"So we have Athena to thank for this monster?" Percy asked suddenly, breaking me out of my reverie. I felt angry at that, although I don't know why. I don't usually agree with anything my mother said, but that was me bitching about her, not someone else. I guess you couldn't help but be protective about your parents, despite everything.
"Your dad, actually," I snapped. "Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She's still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him."
"Oh, so now it's my fault we met Medusa," he retorted, looking angry.
I knew I should let it go, but I couldn't.
" 'It's just a photo, Annabeth', " I mimicked. " 'What's the harm?' "
"Forget it," he said. "You're impossible."
"You're insufferable."
"You're -"
"Hey!" Grover yelled. "You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?"
Percy glared at the thing. I was starting to think he was going to whip it out and turn me into a statue when he got up abruptly.
"I'll be back," he said, turning to leave.
I tried to call him back, but he didn't listen, disappearing into the warehouse. I looked at Grover and he seemed as resigned as me. I'd know him long enough to see that he was worried, and not just about Percy.
"You think it's strange too, don't you?" I asked him.
He nodded glumly.
"Those Furies . . ." he began uncertainty. "Something was off."
"They weren't as aggressive as they should have been," I supplied. "If they wanted to kill us, they could have done so easily. But they didn't even really try."
We locked eyes. Both of us remembered a time, years ago. The Kindly Ones had been a lot more aggressive then, especially when they were trying to kill us. Or, more precisely, Thalia.
"Yeah," Grover said. "Mrs Dodds was at Yancy with Percy and me for months and she didn't try to attack him until the excursion. Why would she wait so long?"
"They were saying 'Where is it?' on the bus," I remembered suddenly. "Not who, but it. There's something else happening. Something we don't know about. They're looking for something, an object, not a person."
"Which means they're not targeting Percy," Grover added.
"At least not because of his father," I said. "They wouldn't be looking for the thunderbolt too, would they?"
Before Grover could answer, Percy came back, carrying a box and a pouch. He packed Medusa's head in the box and filled out the delivery slip so it read:
The Gods
Mount Olympus
600th Floor,
Empire State Building
New York, NY
With best wishes,
Percy Jackson
"They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."
"I am impertinent," Percy said, tipping some drachmas into the pouch so the package disappeared with a pop.
He stared at me, as if daring me to challenge his rash actions. I just signed heavily and prepared to face the consequences.
"Come on," I said. "We need a new plan."
----||==========>
Our great plan was finding a place to sleep. The best we could do was camping in the woods, doing our best to keep dry in a marshy clearing near the main road. We had some food and blankets from Medusa's lair seeing as she no longer needed them, but it didn't do much to cheer us up.
Percy took first shift so I curled up in the blankets and did my best to sleep. Unfortunately, as soon as I closed my eyes, the dream started.
I was at Olympus during the winter solstice, back where all this trouble had begun. I was standing in the middle of the council of gods, although I knew they couldn't see me as this was only a dream. They towered above me, all as tall as giants and yelling at each other as they argued over some petty thing.
Knowing that there was something of importance for me to see, I looked around carefully. My gaze rested on a god, sitting to the sit on a stool, looking dejected. He was about human sized but all in black, his pale, gauntly form covered in a long dark robe. His hair was as dark as his clothes and was dead straight and shoulder length. On his lap, he was fiddling with a helmet, which naturally, was black but had black flames dancing across the metal.
I recognized him easily. It was hard not to when The Lord of Dead looked like The Lord of the Dead. He was watching the rest of the Olympians with an angry expression on his face, like he was disgusted to be there. I was wondering why I was being showed this when the scene abruptly changed.
I was in a corridor and by the look of the door before me, I was standing just outside of the throne room of the gods. It was dark so I knew it had to be night.
I was preparing to step inside when the door creaked open slightly. A boy slipped out, dressed in dark clothes and with a sack slung over his back. He scanned the corridor nervously, looking frightened although it was hard to make out his features when it was so dark I could barely see him.
I went to step forward to get a better look, but he darted off abruptly, running down the corridor with his full sack slapping against his back. The thief, I realised. And he had the lightning bolt.
Beware of the friends you make, a familiar voice suddenly spoke in my head. They are not always what you seem.
"Mother!" I called. "What do you mean? Who's the thief?"
Beware. Beware. Beware, she called, her voice fading with every word.
I woke with a start, and came face to face with a scruffy, mad-eyed poodle.