THEY TOOK THE AMTRAK TRAIN WEST—through the hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain. Naomi had never left New York before, but the novelty the new sights might have had was lost in the frightening reason she was even seeing them in the first place. She was on a quest to retrieve a deadly weapon and prevent a war between the gods.
Sight-seeing was the least of her concerns.
They weren't attacked once, but Naomi wasn't foolish enough to relax. She figured it was only a matter of time before something noticed them and decided to ruin the tiny sliver of peace they'd acquired on their quest.
Contributing the complete lack of relaxation was the fact that Percy's name and likeness were now splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a picture taken by a tourist as he got off the Greyhound bus. He had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hands—it could've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick.
The picture's caption read:
Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be travelling with three teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.
"Don't worry," Annabeth told him. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound too sure.
❊
Their reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver, Colorado. They couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so they dozed in their seats.
At some point, Naomi managed to fall asleep, dreaming of nothing (which, really, she wasn't complaining about—her dreams were rarely pleasant, even before she discovered that mythological monsters existed and wanted to eat her for dinner if given the chance).
When she woke up, the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon, coloring the train car in golden hues. Percy and Grover were passed out, and only Annabeth was awake. Her Ancient Greek architecture book was open on her lap, but she wasn't reading it—she was staring out of the window, worrying her camp necklace between her fingers.
"Where are we?" Naomi asked quietly, rubbing her eye with the sleeve of her jacket—a hand-me-down from one of the Hermes girls.
"We passed the sign for Illinois an hour ago," Annabeth answered.
Naomi frowned, trying to figure out how far that put them from Colorado. She'd never been great with geography, but she was fairly certain they still had a few decent-sized states to go. "Did I miss anything?"
Annabeth looked at Percy, frowning slightly. "I think he wants to try to barter with Hades for his mom's life," she said softly.
Naomi thought back to the Greek myths she could remember. She knew there were a few about heroes trying to retrieve the dead from the Underworld, but she couldn't recall any that had happy endings.
"I get it," she murmured, drawing her legs up onto the seat. "Sally didn't deserve to die."
"You knew her?" Annabeth asked.
Naomi nodded. "I went over a few times over school breaks whenever Percy's stepdad was out," she said. "Sally was always nice to me. Nicer than the nuns, anyway."
"So, you were raised in a Catholic orphanage?" Annabeth asked, closing her book. "Your whole life?"
"I lived in a few foster homes when I was in elementary school, but none of them panned out," Naomi explained quietly. "One of them almost did, but..." She trailed off. She didn't like thinking about that house.
"You don't know anything about your mortal parent?" Annabeth asked. "They didn't leave a note or anything?"
"Just a sticky note with my name," Naomi muttered, picking at the torn fabric of her jeans—also hand-me-downs. "They didn't even give me a last name—the nuns just picked one out of the phonebook at random. Why?"
Annabeth shrugged, but her expression wasn't exactly nonchalant. "If they left something, it might have pointed toward who your godly parent was," she explained. "Or at least, it could've narrowed it down a little."
Naomi laid her chin on her knees, looking at Annabeth. "Do you have any theories?"
Annabeth hesitated, shifting her gaze back to the window. "No," she said.
Naomi knew she was lying. "You do," she said, sitting up straighter. "What are they?"
Annabeth took a moment to answer. "It's just one theory," she said.
"Well, what is it?" Naomi asked. "Who do you think it is?"
"I..." Annabeth looked worried. "If I'm right, Naomi, it's bad news. You'd be more screwed than Percy is—and that's saying something."
"Annabeth, who?" Naomi insisted. "Who do you think it is?"
Annabeth couldn't seem to get the words out. Naomi was on the edge of her seat—both literally and figuratively—waiting to hear her theory. If her godly parent didn't want to claim her outright, maybe Annabeth had an idea of who they were. And maybe if Naomi figured it out, they'd have no choice but to finally claim her and end the suspense.
"Please," Naomi pleaded. "I have a right to know who my parent is."
"I don't know for sure," Annabeth maintained. "I could be wrong—I hope I'm wrong."
Naomi waited, pleading with her eyes for Annabeth to come out with it. She'd never had much luck using puppy-dog eyes with the nuns, but they proved more effective on Annabeth.
The blonde sighed heavily, and Naomi waited with bated breath.
"I... I think it might be Hades," Annabeth said, her voice low. "That's my theory."
Naomi blinked. She sat back, a pit forming in her stomach. "Hades... the god who stole the lightning bolt," she said quietly. "You... you think he's my father?"
"It would make sense," Annabeth said quietly. "The way the hellhound obeyed you back at camp, and the fact that another one saved you and brought you to camp in the first place. With the Big Three's oath, maybe Hades left you at the orphanage to keep you a secret. If Zeus and Poseidon knew he'd broken the oath, too, who knows what they would do. It could be a disaster."
"That's why he hasn't claimed me," Naomi whispered. "He wants to keep me a secret."
"Maybe he's trying to protect you," Annabeth suggested, though she didn't sound very confident. "If he claimed you, his brothers would have a fit."
Naomi almost scoffed. "Protect me?" she repeated. "If he wanted to protect me, he wouldn't have left me at St. Monica's. He wouldn't have let me get placed in that house, he wouldn't have—" She choked on her words. Her vision grew blurry as tears came to her eyes, but she blinked them away. "He's never done anything to protect me. Why would he start now?"
"Naomi." In the short time Naomi had known her, Annabeth had never been a necessarily comforting presence, but now she seemed to be putting in an effort. "I could be wrong. It could be a minor god, like—like Hecate, or Thanatos. They're both connected to the Underworld. That could explain being able to order hellhounds."
"Do you really believe that?" Naomi asked.
"I... I want to," Annabeth murmured. "If he's really your father... we're all in trouble."
Naomi shifted her gaze to the dirty floor of the train, fighting the urge to either yell or scream. It wasn't fair. Maybe fairness didn't exist for demigods, but this felt like too cruel of a cosmic joke, even for gods.
An entire life spent wondering who her parents were, and now she learned one of them might be an evil god of the dead who wanted to start a war and kill her best friend in the process?
She could practically hear those old ladies from the fruit stand laughing at her, knitting their socks and cutting their strings of fate.
"Great," Naomi muttered, laying her cheek on her knee to stare out of the window, wishing for a fleeting moment that she'd wake up in her lumpy bed in St. Monica's, and all of this would prove to be some elaborate dream.
But she wouldn't—she couldn't. The universe had dealt her a crappy hand, and there was nothing she could do but play it as best as she could.
❊
Toward the end of their second day on the train, June thirteenth—eight days before the summer solstice—they passed through some golden hills and over the Mississippi River into St. Louis.
Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, her eyes full of awe.
"I want to do that," she sighed.
"What?" Percy asked.
"Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?"
"Only in pictures."
"Someday, I'm going to see it in person," Annabeth said. "I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods ever. Something that'll last a thousand years that'll last a thousand years."
Percy laughed. "You? An architect?"
Annabeth's cheeks flushed. "Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things, not just tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention."
Percy got quiet.
"Sorry," Annabeth said. "That was mean."
"Can't we work together a little?" Percy pleaded. "I mean, didn't Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?"
Annabeth had to think about it. "I guess... the chariot," she said tentatively. "My mom invented it, but Poseidon created horses out of the crests of waves. So they had to work together to make it complete."
"Then we can cooperate, too. Right?"
They passed into the city. Annabeth watched the Arch disappear behind a hotel.
Finally, she said, "I suppose."
They pulled into the Amtrak station downtown. The intercom told them they'd have a three-hour stopover before departing for Denver.
Grover stretched. Before he was even fully awake, he said, "Food."
"Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing."
"Sightseeing?"
"The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"
Naomi shrugged. "Okay," she said quietly.
Grover and Percy exchanged looks.
"As long as there's a snack bar without monsters," Grover decided.
❊
The Arch was about a mile from the train station. This late in the day, the lines to get in were pretty short. They threaded their way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. Annabeth told them interesting facts about how the Arch was built. Naomi tried to pay attention, but it was hard to do that when she couldn't stop thinking about her maybe-father.
As they wandered deeper into the museum, Naomi started falling behind, getting lost in her thoughts. After a few minutes, Percy dropped back, and they walked side-by-side, quiet for a moment.
"What's up with you?" Percy asked. "You've been quiet since yesterday."
Naomi crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm always quiet," she mumbled.
"Not this quiet," Percy said. "Seriously, what's wrong? Did Annabeth say something while I was asleep?"
"No," Naomi muttered. "Well, I mean—she did, but it wasn't bad—well, it was bad, but it wasn't mean."
Percy raised an eyebrow. "What'd she say?"
Naomi chewed on the inside of her lip. "She has a theory about my godly parent."
She expected Percy to look surprised, but he didn't really. He frowned. "She does?"
Naomi sighed, uncrossing her arms and letting them fall back to her sides. "You do, too."
"I don't," Percy said. "But I think Chiron does. He was... he acted weird when I asked him how you'd gotten the hellhound to leave. Like he had an idea and... it wasn't good."
Naomi grimaced. That fit too well into Annabeth's theory—and if Chiron also thought her godly parent was Hades...
She was screwed.
"Who does Annabeth think it is?" Percy asked quietly.
Naomi hesitated. How was she supposed to tell him her godly parent was probably the god who currently wanted him dead and had stolen Zeus's lightning bolt to start a war?
But he deserved to know—even if that knowledge made him hate her.
"She thinks it might be..." She remembered what Mr. D had said about saying the gods' names out loud. Sure, she and Annabeth had said it on the train, but she figured they'd tempted fate enough for now. So instead of saying the name, she pointed down.
This time, Percy did look a little surprised. "She thinks your dad's Had—?"
Naomi shook her head quickly, cutting him off. "I don't want him to know we're talking about him."
Percy nodded slowly. "Okay... but that doesn't make any sense. You're... you're nice."
"So?"
"So... he isn't, is he?"
"Well, why else would the hellhound listen to me?" Naomi asked. "Why would a hellhound bring me to camp?"
Percy shrugged. "Maybe your godly parent's another Underworld god or something," he said. "There's other ones, right?"
"That's what Annabeth said," Naomi said. "But she didn't seem too convinced."
"Contrary to what she might believe, Annabeth doesn't know everything," Percy said.
Naomi frowned at him. "You're supposed to be working together, aren't you?"
"That doesn't mean I have to like her." At Naomi's exasperated look, he sighed. "Look, I'm just saying—she could be wrong about this. She probably is. Don't worry about it too much—I'm sure once we're through with this quest, your godly parent will claim you and everything will make sense."
"And if they don't?" Naomi asked.
"Then they're not worth it," he said firmly. "Now c'mon—I don't think Annabeth would even notice if they left us behind."
Naomi looked ahead, where Annabeth was talking Grover's ear off about structural support a few yards away.
"Yeah, I doubt she would," Naomi agreed.
They hurried to catch up.
A few minutes later, Percy started looking around nervously.
"You smell anything?" he murmured to Grover.
Grover took his nose out of his bag of jelly beans long enough to sniff. "Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything."
"I don't like 'probably,'" Naomi mumbled.
"Guys," Percy said. "You know the gods' symbols of power?"
Annabeth had been in the middle of reading about the construction equipment used to build the Arch, but she looked over. "Yeah?"
"Well... our friend downstairs," he said, eying the ground pointedly, "doesn't he have a hat like Annabeth's?"
"You mean the Helm of Darkness," Annabeth said. "Yeah, that's his symbol of power. I saw it next to his seat during the winter solstice council meeting."
"He was there?" Naomi asked.
Annabeth nodded. "It's the only time he's allowed to visit Olympus—the darkest day of the year. But his helmet is a lot more powerful than my invisibility hat, if what I've heard is true..."
"It allows him to become darkness," Grover confirmed. "He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can't be touched, seen, or heard. And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?"
"But then... how do we know he's not here right now, watching us?" Percy asked.
Annabeth and Grover exchanged looks.
"We don't," Grover said.
Naomi fought a shudder. "Comforting."
"Yeah, that makes me feel a lot better," Percy grumbled. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"
Eventually, the four questers got shoehorned into an elevator with a lady and her dog—a Chihuahua with a rhinestone collar. Naomi figured it must have been a service dog, since the guards didn't say anything.
They started going up, inside the Arch.
"No parents?" the lady with the dog asked them.
She had beady eyes; pointy, coffee-stained teeth; a floppy denim hat, and a denim dress—quite the fashion statement. Britney Spears and Justin Timberlake would have been proud.
"They're below," Annabeth told her. "Scared of heights."
"Oh, the poor darlings."
The Chihuahua growled. The woman said, "Now, now, sonny. Behave."
"Sonny," Percy said. "Is that his name?"
"No," the lady said, and smiled like that cleared everything up.
They reached the top of the observation deck. Rows of tiny windows looked out over the city on one side and the river on the other.
Annabeth kept talking about structural supports, and how she would've made the windows bigger, and designed a see-through floor. Naomi figured she could've stayed up there for hours, but the park ranger announced that the observation deck would be closing in a few minutes.
Percy steered them all toward the exit like a dad trying to get home before the football game started on TV. Naomi, Annabeth, and Grover got on, but as Percy started to follow, he realized there were already two tourists inside. No room for Percy.
"Next car, sir," the park ranger said.
"We'll get out," Annabeth said. "We'll wait with you."
Percy shook his head. "Nah, it's okay. I'll see you guys at the bottom."
❊
Percy did see them at the bottom—but he didn't take the elevator.
The crowd of bystanders, news crews, and police officers was almost impossible to maneuver through, but Annabeth shoved her way through, Naomi and Grover close behind.
Finally, Grover spotted him. "Perrr-cy!"
Grover tackled him in a hug, Naomi following suit.
"We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!" Grover exclaimed.
Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest, trying to look angry, but Naomi could see the relief in her expression. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened?"
"I sort of fell," Percy said.
"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?"
Behind them, a cop shouted, "Gangway!"
The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua—"
"Okay, ma'am," the paramedic said. "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is starting to kick in."
"I'm not crazy! This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she spotted Percy. "There he is! That's the boy!"
Percy turned quickly and pulled his companions after him. They disappeared into the crowd.
"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"
Percy told them the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, Percy's high-dive act, the underwater lady's message.
"Whoa," Grover said. "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore a summons from your dad."
They passed another reporter doing a news break as he said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by the authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the boy is believed to be traveling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."
The questers ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley.
"First things first," Percy told Grover. "We've got to get out of town."
Somehow, they made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. They got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind them.
❊
The next afternoon, June fourteenth—seven days before the summer solstice—the train rolled into Denver. They hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. None of them had showered since they left Camp Half-Blood, which was painfully obvious to anyone with at least one working nostril.
"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit."
"We can't use phones, right?" Percy asked.
"I'm not talking about phones."
They wandered downtown for about half an hour, though Naomi wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt strange after the humidity in St. Louis. Everywhere they turned, the Rocky Mountains stared down at them, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city.
They finally found an empty self-service car wash. They veered toward the stall furthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for police. They were four adolescents hanging out in a car wash without a car—any cop with working eyes would have gotten suspicious.
"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked as Grover took out the spray gun.
"It's seventy-five cents," Grover grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?"
"Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out."
Percy fished out a quarter and handed it to Grover.
"Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."
"What are you talking about?" Percy asked.
Grover fed in the quarters and set the knob to fine mist. "IM-ing."
Naomi frowned. "Instant messaging?"
"Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."
"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Percy asked.
Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."
Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors.
Annabeth held her palm out to Percy. "Drachma, please."
He handed it over.
She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."
She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer.
"Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then they were looking through the mist at strawberry fields, the Long Island Sound in the distance. Standing with his back to them was a sandy-haired boy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow.
"Luke!" Percy called.
He turned, eyes wide.
"Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth and Naomi, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"
"We're... uh... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty t-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—"
"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"
"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?"
Just then, a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass vibrated so much that it shook the pavement.
"Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled.
"I'll take care of it!" Annabeth yelled back, looking relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on!"
"What?" Grover said. "But—"
"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered.
Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle of Delphi, then handed Percy the spray gun and followed Annabeth.
Percy readjusted the hose so he could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke.
"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted at them over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, guys. Word leaked out about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."
In the next stall, Naomi heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically.
"So what's your status?" Luke asked. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you."
Percy told him pretty much everything, including his freaky dreams. After a few minutes, the beeper went off on the spray machine, signaling that they only had one more minute before the water shut off.
"I wish I could be there," Luke said. "We can't help from here, I'm afraid, but listen... it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there on Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him."
"But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly," Percy said.
"That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still... Hades has the helmet of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible."
They were all silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said.
"Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never... I mean, she's like a little sister to me."
Naomi had a feeling Annabeth wouldn't like that description.
In the stall next to them, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash.
"You'd better go see what that's about," Luke said. "Listen, are you wearing the flying shoes, Percy? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good."
Percy's expression flashed with momentary panic. "Oh... uh, yeah! Yeah, they've come in handy."
"Really?" Luke grinned. "They fit and everything?"
The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate.
"Well, take care of yourselves out there in Denver," Luke called, his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—"
But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. Percy and Naomi were alone in a wet, empty car-wash stall.
Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw them. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened? What did Luke say?"
Percy and Naomi shared a brief look of worry. She felt something heavy settle in her stomach, like fear had taken on a solid form.
"Not much," Percy lied. "Come on, let's find some dinner."
❊