𝑯𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔－ 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧

𝑭𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏.

Percy apparently didn't know who he was, "Your name is Chiron?" He asked after reading the name tag.

Behind the desk the man leaned forward, a sick smile on his face. "What a precious young lad, he spoke with his English accent. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a Centaur?"

"N-no." Percy stumbled.

"Sir," the man replied back smoothly.

"Sir."

He brought his name tag closer to Percy, "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon," Percy repeated.

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon."

He leaned back, "Well done. I hate being confused with that old horseman. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy glanced back at Ariadne who raised her eyebrows before looking at Annabeth who gave them a deadpanned expression. "We want to go to the Underworld."

Charon's lips twitched slightly, "Well, that's refreshing."

"Is it?"

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No, 'This must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.' " His eyes looked them over, "How did you die then?"

Ariadne was put on the spot, Percy pushing her forwards in hopes she could forward some acting skills. But it didn't  work like that, "Uh..." she sent her friends looks of help before looking at the man again. "We— er— we drowned!"

But her voice sounded a bit to happy and the man raised an eyebrow, Percy pulled her back and sent her 'really' look.

Grover took over, "Uh... in the— um—in the bathtub."

Annabeth and Percy looked ready to strangle them, but that's what you get when you leave the two worst improvisers to improvise, their own fault.

"All four of you?" Charon questioned.

"Yeah," Ariadne shrugged, "It was a big bath." She gave him an innocent smile as he blinked, rolling his eyes before speaking.

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

"Oh, but we have coins." Percy said before setting four drachmas on the desk, they were from Crusty's.

Charon licked his lips, "Well, now... real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..." He looked up from the coins, a cold look on his face. "Here, now. You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy kept his cool. "I'm dead."

He leaned forward and sniffed the boy, "You're not dead! I should've known. You're a godling."

"Um," the brunette butted in, a mocking smile on her face. "I'd think we'd know whether we are dead or not."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy told him. Charon moves his glare from her to him, a growl escaping his throat.

And as if his mood affected there's, everyone else started pacing around and doing nervous habits. "Leave while you can," Charon said. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you—"

But Percy removes them from the desk before his hand could scoop them up. "No service, no trip."

The dead souls were banging on the doors of the elevator, tying for it to open as Charon glared harder.