Clytus Life Drain

	The giant’s smoky shroud poured over the floor, covering Annabeth and Percy in a pool of dark fog.
...
	The giant tilted his head. His diamond eyes gleamed. At his feet, Annabeth lurched like she’d hit a power line. She rolled on her back, black smoke coiling from her mouth.
	"I am not Pasiphaë." Annabeth spoke in a voice that wasn’t hers – the words as deep as a bass guitar. "You have won nothing."
	"Stop that!" Even from thirty feet away, Hazel could sense Annabeth’s life force waning, her pulse becoming thready. Whatever Clytius was doing, pulling words from her mouth – it was killing her.