IMAGINE THE LARGEST concert crowd you've ever seen, a football field packed with a million fans.
Now imagine a field a million times that big, packed with people, and imagine the electricity has gone out, and there is no noise, no light, no beach ball bouncing around over the crowd. Something tragic has happened backstage.
Whispering masses of people are just milling around in the shadows, waiting for a concert that will never start.
If you can picture that, you have a pretty good idea what the Fields of Asphodel looked like. 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 about them it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. They tried not to imagine they'd fall on them at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass.
Loralai guessed the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being spared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.
The group of four tried to blend into the crowd, keeping an eye out for security ghouls, or worse, Furies. The girl couldn't help herself, she continuously searched around for familiar faces, the pit in her stomach told her that she might see her mom.
However, the dead are hard to look at. They would come up to her and speak, but their words were random, muttering things like they were talking to themselves like "I wish I had life insurance," or, "I wonder if Hades will tell her."
The latter was the creepiest one a dead person had said to her so far; even if it seemed dreamy and she couldn't look into their eyes to see if they were talking to her. Maybe they were talking about some relative still alive that didn't know they were dead.
When she told Annabeth about it, she frowned and said that to her, the voices sounded like chatter, bats twittering. She told Loralai that they'd just look sad then walk away when they figured out she couldn't understand them.
Loralai was a little concerned for Annabeth, the dead's voices were loud and clear. Unfortunately, she found out she was the one to be concerned for, as the others said the same thing as Annabeth, putting her in the minority.
The dead weren't scary. They were just sad.
The group crept along, following the lines of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates towards 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 towards the Fields of Punishment, which glowed and smoke in the distance, a vast, cracked wasteland with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas.
They could see people being chased by hellhounds, burned at the stake, forced to run naked through cactus patches or listen to opera music. Loralai could make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top.
And she saw more terrifying tortures, too– things she doesn't want to describe and things she wished she could erase out of her mind.
The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down towards 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 and medieval castles and Victorian mansions. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled 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.
Loralai glanced at Percy, who was gazing dreamily at the Isles. Every hero wanted to go there when they died. And, she supposed, he was turning out to be one.
"That's the place for heroes," Loralai told him, reading his thoughts. "That's what demigods' lives are all about, where we end up in the Underworld," she admitted sadly.
The two both thought of how few people there were in Elysium, how tiny it was compared to Asphodel or even Punishment. So few people did good in their lives. It was depressing.
They left the judgment pavilion and moved deeper into Asphodel. It got darker. The colors faded from Loralai's quest-mates' clothes. The crowds of chattering spirits began to thin.
After a few miles of walking, they began to hear the 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. Percy got the feeling they were waiting for them.
"I suppose it's too late to turn back," Grover said wistfully. "We'll be okay." Percy tried to sound confident.
"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested. "Like, Elysium, for instance..."
Loralai, feeling a lot less death-like than the others, grabbed the satyr's arms. "Come on, goat boy." Grover yelled. His trainers sprouted wings and his legs short forward, pulling him away from Loralai. 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 group. "Maia!" he yelled, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! 911! Help!"
Percy got over being stunned and made a grab for Grover's hand, but too late. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled.
They ran after him.
Annabeth shouted, "Untie the shoes!"
It was a smart idea, but Percy guessed it's not so easy when your shoes are pulling you along feet-first at full speed. Grover tried to sit up, but 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. "Watch where you're going, stupid satyr!" Loralai heard one of them yell.
They were sure Grover was going to barrel straight through the gates of Hades' palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction.
The slope got steeper. Grover picked up speed. Loralai, Percy and Annabeth 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 stalactites above. "Grover!" Percy yelled, his voice echoing. "Hold on to something!"
"What?" He yelled back.
He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down.
The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on their arms bristled. It smelled evil down here. It made them think of things they shouldn't even know about– blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer.
Then Percy saw what was ahead of them, and stopped dead in his tracks. The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.
Grover was sliding straight towards the edge.
Loralai recognized it, the place Percy had described in his dream. It was in hers, too, but the feeling... it was not nearly as welcoming and warm as she remembered.
"Come on, guys!" Annabeth yelled, pulling Loralai's shirt. "But that's–" Percy began.
"I know!" Loralai shouted at him, suddenly awake as she tugged his wrist. "The place in our dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him."
She was right, of course. Grover's predicament got Percy moving again.
He was yelling, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him towards 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.
He was three meters from the edge of the pit when they caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around the angrily and kicked their heads with protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.
They all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. Loralai's limbs felt like leds. Percy's backpack even seemed heavier, as if somebody had filled it with rocks.
Grover was scratched up pretty bad. His hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat-like, the way they did when he was terrified.
"I don't know how..." he panted. "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." Percy stood.
The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below them. Coming from the pit.
Loralai stood abruptly. Grover sat up and whimpered, "Wh– what's that noise?"
Annabeth heard it too, now, and Percy could tell from Loralai's eyes that she knew instantly where it was coming from. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus."
Percy uncapped Anaklusmos. The bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant.
Loralai grabbed her sword out of her belt, the rubies glittering in the orange lighting. She could almost make out the words now, ancient, ancient words, older even than Greek. As if...
"Magic," Loralai said.
"We have to get out of here," Annabeth urged. Together, they dragged Grover to his hooves and started back up the tunnel and headed towards the palace of Hades.
Almost.
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, Loralai saw that 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. Loralai wondered if she was looking at prophecies that had come true.
Inside the courtyard was the strangest garden. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs and weird luminous plants grow without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as their firsts, 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.
In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. It reminded Percy of Loralai's eyes, despite how creepy that sounded.
"The garden of Persephone," Loralai said, assuming that Percy was staring at her to explain. "We should keep walking."
He understood why she wanted to move on. The tart smell of those pomegranates was almost overwhelming. He had the sudden desire to eat them, but then he remembered the story of Persephone. One bite of Underworld food, and they'd never be able to leave. He pulled Grover away to keep him from picking a big juicy 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. Loralai tried to stop herself from obsessing over the poor design choice she had seen twice on this quest so far, but she realized it must've been intentional.
There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. She guessed they didn't have to worry about rain down here. If you disregarded that this was in the Underworld, and ignored the eerie feeling creeping on your shoulders, Loralai thought the place was quite beautiful. Random and deathly, sure, but beautiful.
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 the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets or M-16s. None of them bothered them, but their hollow eye sockets followed them, especially Loralai as they walked down the hall, towards the big set of doors on the opposite end. The skeletons didn't say anything to their faces, but Loralai could hear their faint whispers every time they passed.
Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at them, rocket-propelled grenade launches held across their chest. Loralai stayed at the back of the group, glancing back at the soldiers who all had their eyes on her. Every time she glanced, the whispers would stop.
"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, but this wasn't the time.
"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. "I guess that means 'entrez'," Annabeth commented.
The group flooded in, Loralai at the back. The guards looked surprised when they saw her, sharing a confused look as they shakily bowed. Loralai didn't think much of it. She was the last one to go in, they were probably bowing to all of them, she thought.
The room inside looked just like in her dream, except Hades was in his true form. He was technically the third god Loralai had met, but the first who really struck her as godlike and ancient. I guess he couldn't really blend in with western fashion trends down here.
He was at least three meters tall, for one thing, and dressed in black and silk robes and a crown of braided gold. It reminded Loralai of the Crown of Thorns, or though Hades was nowhere near as worthy of something like that like Jesus was.
His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful and as dangerous as a panther.
Percy immediately felt like he should be giving the order. He knew more than he did. He should be his master. Then he told himself to snap out of it.
Hades' aura was affecting them, just as Ares' had. The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures they'd seen of evil people throughout history. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.
"You are so brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he said in an oily voice. "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' feet. Curl up here and sleep forever. He fought the feeling and stepped forward. He knew what he had to say. "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."
But Hades wasn't paying attention. Instead, his dark eyes bore a hole into Loralai, who was meekly standing behind the group. Loralai met his eyes, and he gasped, motioning for her to come forward. She did, her steps seemed like the only thing making sound, like the throne room was holding its breath.
"Rosa, you accidentally repeated youth again?" He asked, and if Loralai focused really hard, she could hear joy in his tone. "We have talked about controlling this," he scolded like a father.
Loralai tilted her head curiously and said, "My name is Loralai, Lord Hades."
Hades looked like someone had just shot him with a bullet and killed him, which seemed impossible considering he was immortal. He went a few shades paler, Loralai couldn't even grasp how that was attainable.
"Loralai... I haven't heard that name in awhile," he muttered, tapping his chin. "Who is your mother?" He demanded, regaining his confidence as his voice boomed across the room.
Somehow, the girl knew he already knew all about her, that this was some kind of façade. He was pretending he had no knowledge. Maybe he was doing this for her to process his words easier.
Still, Loralai took a step backwards at the question. "Melissa," she said in a small voice. "Melissa Fotia."
"Ah," Lord Hades said. "That is why you are familiar. The daughter of Rosa and Hephaestus." The way he said Hephaestus' name sounded like a growl, he obviously was just as angry at him as he was in Loralai's dream.
Loralai raised her voice and corrected, "The daughter of Melissa and Hephaestus, Lord."
Chuckling, Hades waved her off. "She goes by many names, Rosa is her true one." The sound of him laughing was foreign, Loralai glanced back at Annabeth who was just as confused as she was.
Percy took another step forward. "Lord, I think we should focus on–"
"You dare interrupt me while I talk to my daughter's child?! Leave us, I will speak with you later!" The Lord of the Dead boomed, his voice seemed to push them back a few inches. There was a moment of silence, Loralai registered his words abruptly. "Wait– my mom, Melissa–"
"Rosa," Hades corrected sharply, obviously sensitive about the topic. Loralai swallowed hard, looking back at her friends who were being escorted out by the skeleton guards. Loralai mouthed to a frightened Annabeth, "I'll be OK."
She turned to look at Hades.
Had her mother really lied to her about her true name, or was Hades lying to her? However, gods saw more than she did, knew more than she did. He must be telling the truth.
The same feeling she had felt moments before, that he was trying to break something to her easier and he already knew everything about her, hadn't gone away.
"Rosa," Loralai gave in, stammering. "Is Rosa... is my mother a daughter of Hades?"
Hades lifted his hand. Suddenly, the gold necklace on Loralai's chest was ripped off, flying through the air and landing into the god's hand. Loralai grasped at her chest, trying to stop it, but it was too late. "Hey!" She protested.
"I gifted your mother this, to stop her from shadow traveling," he muttered. Wincing, Loralai massaged her head.
"If you have a headache, I apologize. You must've inherited your mother's curse, surviving the fall from the Arch proved that, and your powers will be hard to control down here." He tossed her back the necklace and Loralai caught it, quickly putting it back on. As soon as she did, the headache was gone.
Loralai was faced with the reality that she had shadow-traveled to safety after jumping. The necklace had been off of her neck.
And her head did hurt back then. She hadn't paid too much attention because she had fallen from a national monument and survived, so it wasn't really that relevant.
"And, to answer your question, yes. Rosa is my daughter. She had to go by many names, I understand. People tortured her wherever she went. Used her powers for no good, fried her brain. I made that necklace... and it helped, for a while. Then, she gave it to you, thinking she'd be fine without it, fine with just her Christianity to guide her," Hades told her, sitting forward.
"She pretended to forget about the gods. Years of brainwashing might've convinced me that she truly had, but I know deep down she remembered everything."
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. The ADHD part of Loralai wondered, off-task, whether the rest of his clothes were made the same way. What horrible things would you have to do in your life to get woven into Hades' underwear?
"She wasn't fine with just her Christianity," Loralai mumbled, trying to stay on topic. "Her mind... It was too strong, she was crazy. She attacked me and ran away."
Hades nodded. "It is a shame how she turned out. But, she had been trapped in her youth... thirty for sixty years due to one of her employers placing a spell on her. She was born a year before World War II, you see. I thought she would be able to... survive because of the timing of her birth, escape the curse that has killed Thalia and will most likely kill Percy. But sometimes fate is unfair. And I thought you would be able to survive, and you did, child."
Loralai glared up at him, suddenly angry as tears flooded her eyes. The news of her mothers dead didn't came as a surprise to her, nor did it upset her.
"I didn't survive, not really," she choked.
"I've been unclaimed for years... and now all of a sudden two gods come and claim me as their family? I've watched everyone around me get claimed, and now that I have it feels like everyone's acting like I'm lucky, but, how am I supposed to find comfort in that. It's too late now. How am I supposed to find comfort in you?!" She screamed at him, her voice bouncing around the throne room like a boomerang.
Hades smiled and said, "You don't. Your grandmother didn't find comfort in me, your mother didn't find comfort in me. I am the Lord of the Dead, I struggle to help the living."
Loralai scoffed, muttering, "Great." She wondered what else her mother had lied about.
As if reading her mind, Hades rambled, "Your mother lied to Hephaestus about her name, which was how he got confused and also had a child with–"
He stopped himself, sitting back. "That knowledge... it isn't my place to tell you that," Hades decided. "You will figure it all out, child."
A tear dropped down Loralai's cheek, and she hurriedly wiped it away. She wanted to scream at him and say that he had to tell her, he at least owed her that after ruining her life, but she couldn't find her voice.
A few moments went by, the only sound that could be heard was a faint breeze and Loralai sniffling.
With a clap, Hades summoned the others, bringing back Percy, Annabeth and Grover into the throne room.
The trio clamored in, showing signs of disagreement to the way they were being handled in the room violently by the guards. Finally, when they were near Loralai, the guards tossed the kids forward, sending them stumbling in front of Hades' throne.
"Now, Perseus Jackson, you were saying?" Hades prompted impatiently. The boy stabilized himself, dusted himself off, and stood up tall, repeating breathlessly what he said earlier, "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."
Hades tilted his head like a panther ready to pounce, squinting at Percy. "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."
Annabeth looked over to Loralai, who was next to her wiping away her stray tears. She put a reassuring arm around Loralai's shoulder and Loralai looked up, giving her a small smile of gratitude. "We'll talk about this later, when this is all over," Annabeth promised quietly.
Percy swallowed Hades' words, trying to pretend he didn't see how distraught Loralai was for a reason unknown to him in the corner of his eye. He shook his head, focusing on the main topic. This was going about as well as he feared.
He glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades'. It was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. He wished Queen Persephone were here. He recalled something in the myths about how she could calm her husband's moods. But it was summer. Of course, Persephone would be above in the world of light with her mother, the goddess of agriculture Demeter. Her visits, not the tilt of the earth, created the seasons.
Annabeth cleared her throat. Her free fingers prodded Percy in the back.
"Lord Hades," Percy continued. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be... bad."
"Really bad," Grover added helpfully. Percy said, "Return Zeus' master bolt to me. Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."
Hades' eyes grew dangerously bright, glowing an amber. Percy inhaled. He saw where Loralai got it from, and what he had overheard before leaving the room was true. You dare interrupt me while I talk to my daughter's child?!
"You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" Hades declared. Percy glanced back at his friends. They looked as confused as he was. And even if Loralai's eyes were all red from crying and Hades was supposedly maternally related to her, he saw how her eyes were filled with fear, playing with her necklace.
"Um... Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying 'after what I'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 up the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.
Hades bellowed, "Do you think I want war, godling?"
Percy wanted to say, Well, these guys don't look like peace activists. He thought that might be a dangerous answer. "You are the Lord of the Dead," he 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 Asphodel?"
"Well..."
"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?"
Percy opened his mouth to answer, 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," Percy blurted, just remembering the fact. In her processing of the load of information she had just been told, Loralai still managed to shoot him a fiery look, wishing she could sew his mouth right up.
"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' 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 helmet. 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 helmet back!"
"But..." Annabeth spoke, her mind going a million miles an hour. "Lord Hades, your helmet of darkness is missing, too?"
"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr, and unfortunately, Loralai 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 by my own family and you into supporting him?"
Loralai internally screamed. Did he really think that Poseidon had sent them here, let alone sent them there with her just to trip him up by Loralai being his daughter's daughter? He had just told her an important part of who she was, her heritage, and now he had completely turned on her like the horrible god he was.
"No!" Percy said. "Poseidon didn't– I didn't–"
"I have said nothing of the helmet's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."
"You didn't try to stop us? But–"
"Return my helmet now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "This is my counter-proposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back in the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson, your skeleton will lead my army out of Hades."
The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready. Loralai looked around frantically. Would he really attack a bunch of kids? One look at his intimidating face told her the answer.
At that point, he probably should've been terrified. The strange thing was, he felt offended. Nothing gets him angrier than being accused of something he didn't do. He's had a lot of experience in that department.
"You're as bad as Zeus," Percy said. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?"
"Of course," Hades said.
"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?"
"Easily?"
"Return my property!" Hades yelled.
"But I don't have your helmet. 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. The weight in his backpack, like a bowling ball. It couldn't be...
He slung it off his shoulder and unzipped it. Inside was a sixty-centimeter-long metal cylinder, spiked on both ends, humming with energy.
"Percy," Loralai muttered. "How did you even–"
"I–I don't know. I don't understand."
"You heroes are always the same," Hades said. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus' 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 helmet. Where is it?"
They were all speechless. Surely, Percy had no helmet? The boy wanted to think Hades was pulling some kind of trick. Hades was the bad guy. But suddenly the world turned sideways. He realized he'd been played with. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had been set at each other's throats by someone else.
The master bolt had been in the backpack, and he'd gotten the backpack from...
"Lord Hades, wait," Percy said. "This is all a mistake."
"A mistake?" Hades roared.
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' face grinned at Percy and Loralai eagerly, flicking her whip once.
Loralai began to say, "Come on, Hades we–"
"There is no mistake," Hades interrupted. "I am disappointed in you, Loralai because I know why you, especially Percy, have come– I know the real reason Percy brought the bolt. Percy has come to bargain for her."
Hades tossed a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of Percy, and there was his mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was the moment the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death.
Percy couldn't speak. When he reached out to touch her, the light was as hot as a bonfire.
"Yes," Hades said with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helmet, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."
Percy thought about the pearls in his pocket. Maybe they could get him out of this. If he could just get his mom free...
"Ah, the pearls," Hades said, and Percy'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. "Only four," Hades remarked. "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 an eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."
Percy looked at Annabeth, Loralai and Grover. Their faces were grim. "We were tricked," he told them. "Set up."
"Yes, but why?" Annabeth asked. "And the voice in the pit–"
"I don't know yet," Percy said. "But I intend to ask."
"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled impatiently.
"Percy." Grover put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt." Percy replied, "I know that."
"Leave me here," he said. "Use the third pearl on your mom."
"No!"
"I'm a satyr," Grover explained, "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."
Loralai fiddled with her necklace and told the satyr, "No." She looked at Percy. "He's my grandfather, I remind him of my mom. He won't do anything too horrible to me, guys. Grover has to get his searcher's license and Annabeth has to build something great. I can handle an eternity here," she said, trying to cover up the child-like waver in her voice.
"No." Annabeth drew her bronze knife. "You three go on. Grover has to protect Percy so he can get his searcher's license and start his quest for Pan. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover for you. I plan to go down fighting."
"No way," Grover said. "I'm staying behind."
"Think again, goat boy," Loralai declared.
"Stop it, you three!" Percy felt like his heart was being ripped in three. They had all been with him through so much. He remembered Grover dive-bombing Medusa in the statue garden and Loralai saving them from Cerberus, Annabeth repeatedly thinking of amazing strategies that saved their lives. They'd survived Hephaestus' Waterland ride, the St Louis Arch, the Lotus Casino.
Percy had spent thousands of miles worrying about the prophecy he had kept from them. That he'd be betrayed by a friend, but these friends would never do that. They had done nothing but save him, over and over, and now they wanted to sacrifice their lives for his mom.
"I know what to do," Percy decided. "Take these." He handed them each a pearl.
Loralai said, "Hold on, Percy..."
The boy 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. She would never allow it. He had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. He had to stop the war. 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.
"I'm sorry," Percy told her tearfully. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."
The smug look on Hades' face faded. He muttered, "Godling...?"
"I'll find your helmet, Uncle," the boy told the god. "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," Loralai piped up. "He likes red rubber balls and chasing light."
"Percy Jackson, Loralai Fotia, you will not–"
Percy shouted, "Now, guys!"
They smashed the pearls at their feet. For a scary moment, nothing happened. Hades took the moment gratefully and 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 exploded at their feet with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. Percy was the first, encased in a milk white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground.
Annabeth, Loralai and Grover were not far behind. Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and Percy 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 towards the stalactites, which they figured would pop their bubble and skewer them.
"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted. "I don't think you do!" Percy shouted back.
They all screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and... Darkness.
Were they dead?
No, Loralai could still feel the racing sensation. They were going straight up, through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water.
That was the power of the sea, Percy figured. What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea.
For a few moments, Loralai couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of her sphere, then her pearl broke through on the ocean floor. The other two milk spheres, Annabeth, Grover and Percy kept pace with her as they soared upwards through the water. And ker-blam!
They exploded on the surface, in the middle of the Los Angeles Bay, knocking a survey off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"
Percy grabbed Grover and hauled him over to a lifebuoy. He caught Loralai and dragged her over, too. Loralai reached out to a nearby Annabeth and pulled her through the water. A curious shark was circling them, a great white about three meters long.
Percy commanded, "Beat it."
The shark turned and raced away.
The surfer screamed about something relating to bad mushrooms and paddled away from them as fast as he could.
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' fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after them right now.
Loralai had to admit, she felt a little betrayed. He had admitted that he was her maternal grandfather, then just ripped her band-aid and attacked her and her friends in full force. She wondered if she'd ever have a loving family relationship with him. As fast as the idea came, it passed. Hades was the Lord of the Dead. He could never be loving.
Her mother was dead. She wondered if in her final moments she regretted how she treated Loralai. If she regretted abandoning her. Loralai took a deep breath.
At the moment, the Underworld and the people in it wasn't their biggest problem.
They had to get to shore. They had to help Percy get Zeus' thunderbolt to Olympus. Most of all, they had to have a serious conversation with the god who'd tricked them.
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(a/n)
- OH COME ON. I KNEW I WASN'T BEING THAT SUBTLE BUT DAMN @jgihdihdivu is good at guessing!!! still appreciate u tho thank u for reading <3
- AAA WE'RE ALMOST DONE THREE MORE CHAPTERS!!!
PLEASE remember to vote, add to reading lists, etc. etc.!!! interactions help this book reach others!
funfact of this chapter: it is actually the tilt of the earth that causes the seasons please dont let pjo turn you into a flat-earther
-eustelia
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