As usual, Cressida was right. Talking with his mom was exactly what he needed to deal with the shock of being younged again. They'd had a nice chat on the fire escape, despite the way Percy was terrified about his mother climbing out on there when she was still in the first trimester of her pregnancy.
Percy had then come inside to do the dishes as his mother had asked to see Cressida sitting on the couch with Paul as they talked baby names. It was this stupid little game they played where they came up with the most ridiculous names they could think of and whoever had the craziest one won.
Paul's jazz vinyl played as Sally took Cressida's seat and Cressida moved into the kitchen, hopping up on the counter next to the sink as Percy told her about what his mom said. How he was far from helpless and everyone, especially teenage demigods, doubted themselves from time to time. And it was perfectly ok for it to happen.
Cressida was feeding him pieces of chocolate as he did the dishes and they started playing a game of their own. Every time throughout their lives when they felt so doubtful, like Percy had felt today - they didn't even get close to finishing the game.
When Percy was done, Paul and Sally wished them both goodnight, but they both stayed up doing homework. Cressida finished a history essay while Percy did an essay of his own and did advanced algebra while Cressida read through his essay.
And that night, as they both slept wrapped in each other arms, it was the best sleep they'd had in a long time, and boy would they need it for what was to come.
********************************
The next three days were some of the most mundane they'd had. Assignments, meeting with their friends for smoothies, movies, or even just for a walk was actually really nice.
Percy's first swim meet of the year rolled around and he managed to be impressive but not too impressive. And he didn't summon a tidal wave in the deep end or anything. However, having Cressida cheering for him in the stands also helped.
However, on Friday, the day before the Farmer's market, and one of the three dreadful days that Cressida wasn't on campus, his mundane routine was disrupted. Today's lunch was a BLT sandwich, salty crisps, grapes, a blueberry-flavoured juice box, and some blue jellybeans. Oh, he was a lucky man - until Ganymede stopped by.
He'd filled the god in on their progress so far and had headed home to tell Cressida what happened and his girlfriend had news of her own.
Annabeth had Iris-Messaged with a plan for tomorrow. Seeing as they were meeting Iris, it was probably better to be introduced to the goddess despite the fact that Percy had already met her - they weren't taking the chance that Iris remembered him or liked him. So they were going to get a child of Iris to give them an introduction. And since Butch was home in Minnesota and there weren't any year-rounders at camp, there was only one local child of Iris they could ask.
And on Saturday, Grover was thrilled to find out who it was.
Blanche was the total opposite of what you'd expect a daughter of Iris to be. The daughter of the rainbow goddess preferred wearing black and she was a photographer who only ever photographed things and people in black and white monochrome. She also possessed the ability to drain the colour out of things and people - she'd done it at camp once and it freaked out almost everyone. The monochrome effect would pass and wasn't deadly but Chiron had still required Cressida's help to calm down an entire camp full of armed, panicked demigods.
Now they were following Blanche through the Farmer's market as Grover traipsed along next to her, trying to engage her in conversation. Occasionally he'd throw himself into her line of vision, posing in different dramatic angles, draping himself across tables of vegetables like a lounge singer on a piano. She just ignored him, stopping every once in a while to photograph a dying dandelion or ragweed growing between the cracks in the pavement.
Annabeth just rolled her eyes as she tried to ignore the scene.
"Captain Nemo," Cressida said as they walked, "I can hear you grinding your teeth from here. Relax."
"Am not," he said childishly, even though he totally was.
"Honey," she said before smacking Percy's hand with hers and lacing their fingers together. "Take it easy. Enjoy the day. I'll even buy you lunch later."
"That doesn't make me feel any better."
She gave him a blank stare.
"Ok! So it does! Sue me!"
"How about I kiss you?"
"Sold."
And they stopped for a second as Percy tugged on her hand, pulling her to him as he kissed and let all the tension flow out of his body. Which was an easy thing to do considering she was the descendant of the god of pleasure and his skin was tingling like fireworks. All he could focus on was the way she held him, the way her lips pressed onto his like it was what they were made for (well that and insulting him which usually led to kissing anyway).
When she pulled away, their foreheads pressed together as her nails grazed his jaw.
"Come on," she said as she took his hand and led him after their friends. And let's just say that his mind was sufficiently mushy enough to forget about all his worries.
The deeper they got into the market, the more the stalls started to offer stuff that didn't have much to do with farms. A leatherworker was hawking hand-tooled pouches, wallets, and knife sheaths. A soap maker offered cruelty-free soap, because nothing is worse than showering with cruel soap. An incense maker displayed a thousand different kinds of smelly stuff to burn.
Blanche stopped suddenly. "Okay, there's my mom." She pointed down the aisle, past a linen towel salesman and a display of macramé plant hangers.
And there was Iris. Today, Iris was a plump, grandmotherly woman with long grey hair and a flowing purple and-white muumuu decorated with . . . well, iris flowers. Her booth was decorated with thousands of crystals—some hanging from embroidered cords, some set in bronze holders, all flashing in the sunlight and sending a riot of rainbows across the market.
"Just relax," Blanche told them. "Let me do the talking."
"As long as I look all right," Grover said, turning his face to the sun in his best impression of a dying wildflower.
Blanche paid him no mind. She marched up to the booth with them in her wake. Iris's eyes lit up as we got closer. "My dear, what a lovely surprise! And you brought . . . friends!"
"They're fellow campers," Blanche said. "They wanted to meet you."
Iris looked them over and her multicoloured eyes did not look as friendly as her smile tried to be. She at least seemed to be interested in Cressida's brightly coloured eyes.
"How wonderful," Iris said noncommittally. Her mouth tugged down at the corners as she examined her daughter. "And I see you're still wearing all black. Didn't you like the scarf I sent you?"
"Yeah, it was great," Blanche said. "The pink hummingbirds were totally my style."
Iris winced. "And I don't suppose . . ." She gestured at the camera. "I don't suppose you have started using colour film?"
"Black and white is better," Blanche said.
Iris seemed to be trying to smile while a dagger was being twisted into her gut. "I see."
"So, anyway," Blanche continued, "you said you'd be happy to do me a favour?"
Iris's eyes widened. "Yes, of course, my dear! A new dress? A better camera? A trip to see the northern lights?"
The goddess sounded weirdly desperate to please her daughter. It pained Iris to see her child so obsessed with monochrome.
Percy wondered if feigning indifference would get his father's attention; moving to the Sahara Desert and pretending to hate water. He doubted it but he knew with complete certainty that Dionysus would cover the entire island of Manhattan in grapevines if his daughter suddenly decided that she didn't like grapes or wine or theatre. And that would only be the beginning.
"I want you to listen to them," Blanche said, jabbing a thumb in their direction. "They're going to sound like they're accusing you of theft."
Iris went dangerously still. "Excuse me?"
"But they just want information. Don't zap them. Don't curse them. Just . . . try to help them, okay? That's the favour."
Finally, the goddess sighed. "Very well, dear. For you." Her voice took on a sweeter, slightly pleading tone. "And then maybe we could do something together? Binge WandaVision?"
"Oh my gods, that ending made both of us cry," Cressida commented.
"No spoilers!" Iris hissed and Cressida raised a hand up in surrender.
"That sounds great, Ma. I'll message you," Blanche said before turning on Annabeth. "I'm outta here, then. Good luck. And remember our deal."
Annabeth nodded. "Grover will be there."
Grover yelped. "Be where?"
"My studio." Blanche handed him a business card. "Next week. For a series of still shots. Been trying to line you up forever, but you play hard to get."
Grover's jaw dropped down to basement level. Blanche trudged off through the market, no doubt looking for sickly weeds and dead rats to immortalize with her lens.
"Well then," Iris said to us, "let's hear what you supposedly think I stole. And I will do my best to help . . . or at least not kill you."
Then they launched into the tale of their adventures so far. But the second they mentioned Ganymede's missing chalice, she grimaced like she'd gotten a crystal shard stuck somewhere uncomfortable.
She also didn't look impressed when they described their time in Hebe Jeebies.
"Obviously, we don't think you took the chalice," Annabeth concluded. "That would be silly."
"Though if you did," Grover said, "we'd love to get it back."
Annabeth frowned at him. Grover didn't seem to notice. He had a photogenic glow to him, like now that he was a portrait model for Blanche, he was invulnerable.
"But of course, you didn't take it," Percy said to the goddess. "Did you?"
Cressida elbowed him. Hard.
"Of course, you didn't take it," she corrected. "Do you happen to know who did?"
Iris pursed her lips. She ran her fingers across the crystal pendants on display, sending fresh bursts of coloured light dancing through the market. "Do you have any idea how thankless a cupbearer's job is?" she asked.
"Doesn't seem fun," Percy admitted.
"No, Percy Jackson. Not fun."
"So," Percy said, "the chalice isn't something you'd want back. Like, not even to mess with Ganymede."
Iris looked miffed. "I do not 'mess' with people," she said. "I feel nothing but sympathy for that poor young god. Swept up by Zeus just because he was attractive, used as an eternal party decoration, and having to endure the scowls of Hera and the others as Zeus dotes on him? No. So many young men and maidens have been the victims of Zeus and those other good ol' gods who do whatever they want with impunity. It's terrible."
"I can see we came to the right place," Annabeth said. "You are perceptive, kind, wise . . . all the things we need to find this cup thief. Your advice is as precious as a rainbow."
Iris smirked. "I see what you're doing. Trying to flatter me."
"The rainbow comment was too much?" Annabeth asked.
"Completely over-the-top." Iris curled her fingers in a Keep it coming gesture.
Annabeth cleared her throat which was clearly a signal that only Cressida understood.
"Iris, we don't know anyone better to guide us," she spoke, turning up the charm as her eyes seemed to sparkle brighter. "Not only are you the goddess of rainbows, but you are a messenger of gods and demigods alike. You don't just pass messages, you see and hear other things as well. You know the gods and who could resent Ganymede. Which is why we came to ask your advice. Who do you think took the chalice?"
Iris eyed the girl for a second as if trying to decide whether or not to incinerate her. "I do have a thought," she said at last and Percy's shoulders visibly relaxed. "But I need to look into the idea . . . discreetly."
"Of course," Grover said. "That's great! Thank you."
"Oh, the information won't be free," Iris added and Percy bit back a comment but his face gave away what he was thinking. "Not because I don't want to help you. I know you think we gods can't resist giving demigods little errands . . . and you're right. You show up on our doorsteps, and we suddenly remember a dozen things we'd love to check off our to-do lists. But it's more than that."
"Knowledge has value," Annabeth guessed. "The more valuable, the more it has to be earned."
Iris beamed. "Spoken like a true daughter of Athena. Also, this will give you something to do while I investigate my hunch."
"Don't worry," she said. "My quest shouldn't take long. And you still have fifteen days until Ganymede's shame is revealed."
Grover flinched. "Why fifteen days?" "That's when Zeus is planning to hold his next feast." Iris stared at our blank expressions, then sighed. "But of course . . . Zeus didn't bother to tell Ganymede that, did he?" She turned to Annabeth. "It's the Epulum Minerva —the old Roman feast to honor your mother. Zeus decided to throw her a party, probably because he wanted something from her. A new invention. A war. A pit-less variety of olive. Who knows? If the chalice isn't found by the feast date, all the gods will realize Ganymede has lost it. Zeus will be outraged. Ganymede will be . . . probably no longer with us."
Grover's lower lip trembled. His photo-op glow had faded. "What do you need us to do?"
Iris smiled. "That's the spirit."
She turned and started removing crystal pendants from a stand in the back of her stall. It was a wooden staff the size of a broomstick, with some kind of fancy metal decoration at the top. Iris picked up the staff. She laid it on the table between them.
Annabeth inhaled sharply. "That's your kerykeion!"
"Ah, right. A kerykeion," Percy said dumbly and Cressida smacked her forehead with her hand.
"It's a herald's staff, Barnacle Brain. Like the one we recovered for Hermes to go to Paris. Which you would know -"
"Yeah, Greek History Class. I know, I know."
"Yes . . ." Iris agreed wistfully. "Another former job of mine. I was the gods' herald."
While there were no living snakes on this staff, the headpiece was indeed shaped like a pair of serpents. They had tiny horns and were coiled into a figure eight, facing each other at the top. The metal had gotten coated with grime over the years, so it was hard to make out many details. The wood was also in pretty bad shape, with dark soot stains and grease spots.
While Percy was lost in thought that he missed what the staff was made of, Iris moved on to explain what she wanted them to do. "In ancient times, I used my staff to create wonderful rainbows as I flew through the sky, traveling from place to place. I miss that. . . ." She sighed. "I would like you to give the staff a proper cleaning. Bring it back to its former glory. I admit, I should've done this a while ago, but I suppose . . . Well, I was bitter about losing that job to Hermes."
"I'm guessing we can't just use Windex," Percy said. "Or take the staff to a dry cleaner?"
"Oh, no," she said. "It can only be washed in the River Elisson."
Annabeth blinked. "I don't know that one."
"Please don't let it be another river in the Underworld," Cressida prayed.
"It's not. I've heard of it," Grover said. He didn't look happy about it. "Back in the day, the Elisson was known for its crystal-clear magical water. Supposedly it could clean anything, no matter how polluted. And . . . certain creatures took advantage."
"That's true," Iris agreed. "The Furies sometimes bathe there. The River Elisson is the only thing that can get the stench of the Underworld off them when they have to move among mortals."
"I get to fight Alecto?!" Cressida said excitedly.
"Let's hope not, Wine Vine," Percy said.
"Other monsters, too," Grover said, glancing at the staff's snaky headpiece. "Like horned serpents."
"Yes, very good, young satyr," Iris said. "In fact, you must cleanse my staff in the very river where the serpents bathe."
"And these serpents are super friendly," Percy guessed.
Iris gasped. "Oh, no. They will try to kill you." Like Hebe, she was apparently immune to sarcasm. "But be careful: you must not harm the serpents."
"Because they're sacred to you?"
"Not at all. However, I want this quest to be cruelty-free. You must find a way to accomplish my task without harming any creatures at the river. Good luck, demigods! Now I must return to my duties." A gaggle of customers descended on Iris's booth and started oohing and ahhing over her crystals. They were dismissed. Percy grabbed the staff.
"Cruelty-free," Annabeth grumbled. "I guess that doesn't include cruelty to demigods."
"Please," Cressida scoffed. "Daughter of the patron god of serpents," she said pointing to herself. "We got this."
"I've always wanted to see the River Elisson. There's only one problem," Grover said.
"Aside from the monsters we can't kill?" Percy asked.
He waved that away. "I mean the actual River Elisson in Greece no longer exists. The mythical river could be anywhere. I heard that the god of the river got so disgusted with all the monsters bathing in his waters, he hid the river so it's almost impossible to find. And Iris didn't tell us where it is."
"I suppose she'd say we have to find it on our own," Percy guessed. "Because knowledge is valuable, blah, blah."
Annabeth poked him in the ribs. "What we need is an upper-level water spirit to give us directions. Those Nereids and naiads all know each other. I wonder where we could find a Nereid to ask. . . ." She looked at Percy pointedly.
He ground his teeth some more. "Fine. I'll wait until Monday and ask my guidance counsellor. I just hope she doesn't flush me again."
"She won't," Cressida proclaimed. "I'm coming with you to meet this water nymph."
"Great," Percy huffed. "Now she can flush both of us."
Cressida poked him in the ribs.
********************************
Long story short, Cressida wasn't a fan of Eudora. Not only did the nymph choose now to mention that they weren't limited to one rec letter per quest, but they could get dual credit by asking any god they encountered but not they were no longer eligible for it since you had to apply for it in advance - but she flushed both Percy and his girlfriend to the River Elisson.
They ended up in Yonkers. Not only that, but they shot out of a drainage pipe, tumbled down a rocky slope, and splashed into a creek.
The first thing he did when he regained his bearings was look for Cressida, who was coughing up creek water.
"Are you ok?" he asked as he moved closer to her, pulling a twig out of her hair.
"Yeah, I'm good," she promised before they helped each other to their feet. "I see why you don't like getting flushed."
"Yeah. It's not fun. Neither is being in Yonkers."
The riverbed was lined with scrubby bushes and gray boulders—many of them now painted with blood and skin samples from their tumble out of the drainage pipe. The water was what you might politely call non-potable —muddy brown and streaked with foam like bubble bath, except they were pretty sure it wasn't bubble bath.
"I'm going to have the longest, hottest shower in the world when we get home," she huffed as mud seeped into her ballet flats.
"Don't you mean we are going to have the longest, hottest shower?" he corrected.
"Are you going to clean out the mud from between my toes?" she asked with an incredulous look that he only mirrored.
"You do realise that you have me wrapped around your finger and that I would literally do anything you ask, right?"
"So you say."
He rolled his eyes. "Come on, Drama Queen," he said before he hoisted her onto his back, keeping her feet out of the mud as he began wading through the creek.
The marshy area next to them was labelled Saw Mill River Muskrat Habitat. Percy couldn't sense any muskrats so he hoped they were vacationing in Miami.
"So this is supposedly the cleanest river in the world?" Cressida asked as she clutched his shoulders, both of them sopping wet.
"Well, do you remember that article my mom showed us? The one about how a bunch of urban rivers had been paved over back in the day and turned into underground drainage canals, and how people were now trying to open them up again and make them nature habitats. What did they call it . . . ? Daylighting a river."
"Well, I don't think Saw Mill River is enjoying its daylighting."
"Agreed," Percy said.
Three blocks north, the water trickled reluctantly from a tunnel large enough to drive a truck through. The current was sluggish as if it wanted to crawl back into the darkness and hide. That was probably where they needed to go.
And the good thing about carrying his girlfriend is that he didn't have to worry about looking for monsters. That was her job while he focused on not stumbling or slipping over mossy rocks.
About halfway to the tunnel, they caught a whiff of putrid air from the entrance. Percy couldn't control himself as he doubled over and gagged, barely managing to keep Cressida on his back as she coughed, using one hand to hold her nose and the other to cover Percy's.
"Percy," Cressida said as she pointed at something in the water and he adjusted her so he could hold her with one arm and pick up the object with the other. At first, it looked like a plastic bag, but then they saw the honeycomb pattern on the membrane. Like scales. Like the shed skin of a snake.
"Well that's helpful for my nausea," Percy groaned as he dropped it.
"Relax, Fish Face. I'll protect you," she promised as she kissed his cheek and he did feel better.
"Can you protect me from this?" Percy asked as he picked up something else. It was curved and pointy and about the size of an index finger. The broken talon glistened in the sunlight - just like the ones that the Furies like Alecto had.
"Cake," she promised before Percy turned back to the cave.
"Ok, we're not going in there without backup," he announced.
"Or more importantly, without the staff."
"Right," he said dumbly as if he'd forgotten about the whole point of this quest within a quest. "Come on. We've got a long walk ahead of us to the nearest train station."
"Uh, I'm not walking to a train station."
"Well, I can carry you for most of it but I can only -"
"For the sake of the gods', Barnacle Brain, there's a reason why you are not a child of Athena," she said before she lifted her fingers to her lips and let out a taxi-cab whistle.
"Ohhh!" Percy drawled as he realised what she was doing and let her slide off his back.
"You're lucky you're attractive," she said as they heard the familiar flapping of wings as Blackjack heeded her call.
"Let's not pretend that you're only with me for my looks."
"Who's pretending?"
"You keep pushing your luck, Grape Girl, just you wait," he threatened and she gave a dramatic sigh.
"Promises, promises."
Percy's stare was menacing as Cressida's eyes twinkled with mischief. His hand rested on the nape of her neck as he pulled her close and her breathing hitched. "It's more than a promise."
And he sealed it with a kiss before their moment was interrupted as Blackjack landed.
********************************
The next afternoon, they returned with Annabeth and Grover and both of them had looked at Percy funny when he told them that the cleanest river in the world was in downtown Yonkers.
He also wondered what the Mist was making mortals see as he held Iris's staff on the subway. He held that while Grover had a backpack full of snacks and his panpipes and Annabeth had a bag full of practical things, like her knife, flashlights, and who knows what else. However, Cressida had nothing but her charm bracelet and whatever little knick-knacks she'd fitted into her boots.
By 4 pm, they were standing in the creek bed, peering into the mouth of the tunnel and Cressida was prepared as she wore her tallest combat boots so her feet didn't get covered in mud.
Grover sniffed the air. "Cleanest river in the world?"
"I said the same thing," Cressida said.
"This is after the Furies and snakes bathed in it," Percy said.
"And who knows what else," Annabeth added.
Grover dipped his shoe in the brown water. "I guess we can't just roll the staff around in this muck and call it a day."
"We'll have to go inside," said Annabeth, distributing the flashlights, but Cressida turned hers down in favour of a ball of purple fire in her palm, arming herself with both light and her magic. "Hope it's cleaner upriver. Let's hug the bank and try to stay out of the water."
As they forged into the tunnel though, it was hard to keep to the bank as the sides turned narrow and slippery and they began sloshing around in the stream.
"Another Phlegethon hot shower tonight?" Percy muttered to Cressida as he walked.
"Oh obviously," she said as they made it to the hundred-yard line where Annabeth stopped.
"Check it out," she said. She moved the beam of her flashlight across the tunnel's ceiling, which was coated with moss and lichen so thick you couldn't tell if there was manmade asphalt or natural rock underneath. Wherever Annabeth's light passed, it left behind a streak of blue-green luminescence.
"Cool." Percy used his flashlight to draw a glowing smiley face on the wall.
"How old are you?" Annabeth asked.
"Eight just last week."
Annabeth grinned while Cressida let out a laugh at his joke. That was still his favourite sound in the world as they spent the next few minutes painting light graffiti.
Grover wrote Pan 4ever.
Annabeth traced concentric arcs until she'd made a blue and green rainbow.
Percy wrote CL + PJ. That had earned him a kiss before Cressida blew at the ball of fire in her hands and a flaming heart surrounded the letters.
Percy even handed over his flashlight so that Cressida could write C12 Rulez. He then crossed out the 12 for a 3 before Cressida set it on fire and replaced the 3 with a 12, giving her cabin prime placement once more.
The couple just laughed at each other as the moss glowed and they kept walking.
Up ahead, the channel widened into a much larger space. The sound of the current became louder and throatier. They stepped into a cavern so massive it seemed like a different world. Under a cathedral-high ceiling covered with glowing stalactites, the river wound north between rolling plains of yellow grass. Ash-coloured trees dotted the landscape, leafless and stunted, their branches curled like arthritic fingers.
Here and there, outcroppings of granite made islands in the grass, but the main attraction was the river itself. It wound lazily through the cavern, making big loops as if it were in no hurry to reach the daylight. Thick stands of reeds edged its banks. The current glimmered darkly in the blue moss light. The water did look cleaner here. The putrid smell was gone.
But in a pool about twenty yards upstream, dozens of slithery, slimy whiplike creatures were rolling and writhing in the shallows, making me never want to eat spaghetti again.
"Gross," Annabeth muttered.
"Hey, now, check your mammalian prejudices," Grover whispered. "Reptiles are people, too."
"With poison," Percy pointed out. "And cold blood. And a nasty bite. And . . . okay, maybe that also describes humans."
Grover nodded. Thank you.
"Lights out," Annabeth whispered as they switched off their flashlights and Cressida let her fire go out, the snakes still not noticing them.
"You think we can sneak around them, go further upstream?" Percy wondered.
Grover sniffed the air. "This whole place smells like monsters. I can't tell if there's more besides the snakes nearby. Anything could hide in that tall grass."
"Including us," Annabeth said. "If we can't fight the serpents, sneaking around them sounds like our best option."
"Okay," Grover agreed. "Let me go first, though. I might be able to pick out a safe trail through the fields."
They followed him through the field that crackled like bubble wrap as they walked, audible to any monsters hiding within.
When they finally reached one of the boulder islands, Grover scrambled to the top as someone with goat legs could do, then peered toward the river. "That's not good."
"What?" Percy called.
Grover helped them up. From the summit, they could see the whole course of the river stretched out before us. The Elisson poured into the cavern from a crevice in the northern wall, then cascaded down a series of rocky ledges before widening and meandering across the plains. Everywhere you might be able to access the banks, in every shallow pool or swimming hole where you might want to wash off a grungy kerykeion, the water was full of snakes. Hundreds of them.
"At least I don't see any Furies," Grover offered.
"Yeah," Percy said. "But spaghetti is definitely off the menu this week."
"What?" Grover sounded hurt. He loves spaghetti.
"Nothing," Percy said.
Annabeth scanned the river. "What about there?" She pointed to the northern end of the cave, where the river carved a ravine through jumbled heaps of granite. "That's where the water will be cleanest. No easy access for snakes. Probably the current is too treacherous for them."
"But not for a Poseidon kid?" Percy asked hopefully.
She shrugged. "Worth a shot." "Except there's no way we can make it all the way over there without getting spotted. And if the snakes start chasing us . . . how fast do you think they can go?"
Grover shivered. "Through this grass? A lot faster than we can."
"I kind of wish we had Luke's flying shoes," Annabeth said.
Grover winced. "Too soon." Five years ago, that pair of curs
They were all surprised that Annabeth mentioned Luke after everything that happened, especially now when it seemed like nothing but a bad omen.
"Ok, here's what we're going to do," Cressida announced.
"Crazy Can-Do Cressida Lynn Plan?" Percy questioned and she grinned at him.
"Is there any other way?"
"Lay it on us."
"Ok. Grover and I will take care of the snakes. I can try talking to them and Grover can play his pipes and worst case scenario, I start singing," she began.
"I do know some pretty good snake songs," Grover admitted.
"Exactly," Cressida said. "We take care of them while you guys head for the cliffs and get the staff clean."
"And if you can't control the snakes?" Annabeth inquired and Cressida pouted.
"We don't think negative on this team. We think of crazy shit that leaves us with a thin chance of surviving, much less accomplishing our goal, and we pull it off."
"Are you sure about this?" Percy asked nervously as he looked at his girlfriend.
"Do you trust me?"
"With my life."
"Then trust me with mine. And trust that I'll give you as much time as I can if I can't get through to the snakes."
"You come back to me, you understand?" Percy demanded as Annabeth hugged Grover.
"So long as you do the same," she returned before Percy pecked her lips and then she moved to give Annabeth a quick hug. "Be safe."
"You too."
"You ready, Goat Boy?" Cressida asked and Grover swallowed nervously.
"Ready."
"Then let's do this."
********************************
So, things were actually going alright for Percy and Annabeth until they heard the sound of Cressida's voice singing, the melody getting louder and louder which meant she had to make it more powerful as more and more snakes joined in. If she started singing, her power would only hold out for so long, depending on the type of snake creatures they were dealing with. Annabeth's solution to the problem was to push Percy off a cliff.
Percy had his shoes stolen before he spoke with the god of the river who was not happy about his demigod visitor. He wanted his river clean but didn't trust that Percy would do it and then the boy made the mistake of saying that the Hudson and East rivers were bigger than Elisson. Percy offered to have Elisson host Yoga classes in Poseidon's underwater castle, but the god wasn't interested.
Add that to the ever-growing list of gods that have been offended by Percy Jackson. (A whole book could probably be written, much less a list. Percy Jackson and all the Gods He Has Offended.)
So then, Elisson's solution was to try and drown the son of Poseidon. Now, Percy was not an easy person to drown, but being through around in the bottom of a grotto with gunk being flushed through his nostrils and mouth was like trying to breathe in a sandstorm. He was blind and disoriented, slamming into rocks, unable to concentrate. And it made him angry.
Much like his girlfriend, his control of his power waned significantly when he was scared or angry, and seeing that he was both right down as another god tried to drown him, the river exploded with his rage.
Percy blasted the water away from him, curling up inside a bubble of air and howling so loudly that he could hear himself even over the roar of the torrent. And his powers also had strange reactions to his emotions. For example, millions of metric tons of water now roared through the cavern, flooding the pool, scouring the cliffs, surging over the riverbanks, and probably surprising a whole bunch of snakes bathing downstream.
Eventually, he lashed together enough control to settle the river back into its normal flow, but Percy was still trembling and strung out and terrified by what he just did.
He clutched onto the locket on his camp necklace, the one physical reminder he had of his anchor right now. He tried to calm his breathing and regain his senses as the silt cleared and he thought of Cressida. Of her indigo eyes and the way her lips tasted and the sound of her laugh and the way she said 'I love you.' Of how she spooned him and teased him and loved him and supported him. Of how she made him food and took care of him and called him out on his shit and held him together so many times before.
He'd just gotten his racing heart under control before another thought occurred to him.
Annabeth.
And he shot to the surface.
He should've known better than to worry though. On the ledge above, Annabeth sat with her ankles crossed, talking calmly with a very rattled Elisson. The river god leaned against her like a shell-shocked refugee, shivering and completely coated with river silt. His man bun had come unravelled, so his hair now looked like a dying yucca plant.
Percy had stared at her strangely as she comforted the god who seemed completely terrified of Percy. Annabeth also pointed out to him that Percy had done a great job at cleaning up his river. Now that the sediment had resettled, the pool was even clearer than before. The air smelled fresh and crisp, with that 'new river' smell restored. The current flowed stronger and colder, rushing through the cavern with a jubilant clamour like an audience unleashed onto the streets after a great performance.
Elisson had also learned his lesson about using sarcasm to get Percy to clean the river.
Annabeth then had to point out the staff to Percy who couldn't see it even with how clean the grotto was now. About thirty feet away, Iris's staff had wedged itself into a crevice right above the waterline. The oak shaft gleamed. The elaborate herald's crest glowed with a warm yellow light, not a speck of grime on its Celestial bronze designs.
Percy then swam off to get it and he still heard the sound of Cressida's singing. He started to get anxious as he listened to the dulcet sounds of his theatre girlfriend singing 'Enchanted.' He almost couldn't pick if she sang it better or Taylor did.
He was enchanted by the music before he began worrying about how long she'd been singing for as Grover's panpipes joined in as backup and Percy swam back towards Annabeth and Elisson.
Annabeth gave the god extra packets of herbal tea to calm down.
Elisson promised to reserve every other Saturday for demigods to clean sacred objects.
Percy promised to speak to his dead about the yoga lessons.
The pair of them left the god who thanked them and went running back towards their friends, hoping they hadn't been eaten or poisoned by snakes.
********************************
"Greetings, earthlings!" Percy bellowed, scaring them out of their skin.
"What?! HOW?!" Annabeth exclaimed.
"Di Immortales!" Cressida cursed as Grover let out a bleat.
"I have a message for Cressida Lynn. I love you." Percy would've kissed her after delivering his message, but his girlfriend currently had a snake wrapped around each arm, one around her shoulders, and hundreds of others surrounding them. She didn't seem tired at all and neither did Grover and Annabeth still had a bag full of unused snake treats.
Annabeth laughed. "Ok, I get it. Messenger's staff. Nice work!"
"Yeah, I totally planned it."
"You totally had no idea."
"Just because you're right doesn't mean I don't resent it."
"Hey, Water Boy," Cressida called, gaining his attention. "I love you too," she said before she leaned to kiss him but she pulled away abruptly as the snake around her shoulders hissed. "Simon! We've been over this. You are not biting my boyfriend," she scolded.
"What's with the snakes?" Percy asked nervously.
"Oh, they just needed someone to play with. And a couple of songs didn't hurt. Ah, no thank you, Taj," she said as she looked down at a snake that had been about to coil around Percy's leg. "No, Alex. Not even a little bite."
"You know their names?" Annabeth questioned, a perplexed look in her eyes.
"Of course," Cressida said as if it should be obvious.
"Let's just get back to Manhattan before things get weird." Grover hesitated. "I mean even weirder."
"Ok friends, time to go," Cressida said and Percy swore that they all let out sad hisses, if that was even a thing. "I know, but Percy cleaned out the river for you. You guys should go and enjoy it. Yes, Max, I might come back and visit. No, Alfonso, you cannot replace or kill my boyfriend."
"Excuse me?" Percy blurted. Was a snake really trying to take his girlfriend from him?
Cressida ignored him as she continued speaking to the snakes before eventually saying, "Bye, guys." The snakes slithered off her and back towards the river and the pools surrounding it.
"Were you really going to leave me for a snake?" Percy questioned and she just put her hands on her hips and gave him a deadpanned look. "Right. Stupid question."
"Styx-sworn, remember?" she said as she kissed Percy's cheek before moving over to Grover. "Awesome pipe playing, Goat Boy," she said as his whole face turned red after Cressida kissed his cheek.
"Baa- thank you," he bleated.
"Snakes have weird names," Percy said, trying to help save Grover from his embarrassment.
"Yeah, well, you're going to be the weird one carrying that staff on the train," Cressida retorted.
She was right. The Mist hid them, yes, but he still got strange looks, considering they were all covered in mud and every time Percy burped, he let out a little cloud of indigo or chartreuse.
********************************
The following afternoon, they returned the staff to Iris. And that was mostly because the staff started glowing and shooting rainbows everywhere whenever he or Cressida thought of a message they needed to tell someone - and Cressida was Camp leader, she usually ferried a lot of messages. Not to mention the mail truck that came by and the FedEx guy that delivered some books to Sally from her publisher and the staff tried to beat him up because apparently it saw him as competition.
This adventure was just Percy and the girls because Grover was downtown with Blanche at his photoshoot. Apparently, she was going to dress him in a kilt of withered palm leaves, drape him across a burnt log, and photograph him surrounded by dead insects. Grover planned to frame the photo and present it to Juniper as a gift on her bloom day in January. Cressida had said that was a bad bloom day present but Percy had no clue what either of them were talking about so he had no opinion.
They found Iris pretty easy since the staff was leading Percy to her. They found her in lower Harlem where the goddess was hawking her crystals among a row of sidewalk produce sellers.
"Oh, my!" Iris gasped when she saw them. She took the staff and gave it a full inspection like it was a samurai blade just back from the sword repair shop. "Mercedes, you look amazing!"
"You named your staff Mercedes?" Annabeth asked. Then she quickly added, "That's a beautiful name."
"She seems so happy!" Iris gushed, rainbow tears trickling from her eyes. "I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you."
"Don't," Cressida advised quietly, knowing what Percy was going to do before he did. He'd been about to accept her apology, which would've been fine if the apology was actually for them and not her staff.
"Oh, my sweet." She cradled the staff and continued weeping. "I should have had you cleaned years ago! I will never use you as a display rack again!"
"The quest went well," Percy offered. "Completely cruelty-free."
"What?" Iris stirred slightly. "Oh, yes. Cruelty-free. Of course. Good."
And Percy's expression darkened because he could've destroyed all of those snakes that were hitting on his girlfriend and Iris would've been none the wiser.
"So," Annabeth said, keeping her tone upbeat, "does this mean you'll do some of your Iris-messaging in person again?"
"Hmm?" Iris pulled her eyes away from her beautiful herald's stick. "No, no. Those days are over, though it's wonderful seeing Mercedes in such good condition again. I appreciate your help!" She began humming to herself as she arranged her crystal displays around the table, slowly covering up Mercedes.
"You're welcome," Cressida said. "So, did you get a chance to ask around about Ganymede and the missing chalice?"
Iris blinked. "Yes. Of course. I . . . asked around. But are you sure you wouldn't rather have a crystal for your reward? Perhaps a package of cleansing sage bath salts?"
She kept piling merchandise over Mercedes: sashes, beads, pouches of rocks, as if she wanted to hide the staff as quickly as possible. Why did she seem so nervous?
"Just the information would be great," Annabeth said. "You . . . did get information?"
"Mm-hmm." Iris sighed. "It's just that you seem like such nice young people. I would hate . . ."
"You found where the cup is," Percy guessed, trying not to focus on the half-formed thought that Iris didn't finish.
"I have a fairly good idea," she said grimly.
"Tell all," Percy said.
Iris picked at the macramé bracelet around her wrist. "I have narrowed your search down to Greenwich Village."
Annabeth frowned. "That's a pretty big area."
"He will be there," Iris insisted. "If, indeed, I am right about the thief's identity."
"He . . . ?" Percy prompted but again, Iris made no move to finish the sentence.
"I should have guessed," she mumbled to herself. She picked up a bundle of incense and waved it around, maybe hoping to clear the air, which it did not. "He would, of course, hate Ganymede. And the goblet. But . . ." She shook her head. "I hope I am wrong. I am probably not wrong."
"Who is it?" Annabeth asked. "We need a name."
"He will go by the name . . . Gary."
They didn't laugh, but when Cressida grabbed Percy's arm he just knew that she was thinking about the cartoon snail from SpongeBob SquarePants, just like he was. Oh, could she be any more perfect?
"Gary," Annabeth repeated.
"Yes," Iris said. "I do not know how he managed the theft. Or what he hopes to achieve. But this information came from a reliable cloud nymph."
"So, we go to Greenwich Village," I summed up, "and start asking around for Gary." Iris tilted her head.
"I suppose you could do that. It would be quicker, however, to use nectar." She plucked a vial from her display rack of essential oils, then held it up like she was modelling for a television commercial. But this little vial seemed particularly bright and golden, like sunlight suspended in honey.
Annabeth leaned in. "Is that . . . ?"
"One hundred percent pure concentrate," Iris said with a smug little smile. "Collected from the dew in the groves on Mount Olympus at dawn on the first day of spring. With no additives or preservatives. Do not consume this. Unblended nectar would burn you demigods to cinders."
Percy edged away from it while Cressida just shrugged. "I'd take my chances."
"No, you won't," Percy vetoed as he pulled her away from it.
Iris swirled the little vial, making the insides glow even more. "The chalice of the gods is designed to mix nectar. All nectar is naturally attracted to it. Release a drop or two of this liquid into the air in Greenwich Village, and if the chalice is anywhere in the vicinity, you should be able to follow the droplets right to Gary."
"That's surprisingly helpful," Percy admitted. "Thank you." He reached for the vial, but Iris withdrew her hand.
"Ah-ah," she chided. "There is a price."
"How much?" Annabeth asked. Iris gave us her best hard-bargaining stare. "Five dollars."
"That's it?" Percy asked.
Annabeth elbowed him.
"I mean . . . five dollars? Cash?"
"I also take Venmo," the goddess offered.
"How about eftpos?" Cressida challenged as the goddess narrowed her eyes at her.
"My machine only takes Olympus Express, which I doubt you have -"
"Done," Cressida cut off as she pulled her purple credit card out from her shoe. "Where do I swipe?" she asked with a sickeningly sweet smile as Iris produced an eftpos machine from behind her crystal displays.
Cressida swiped her card and the machine lit up green to confirm the transaction.
Annabeth reached for the vial before she could because she didn't trust that Cressida wouldn't try to drink it.
"Anything else we should know?" Percy asked. "Like who Gary is?"
"No," Iris said. "It's better you do not know. Otherwise . . ." She shook her head.
Another unfinished thought. Great.
They were clearly dismissed as she turned to arrange her collection of tie-dyed shawls.
They also supposed that they could fill in the blanks as they prepared to confront a thief of another godly relic because that always went so well.