invisible string | f. zhang

vii. the gamble

"Any idea what she means?"

"I think I get it," Percy explains, "Phineas sees the future. He knows tons of important events. But he can't see small things—like random occurrences, spontaneous games of chance. That makes gambling exciting for him. If we can tempt him into making a bet . . ."

Hazel begins, "You mean if he loses, he has to tell us where Thanatos is. But what do we have to wager? What kind of game do we play?"

"Something simple, with high stakes," Percy says, "Like two choices. One you live, one you die. And the prize has to be something Phineas wants . . . I mean, besides Ella. That's off the table."

"Sight," Ella mutters, "Sight is good for blind men.
Healing . . . nope, nope. Gaea won't do that for Phineas. Gaea keeps Phineas b-blind, dependent on Gaea. Yep."

"Gorgon's blood," Frank and Percy say in unison.

"What?" Hazel asks.

Frank brings out two ceramic vials, "Ella's a genius. Unless we die."

"Don't worry about that," Percy says, "I've got a plan."

Phineas was right where they had left him. He was sitting on his picnic bench with his bunny slippers propped up, eating a plate of greasy shish kebab.

Maribelle scrunches her nose when she sees his barbecue stained bathrobe.

"Welcome back! I hear the flutter of nervous little wings. You've brought me my harpy?" Phineas grins.

"She's here," Percy says, "But she's not yours."

Phineas sucks the grease off his fingers and Maribelle can't help but gag. Frank looks at her amused.

"I see . . . well, actually, I'm blind, so I don't see. Have you come to kill me, then? If so, good luck completing your quest," Phineas says.

"I've come to gamble."

Phineas puts down his shishkebab and leans toward Percy, "A gamble . . . how interesting. Information in exchange for the harpy? Winner take all?"

"No," Percy says, "The harpy isn't part of the deal."

Phineas laughs, "Really? Perhaps you don't understand her value."

"She's a person," Percy says, "She isn't for sale."

"Oh, please! You're from the Roman camp, aren't you? Rome was built on slavery. Don't get all high and mighty with me. Besides, she isn't even human. She's a monster. A wind spirit. A minion of Jupiter!"

Ella squawks, '"Jupiter. Hydrogen and helium. Sixty-three satellites.' No minions. Nope."

Maribelle puts her arm around Ella's wings, "Hey, it's alright," She whispers.

Percy holds out the ceramic vials, "I have a different wager. We've got two flasks of gorgon's blood. One kills. One heals. They look exactly the same. Even we don't know which is which. If you choose the right one, it could cure your blindness."

Phineas holds out his hands eagerly, lLet me feel them. Let me smell them."

"Not so fast," Percy says, "First you agree to the terms."

"Terms . . . prophecy and sight . . . I'd be unstoppable. I could have this city. I'd build my palace here, surrounded by food trucks. I could capture that harpy myself!"

"N-noo," Ella says nervously, "Nope, nope, nope."

"Very well, demigod. What are your terms?" Phineas laughs.