.
I missed Ron, and Hermione, and Sirius, and Mrs Weasly, and Mr Weasley, and Fred, and George, and Remus, and Seamus, and Dean and Neville. I missed my friends in the Wizarding World so much that it was almost painful to think about them. Heck, I even missed Snape! At least he never tried to kill me!
I closed my eyes as I thought about Ginny. I had to get back to the Mortal World.
If I didn't, I would cease to exist, leaving everyone I loved and cared about wondering what had happened to me.
No. I wouldn't let that happen. I knew that I would die one day, and I was okay with that. But not here and not now.
I gritted my teeth and braced every bone in my body as I hitched my breath in my throat and steeled my limbs. I bit my tongue to keep from screaming from the waves upon waves of pain that pounded down upon me as I forced myself to stand.
My legs - especially my broken ankle - buckled, and my arms shook while my stomach clenched painfully. But I was standing, and the expressions on the demon ladies' faces made every ounce of blinding agony completely worth it. I steeled myself as I raised Syntyche, determined to fight my way out of Tartarus. Never again would I accept death. Not until I reached the Mortal World.
I yelled in fury and charged.
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