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( Chapter Fifteen ━━━ Weepin' In A Sunlit Room ! )
"You couldn't have gotten me out of there sooner?" Colton complained behind me as we walked to DOA Recording Studios to find the Underworld.
Crusty's Water Bed Palace was a bust in trying to find somewhere safe. Crusty was actually Procrustes—son of Poseidon—and Percy had called him "The Stretcher." He was known for making people fit into beds by stretching them if they were too small (which we just saw first hand with our friends) or cutting off their extra lengths. Anyway, Percy and I pulled a Theseus and fit Procrustes into one of his own beds. Then we stole his money and got the address for DOA.
I rolled my eyes at the son of Ares. "Percy and I were catching up with a half-brother of ours. Family is family," I teased.
"How about I just about pull your arms and legs out of their sockets? How would you feel then?" he said, the threat empty.
I pressed my lips together and shrugged. "You look taller."
"Very funny, Amara," Colton said. "Remind me to let you suffer for a bit next time you're in danger."
I rolled my eyes again and chuckled softly as we stepped into the lobby of DOA Recording Studios. Muzak (elevator music) played lowly on a few hidden speakers and spirits paced around the lobby. We stepped up to a security guard's desk.
The guard was tall, elegant. He had beached-blond hair that was shaved and deep brown skin. He wore a silk suit that matched his hair and a black rose was pinned to his lapel, right under a silver name tag.
"Your name is Chiron?" my brother questioned, making him lean across the desk.
Beside me, Colton pressed a hand over his eyes. He also knew that the name tag read 'Charon'.
"What a precious young lad." The man had an accent—British, I think. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"
"N-no."
"Sir," he added.
Percy repeated, "Sir."
"Well done." He sat back. "How may I help you little dead ones?"
Percy glanced at Annabeth who continued to look up at Charon. "We want to go to the Underword."
His mouth twitched a bit. "Well, that's refreshing. Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He glanced between the five of us. "How did you die, then?"
