[act one; chapter ten - a bargain with death]
The four 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 guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.
Percy turned to his friends, nodding his head almost absentmindedly, like he was trying to convince himself of something. "Okay. You remember the plan."
"The plan," Grover gulped.
"Yeah. I love the plan." Annabeth said sarcastically. "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"
"Don't think negatively."
"But she's right. I mean—have you ever made a plan like this before?" Andromeda questioned. Her face was twisted up, scrutinizing, trying to figure out just how well this all would go. How likely it was that it would go wrong.
"Right," the blonde said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negatively."
Percy took the pearls out of his pocket, the four milky spheres the Nereid had given him in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong.
Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."
She gave Grover a nudge.
"Oh, right!" He chimed in, trying to sound just as positive as Percy needed him to be. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."
Both of them looked at Andromeda who had been inspecting her calloused hands. With a small poke of her arm from Grover she looked up at them confused, her brows furrowed. But when she eventually caught on, she sighed and said, "Fine. It's a great plan. Beautiful, wonderfully executed. Now we just have to pull it off. Good job, Fish Face, I'm proud of you."
Percy looked at Grover and Annabeth, and felt truly grateful. He did his best to ignore Andromeda, at least momentarily. Annabeth sighed, telling him quietly, "Just ignore her. She just gets like this sometimes."
Only a few minutes before, he'd almost gotten them stretched to death on deluxe water beds, and now they were trying to be brave for his sake, trying to make him feel better.
Except for Andromeda, she wasn't really in the right space of mind to be doing that right now, not while she was trying not to spiral down her own hole of negativity. It wasn't that she wasn't being brave, in fact she was one of the bravest people Percy had ever met, yet...yet right now, he almost didn't recognize her.
He slipped the pearls back into his pocket. "Let's whoop some Underworld butt."
They walked inside the DOA lobby.
Muzak 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. Out of the corner of his eye, Percy could see them all just fine, but if he focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking...transparent. He could see right through their bodies.
Andromeda purposely kept her eyes down, not wanting to look at any of the ghost-like bodies, not needing the thought that her mother had been in their position once trapped in her mind, painted like a stain.
The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so they had to look up at him. It almost reminded Andromeda of a judge in a courtroom.
He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair that was 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.
Andromeda read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. Percy beat her to it, asking, "Your name is Chiron?"
He leaned across the desk. She couldn't see anything in his glasses except her and her friends' reflections, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it eats you.
"What a precious young lass." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. His gaze switched, going from Andromeda to Percy, his entire expression changing, like he was displeased by the boy rather than her. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"
"N—no."
"Sir," he added smoothly.
"Sir," Percy complied.
He pinched the name tag and ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."
"Charon."
"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."
"Mr. Charon," Percy said.
"Well done." Charon sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"
His question caught Percy off guard, Andromeda could tell. She nearly hesitated, but as his eyes caught hers, she knew she needed to do, that she needed to be what Percy needed in that moment. She looked up and met Charon's eyes, unafraid of what she was about to say.
"We want to go to the Underworld," Andromeda said.
Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."
"Really?" She questioned.
"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked the four of them over. "How did you die, then?"
Percy nudged Grover.
"Oh," he said. "Um...drowned...in the bathtub."
"All four of you?" Charon asked.
Three of them nodded. Andromeda just gave them a look of disgust, turning her gaze back to Charon.
"Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children...alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."
"Oh, but we have coins." Percy handed the coins to Andromeda, who set the golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.
"Well, now..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..."
His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.
They were so close. So, so close.
Then Charon looked at her. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through her chest. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lass?"
"No," she said with a small smile. Behind it, to anyone who knew her, lingered something akin to mania. Chaos. "I'm dead."
Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."
"We just have to get to the Underworld," she insisted, like she was bartering. "Then we'll be out of your way. Simple as that."
Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.
Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches. They were the epitome of anxiety.
"Leave while you can," Charon told them. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."
He started to go for the coins, but Andromeda grabbed his wrist.
"Not so fast." She spat. Her lips tugged upwards in a smile, the same one as before, almost like she enjoyed making people mad.
Just like Ares.
Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors, but Andromeda—she remained unyielding and unafraid.
"It's rather disappointing too. Well, for you at least." Andromeda pouted. "We had so much more to offer."
She held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. She took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through her fingers.
Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh...just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"
"A lot," she said, dragging it out. "See, I guarantee you, I pay better than Hades. All you have to do is let us by."
"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"
"You deserve better," Andromeda agreed with a smile. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay, even."
With each word, she stacked another gold coin on the counter. The entire situation wanted to make her friends laugh out of surprise. She was manipulating an immortal being like it was an everyday past-time of hers.
Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket, as if imagining himself in something even better. His hands flattened out over his chest, like he could physically will a new suit to appear. "I must say, lass, you're making some sense now. Just a little."
She stacked on another few coins. "I could have one of my friends speak to dear old Hades about a raise."
He sighed. "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you four and be off." He stood, scooped up the money, and said, "Come along."
They pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at their clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things none of them could make out.
Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."
He escorted the four 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 them and pushed them back into the lobby.
Andromeda watched the two spirits, watching as obvious agony overtook them, turning them into something sad and lonely. She supposed that many of them felt that way. She wondered, only for a brief moment, if her mother had ever felt that way.
"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," Charon announced to the waiting room, waving one of his hands around. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"
He shut the doors behind him, putting a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and they started to descend.
"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.
"Nothing," Charon said.
"For how long?"
"How long, what?"
Andromeda looked up at him. "How long do they sit in that lobby and wait for peace or damnation, or whatever else waits for them?"
"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."
"Oh," Annabeth said, pushing her hair over her shoulders. "That's...fair."
Charon raised an eyebrow at the two girls. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."
"We'll get out alive," Percy said.
"Ha."
Andromeda got a sudden dizzy feeling, breathing deeply as it overtook her body and any control she had. They weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around her started changing shape—their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. And then they started reaching for her, their hands, or whatever they were, trying to cling into the edge, trying to get ahold of her.
She blinked hard. When she opened her eyes, Charon's Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been were empty sockets—like Ares's, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night and death and despair, everything that one would think would linger in the Underworld, or, even worse, in a place like Tartarus.
He saw Percy looking as well, and said, "Well?"
"Nothing," the boy managed, his expression twisted into something that couldn't quite be identified.
Andromeda thought Charon was grinning, but that wasn't it, not exactly. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, allowing her to see straight through to his skull, as if he were just a foggy window outlooking a foggy city like Seattle.
The floor kept swaying beneath her, making her stomach almost feel queasy, and the lightheadedness she felt increased just enough.
Grover said, "I think I'm getting seasick."
When Andromeda blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore. They were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling them across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things—plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.
"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."
"Polluted," Charon said. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across it—hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."
Mist curled off the filthy water. Above them, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.
Annabeth grabbed hold of her hand. Andromeda knew that her best friend had an idea of her thoughts, knowing she needed something to anchor her down to her sanity. They held onto each other, trying to keep each other tied to the reality that lingered in the world above, tying each other to their humanity. Perhaps, the mortal portion more than the godly one.
"What happens to other demigods? When they die?" Andromeda asked. She wasn't asking out of the need or want to prepare herself for the death that was, without a doubt, coming her way, but more so out of blatant curiosity. And to know how her own mother had faced death.
Charon turned and gazed down at her, like he knew what she was asking without her really needing to say it. Something more glinted in those dark abyss he had as eyes. Something no one knew, not even her. "They die and come here. They face trial for their deeds, good or bad and are placed."
The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about a hundred yards to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as they could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the low howl of a large animal.
"Old Three-Face is hungry," Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. "Bad luck for you, godlings."
The bottom of the boat slid onto the black sand beach. The dead began to disembark. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than they were, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.
Charon said, "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay raise."
He counted the golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He mumbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river, leaving them alone on the beach. Four very alive souls.
They followed the spirits up a well-worn path.
Andromeda bit her lip and closed her eyes tightly, trying to hold her tears back.
She was the daughter of Dionysus and the granddaughter of Apollo, blessed by Aphrodite. She didn't belong in such a dark place, one lacking in sun or things somehow connected to any form of living, the ones that drove her everyday to continue living. She hated the dark, it was where she felt most alone.
There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass-through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were toll booths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.
The howling of the hungry animal was really loud now, having only increased, but Andromeda couldn't see where it was coming from, couldn't even pinpoint the exact direction of origin. The three-headed dog, Cerberus, who was supposed to guard Hades's door, was nowhere to be seen.
The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.
"What do you figure?" Percy asked Annabeth.
"The fast line must go straight to the Asphodel Fields," she said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgment from the court, because it might go against them."
"There's a court for dead people?"
"Yeah. Three judges. They switch around who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakespeare—people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide that person needs a special reward—the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, well, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Asphodel Fields."
"And do what?"
Grover said, "Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever."
"Harsh," was Percy's only reply.
"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."
A couple of black-robbed ghouls had pulled aside one spirit and were frisking him at the security desk. The face of the dead man looked vaguely familiar.
"He's that preacher who made the news, remember?" Grover asked.
"Oh, yeah." Percy said, "What're they doing to him?"
"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive. The Fur—the Kindly Ones will set up an eternal torture for him."
The thought that the Furies were possibly nearby was one that caused goosebumps to rise all across Andromeda's skin. They were in their home territory now. Old Mrs. Dodds would be licking her lips with anticipation, waiting to get her hands on one of them.
"But if he's a preacher," Percy said, "and he believes in a different hell..."
Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. You're very stubborn—er, persistent, that way."
Andromeda stopped walking, the others following suit and looking at her with confused glances.
She was on the brink of collapse and her friends could see it. She was shaking her head, her hands picking at her hands, pulling and tugging at the skin around her nails until she bled red.
"This isn't fair." She muttered. "These people, they wait for thousands of years to find some sort of peace. I mean, some people deserve it, going to the Fields of Asphodel. I get it, I do. But the others, they wait and wait, just to have to wait again. It's—it's not fair. To be punished for not doing enough with their lives in the eyes of someone—-someone whose name is written into the history books. It's not fair. It's cowardly."
Annabeth reached out and grasped onto Andromeda's hands, pulling them from each other. She tugged her, gently, pulling her alone, gesturing for the boys to follow.
The blonde looked at her friend, "I get it."
"But we have to focus on this," Andromeda nodded, speaking more like it was for herself, not for them.
They got closer to the gates. The howling was so loud now it shook the ground at their feet, but she still couldn't figure out where it was coming from.
Then, about fifty feet in front of them, the green mist shimmered. Standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.
Andromeda hadn't seen it before because it was half transparent, like the dead, moving through the Underworld like a cloud of mist. Until it moved, it blended with whatever was behind it. Only its eyes and teeth looked solid. And it was staring straight at Percy.
All Percy could think to say, when he, too, noticed, was, "He's a Rottweiler."
He was obviously a purebred Rottweiler, except of course that he was twice the size of a wooly mammoth, mostly invisible, and had three heads.
The dead walked right up to him—no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his belly, which they could do without even crouching. They almost looked like bugs in comparison to him, so small they were almost nothing at all.
"I'm starting to see him better," Percy muttered. "Why is that?"
"I think..." Annabeth tugged her bottom lip into her mouth, looking unsure. "I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to being dead."
The dog's middle head craned toward the four. It sniffed the air and growled.
"It can smell the living," Percy said.
"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to him. "Because we have a plan."
"Right," Annabeth said. Her voice sounded so small, so...pained. "A plan."
They moved toward the monster.
The middle head snarled at them, then barked so loud Andromeda's body shook from the impact.
"Can you understand it?" Percy asked Grover.
"Oh yeah," he said. "I can understand it."
"What's it saying?"
"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly."
Percy took the big stick out of the backpack—a bedpost he'd broken off Crusty's Safari Deluxe floor model. He held it up, and tried to channel happy dog thoughts toward Cerberus—Alpo commercials, cute little puppies, fire hydrants. He tried to smile, like he wasn't about to die.
"Hey, Big Fella," the boy called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."
The dog's only response was a low, deep growl, one that came deep from within his chest, reverberating all around.
"Good boy," Percy said weakly.
He waved the stick. The dog's middle head followed the movement, while the other two heads trained their eyes on Percy, completely ignoring the spirits. He had Cerberus's undivided attention. Though he wasn't sure that was a good thing.
"Fetch!" He threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. He heard it fall into the River Styx.
Cerberus glared at the boy, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.
So much for the plan.
Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his three throats.
"Um," Grover said. "Percy?"
"Yeah?"
"I just thought you'd want to know."
"Yeah?"
"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that...well...he's hungry."
"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack. Andromeda looked at her confused.
"Five seconds," Grover said. "Do we run now?"
Annabeth produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. Before anyone could stop her, she raised the ball and marched straight up to Cerberus.
She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!" Cerberus looked as stunned as they were.
All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated.
"Sit!" Annabeth called again.
Instead of becoming a meal to the dog, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips, shifted on his haunches, and sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, like the air had been let out of tires.
Annabeth said, "Good boy!"
She threw Cerberus the ball. He caught it in his middle mouth. It was barely big enough for him to chew, and the other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get the new toy.
"Drop it!" Annabeth ordered.
Cerberus's heads stopped fighting and looked at her. The ball was wedged between two of his teeth like a tiny piece of gum. He made a loud, scary whimper, then dropped the ball, now slimy and bitten nearly in half, at Annabeth's feet.
"Good boy." She picked up the ball, ignoring the monster spit all over it. She turned toward her friends. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."
Percy said, "But—"
"Now!" She ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.
Grover and Percy inched forward warily while Andromeda shrugged and just began to walk, eyeing the monster.
Cerberus started to growl.
"Stay!" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!"
Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was nonetheless.
"What about you?" Percy asked Annabeth as they passed her.
"I know what I'm doing, Percy," she muttered. "At least, I'm pretty sure I do."
"Just...come on." Andromeda nudged Percy forward with her hand on his back, pushing Grover to follow.
They made it through, all safe and fully intact.
Annabeth said, "Good dog!"
She held up the tattered red ball, and probably came to the same conclusion Andromeda did—if she rewarded Cerberus, there'd be nothing left for another trick.
She threw the ball anyway. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.
While the monster was distracted, Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined her friends at the metal detector.
"How did you do that?" Percy asked her, amazed.
"Obedience school," she said breathlessly, and he was clearly surprised to see there were tears in her eyes. "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Doberman..."
"Never mind that," Grover said, tugging at Percy's shirt. "Come on!"
They were about to bolt through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths. Annabeth stopped.
She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at them.
Cerberus panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.
"Good boy," Annabeth said, but her voice sounded melancholy and uncertain. Like she was sad.
The monster's heads turned sideways, as if worried about her, picking up on the tone in her voice, the one that was, without a doubt, directed at the creature.
"I'll bring you another ball soon," Annabeth promised faintly. "Would you like that?"
The monster whimpered.
"Good dog. I'll come visit you soon. I—I promise." Annabeth turned to her friends. "Let's go."
Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector, which immediately screamed and set off flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"
Cerberus started to bark.
They burst through the EZ DEATH gate, which started even more alarms blaring, and raced into the Underworld.
A few minutes later, they were hiding, out of breath, in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, yelling for backup from the Furies.
Grover murmured, "Well, Percy, what have we learned today?"
"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"
"No," Grover told him. "We've learned that your plans really, really bite!"
Andromeda wasn't sure about that. She thought maybe Annabeth and Percy had both had the right idea, but the execution of it all had gone wrong. Even there in the Underworld, everybody—even monsters—needed a little attention once in a while. Even a creature like Cerberus.
She thought about that as they waited for the ghouls to pass. She gripped Annabeth's hand as her best friend wiped a tear from her cheek, the sound of Cerberus' sad whines echoing around them.
———
The Fields of Asphodel were like a giant crowd of people, millions just waiting for something to begin, for something to happen. Anything. But nothing ever would because it seemed as if time was frozen, as if everything just...stopped.
The black grass had been trampled by eons of dead feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of a swamp. Black trees—Grover told them they were poplars—grew in clumps here and there. The cavern ceiling was so high above them it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed.
Annabeth, Grover, Andromeda, and Percy tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls. The redhead couldn't help looking for familiar faces among the spirits of Asphodel, but the dead are hard to look at.
They all look slightly angry or confused. They will come up to you and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realize you can't understand them, they frown and move away.
The dead aren't scary. They're just sad.
They crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:
JUDGMENTS FOR ELYSIUM AND ETERNAL DAMNATION. Welcome, Newly Deceased!
Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines.
To the left, spirits flanked by security ghouls were marched down a rocky path toward the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoked in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Even from far away, Andromeda could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. She could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top. And she saw worse tortures, too—things she didn't want to describe. Things she didn't know how to describe.
The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls—a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. Beyond the security gate were neighborhoods of beautiful houses from every time period in history, Roman villas, medieval castles, and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. She could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.
Elysium.
In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. Immediately, Andromeda knew that's where she wanted to go when she died.
That's where she hoped her mother was.
"That's what it's all about," Annabeth said, like she was reading her friends thoughts. "That's the place for heroes."
But Andromeda thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to the Fields of Asphodel or even the Fields of Punishment. So few people did good in their lives, so few actually achieved genuine peace. It was a sad, almost morbid thought.
They left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into the Asphodel Fields. It got darker the further they went. Then the colors faded from their clothes and the crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.
After a few miles of walking, they began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian. Above the parapets swirled three dark bat-like creatures: the Furies.
One glance and Andromeda knew what waited for them. She felt something stir within her, hands aching to pick at each other, to tear each other apart. Suddenly, and with much reason, she grew desperately anxious, so much so that she felt sick.
"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully.
"We'll be okay." Percy tried to sound confident. When he noticed Andromeda anxiety, no matter how hard she tried to hide it, he nodded. "We'll be okay."
"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance..."
"Come on, goat boy." Annabeth grabbed his arm.
Grover yelped. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from Annabeth. He landed flat on his back in the grass.
"Grover," Annabeth chided. "Stop messing around."
"But I didn't—"
He yelped again. His shoes were flapping like crazy now. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from the other three of them.
"Maia!" He yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! Nine-one-one! Help!"
Percy attempted to grab ahold of Grovers hoof or hand, but had just barely missed him. The satyr soared into the air and away from his friends.
They ran after him.
Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!"
It was a smart idea, but as Grover tried to sit up, he couldn't get close to the laces.
They kept after him, trying to keep him in sight as he zipped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance.
At first, Andromeda had figured that Grover would be directed towards the gates of Hades' home, yet he was tugged in the opposite direction.
The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Annabeth, Andromeda, and Percy had to sprint to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, and they realized they'd entered some kind of side tunnel. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above.
"Grover!" Percy yelled, his voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"
"What?" Grover yelled back.
He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down. Not even a little bit.
The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on Andromeda's arms stood. Something evil lingered there, just ahead. But not directly ahead—it was down. Below them. It made her think of things she shouldn't even know about—blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer. The corruption of the greatest forces of power in the world; the defeat, the destruction of the Gods themselves.
Then she saw what was ahead of them, and stopped dead in her tracks, tugging at Percy's sleeve to stop him, to grasp onto his attention.
The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.
Grover was sliding straight toward the edge.
"Come on, Percy! Andy!" Annabeth yelled, tugging at their wrists.
"But that's—"
"I know!" She shouted. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him."
She was right, of course. Grover's predicament got them moving again.
He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like they could possibly get to him in time.
What saved him were his hooves.
The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast.
Grover was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor, but he was still being tugged downward.
Andromeda ran, then, faster than she ever had.
He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when Andromeda caught him and hauled him back up the slope, her arms wrapped tightly around him. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around them angrily and kicked their heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.
For a moment, just a brief moment, she paused. She stopped at the edge of the cavern, her eyes cast down at the world below. For a moment, much like what happened just days earlier, something flashed behind her eyes: a girl, not much older than herself, was clinging onto a boy, their bodies dangling on the edge between life and death. Hand grasping onto hand like life grasping onto life. But something happened, somewhere between life and death; their hands slipped and they were sent tumbling into the darkness that lay below them. But as they fell, the image faded, disappearing before she could see the end of it, the finale.
She was pulled back into reality as the arms around her tugged her back, pulling her up just as she pulled Grover. As they all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel, Andromeda was pulled from whatever it was that she just saw. Her limbs felt like lead; her hair felt heavy, as did her eyelids, though her grip on Grover never loosened, not even slightly.
The satyr was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding, grasping at Andromeda's arms, leaving prints behind on her skin—not that that was what she was worried about. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.
"I don't know how..." he panted, letting his body fall back against his friend. "I didn't..."
"Wait," Percy said. "Listen."
He had heard something—a deep whisper in the darkness.
Another few seconds, and Annabeth said, "Percy, this place—"
"Shh." He stood, releasing his grip on Andromeda, having back directly behind her.
The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below them. Coming from the pit.
Grover sat up. "Wh—what's that noise?"
Annabeth heard it too, now. Andromeda could see it in her eyes as they all approached Percy, approaching the edge. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."
Percy uncapped Riptide. The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.
They could almost make out words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if...
"Magic," Percy said, the word coming out as something more like a whisper.
Andromeda came to his side, staring down the chasm at whatever lay below, though it was too far down to be visible. She wanted to follow it, to see what was hidden below. To see the worst of the worst; it was a strange curiosity, she found herself thinking.
"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.
With a tug of Percy's hand on her own, the redhead followed.
Together, they dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel. As the voice behind them got louder and louder, Andromeda found herself practically pushing Percy to go faster as she too, tried to go faster. To push her legs harder.
Not a moment too soon.
A cold blast of wind pulled at their backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling, breathing deep, tugging them back.
For a terrifying moment, Percy lost ground, his feet slipping in the gravel, tugging Andromeda back with him. If they'd been any closer to the edge, they would've been sucked in.
But she had enough of a footing to keep her balance, pulling Percy to keep up, to stay with her just a while longer.
They kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Whatever it was that lingered there was not happy that they had escaped, aching to bring them back.
"What was that?" Grover panted, when they'd collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades's pets?"
The other three looked at each other. Percy could tell both girls were nursing an idea, probably the same one Annabeth had gotten during the taxi ride to L.A., but was too scared to share it.
The son of Poseidon turned towards Andromeda who was looking at the tunnel with narrowed eyes, her hands balled into fists. He figured she knew what was down there, that she knew of the thing that tried to pull them in. But there was something else, something that she was keeping to herself. Something she hadn't told anyone, not even Annabeth.
He capped his sword, put the pen back in his pocket. "Let's keep going." He looked at Grover. "Can you walk?"
He swallowed. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway."
He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Annabeth and Percy were. Andromeda's body was stiff as it always was, her shoulders squared and alert, pulled back with something achingly akin to a soldier's bravery, one that had been ironed into her from the very beginning. Not quite Greek, but not quite something else.
The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.
Up close, the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times—an atomic bomb exploding over a city, a trench filled with gas mask–wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls—but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago.
She wondered if she was looking at prophecies that had come true. And then the thought that, one day, her own prophecy would appear there too lingered.
Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden they'd ever seen. Multi colored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as my fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues—petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs—all smiling grotesquely.
It was all achingly familiar.
In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. "The garden of Persephone," Annabeth said. "Keep walking."
The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming as they passed through. One bite of Underworld food, and they would never be able to leave. Andromeda and Annabeth pushed the two boys to keep walking, stopping them from eating one of the pomegranates.
Andromeda's eyes trailed over the garden, wondering what would happen if she were to enter. If she were to touch the plants or eat one of the fruits, though, part of her already knew the answer.
And she had made enough bargains with death, enough to last her an entire lifetime. One that would be, without a doubt, longer than her current one.
They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.
Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on their shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered the kids, but their hollow eye sockets followed them as they walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end.
Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at them, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests. Their smiles lingered a little longer on the daughter of Dionysus, not that any of her friends noticed.
"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."
Percy's backpack weighed a ton now. He couldn't figure out why. He wanted to open it, check to see if he had somehow picked up a stray bowling ball or some other object with a heavy weight, but this wasn't the time. It never was.
"Well, guys," Percy said. "I suppose we should...knock?"
A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside immediately.
"I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.
Andromeda mumbled, "Qui."
Hades sat on his throne, at least ten feet tall, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was snow white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't big, muscularly like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.
Andromeda stood tall, refusing to coil under the sharp gaze of Hades. His eyes flickered to her figure, following her poised body move in a calculating manner through the throne room. Never once did she break her stance. She, out of all four of them, stood closest to his throne, something he did not miss, not even slightly.
"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice, his eyes sliding past Andromeda, focusing on Percy. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."
Numbness crept into Percy's joints, tempting him to lie down and just take a little nap at Hades's feet. Curl up there and sleep forever, never to wake up.
He fought the feeling and stepped forward. He knew what he had to say. "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."
Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. "Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."
Andromeda glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades's. It was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. She wished Queen Persephone were there. She remembered meeting the woman when she had visited Olympus not long ago. But the girl knew because it was spring, and the Queen of the Underworld would be above, growing flowers and sprouting fruits.
Andromeda cleared her throat. Her finger prodded Percy in the back.
"Lord Hades," he continued. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be...bad."
"Really bad," Grover added helpfully.
"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," he said. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."
Hades's eyes grew dangerously bright. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?"
Percy glanced back at his friends. They looked as confused as he was. Well, except Andromeda who continued to survey the throne room, as if she were waiting for something to happen. Or someone to appear.
"Um...Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"
The throne room shook with a tremor so strong, they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling. Doors burst open all along the walls, and skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.
Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"
"You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"
"A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"
"Well..."
"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swelled in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?"
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but Hades was on a roll now.
"More security ghouls," he moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"
"Charon wants a pay raise," Perct blurted, just remembering the fact. He looked over at Andromeda, but she was still too focused on something else to even catch his gaze.
"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."
"But you took Zeus's master bolt."
"Lies!" More rumbling. Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goal post. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."
"His plan?"
"You were the thief on the winter solstice," he said. "Your father thought to keep you his little secret. He directed you into the throne room on Olympus. You took the master bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"
"But..." Annabeth spoke. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?"
"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero—coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt—to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?" He turned his gaze to Andromeda, his eyes turning light, just enough for everyone else in the room to notice. "And you. Bargaining with a god."
Andromeda cast her eyes to the ground, like she was ashamed. Her hands were shaking, but the rest of her body was like marble. She was the very image of a marble statue, frozen in time. Perfect, yet tragic.
Annabeth took a step forward, "Andy—"
"What do you mean?" Percy asked the god. He placed an arm out in front of the redhead. "What bargain?"
Hades grinned. "Of course she didn't tell you. It would have defeated the purpose of it all, really." He reached for the pocket of his pants, pulling a photo from the fabric. It opened within his palm, visible to all four teenagers. It was an old photo, an old polaroid type. In it, was a woman with the same hair as Andromeda. And a little girl. She couldn't have been more than three or four years old, too small to remember the woman. Too young, too gentle for a burning house and life torn apart. He held the photo up, in between his fingers. He smiled at Andromeda. A sad smile. "She struck a deal with me and my dear friend, Thanatos. She would bring you here, to my domain, in exchange for a small, precious meeting with her mother. A fair exchange." He held out a hand, "Come."
Andromeda stepped forward, past Percy. As she brushed past his outstretched arm, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Percy." And then she was approaching the god, her jaw set.
Annabeth was yelling. "Andromeda! Andromeda, what did you do!"
But before they could do anything, before anything more could be said or done, Andromeda lay her hand within Hades'. It was warm, contrary to what she would have thought it to be. For a moment, she felt like she was being hugged. Like invisible arms were around her, pulling her to a place where she was not afraid. She thought maybe she would disappear, only to become one of the dead. But she remained standing, with her hand in his.
She said, quietly, "I struck a new deal."
"With who?" Hades questioned. He was looking at her curiously.
"You." She looked over her shoulder at her friends. Friends. That's what they were to her, and she had betrayed them. She had made sure they stayed on course, but somewhere along the way she realized that she wasn't doing this in order to bring them to Hades. No, she was doing it because it was right. Because Sally Jackson did not deserve death. Because Percy deserved to have a mother. Because it was the right thing. "I—I will see my mother when it is my time to enter this place. But Percy deserves to see his mother again."
"No!" Percy said, waving his hands frantically. He was shaking his head, his eyes wild. "Don't—"
"You know that the Olympians will not help you find justice in the theft of the helm being stolen. So you knew Percy would find his way here eventually. And then I offered to bring him. So I did. But...I hurt some people that I care about, and now I need to correct it. You can understand that." The god nodded. "So let me fix it. Give us the bolt, and we'll find the helm for you. Release Sally Jackson, and tell the monsters to leave us alone."
Hades tipped his chin upward. "Return my helm now, or I will stop death," he threatened. "That is my counterproposal to you, Ms. Storm. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And your friend, Andromeda, will lead my army."
The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready, pointing them at Percy. And only at him.
"You're as bad as Zeus," he said, stepping forward. He made sure his eyes met Andromeda, made sure that she saw him nod. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"
"Of course," Hades said. He was still holding onto Andromeda's hand, but she hadn't fought to get away. And then Percy remembered...
"And the other monsters?"
Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you—I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"
Percy played along with the game, the one Andromeda had begun to construct, the one where he was the third player. Her, Hades, and himself. "Easily?"
"Return my property!"
"But I don't have your helm, just like Andromeda said. I came for the master bolt."
"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted. "You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could threaten me!"
"But I didn't!"
"Open your pack, then."
A horrible feeling struck him, then. The weight of the backpack...it had increased. His eyes met Andromeda's, and he watched as she nodded. Encouraging him.
He slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy. Andromeda's eyes widened at the sight of the weapon, her hand tightening around Hades'.
"Percy," Annabeth said. "How—"
"I—I don't know. I don't understand."
"You heroes are always the same," Hades said, gazing down, almost gently, at their clasped hands. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now...my helm. Where is it?"
Andromeda understood immediately. Percy had only learned of his heritage more than a week ago, not nearly long enough to have stolen the bolt himself, or the helm. She hadn't thought that he would have committed such crimes, either way. Hades had all but started a war with his brothers, not knowing that Percy was not in possession of either weapon. Which meant he was just as much in the dark as the rest of them.
Which left one person: Ares.
"Lord Hades, wait," Percy said, drawing the attention solely to him. "This is all a mistake."
"A mistake?" Hades roared. Andromeda tightened her grip once more.
The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one with Mrs. Dodds's face grinned at the bot eagerly and flicked her whip.
"There is no mistake," Hades said. "I know why you have come—I know the real reason you brought the bolt." His gaze turned to Andromeda with a smile. "You came to bargain for her."
At first, Percy believed he was speaking about Andromeda's mother. It would make sense, especially considering that was Andromeda's motivation in it all. Or so it seemed. But then Hades tossed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of him and the girl, and there was Percy's mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.
Percy couldn't speak. He reached out to touch her, but the light was as hot as the flames of a bonfire.
"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually, Andromeda made sure of that. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."
Andromeda looked towards Percy, shaking her head. She thought of the peals in his pocket, how they could help them in that moment.
"Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and Andromeda's blood froze. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson."
Percy's hand moved against his will and brought out the pearls, approaching the stairs one slow step at a time.
"Only four," Hades said, pouting. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."
Andromeda pulled her hand from Hades', running down the steps, running towards her friends. She ran straight to Percy, her hands grasping his arms. She was shaking her head, her words rushed. "I'm so sorry—"
He reached for her, too. "It's okay. Trust me, I would have done the same."
"But I—"
"Andromeda." He grasped her arms. "It's okay."
She shook her head, neither releasing their grips. "We've been tricked. All of us. Even Hades."
Annabeth rubbed at her forehead in distress. "But how?"
"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."
"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.
"Percy." Grover put his hand on Percy's shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt."
"I know that."
"Leave me here," he said. "Use the fourth pearl on your mom."
"No!"
The daughter of Dionysus was beginning to panic, shaking her head more and more and more. "No, I did this, let me fix it."
"I'm a satyr," Grover said, his words gently directed at her. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way."
"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You three go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."
"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."
"Think again, goat boy," Annabeth said.
"Guys, we can find a way to all get out," Andromeda told them. But only Percy heard, the other two arguing back and forth.
Percy nodded in agreement. "I know what to do," he said. "Take these."
He pulled his hand from his pocket, giving each of them a pearl.
Annabeth said, "But, Percy..."
He turned and faced his mother. He desperately wanted to sacrifice himself and use the last pearl on her, but he knew what she would say. What she would do to protect him. She would never allow it, he knew that. He had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. He had to stop the war. She would never forgive him if he saved her instead. He thought about the prophecy made at Half-Blood Hill, what seemed like a million years ago.
You will fail to save what matters most in the end.
But then he thought of the other line, the one that says he will be betrayed by a friend. That had happened. Andromeda had betrayed him, but it didn't sting. Not like he had expected it to. She hadn't done it to hurt him, or inflict pain. She had done it because she, just like himself, wanted to hug her mother one more time. He understood that, so the lingering thought of betrayal fell flat upon his heart, like a heavy weight.
"I'm sorry," Percy said, looking at his mother. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."
The smug look on Hades's face faded. He said, "Godling...?"
"I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy told him. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."
"Do not defy me—"
"And it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while. He likes red rubber balls."
"Percy Jackson, you will not—"
Andromeda waved. "Remember our bargain, Lord Hades. I delivered my end, now you do the same. The monsters, the weapons—it all needs to end."
Percy kept a grip on her hand, and shouted, "Now, guys!"
They smashed the pearls at their feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened.
Hades yelled, "Destroy them!"
The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame.
Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at their feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. Andromeda was the first to be encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground, with her trapped inside.
Percy, Annabeth, and Grover were right behind her. Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and she knew it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A.
"Look up!" Grover yelled. "We're going to crash!"
Sure enough, they were racing right toward the stalactites, which Andromeda figured would pop their bubbles and lead to worse things for them.
"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted.
"I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back.
They screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and...darkness.
At first, she thought maybe she was dead. That the numb sensation all across her body meant that she was, that she would see her mother again regardless. But then she realized something: they were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, she realized—what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea.
For a few moments, she couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of the sphere, but then her pearl broke through on the ocean floor. The three other milky spheres kept pace with her as they soared upward through the water, rising.
They exploded on the surface, in the middle of the Santa Monica Bay, knocking a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"
Percy grabbed Grover and hauled him over to a life buoy. He caught Annabeth and Andromeda, dragging them over, too. A curious shark was circling them, a great white about eleven feet long.
Percy said, "Beat it."
The shark turned and raced away, and the surfer quickly followed.
Somehow, Percy knew what time it was: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.
In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right, and it was Hades's fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after them right now. Or maybe he was respecting Andromeda's words, her bargain to keep his monsters away, to understand that whatever game was at play was not one created by them.
They had to get to shore. They had to get Zeus's thunderbolt back to Olympus. Most of all, they had to have a serious conversation with the god who'd tricked them.
Uh oh. Andy "betrayed" Percy. I mean, it fits the definition of betrayal, but none of her friends will ever really consider it as such. It isn't, as well as know, the kind of betrayal that's coming, but this was a twist I wanted to add to this new, edited version! I felt that it fit well with who Andy is as a person, and it built her character in a way that made sense to how she acts all throughout the entire series.
So, here we are.
Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and Happy New Years! BYE