The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus, #4)

by Rick Riordan

When they needed a drink, the best they could do was sip some refreshing liquid fire. Yep. Percy definitely knew how to show a girl a good time.

Wow. When he started looking back on the war with Kronos as the good old days—that was sad.

To destroy you a thousand times in the name of Mother Night! “Only a thousand times?” Percy murmured. “Oh, good…I thought we were in trouble.” The circle of demon ladies closed in.

“Uh…what’s the bandana for?” “So no one recognizes me!” Sciron said. “But you introduced yourself,” Jason said. “You’re Sciron.” The bandit’s eyes widened. “How did you— Oh.

“I appreciate the offer,” he said. “But my mom told me not to accept curses from strangers.”

Annabeth wailed in rage, judo-flipping the monster and dropping on its neck, putting her whole body weight into an elbow strike that would’ve made any pro wrestler proud.

“Do you bring weapons?” Rachel shrugged. “I hit Kronos in the eye with this hairbrush once. Otherwise, no.”

“Uh,” Grover Underwood interrupted. “You mean your initials are RA-RA?”

Coach Hedge managed another heroic belch. “Whose palace? And is Dalmatia where those Dalmatian dogs come from? That 101 Dalmatians movie—I still have nightmares.”

“Yes, Jason Grace.” Favonius arched an eyebrow. “I fell in love with a dude. Does that shock you?”

Ask your friends, Cupid said. Frank, Hazel, and Percy met my counterpart, Thanatos. We are not so different. Except Death is sometimes kinder.

Psyche had been right. Cupid was a monster. Love was the most savage monster of all.

“I had a crush on Percy,” Nico spat. “That’s the truth. That’s the big secret.”

“I’m coming back for you, Calypso,” he said to the night wind. “I swear it on the River Styx.”

Such fine prizes, I will kill myself!”

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“Oh, don’t kill yourself!” she cried. “We’re not that scary.” The goddess lowered her whip. “What? No, I didn’t mean—”

Thousands of baddies, maybe tens of thousands, all milling restlessly, pressing against one another,

Percy began to realize that every battle he’d ever won had only been a temporary victory. No matter how strong or lucky he was, no matter how many monsters he destroyed, Percy would eventually fail. He was only one mortal. He would get too old, too weak, or too slow. He would die. And these monsters…they lasted forever. They just kept coming back. Maybe it would take them months or years to re-form, maybe even centuries. But they would be reborn. Seeing them assembled in Tartarus, Percy felt as hopeless as the spirits in the River Cocytus. So what if he was a hero? So what if he did something brave? Evil was always here, regenerating, bubbling under the surface. Percy was no more than a minor annoyance to these immortal beings. They just had to outwait him. Someday, Percy’s sons or daughters might have to face them all over again.

Okay, maybe monsters kept coming back forever. But so did demigods. Generation after generation, Camp Half-Blood had endured. And Camp Jupiter. Even separately, the two camps had survived. Now, if the Greeks and Romans could come together, they would be even stronger. There was still hope. He and Annabeth had come this far. The Doors of Death were almost within reach.

Frank was pretty sure the coach wouldn’t be calling Chuck Norris babe.

He wriggled his eyebrows at Frank. “Who’s your best buddy?”

For all she knew, she was drooling as badly as Percy did when he slept.

Until then, my friends, tell the sun and the stars hello for me. And be strong.

The elevator’s easy-listening music didn’t help. If all monsters had to hear that song about liking piña coladas and getting caught in the rain, no wonder they were in the mood for carnage when they reached the mortal world.

“Dude.” Jason gave Percy a bear hug. “Back from Tartarus!” Leo whooped. “That’s my peeps!” Piper threw her arms around Annabeth and cried.

“Bob says hello,” he told the stars. The Argo II sailed into the night.