𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗

xiii. no need for obedience school

𝓣𝓗𝓘𝓡𝓣𝓔𝓔𝓝

┌─── ∘°°∘☽【❖】☾∘°°∘ ───┐

ℍ𝕚𝕤 𝔻𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣

└─── °∘∘°☽【❖】☾°∘∘° ───┘

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.
Underneath, stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.
It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

I turned to them. "Okay. You remember the plan?"

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan." Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative."

 "Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

I took the pearls out of my pocket, the three milky spheres the Nereid had given me in Santa Monica.

They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong.

Annabeth just said, "I'm sorry Estee. You're right. I should probably have more faith in you."

"Yes. Very much." I replied as I slipped the pearls back into my pocket.

We walked inside the DOA lobby. Muzak (elevator music) played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. All the ghosts were just...gloomy (not that I'm Little Miss Sunshine or anything but it wouldn't kill you to smile for once).

Charon's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

"We want to go the Underworld," Annabeth spoke up before he could say anything.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" she asked.

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

I blurted, "She died in school shooting, he drowned, and I...well...Yeah could you just let us go?"

Charon sighed as I set three golden drachmas on the counter. "Free of charge. Hades and Lucifer would kill me if...you know..."

I just nodded understandingly (sarcastically) as he scooped up the money and gave it back to me. When I glanced at Annabeth and Grover, their eyes were as wide as drachmas. I smirked ('cause why not?).

"Come along." Charon said.

We pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at our clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things I couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

He escorted us into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on with us and pushed them back into the lobby.