TERRIFIED . . . annabeth chase

fifty.

VAL WAS RELIEVED when the demon grandmothers closed in for the kill.

Sure, she was terrified. She didn't like the odds of four against several dozen. But at least she understood fighting. A little bit.

Besides, she, Percy, and Annabeth had fought together many times, together and apart. And now they had a Titan on their side.

"Back off." Percy jabbed Riptide at the nearest shriveled hag, but she only sneered.

We are the arai, said that weird voice-over, like the entire forest was speaking. You cannot destroy us.

"Don't touch them," Annabeth warned. "They're the spirits of curses."

"Bob doesn't like curses," Bob decided. The skeleton kitten Small Bob disappeared inside his coveralls. Smart cat.

The Titan swept his broom in a wide arc, forcing the spirits back, 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 many curses to share with you.

"I appreciate the offer," Percy said. "But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers."

The nearest demon lunged. Her claws extended like bony switchblades. Percy cut her in two, but as soon as she vaporized, he stumbled back, clamping his hand to his rib cage. His fingers came away wet and red.

"Percy, you're bleeding!" Annabeth cried, which was kind of obvious at that point. "Oh, gods, on both sides."

It was true. The left and right hems of his tattered shirt were sticky with blood, as if a javelin or an arrow had run him through.

"Geryon," Percy said. "This is how I killed him . . ."

The spirits bared their fangs. More arai leaped from the black trees, flapping their leathery wings.

Yes, they agreed. Feel the pain you inflicted upon Geryon. So many curses have been leveled at you, Percy Jackson. Which will you die from? Choose, or we will rip you apart!

"I don't understand," Percy muttered.

Bob's voice seemed to echo from the end of a long tunnel: "If you kill one, it gives you a curse."

"But if we don't kill them . . ." Annabeth said.

"They'll kill us anyway," Val guessed.

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, Percy Jackson. Let us repay you!

The winged hags pressed in, their breath sour, their eyes burning with hatred. They looked like Furies, but Val decided these things were even worse. At least the three Furies were under the control of Hades. These things were wild, and they just kept multiplying.

Well, at least Val was already cursed.

One of the demons lunged at Annabeth. Instinctively, she dodged. She brought Val's knife down on the old lady's head and broke her into dust.

It wasn't like Annabeth had a choice. Val would've done the same thing. But instantly Annabeth dropped the knife and cried in alarm.

"I can't see!" She touched her face, looking around wildly. Her eyes were pure white.

Percy and Val ran to her side as the arai cackled.

Polyphemus cursed you when you tricked him with your invisibility in the Sea of Monsters. You called yourself Nobody. He could not see you. Now you will not see your attackers.