The Last Olympian - Magic Wall

“Don’t feel too bad, Percy Jackson,” Hades said. “My ghosts keep me well informed of Kronos’s plans. I can assure you that you had no chance to stop him in time. By tonight, it will be too late for your precious Mount Olympus. The trap will be sprung.”

“What trap?” I demanded. “If you know about it, do something! At least let me tell the other gods!”

Hades smiled. “You are spirited. I’ll give you credit for that. Have fun in my dungeon. We’ll check on you again in—oh, fifty or sixty years.”


[...]


My sword reappeared in my pocket.

Yeah, great timing. Now I could attack the walls all I wanted. My cell had no bars, no windows, not even a door. The skeletal guards shoved me straight through a wall, and it became solid behind me. I wasn’t sure if the room was airtight. Probably. Hades’s dungeon was meant for dead people, and they don’t breathe. So forget fifty or sixty years. I’d be dead in fifty or sixty minutes. Meanwhile, if Hades wasn’t lying, some big trap was going to be sprung in New York by the end of the day, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.

I sat on the cold stone floor, feeling miserable.

I don’t remember dozing off. Then again, it must’ve been about seven in the morning, mortal time, and I’d been through a lot.


[...]


“He tricked me. He promised—” Nico held up his hands. “Look . . . right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won’t last.”

I wanted to strangle him again. Unfortunately, he was right. We didn’t have time to argue, and I couldn’t escape on my own. He pointed at the wall. A whole section vanished, revealing a corridor.

“Come on.” Nico led the way.


- The Last Olympian, Chapters 7-8