A 1

What kind of spiders? Annabeth had no idea. She only knew they were coming for her, and she
only had seconds to figure out a plan.
Annabeth wanted to sob. She wanted someone, anyone, to be here for her. She wanted Leo with
his fire skills, or Jason with his lightning, or Hazel to collapse the tunnel. Most of all she wanted
Percy. She always felt braver when Percy was with her.
I am not going to die here, she told herself. I’m going to see Percy again.
The first spiders were almost to the door. Behind them came the bulk of the army—a black sea of
creepy-crawlies.
Annabeth hobbled to one of the wall sconces and snatched up the torch. The end was coated in
pitch for easy lighting. Her fingers felt like lead, but she rummaged through her backpack and found
the matches. She struck one and set the torch ablaze.
She thrust it into the barricade. The old dry wood caught immediately. Flames leaped to the
cobwebs and roared down the corridor in a flash fire, roasting spiders by the thousands.
Annabeth stepped back from her bonfire. She’d bought herself some time, but she doubted that
she’d killed all the spiders. They would regroup and swarm again as soon as the fire died.
She stepped to the edge of the chasm.
She shined her light into the pit, but she couldn’t see the bottom. Jumping in would be suicide.
She could try to cross one of the bars hand over hand, but she didn’t trust her arm strength, and she
didn’t see how she would be able to haul herself up with a full backpack and a broken ankle once she
reached the other side.
She crouched and studied the beams. Each had a set of iron eye hooks along the inside, set at onefoot
intervals. Maybe the rails had been the sides of a bridge and the middle planks had been removed
or destroyed. But eye hooks? Those weren’t for supporting planks. More like…
She glanced at the walls. The same kind of hooks had been used to hang the shredded tapestries.