Just before they reached the edge of the barrier, Asterion stopped and pointed toward the de Young Museum. “There.”
The sun was now arcing toward the west, casting a warm afternoon light over Golden Gate Park. On the road in front of the museum, where Hazel might have expected to see a school bus or a public shuttle, there stood an enormous two-wheeled wooden wagon, its top covered with a canvas tarp. Chained to the yoke, instead of horses or oxen, were two Cyclopes.
Pirithous himself was approaching the barrier, flanked by Mary Tudor, Tantalus, and the two red-robed skeletal guards from the courtroom, still holding their double-pronged spears. The judges’ black gowns flowed around them. Their gold masks glinted on ropes around their necks. Mary Tudor and Tantalus looked almost bored, annoyed even, but Pirithous was beaming with excitement.
A few mortals passed by, enjoying their afternoon in the park, but none of them acknowledged the strange procession. Hazel concluded that the Mist must still be working, but that didn’t reassure her. She didn’t like the expression on Pirithous’s face.
While the judges were still out of earshot, she turned to Asterion. “Any idea what this means?”
“No,” admitted the bull-man. “But I do have some good news. It appears thereisa limit to the dodecahedron’s reach underground. The diggers are close. I have asked them to keep working while we deal with…whatever our jailers want.”
Hazel allowed herself a moment of relief. “Thank the gods. Because I’ll be honest with you—I’m not feeling very well right now.”
“Neither am I,” Quinoa muttered. “Even we karpoi require oxygen, and it stinks like Orcus’s farts in here.” He hesitated. “I miss that gassy griffin.”
Hazel scanned the perimeter of their prison. Her heart sank as she noticed more of Pirithous’s allies approaching from all directions. To her right, their old enemy Laverna, her head reattached, was riding what looked like a manticore. To their left, the three gray-robed di inferi were directing a mob of shambling undead, trying to get them to form a line.
“Why are they trying to surround us?” Hazel wondered.
Asterion frowned. He gestured to Rhodope, the orange-feathered leader of the harpies, who immediately flew to his side.
“My friend,” he said, “please check the perimeter. Hazel has noted that Pirithous’s forces seem to be encircling us.”
With a bitter squawk, Rhodope flew off.
Hazel’s hand tightened on her spatha, though she doubted she had the strength for a sword fight. “What are they up to? They can’t seriously think Pluto is going to show up.”
“And yet he appears to believe so,” grumbled Arielle. “And I think that’s all that matters—he believes what he says.”
“There are many of us,” Asterion said, loud enough for the nearby mythics to hear him. “If Pirithous wants a fight, he will get one.”
The mythics muttered in agreement, closing ranks around them. Hazel wanted to feel the same hopefulness and determination, but she mostly just felt pain. Her lungs burned, begging her for more oxygen.
Finally Pirithous’s entourage reached the barrier. Their captor strode forward, a smug look on his face.
“It is time, Hazel Levesque! You can tell your fellow prisoners to stop digging. That is pointless now.”
Dread bloomed in Hazel’s chest. Apparently, Pirithous had been keeping tabs on their activities.
“If you think we’re giving up,” she growled, “that’s never happening. Wewillbreak out of here.”
Pirithous laughed like this was an excellent joke.
“You misunderstand me, dear girl,” he said. “You can stop digging because you don’tneedto find a way out. I’m setting you all free.”
Nico had seen a lot of strange things in his life, but a minivan full of demigods and mythics wearing Cocoa Puffs as chest accessories was certainly at the top of his list.
Despite their day of training, each member of the team was struggling in their own way with their ride-along emotion. Savannah’s eyes were bloodshot from crying with Grief. Deion kept kicking the floorboards in frustration as Anger grinned toothily in his pouch. Even Orcus squirmed as Jealousy poked its tusks into his back.
Semele was the only one without a cacodemon, so it was hard to tell how she was feeling. However, Nico was just glad she was a wisp of smoke. There wouldn’t have been a seat for her in the crowded Chevy otherwise.
Meanwhile, Naomi hummed cheerfully as she drove them over the Bay Bridge. Nico imagined she was coming up with lyrics for a new hit song, “Vanload of Emotions.”
Orcus whimpered. “I don’t like this feeling. Can I have someone else’s feeling?”
“That’s just Jealousy making you feel jealous,” Nico said. “It’ll be worth it, I promise.”
He opened his bomber jacket to check on Defiance, who puffed up and glared at him like,Yeah, I’m still here. What are you gonna do about it?
