“Thanatos can reclaim them,” Annabeth said. “Death goes back to normal, and the monsters lose their shortcut to the mortal world. ”
Percy exhaled. “Easy-peasy. Except for…well, everything. ”
Small Bob purred.
“I will push the button,” Bob volunteered.
A mix of feelings churned in Percy’s gut—grief, sadness, gratitude, and guilt thickening into emotional cement. “Bob, we can’t ask you to do that. You want to go through the Doors too. You want to see the sky again, and the stars, and—”
“I would like that,” Bob agreed. “But someone must push the button. And once the chains are cut…my brethren will fight to stop your passage. They will not want the Doors to disappear. ”
Percy gazed at the endless horde of monsters. Even if he let Bob make this sacrifice, how could one Titan defend himself against so many for twelve minutes, all while keeping his finger on a button?
The cement settled in Percy’s stomach. He had always suspected how this would end. He would have to stay behind. While Bob fended off the army, Percy would hold the elevator button and make sure Annabeth got to safety.
Somehow, he had to convince her to go without him. As long as she was safe and the Doors disappeared, he could die knowing he’d done something right.
“Percy…?” Annabeth stared at him, a suspicious edge to her voice.
She was too smart. If he met her eyes, she would see exactly what he was thinking.
“First things first,” he said. “Let’s cut those chains. ”
“IAPETUS!” HYPERION BELLOWED. “Well, well. I thought you were hiding under a cleaning bucket somewhere. ”
Bob lumbered forward, scowling. “I was not hiding. ”
Percy crept toward the right side of the Doors. Annabeth sneaked toward the left. The Titans gave no sign of noticing them, but Percy took no chances. He kept Riptide in pen form. He crouched low, stepping as quietly as possible. The lesser monsters kept a respectful distance from the Titans, so there was enough empty space to maneuver around the Doors; but Percy was keenly aware of the snarling mob at his back.
Annabeth had decided to take the side Hyperion was guarding, on the theory that Hyperion was more likely to sense Percy. After all, Percy was the last one to have killed him in the mortal world. That was fine with Percy. After being in Tartarus for so long, he could barely look at Hyperion’s burning golden armor without getting spots in his eyes.
On Percy’s side of the Doors
, Krios stood dark and silent, his ram’s-headed helmet covering his face. He kept one foot planted on the chain’s anchor and his thumb on the UP button.
Bob faced his brethren. He planted his spear and tried to look as fierce as possible with a kitten on his shoulder. “Hyperion and Krios. I remember you both. ”
“Do you, Iapetus?” The golden Titan laughed, glancing at Krios to share the joke. “Well, that’s good to know! I heard Percy Jackson turned you into a brainwashed scullery maid. What did he rename you…Betty?”
“Bob,” snarled Bob.
“Well, it’s about time you showed up, Bob. Krios and I have been stuck here for weeks—”
“Hours,” Krios corrected, his voice a deep rumble inside his helmet.
“Whatever!” Hyperion said. “It’s boring work, guarding these doors, shuffling monsters through at Gaea’s orders. Krios, what’s our next group, anyway?”
“Double Red,” said Krios.
Hyperion sighed. The flames glowed hotter across his shoulders. “Double Red. Why do we go from A-22 to Double Red? What kind of system is that?” He glared at Bob. “This is no job for me—the Lord of Light! Titan of the East! Master of Dawn! Why am I forced to wait in the darkness while the giants go into battle and get all the glory? Now, Krios I can understand—”
“I get all the worst assignments,” Krios muttered, his thumb still on the button.
“But me?” Hyperion said. “Ridiculous! This should be your job, Iapetus. Here, take my place for a while. ”
Bob stared at the Doors, but his gaze was distant—lost in the past. “The four of us held down our father, Ouranos,” he remembered. “Koios, and me, and the two of you. Kronos promised us mastery of the four corners of the earth for helping with the murder. ”
“Indeed,” Hyperion said. “And I was happy to do it! I would’ve wielded the scythe myself if I’d had the chance! But you, Bob…you were always conflicted about that killing, weren’t you? The soft Titan of the West, soft as the sunset! Why our parents named you the Piercer, I will never know. More like the Whimper. ”
Percy reached the anchor hook. He uncapped his pen and Riptide grew to full length. Krios didn’t react. His attention was firmly fixed on Bob, who had just leveled the point of his spear at Hyperion’s chest.
“I can still pierce,” Bob said, his voice low and even. “You brag too much, Hyperion. You are bright and fiery, but Percy Jackson defeated you anyway. I hear you became a nice tree in Central Park. ”
Hyperion’s eyes smoldered. “Careful, brother. ”
“At least a janitor’s work is honest,” Bob said. “I clean up after others. I leave the palace better than I found it. But you…you do not care what messes you make. You followed Kronos blindly. Now you take orders from Gaea. ”
“She is our mother!” Hyperion bellowed.
“She did not wake for our war on Olympus,” Bob recalled. “She favors her second brood, the giants. ”
Krios grunted. “That’s true enough. The children of the pit. ”