σɾɳιƚԋαʂ (ρʝσ x ɱαʅҽ σƈ)

We Meet the Forge God

Hephaestus: Well then, if I didn't smash you to a pulp the first time we met, I suppose I won't have to do it now.

He looked at Grover and frowned.

Hephaestus: Satyr.

Then he looked at Tyson, and his eyes glinted.

Hephaestus: Well, a Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing traveling with this lot?

Tyson: Uh...

Hephaestus: Yes, well said. So, there'd better be a good reason you're disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know.

Theo: Looks like it's more than just the suspension.

Hephaestus: Excuse me?

Theo didn't back down as he examined the Corolla's engine.

Theo: The radiator's blocked. Some of the spark plugs are old. And I don't know if you've noticed, but you're missing a whole piston.

Hephaestus raised his eyebrows.

Hephaestus: You one of mine?

Theo: No, sir. My mother is Artemis, and my grandfather is Hermes.

Hephaestus: Ah. That explains it.

Annabeth: Sir, we're looking for Daedalus. We thought—

Hephaestus: Daedalus?! You want that old scoundrel?! You dare to seek him out!

His beard burst into flames and his black eyes glowed.

Annabeth: Uh, yes, sir, please.

Hephaestus: Humph. You're wasting your time.

He frowned at something on his worktable and limped over to it. He picked up a lump of springs and metal plates and tinkered with them. In a few seconds, he was holding a bronze and silver falcon. It spread its metal wings, blinked its obsidian eyes, and flew around the room.

Tyson laughed and clapped his hands. The bird landed on Tyson's shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately.

Hephaestus regarded him. The god's scowl didn't change, but I thought I saw a kinder twinkle in his eyes.

Hephaestus: I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops.

Tyson's smile faded.

Tyson: Y-yes, lord. We met a Hundred-Handed One.

Hephaestus: Briares?

Tyson: Yes. He—he was scared. He would not help us.

Hephaestus: And that bothered you.

Tyson: Yes! Briares should be strong! He is older and greater than Cyclopes. But he ran away.

Hephaestus: (grunts) There was a time I admired the Hundred-Handed Ones. Back in the days of the first war. But people, monsters, even gods change, young Cyclops. You can't trust 'em. Look at my loving mother, Hera. You met her, didn't you? She'll smile to your face and talk about how important family is, eh? Didn't stop her from pitching me off Mount Olympus when she saw my ugly face.

Theo looked away from the engine and stared at the god in confusion.

Zoe: I thought Zeus was the one who did that to you.

Hephaestus cleared his throat and spat into a bronze spittoon. He snapped his fingers, and the robotic falcon flew back to the worktable.

Hephaestus: Mother likes telling that version of the story. Makes her seem more likable, doesn't it? Blaming it all on my dad. The truth is, my mother likes families, but she likes a certain kind of family. Perfect families. She took one look at me and...well, I don't fit the image, do I?