Leo’s hands burst into flame. He blasted the giant, but the darkness consumed his fire. Leo reached for his tool belt. The pockets were sewn shut. He tried to speak—to say anything that would save his life—but he couldn’t make a sound, as if the air had been stolen from his lungs.
My son will not allow any fires tonight, Gaea said from the depths of the warehouse. He is the void that consumes all magic, the cold that consumes all fire, the silence that consumes all speech.
Leo wanted to shout: And I’m the dude that’s all out of here!
His voice didn’t work, so he used his feet. He dashed to the right, ducking under the shadowy giant’s grasping hands, and burst through the nearest doorway.
Suddenly, he found himself at Camp Half-Blood, except the camp was in ruins. The cabins were charred husks. Burned fields smoldered in the moonlight. The dining pavilion had collapsed into a pile of white rubble, and the Big House was on fire, its windows glowing like demon eyes.
Leo kept running, sure the shadow giant was still behind him.
He wove around the bodies of Greek and Roman demigods. He wanted to check if they were alive. He wanted to help them. But somehow he knew he was running out of time.
He jogged toward the only living people he saw—a group of Romans standing at the volleyball pit. Two centurions leaned casually on their javelins, chatting with a tall skinny blond guy in a purple toga. Leo stumbled. It was that freak Octavian, the augur from Camp Jupiter, who was always screaming for war.
Octavian turned to face him, but he seemed to be in a trance. His features were slack, his eyes closed. When he spoke, it was in Gaea’s voice: This cannot be prevented. The Romans move east from New York. They advance on your camp, and nothing can slow them down.
Leo was tempted to punch Octavian in the face. Instead he kept running.
He climbed Half-Blood Hill. At the summit, lightning had splintered the giant pine tree.
He faltered to a stop. The back of the hill was shorn away. Beyond it, the entire world was gone. Leo saw nothing but clouds far below—a rolling silver carpet under the dark sky.
A sharp voice said, “Well?”
Leo flinched.
At the shattered pine tree, a woman knelt at a cave entrance that had cracked open between the tree’s roots.
The woman wasn’t Gaea. She looked more like a living Athena Parthenos, with the same golden robes and bare ivory arms. When she rose, Leo almost stumbled off the edge of the world.
Her face was regally beautiful, with high cheekbones, large dark eyes, and braided licorice-colored hair piled in a fancy Greek hairdo, set with a spiral of emeralds and diamonds so that it reminded Leo of a Christmas tree. Her expression radiated pure hatred. Her lip curled. Her nose wrinkled.
“The tinkerer god’s child,” she sneered. “You are no threat, but I suppose my vengeance must start somewhere. Make your choice. ”
Leo tried to speak, but he was about to crawl out of his skin with panic. Between this hate queen and the giant chasing him, he had no idea what to do.
“He’ll be here soon,” the woman warned. “My dark friend will not give you the luxury of a choice. It’s the cliff or the cave, boy!”
Suddenly Leo understood what she meant. He was cornered. He could jump off the cliff, but that was suicide. Even if there was land under those clouds, he would die in the fall, or maybe he would just keep falling forever.
But the cave… He stared at the dark opening between the tree roots. It smelled of rot and death. He heard bodies shuffling inside, voices whispering in the shadows.
The cave was the home of the dead. If he went down there, he would never come back.
“Yes,” the woman said. Around her neck hung a strange bronze-and-emerald pendant, like a circular labyrinth. Her eyes were so angry, Leo finally understood why mad was a word for crazy. This lady had been driven nuts by hatred. “The House of Hades awaits. You will be the first puny rodent to die in my maze. You have only one chance to escape, Leo Valdez. Take it. ”
She gestured toward the cliff.
“You’re bonkers,” he managed.
That was the wrong thing to say. She seized his wrist. “Perhaps I should kill you now, before my dark friend arrives?”
Steps shook the hillside. The giant was coming, wrapped in shadows, huge and heavy and bent on murder.
“Have you heard of dying in a dream, boy?” the woman asked. “It is possible, at the hands of a sorceress!”
Leo’s arm started to smoke. The woman’s touch was acid. He tried to free himself, but her grip was like steel.
He opened his mouth to scream. The massive shape of the giant loomed over him, obscured by layers of black smoke.
The giant raised his fist, and a voice cut through the dream.
“Leo!” Jason was shaking his shoulder. “Hey, man, why are you hugging Nike?”