The new corridor narrowed as they moved forward, its walls slick with condensation and streaked with old soot. The path had changed again, and the way forward felt more like a space where people once lived. But at least the necropolis was behind them. Still, the once warm air was now chilly; once dry as bone, it now felt wet. They didn't know if it was a good sign, but they had already been moving for two days, hoping to find another fountain.

  At a four-way intersection, Jason stopped and held the light spell aloft, its glow flickering against the damp stone. The air suddenly smelled of mildew and something metallic—blood, maybe, or rust.

  "Err?"

  "Yeah, how about this way?" Annabeth walked ahead, sword drawn, pointing down another hallway that happened to be opposite the smell.

  "Sure, but give me a second," Jason said, taking one look down the dark corridors before pulling out a scroll case they had found two days earlier, keeping a dozen or so slips of parchment in good condition. It was one of several items found in a room full of bones, including a leather jerkin from some animal that fit Annabeth. Much like Jason's dress, it molded to fit her perfectly.

  "Let me get these down, and the two rooms behind us," he said, while adding to the map he started to create.

  Slipping the parchment back into the scroll case, he dusted his fingers from the charcoal stencil before giving Annabeth a thumbs-up.

  They passed through two rooms—one filled with shattered pottery and rotted scrolls, the other a colpsed library, its shelves twisted and falling upon themselves like a deck of cards.

  Jason paused to dig through the debris, uncovering a few intact pages sealed in wax and a rusted key shaped like a tree branch.

  "Anything useful?" Annabeth asked, voice low.

  Jason didn't answer. He was still staring at the key, then held it up.

  "Oh, like what we found on the potions box, or simir enough," Annabeth studied it before looking around. "I don't see any chest or doors where it would fit."

  "Too bad."

  "Yeah, do you want to look at those scrolls now or ter?"

  Jason thought for a moment and put them in his backpack. "Let's wait until we take a break," he said.

  Passing a ceramic jar full of water, the two drank enough to quench their thirst before continuing.

  In the third room, they ran into trouble.

  A low growl echoed from the shadows, followed by the scrape of cws on stone. Jason barely had time to raise his hand before the creature lunged. It was a twisted evil thing with all sinew, bloody red bones, and eyes filled with malice and hate.

  Annabeth moved fast, pushing Jason out of the way just in time as sharp cws bit into the wall like cy.

  "Great Ssh!" she roared, her body glowing for a second.

  Her sword came down, slicing through one arm, but the creature didn't flinch. It twisted, smmed into her, but she spun with the attack, hitting it twice more and inflicting deep, bloody wounds.

  Jason leaped into the fight, driving his dagger into its side, but the bde barely pierced the skin. However, the beast retaliated, and he couldn't dodge out of the way this time. Now, on its hind legs, it reached out and swatted him like a rag doll, sending him spinning across the floor.

  But before it could take another step, Annabeth was in its face. Grabbing the mace from Jason's back, she swung hard with a defiant scream. The impact cracked bone, and the creature shrieked, staggering back. Again, she followed up with another devastating blow.

  Jason, on his side, raised a shaky hand, muttering the incantation for light—not illumination, but something new. The spell burst from his palm, smming into the creature's face, which caused it to stagger.

  "Fucking die already," Annabeth roared, then raised the mace to repeatedly hit the beast on top of its skull until it colpsed on the stone floor.

  She stood silently, panting, then asked, "You okay?"

  Jason sighed, wiping blood from his mouth. "Been better. You?"

  "Fine. Your mace is growing on me."

  Jason didn't smile, rolled over on his back, and closed his eyes. "What the hell was that?"

  Annabeth then knelt beside the creature, inspecting the body. "If you squint really hard, it looks like a bear—a red bloody bear maybe—but close enough. And best of all, not a construct."

  Jason suddenly sat up with a wince. "You're not thinking—"

  "We need food," she said simply. "And this thing's fresh."

  Jason finally managed to crouch beside the carcass, brow furrowed. "So… do we just throw it on a fire and hope it doesn't kill us?"

  Annabeth snorted. She was already slicing through the thick hide with a practiced hand. "If it's like bear meat, we need to cook it really well."

  "I would think we would need to do that anyway," Jason pointed out.

  "True. Let me deal with this; be a good boyfriend and find a pce to make a fire."

  "I'm not," he began, then sighed tiredly. "Sure."

  Finding a good spot in a side chamber—small and filled with broken urns, but at least dry—he called out, "This is a good pce."

  Annabeth looked up and motioned to her backpack. "Why don't you grab all the torches? With your spell, we don't need them anyway."

  "Sounds like a pn. I think I have a few in my pack as well."

  After watching her dismember the corpse in silence for a few minutes, he returned to the room to start the fire, stomach churning.

  Not too long after, the meat sizzled, filling the air with almost a sweet fragrance. Jason stared as the beast cooked, his mind rebelling, but his stomach had other ideas.

  "Not horrible." Annabeth licked her fingers happily and handed him a strip, charred and steaming.

  Jason hesitated.

  "It's not poisoned," Annabeth insisted. "It's fine. I tested a piece and didn't die."

  "Is that supposed to make me feel better?" He took it, chewing slowly. The texture was tough, and the fvor strange—like venison crossed with something unfathomable. But at least it was food—real food.

  "Okay, I've eaten worse."

  "Millie's cooking."

  That caused Jason to snort, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. Millie was one of their friends who lived in their building and used to come by now and then to test a new recipe.

  "Better than mystery meat she brought over st time," Annabeth muttered, biting into her own portion. "Oh, we need to be sure to cook all of this now. We can wrap it in the extra cloth."

  Jason just nodded and continued to eat.

  "Are you sure you're okay?" Annabeth leaned over after the two felt full. "I can see that you wince when you move."

  "Maybe we can rest awhile after we eat?" He nodded reluctantly.

  "Of course."

  With Jason feeling better, they searched the room where they had fought the bear-like creature—a former shrine, judging by the broken altar and faded murals.

  "These are pretty," Annabeth murmured, running her hands on the walls.

  "Feels nice in here."

  "It does."

  Jason then found a small satchel of dried herbs sitting next to some bones, including a small bronze mirror, a vial of something that glowed faintly blue, and more coins.

  Annabeth, however, found a door hidden behind a rotted tapestry. The fabric had almost vanished, but the frame was intact.

  "Well, what do we have here?" She stared at the lock, then called out, "Hey, Jason, what do you think?"

  The tree key fitted perfectly, and the door opened into a narrow stairwell, spiraling downward.

  "I'll go first,"

  Annabeth moved forward, sword drawn, with Jason—still a bit sore—close behind.

  With each step, the air grew colder and cleaner.

  Jason felt the magic before he saw it—like pressure behind his eyes. At the bottom, the room opened into a vast chamber. At its center stood another fountain carved from white stone wrapped in golden vines. Water flowed upward and fell into a crystal-clear pool that shone with the same light as his spell. What stood out was that the tree symbol was etched into the basin.

  Jason's head pounded as he stepped forward, stumbling, unable to help himself, and looked down; the reflection in the water wasn't his own.

  Suddenly, he found himself barefoot in a field of ash, the air burning his lungs.

  The sky above was colorless—neither night nor day, just pale, endless grey. The ground beneath him crunched softly with each step, the fine powder rising around his ankles. No wind. No sound. Fears of a catastrophic volcanic explosion filled his head, and then he spotted a lone figure, maybe twenty paces away.

  The woman wore the same sea-blue dress, the gold embroidery glowing with a light that didn't exist. Her long dark hair was braided with silver thread and looked almost regal, like a crown. She wasn't looking at him but instead stared off into the distance.

  Jason tried to speak, but instead, he continued moving forward, a force other than his own pushing him onward.

  The woman turned her head slightly—just enough for him to see the curve of her cheek and the edge of her mouth. She was whispering a soft, frantic rhythmic chant, but the nguage was unfamiliar, yet not entirely foreign.

  It felt like something he'd heard once, half-asleep in a synagogue on a Saturday morning or buried in the soft melody of a Yiddish lulby his grandmother used to hum.

  “...e?arra...?ulmu...nigin...”

  He reached out.

  The world colpsed when his fingers brushed the edge of her dress. The ash rose like a wave, swallowing them with a roar. He then woke with a start, heart pounding, crying out, filled with unexpected grief.

  Annabeth, who had been drinking from the fountain, looked at him in fright. "What?"

  Jason stared at his trembling hands. "I'm okay. Just a bad dream."