Their first problem was solved easily enough. The security guard who turned out to be Charon, the ferryman of the dead, was bribed to take them to Hades' palace with the drachmas Percy had swiped from Crusty. He was hardly paid these days, so the promise to talk to Hades about a pay raise was also more of a reason for him to ferry them across, the elevator he led them down turning into a wooden barge while Charon's Italian suit was replaced by a long black robe. And then they saw the river.
It was dark and oily, swirling with bones, dead fish and other stranger things - plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.
"It's worse than I imagined," Cressida said, having imagined what some of her dreams and hopes looked like in the river after she'd heard the story of the Styx.
"What?" Percy wondered.
"The River Styx," Annabeth murmured. "It's so..."
"Polluted," Charon finished. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across – 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 colour of poison.
Annabeth was the first to grab Cressida's hand, fear creeping up on all of them as Grover latched on to Annabeth's other free hand and Cressida then turned to Percy. And she definitely didn't have to get into his head to know that he was beginning to panic as well. She offered him her hand and he gladly took it, glad for the reassurance of someone alive to be embarrassed by holding her hand. He was even more relieved when he heard her muttering in Ancient Greek, catching her saying her father's name a few times. She was praying as he was in his head, though he didn't know if either of their fathers would be able to help them now, they were in Hades' territory.
The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about fifty metres to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as we could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones – the 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 our boat slid onto the black sand. 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 grey 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 our golden coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He warbled something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.
They then began following the spirits up a well-worn path.
There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said: YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a passthrough metal detector mounted with security cameras. Beyond this were toll booths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon.
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 Asphodel. No contest," Annabeth answered. "They don't want to risk judgement from the court because it might go against them."
"There's a court for dead people?" Percy questioned.
"Yeah. There are three judges. They switch them around every few millennia," Cressida informed him. "If you go that way, you go to one of two places. Think of it like Santa's list," she said, giving him a simpler analogy. "If you're good, you go to the Field of Elysium. If you're bad, you get sent to the Fields of Punishment. Which is everything it sounds like."
"What about those Ash Fields Annabeth said before?" Percy continued as they walked, and she shrugged.
"Majority of people live mediocre lives. It's a sad truth but they haven't done anything relatively good or bad, they just lived. So, they go to the Fields of Asphodel," she corrected.
"And do what?"
Cressida had to keep constantly reminding herself that Percy had barely been at this demigod thing for three weeks every time he asked a stupid question.
"Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever," Grover filled in.
"Harsh," Percy remarked.
"Not as harsh as that," Grover muttered. "Look."
A couple of black-robed 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 recalled.
"For those of us who don't have TVs at camp, care to fill us in?" Cressida pointed out and both boys began explaining.
He was this annoying televangelist from upstate New York who'd raised millions of dollars for orphanages and then got caught spending the money on stuff for his mansion, like gold-plated toilet seats, and an indoor putt-putt golf course. He'd died in a police chase when his "Lamborghini for the Lord" went off a cliff.
"Can't say he'll be missed or taken easy on," Cressida remarked.
"Amen to that," Annabeth added.
"What are they doing to him?" Percy continued questioning.
"Oh, it is bad," Cressida commented.
"Special punishment from Hades," Grover guessed. "The really bad people get his personal attention as soon as they arrive."
"I wonder what kind of punishment the Kindly Ones will cook up for him. Anyone who steals money from children or hurts animals deserves it," Cressida said and all of them agreed with her, especially Grover with the animal part.
"But if he's a preacher and he believes in a different hell..." Percy began.
Grover shrugged. "Who says he's seeing this place the way we're seeing it? Humans see what they want to see. They're very stubborn – er, persistent, that way."
"Humans are a stubborn species, Grover. It's fine to say it," Cressida said as they grew closer to the gates and closer to the loud howling. And standing just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy monster.
Percy's jaw dropped as he said, "He's a Rottweiler. I'm starting to see him better. Why is that?"
"I think..." Annabeth began as she bit her lips. "I'm afraid it's because we're closer to being dead."
"That's a positive thought," Cressida said sarcastically as Percy glared at her.
"It can smell the living," Percy realised as the dog's middle head craned towards them as it sniffed the air and growled.
"But that's okay," Grover said, trembling next to Percy. "Because we have a plan."
"Right," Annabeth said. "A plan." But with how small her voice was, they weren't exactly hopeful. "Cressida!"
"Ok, I know I'm new to this whole friends thing, but I'm pretty sure friends don't feed their friends to three-headed hellhounds!" she exclaimed as quietly as she could.
"No, I mean, couldn't you use your powers on that thing? It's living enough, right?" Annabeth reasoned.
"Even if he is, I'm not driving a puppy out of his mind!" she replied.
"A puppy?! Are you seriously calling a three-headed monster a puppy? You're out of your mind!" Percy retorted.
"And you're just cruel to even suggest the idea," she shot back.
"I didn't! Annabeth did!" he argued.
"Will you two shut up?!" Grover snapped and they fell silent. "Annabeth, Plan B?"
"Uh..." she stuttered, coming up blank as they stood completely still.
Percy then pulled a big stick out of his backpack, a bedpost he'd broken off one of Crusty's beds.
"Hey, Big Fella," he called as he smiled, waving the stick. "I bet they don't play with you much."
"GROWWWLLLLL!"
"Good boy," Percy said weakly as he waved the stick, Cerberus' middle head following the movement as the two other heads just trained their eyes on Percy. "Fetch!"
And when the stick went splash into the River Styx, Cerberus didn't move. Instead, all three heads growled.
"Um, Percy?" Grover said nervously.
"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."
"I think praying to all of them would be a good idea," Cressida muttered.
"Wait!" Annabeth said. She started rifling through her pack. She produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labelled: WATERLAND, DENVER, CO. And before anyone could stop her, she marched right up to the three-headed hellhound. She shouted, "See the ball? You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!" Cerberus looked as stunned as we were. All three of his heads cocked sideways. Six nostrils dilated. "Sit!" Annabeth called again.
And again, instead of eating Annabeth like a dog biscuit, Cerberus licked his three sets of lips and he sat, immediately crushing at least a dozen spirits who'd been passing under him.
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 towards us. "Go now. EZ DEATH line – it's faster."
"But-"
"Now!" she ordered, cutting off Cressida in the same tone she was using on the dog as Grover and Percy flinched and Cerberus started to Growl again. "Stay!'" Annabeth ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!" Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.
"What about you?" Percy asked as they began to walk past her slowly.
"I know what I'm doing, Percy," she muttered. "At least, I'm pretty sure..."
And the trio walked between the hellhound's legs.
"Good dog," Annabeth praised as she held up the tattered red ball, the sphere held together enough for one more trick, barely. Annabeth threw the ball, the hound's left mouth immediately snatching it up only to be attacked by the middle head and while the right one moaned in protest. And while he was distracted Annabeth walked briskly under its belly and joined them at the metal detector.
"How did you do that?" Percy asked, completely amazed.
"Obedience school," she said breathlessly, Cressida handing her a tissue from a travel pack she'd pulled out of her bag because there were tears in her eyes. "When I was little, at my dad's house, we had a Dobermann..."
"Never mind that," Grover interrupted as he tugged on Percy's shirt. "Come on!"
They were about to bolt through the Ez Death line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths as all the dogs turned to look at them, specifically at Annabeth, the tiny red ball in pieces in what looked like an ocean of drool at his feet.
"Good boy," Annabeth said, her voice a little melancholy and uncertain. "I'll bring you another ball soon. Would you like that?"
The dog whimpered as Annabeth promised to come and visit him soon, before Grover and Percy pushed through the metal detector which immediately went off and started flashing red lights. "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"
Cerberus started barking before each of the boys grabbed one of the girl's hands as they began running through the Ez Death gate. And they were completely insane because unlike every other sane person in the world, they were running straight into the Underworld.
And just like the smart boys they were, they decided to hide in the rotten trunk of an immense black tree as security ghouls scuttled past, calling on the Furies for backup.
"So, what have we learned from this little endeavour?" Cressida huffed as she was squashed between Percy and Annabeth.
"Percy?" Grover prompted, knowing and agreeing with exactly where Cressida was going for this.
"That three-headed dogs prefer red rubber balls over sticks?"
"No!" Grover exclaimed.
"We have learned not to leave the plan-making to Barnacle Butt here!" Cressida snapped.
"We're alive, aren't we?" Percy retorted.
"Yeah, but for how much longer thanks to your idiotic plan?"
"I don't see you coming up with any bright ideas."
"Oh, because your plan and the whole don't think negative shtick was a bright idea?! Let's jump into the Underworld and hope for the best."
"Well-"
"Well if you two don't shut up then we're definitely going to be dead," Annabeth whisper shouted.
"Blame Fish Face and his crap planning," Cressida defended, cutting Percy off before he could snap back. "There's a reason why Athena is the goddess of wisdom and warfare and oh, would you look at that, we have Athena's daughter with us on this quest."
"And yet the prophecy said we're going to get the answers from you, not Annabeth. So where are the answers, Grape Girl?" he fired back and if only he could see the deathly glare she was sending him.
"You wouldn't know seeing as you didn't consult me or Annabeth when making this asinine plan."
"You know, when we make it out of here, I'm going to tell your brothers you swore. Repeatedly," Percy threatened and if Cressida could reach her bracelet, she would've run him through with her spear.
"If we get out of here. And if we get out of here and you do decide to snitch on me to my brothers, I'll just tell them about the Tunnel of Love and then they will squash you like a grape," she warned, and he could hear the smile on her face. "Pollux already wanted to do that when you let his little sister fall from the St Louis Arch."
"Gods, that was like a week ago. And I saved your life! Maybe you should tell them that."
Grover had plugged his ears already while Annabeth hit her forehead on the tree. "Di immortales! Getting eaten by Cerberus would've been preferable then being stuck in here with these two."
"Fish Face."
"Grape Girl."
And Annabeth hit her head again.