Another Dream of Danger {Chapter 22}

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I was standing on a beach, on the edge of a burning city.

Hades, a voice said in my mind. He isn't happy with the questers now. He wanted the bolt. And he didn't get what he wanted.

So Hades had caused an earthquake because he was mad at Annabeth and the others for not delivering the bolt to him. And now Ares is going to destroy Percy and take the bolt. It was already June 21. The summer solstice.

I looked back towards the beach and saw the trio, standing in the sand, sopping wet. Percy's face was fixed with concentration, Annabeth's with disappointment and shame, Grover's with his usual mix of confusion and worry. They turned and I saw who they were looking at; Ares, eyes flaming, motorcycle beside him.

"Hey, kid," Ares said, grinning happily. He was genuinely happy to destroy Percy. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked me," Percy said. "You stole the helm-" The helm? "and the master bolt."

Ares grinned even bigger. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power—that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? She was there at the winter solstice."

No Percy I thought. Clarisse is into fighting but not in this way. She wouldn't do that.

Ares eyes burned brighter. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this ..."

Ares pulled out a ski cap and sat it down on his motorcycle. The ski cap glowed and transformed into a bronze war helmet. Hades's helm of darkness.

"The helm of darkness," Grover gulped.

"Exactly," Ares confirmed. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested.

Ares shrugged. "Best kind of war. Always the bloodiest. Nothing like watching your relatives fight, I always say."

"You gave me the backpack in Denver," I said. "The master bolt was in there the whole time."

"Yes and no," Ares said. "It's probably too complicated for your little mortal brain to follow, but the backpack is the master bolt's sheath, just morphed a bit. The bolt is connected to it, sort of like that sword you got, kid. It always returns to your pocket, right? Anyway, I tinkered with the magic a bit, so the bolt would only return to the sheath once you reached the Underworld. You get close to Hades.... Bingo, you got mail. If you died along the way—no loss. I still had the weapon."

"But why not just keep the master bolt for yourself?" Percy said. "Why send it to Hades?"

Ares's eyes became less fiery. He stared off into space. "Why didn't I ... yeah ... with that kind of firepower ..." I felt it. The same presence that Luke had when he was giving instructions to Ares. The feeling that time doesn't exist and that you should just submit and obey.

Ares focused again. "I didn't want the trouble. Better to have you caught redhanded, holding the thing."

"You're lying," Percy suggested. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"

"Of course it was!" Smoke drifted up from his sunglasses, as if they were about to catch fire.

"You didn't order the theft," Percy guessed. Well, we know he's not stupid. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief - Silena Beauregard's POV -Where stories live. Discover now