The Tyrant's Tomb

Georgina, Leo, and Calypso, all of us sitting around the dinner table
chopping vegetables from the garden for dinner; at the Cistern in Palm
Springs with Meg, Grover, Mellie, Coach Hedge, and a prickly assortment of
cactus dryads; and now at Camp Jupiter, where the anxious, grief-stricken
Romans, despite their many problems, despite the fact that I brought misery
and disaster wherever I went, had welcomed me with respect, a room above
their coffee shop, and some lovely bed linens to wear.
These places were homes. Whether I deserved to be part of them or not
—that was a different question.
I wanted to linger in those good memories. I suspected I might be dying
—perhaps in a coma on the forest floor as ghoul poison spread through my
veins. I wanted my last thoughts to be happy ones. My brain had different
ideas.
I found myself in the cavern of Delphi.
Nearby, dragging himself through the darkness, wreathed in orange and
yellow smoke, was the all-too-familiar shape of Python, like the world’s
largest and most rancid Komodo dragon. His smell was oppressively sour—a
physical pressure that constricted my lungs and made my sinuses scream.
His eyes cut through the sulfuric vapor like headlamps.
“You think it matters.” Python’s booming voice rattled my teeth. “These
little victories. You think they lead to something?”
I couldn’t speak. My mouth still tasted like bubble gum. I was grateful
for the sickly sweetness—a reminder that a world existed outside of this
cave of horrors.
Python lumbered closer. I wanted to grab my bow, but my arms were
paralyzed.
“It was for nothing,” he said. “The deaths you caused—the deaths you
will cause—they don’t matter. If you win every battle, you will still lose the
war. As usual, you don’t understand the true stakes. Face me, and you will
die.”
He opened his vast maw, slavering reptilian lips pulled over glistening
teeth.
“GAH!” My eyes flew open. My limbs flailed.
“Oh, good,” said a voice. “You’re awake.”
I was lying on the ground inside some sort of wooden structure, like…
ah, a stable. The smells of hay and horse manure filled my nostrils. A burlap
blanket prickled against my back. Peering down at me were two unfamiliar