𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗜𝗘! 𝙥. 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙠𝙨𝙤𝙣 ¹

I'm Not a Chew Toy!

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked us over. "How did you die, then?"

"Well—uh," she nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um...drowned...in the bathtub."

"All four of you?" Charon asked.

They nodded.

"Big bathtub." Percy added helpfully.

Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children...alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.

"Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..."

His fingers hovered greedily over the coins. They were so close.

Then Charon looked straight at them. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through my chest.

"Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said, quickly. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Annabeth insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.

Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told them. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."

He started to go for the coins, but Lydia snatched them back.

"I don't think so." Lydia sang, sizing him up. She could take him, she decided.

Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," she sighed. "We have so much more where that came from."

Percy held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. He took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through his fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godlings? Eh...just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," Lydia said. "And we're generous."

"I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work." Percy added.

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay." With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lads, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

Percy stacked another few coins. Lydia gave Charon a look that said 'This is as good as you're gonna get, old man.'

"I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades." Percy offered.