Grover was greeted with a kiss on the cheek from Cressida when he showed up with mochi donuts. The four of them stood under the white archway of Washington Square Park while they munched their sugary breakfast and scanned their surroundings.
The sun was just coming up, pouring rosy light through the streets and washing the brick facades of the buildings around the square. In front of them stretched the main plaza—a giant circle of grey stonework radiating from the central fountain. The fountain itself wasn't running. In the summertime, it made a great wading pool for kids, but now the basin was dry.
As for people, there weren't many around. A lady was walking her dog down one of the paths. A few commuters hustled across the plaza. A couple of old guys were playing a chess game at one of the tables under the elm trees. The place was about as empty as anywhere in Manhattan ever gets.
"Ready?" Grover asked. He was trying to look brave and determined, but the image was undercut a little by the green sprinkles of matcha in his goatee.
Cressida handed him a napkin but he misread the purpose and simply stuck it in his mouth as he ate it. She sighed before she took another bite of her donut.
"Let's do it," Percy said, making sure to brush the remaining evidence of his fluorescent blue Cookie Monster donut off his face, or else he probably wouldn't be getting kissed.
Annabeth finished off her pink donut before reaching into her backpack for tissues and menthol rub.
"Isn't this what cops do before they examine dead bodies?" Grover asked, plugging up his nostrils.
"Let's not make that comparison," Annabeth suggested. "No dead bodies today, okay?"
"Oh-tay," Percy muffled since he had wads of Kleenex up his nose. His eyes were beginning to water and his throat stung.
"Here we go," Annabeth said as he took out the glowing vial and twisted off the cap.
She tipped the vial ever so slightly, and three golden droplets trickled out. Instead of falling, they caught the breeze and floated through the air like soap bubbles. Each one drifted in a different direction.
"That's not helpful," Annabeth observed. "Should we split up?"
"Always a derrible idea," Percy said.
So that's what they did.
Percy also didn't give them a choice as to who would double up as he grabbed Cressida's hand and tugged her after one of the droplets.
Cressida just rolled their eyes as she walked with him, keeping an eye on their friends. Annabeth followed her nectar drop down the main concourse toward the chess tables. Grover's bubble led him cross-country through the trees. Theirs wobbled toward the children's play area.
They passed a woman who gave them a wide berth, presumably because of the fact they had tissue wads stuffed up their noses and the gods only know what the Mist made her see, but she didn't drop dead from the floating nectar which they took as a good sign.
"It's too quiet," Cressida said and Percy realised that she was right. The place did feel abandoned. No squirrels. No rats. Not even pigeons. Even the trees seemed too quiet, which isn't something you'd notice unless you'd spent time hanging out with dryads. You get used to their comforting presence, like someone humming a lullaby in your ear. When they're gone, you miss them. Grover was right about the nature spirits fleeing the park.
The nectar bubble drifted toward the play structure. It floated up the climbing chains to the top of the miniature fort, then burst into flames.
"That was dormal," Percy said.
Cressida glanced back at their friends.
Grover had stopped next to a big elm tree. His ear was pressed against the trunk as if he were listening for voices. His nectar droplet had vanished. About fifty yards to his left, Annabeth stood at the first chess table, watching a game. The two old guys were hunched over their board, glowering at the pieces, but neither of them moved a muscle. Annabeth's glowing nectar bubble had also disappeared.
The pit in Cressida's stomach grew. Something was seriously wrong.
"It's like...."
Percy didn't finish his thought but he didn't need to because Cressida already knew what he was going to say. It was like Santa Monica. They were twelve years old and first witnessed the power of Kronos.
"It's similar, yes," said a voice behind them.
Cressida went for her bracelet and Percy went for his pen, but it felt like they were moving through gelatine.
Sitting on the play structure was an old man. . . or rather, what an old man might look like if he was born old and lived another thousand years. He was as small as a first grader, his back curved in the shape of a fishing hook. His skin hung off his bones in sagging brown folds like motheaten curtains. He wore nothing but a loincloth, leaving them with a great view of his bent stick legs, gnarled feet, and concave belly. And his face . . . The man's fleshy nose was webbed with red capillaries . . . the most vibrant color in his whole body. His eyes were milky from cataracts. His mouth looked as if someone had punched in all his teeth with a metal pipe.
"Take a picture," the old man grumbled. "It'll last longer."
Whatever this man had done, it seemed to affect his voice too. He scrounged to yank the tissue plugs out of his nose so he wouldn't suffocate and to help him speak better.
"Cress, breathe," he ordered, not giving a damn about the man. "Cressida, breathe!"
The panic was setting in as her breaths became shorter and tears began to stream down her face and her eyes burst into flames. Grapevines broke free from the earth around the playground, trying to go for the man but they seemed to age, to wither and die before they reached him.
"Hey!" Percy screeched. "We just wanna talk! You gotta let her go! Please!"
The man studied him. "Very well, Percy Jackson. I shall do as you ask," he said before Percy felt the magic holding him fade and he lunged for her.
"Stay with me," he pleaded as he held her torso, the girl sobbing into his shoulder as she clutched him. "Stay with me. I've got you. You're ok. Breathe. Stay with me."
"Staying w-with you," she whimpered as she gripped onto him and tried to control her breathing as Percy's eyes moved from his shaking girlfriend to the man.
"What did you mean by it is similar?" he asked.
"My power," he said. "It's similar to the way Kronos stretches time."
"How did you—"
"Know what you were thinking? Sonny boyo, when you get to be my age, nothing surprises. Besides, as I said, I know who you are, Percy Jackson. I've been watching you. And your girlfriend. Which is why I did as you asked."
"I'm guessing you're Gary?"
"Or Geras, if you prefer." He raised a withered hand to stop follow-up questions. "And, yes, I'm a god. I'll give you a hint of what I'm the god of. From my name, you get the word geriatric."
Percy's mind raced for a second, trying to put the pieces together before he thought about it before Cressida whispered, "He-he's the opposite o-of Hebe."
It clicked.
"Oh," he said. "You're the god of old age."
"Ding, ding." Gary showed off his toothless gums. "Now perhaps you understand why I stole Ganymede's little sippy cup."
He held out his hand. In a flash of light, a ceramic vessel appeared floating above his palm, but it looked more like a flying saucer than a drinking cup. The bowl was wide and shallow with two oversized handles.
"The chalice of the gods," Percy guessed. "So . . . since you're already immortal, would the cup make you younger?" he asked. "Or has it been your lifelong dream to serve drinks?"
"Oh, that's disappointing. . . ." Gary closed his fist and the chalice disappeared. "Perhaps I should have started with Annabeth Chase. I understand she's smart."
"Wait a minute. YOU separated us with the nectar drops," Percy realised as his arms stayed wrapped around Cressida who wiped her face as she continued trying to pull herself together.
Annabeth was still watching the chess match. Grover was still listening to a tree. They didn't look like they were in immediate danger, but they were moving at super-slow speed, like flies in sap that was rapidly hardening to amber.
"What are you doing to us?" Percy demanded. "Picking us off one by one? Afraid to take us all at once?"
Gary snorted. "I could turn all four of you into grave dust with a snap of my fingers. Normally I would, because you're trying to spoil my fun. But since Ganymede sent Percy Jackson after me . . . well, I thought I would give you a chance. I hoped you of all demigods might understand why I took the chalice. If you don't, though, I can just disintegrate you now and move on to your friends. Perhaps they'll do better."
"NO!" Percy yelped, his arm tightening around Cressida whose eyes were still blurry with tears. "I totally get it. Really."
Gary narrowed his eyes. "I don't believe you."
Percy didn't believe himself either and his theatrical girlfriend definitely didn't either, but thankfully, the reason why was painfully obvious even to Percy.
"You're the god of old age. And the cup makes mortals immortal."
Gary smirked and nodded for him to go on.
"Which keeps people from aging. And you don't like that."
"I hate that," he snarled.
"Right. Because people are supposed to get old. Not promoted to godhood like..." Percy trailed off as he thought about the punishments Ganymede would have to endure if it was discovered that he lost the chalice. "You want to humiliate Ganymede to make an example. You figured I would understand because I once turned down immortality."
Gary bowed. "Perhaps you are not a total fool after all."
"Thanks," Percy sighed. "My goal for the week was not to be a total fool."
"You never accomplish that goal," Cressida said and Percy rolled his eyes.
"Ganymede has no business being a god!" Gary said. "Any object that grants humans immortality is odious and wrong. You are all meant to wither and die and return to dust. That is your purpose!"
"Yay for purpose."
"You were the first demigod in millennia to turn down immortality," Gary said. "I respect that. You get me."
"This has been a nice bonding experience," Percy said. "I think you've proven your point. Can I have the cup back now?"
Gary glowered. "You can't be serious. Why would you complete this foolish quest? Walk away! Let Ganymede be punished! Let the gods lose their precious chalice so they have one less way to pass on the curse of immortality to others!"
"I totally would. Except, my girlfriend and I need a letter of recommendation for college. And I promised Ganymede and I like to think that I'm a man of my word. Besides, do you really think he is the one to punish? He didn't ask to get kidnapped by Zeus, right?"
"Oh, please!" Gary said. "You think eternal youth and immortality make him the victim here?"
Percy blanched a little. "I mean . . . have you seen the guy? He's a nervous wreck."
Gary folded his withered arms. "I'm disappointed, Percy Jackson. If you insist on helping Ganymede, I suppose I was wrong about you. Grave dust it is."
"Hold on!" Percy squeaked and Cressida coughed. Of course, she picks now to laugh at his Mickey Mouse voice that came out when he was in imminent danger of death. "Look, I get why you're angry. But seeing as we have common ground with the whole mortals shouldn't be gods thing, isn't there some way we can reach a deal?"
Gary studied him. The milky splotches drifted across his eyes like clouds on some alien planet. "Perhaps . . ." His sly tone made Percy sorry he'd asked. "How about I give you one chance to win the cup? You should feel honored, Percy Jackson. In the history of humankind, I have only made this offer to one other hero."
"Hercules," he and Cressida spoke in unison and she frowned at him.
"How'd you know that?" she wondered and he shrugged, only one arm wrapped around her shoulders.
"I don't know. Isn't the answer almost always Hercules?"
"Percy -"
"You must defeat me in wrestling," Gary interrupted. "If you win, I will give you the chalice. If I win . . . you will fulfill your purpose sooner than expected, and I will turn you into a pile of powdered bone. Do we have an agreement?"
"Percy," Cressida started again and she hardly ever called him by his real name. "You can't do this. You won't be able to beat him - even Hercules couldn't beat him. He wrestled Old Age to a standstill and Gereas was forced to call a drew."
That made him nervous but he still found the bravery to ask, "What was his secret?"
"Brute force that you don't have so you can't do this because I have every intention of growing old with you and I can't do that if you get disintegrated for losing a wrestling match against Old Age."
"Are you finished? I'm still waiting for an answer," Gary spoke and Percy glanced at him.
"One second," he said as he raised a finger and turned back to Cressida, his eyes locking with hers. "I have every intention of growing old with you too. Do you trust me?"
Cressida seemed pained, torn between the right answer and the answer that she wanted to give.
"Hey," Percy said as he held her face gently. "Do you trust me?"
She sighed, her eyes still red. "Do you ask stupid questions?"
Percy grinned as he leaned in to kiss her temple. "That's my girl." He turned back to Gary. "I have conditions," he announced.
Gary tilted his wrinkly head. "Medical conditions?"
"No. Conditions for fighting you. First, if I lose, you only kill me. You leave my friends alone."
"Old Age never leaves anyone alone."
"You know what I mean. You don't dust them now. You let them go."
"Acceptable."
"Next..." he faltered for a second.
"Grey area," Cressida coughed into her fist. Percy resisted the urge to go, "Ohh!"
"When you say I have to defeat you, what would that look like? You're a god. I can't kill you," he said, remembering what Cressida always said about the grey area, especially when it came to oaths on the River Styx.
"Obviously, young fool," Gary scoffed. "If you can bend even one of my knees to the ground, I will consider that sufficient. I, on the other hand, will win when I flatten your face against the pavement. That is more than fair."
"That was the first word that came to my mind," he said. "Fair."
"Anything else?"
"Yes," Percy answered instantly as he racked his brain for another demand and the only one that he could think of was that as much as his girlfriend had a wickedly devious mind, right now, they needed a battle strategy, and that meant that he needed the daughter of the goddess of warfare.
"Let my friends go."
"You already asked that," Gary said.
"No. I mean let them go from whatever you're doing to them right now," Percy corrected as he gestured to them.
"I just slowed them down," said Gary. "Old Age does that to everyone."
"I want them here," Percy said. "To say goodbye, if nothing else. Whatever happens to me, I want them to see it."
"This is not a spectator sport," he grumbled, which was the first time anyone had ever said that about wrestling.
"Do you want to fight me or not?" Percy challenged.
"Fine," he grunted and he snapped his bony fingers, Annabeth and Grover both unfreezing. They returned in their direction and removed their Kleenex from their noses and ran towards them.
Annabeth drew her knife and Grover was wielding a black-sesame mochi donut like a shuriken.
"What's going on?" Grover demanded, hefting his pastry like he was ready to go full donut assassin.
Annabeth sized up Gary, then cursed under her breath. "Geras, I presume? I should have known we were fighting Old Age."
Gary chuckled. "And I should have spoken to you first, young lady. You're clearly the brains of this operation."
"It's cool," Percy told them. "We've come to an agreement."
Annabeth scowled at the god. "Let me guess. A wrestling match? How could you let him do that?!" Annabeth snapped at Cressida.
"I'm sorry, do you see another way to get the chalice?" she returned.
"Hercules wrestled Old Age -"
"To a standstill. Yeah, I know. Cress already told me," Percy filled in.
"And you're still doing this?!" Annabeth exclaimed.
"Hey, this isn't something that I want to do! But better me than one of you guys. And your mom told me at the Hoover Dam that there's always a way out-"
"For those clever enough to find it," she said. "Yeah, I know. But this . . . Geras is a force of nature. He's inevitable. You can't fight Old Age."
Unless you're immortal, Percy thought.
But that was exactly why Geras had stolen the chalice. It let you cheat the system. And he wasn't wrong about immortality being a curse. The gods were the most messed-up people ever. They'd had centuries to work out their problems. They just didn't. Sure, they changed their clothes and modernized their lifestyles once in a while, but at heart, they were still exactly who they had been back in the Bronze Age.
A heavy feeling settled in Percy's gut. . . . he wasn't sure if it was despair, desperation, or donut. Was he on the wrong side of this fight? If he walked away and let Gary keep the chalice, Ganymede might get shamed and exiled from Olympus. Would that be so bad? The gods would have to pour their own drinks. They'd have one less way of making new immortals. Ganymede could get a job at Himbo Juice. Maybe Gary would even write them a recommendation letter instead, praising them for embracing their inner cranky old man.
But Ganymede had chosen him for this quest. Putting aside the fact that every god chose Percy for every quest, he felt obligated to keep his promise. He remembered how nervous the poor cupbearer had looked at Himbo Juice; the way he'd ducked under the table when he thought the golden-eagle-flavored smoothie of Zeus might swoop down to get him.
Yes, he was traumatized and miserable. Maybe he would've been better off getting kicked back into the mortal world. But he hadn't asked to be free from Mount Olympus. He'd asked to retrieve the cup. If Percy chose to wreck his life for his own good, without his permission, he wasn't much better than Zeus. Percy believed everyone should have the right to ruin their own life without anyone else ruining it for them.
"I need to do this," Percy said to Annabeth. "I think I can find a way..."
Annabeth studied his face, maybe debating on whether or not she should try to knock some sense into him with her dagger hilt. Finally, she sighed. "It has to be your call. Just . . . don't underestimate him because of how he looks, Percy."
Percy then turned to Cressida, because there was no way that he was going to do this without her ok.
She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. Hard. Any remnants of anxiety vanishing from the both of them.
"You're going to find a way. You are going to live because if you don't so help you, Fish Face -"
He pecked her lips again to cut her off. "Don't think negative, remember?"
"Yeah, but you're fighting a primordial force of nature. This is one of the most Hail Mary Positive Thinking Percy Jackson Plans ever."
Percy took a deep breath. "They haven't failed yet."
He gave a horrified Grover a fist bump before Gary asked, "Are you done with your goodbyes yet?"
"Not goodbyes. Good lucks," Percy corrected as he faced the god. "Let's confirm the rules of engagement. You and I wrestle one-on-one. You push my face to the ground, I lose, get turned to dust, et cetera. I force one of your knees to the pavement, you give me the chalice and leave us in peace. Either way, when this is over, my friends go free."
"That is the deal," Gary agreed. "Although, since you're going to lose, most of those terms are . . . What's the word? Moot."
"You're moot," Percy grumbled because he was deadly with those quick clapbacks.
"Or . . ." Grover said, "you could trade the chalice for these leftover donuts." He flapped the lid of his box, wafting the scent of mochi toward the god. "Then we can all go our separate ways. I still have two more black sesame and a pistachio."
Gary seemed to consider this. In Percy's book, mochi donuts would be pretty close to magic chalices in any post-apocalypse barter system. Grover might actually be onto something. He was about to make his life much easier and also longer. Then Gary shook his head. "We'll stick to the original arrangement."
"Fine," Percy muttered. "When do we start?"
Percy didn't even have time to breathe. Suddenly Gary was on his back and his hands were like steel clamps on Percy's shoulders. His legs were wrapped around Percy's rib cage, his heels digging into him like he was an uncooperative racehorse. Percy's knees buckled. The guy weighed a ton.
Percy threw out his hands to break his fall, his face only inches from the asphalt.
Cressida gasped and took a step forward before Annabeth placed a hand on her shoulder, reminding her that they couldn't interfere.
Gary then leaned down next to Percy's ear and said, "Oh, we can start whenever you like."
********************************
It is safe to say, that Percy was losing his fight against Old Age.
He tried to push against him and force himself upright, but it was like pushing against the roof of a tunnel. So, Percy twisted himself sideways and used Gary's old weight to sling him off his back. Percy was crawling away and gasping for breath, barely getting back to his feet before he was slammed into again. Gary wrapped his arm around Percy's neck, pulling him into a side headlock and forcing his face dangerously close to his armpit. Percy really wished that he kept those menthol tissues in his nose.
"Oh, no," Gary cackled. "You can't run from Old Age."
"Technically not true!" Grover shouted. "Exercises like running can add years to your life!" Gary snarled, "Quiet, satyr. No interference!"
"It's not interference," Annabeth chimed in. "It's commentary! Every wrestling match has commentary."
Percy tried to shuffle sideways but he was held fast. He pushed forward with all his weight, hoping to pull Gary off balance. He was half Percy's size but he didn't budge.
"Going somewhere?" he asked. With his free hand, he punched Percy in the ribs, eliciting an agonising sound.
"Flag on the play!" Grover yelled. "Ten-yard penalty!"
"No body blows!" Annabeth agreed. "That's not wrestling!"
"Shut up!" Gary complained.
"You hit my boyfriend again and I will destroy you!" Cressida bellowed and their distraction managed to divide Gary's attention and allow Percy to twist out of the headlock. He wrapped his arms around Gary's chest and squeezed with all his might; he tugged and pushed but he couldn't budge the guy.
Cressida was right. He didn't have the brute strength to battle Geras -especially not for much longer.
He laughed. "Having fun?"
Percy didn't have the energy to answer. He was busy trying to figure out a trick to beating this guy e—something aside from superstrength, which was a ridiculous power only possessed by ridiculous Hercules, who was ridiculous.
What fought off old age? Antioxidants. Crossword puzzles. Fiber supplements. Percy realised that he was getting delirious from the pain and odours coming from Gary.
Chiron once told him that in life-threatening situations the most important thing was to stay calm. Once you get into fight-or-flight mode, you are too scared to think properly. That will get you killed. Annabeth also preached the same thing.
Unfortunately, Percy was not calm and he could not fight or flee. And he was fresh out of fiber supplements.
Percy tried to reach out for his power as he let loose a primal scream, hoping to summon the power of all the waterlines underneath Manhattan.
Halfway across Washington Square Park, a single manhole cover shot into the air. A geyser sprayed the tops of the trees, and then fizzled out.
"That was impressive," Gary said sarcastically. "Now, shall we end this?"
He plucked Percy off his chest like a tick and threw him across the playground.
"Percy!" Cressida screamed, Annabeth and Grover holding her by the bicep just in case she tried to go after him.
Percy half wondered if this was like the snake people in Greece all over again, where she was able to control people with her voice. He wondered that in her panic, she imbued him with strength, with hope, as she screamed his name because every molecule in his body seemed to be set on fire. Or maybe it was the tone of her voice; the concern and the love in it that made it feel like he was struck with a bolt of lightning (again).
His senses went into overdrive. And instead of slamming into the play structure, he twisted in midair, grabbing one of the bars and swinging around to land on his feet.
His shoulders throbbed and he probably pulled his arms out of their sockets but he hadn't broken his back, or died, so he considered it a win.
Percy staggered forward.
Gary scowled at his friends. "If any of you interfere again, I will declare this match null and void. I will turn all four of you into desiccated husks!"
Cressida's eyes were on fire and Percy had stared into them enough to know that she was raging. Annabeth was directing anger of her own towards Cressida to keep her from jumping into the fray while Grover looked extremely nervous as he gripped her bicep. He didn't know if her powers would work on a god but he didn't want her to take that chance not knowing what the use of that kind of power would do to her.
"Over here, diaper man!" Percy yelled. "I'm your opponent, not her!"
Gary turned, narrowing his eyes. "So you are." Then he charged.
It was more like a determined hobble, but he still tackled Percy and pushed him backward, right into the tetherball pole. He was lucky that the pole kept him upright and gave him some leverage.
Percy locked his hands around Gary's biceps. His arms groaned and his vision dissolved into black and white strobe flashes. He managed to push Gary forward 2 steps, fuelled not by strength but by desperation. It didn't last though.
Gary clamped his bony fingers around his shoulders. Percy screamed as he was pushed back against the tetherball pole and the metal began to bend.
"You have lasted longer than most," the old man conceded. "It was a good try."
Percy groaned in pain, vaguely aware of the saltwater trailing down Cressida's face. He thought about how much pain he'd caused her when he went missing both times. He couldn't even imagine how much pain it would cause her if he died right now - if he broke his promise to never leave her again. He swore that oath on the Styx to her because when they left this life, they were going to do it together when they were old and grey - just like she said.
Hang on.
Some strength came back to his legs. Not much, but he'd take all that he could get.
He was brought back to a memory of something Jason once told him. In a moment of crisis, he'd had a dream that he was an old man, married to his girlfriend, Piper, with a bunch of grandchildren running around. He hadn't taken the dream as an iron-clad glimpse of the future. When it comes to mortal lives, the Fates never hand out money-back guarantees. But he told Percy that wasn't the point. When he'd needed it most, that vision had made him feel like there was a way forward—something to live for and fight for.
Percy dug his fingers into Gary's arms. He grunted in surprise.
Then he was brought to a conversation that he had with Paul a few months ago. He'd been teasing his stepfather about how he was getting more grey hair every year. Paul said, ""Hey, getting older sucks, but it beats the alternative." Percy didn't really get that at the time. Were the only choices really dying or getting old?
When you're a demigod, you worry a lot about staying alive. You hardly ever think about old age. Percy had been so focused on just making it out of high school, becoming an adult . . . but maybe that wasn't the ultimate goal. Getting old might be scary and difficult. It involved things he didn't want to think about, like arthritis and varicose veins and hearing aids. But if you grew older with people you loved, wasn't that better than any other alternative?
He glanced back at the trio watching him - at the strand of grey hair that came loose from Cressida's braid and was blowing around her face. Percy imagined her whole head covered in silver hair and her gorgeous face covered in wrinkles from age, from laughing too hard and smiling too much, ideally from her calling him Fish Face for the fourteen millionth time.
He saw Annabeth as President of the World, with sophisticated grey hairs that matched her eyes. Monuments named after her and her last project being the house that sat next to the beach for Percy and Cressida.
He saw Grover with tufts of white hair coming out of his ears, his back hunched as he leaned on a cane, bleating as he complained about his aching hooves, then maybe taking a nap on a bench in the beachside garden next to the house he shared with Cressida, while Percy sat next to him, resting his aching bones as they watched the waves and smelled the sea air. Aching bones weren't hard for him to imagine. Actually, the rest wasn't hard to imagine, either.
Gary expected Percy to wrestle him. And unless she died young, he couldn't beat Old Age. But what if he embraced him?
It was a ridiculous idea and something a million times more desperate than a Hail Mary plan. Stop fighting and just hug it out with Geriatric Gary?
Percy's knees started wobbling again. He had maybe a few seconds before he was crushed against the tetherball pole.
So, Percy loosened his grip and wrapped his arms around the god. And he was sure that if he lived through this, his girlfriend was gonna give him hell for what was probably the dumbest last words ever. He was actually looking forward to it.
He said, "I love you, bro."
********************************
Gary froze.
Percy hugged him so hard he hiccupped.
"What's going on?" His voice quivered as he loosened his grip on Percy's shoulders. He was so surprised that Percy could have pushed him down on one knee, but he was reminded of Cressida's words in the library. Of being the Fish Face she fell in love with. And he knew that it was the wrong move. So he just kept hugging the god.
As Percy hugged him, he imagined he was hugging the grandparents he never knew, his mother's mum and dad. That he was embracing the idea of growing older and looking back on a great life. He was holding hands with Cressida, both of them old and frail, and looking into her indigo eyes that were still as bright as the day he met her, as the day he fell in love with her. Laughing with Annabeth around a dinner table. Ruffling Grover's grey hair when he fell asleep on the garden chair eating Cressida's crapes.
Percy embraced Old Age like an old friend.
A very old, past-his-expiration-date friend. It was better than the alternative. Living fast, dying young, and leaving a good-looking corpse is a cool-sounding philosophy—until it's your corpse people are talking about.
Gary pushed Percy against the tether ball pole again but his heart wasn't in it. He relaxed. He patted Percy on his back and put his head on his shoulder. He started to tremble and Percy had held his crying girlfriend enough times, and had cried in her arms enough times, to know that the god was crying.
Percy peeked over at his friends. Annabeth and Grover were standing stunned and with their jaws on the floor. Percy was sure that Annabeth knew what he was doing, he could see her brows furrowed together the way they did when she was thinking, but still, it wasn't often that she was rendered speechless, especially by Percy.
As for Cressida, the tears had dried on her face and stopped falling as she gave him a look of nothing but love and pure pride. Making her proud of him made his heart shine, it made him feel like he was worthy of being her boyfriend.
Finally, Gary disentangled himself from the hug. He stepped back and evaluated Percy anew. His eyes swam with reddish-brown tears. His jawline quivered. Percy could tell if Gary wanted to hit him or hug him again.
"Why?" he asked.
"I figured I'll be wrestling with you my whole life," Percy said. "And I'm okay with that. I just wanted you to know." He took a shaky breath. "But if you really feel like the end of my life should be right now, we can keep throwing each other around the playground."
Gary grunted. His expression was a mix of surprise, irritation, and maybe a little respect. "Technically, I was throwing you around," he said. "I was winning."
Percy made the wise decision to stay silent.
"Old Age is never embraced," he muttered. "Do you know the last time I had a hug?" He stared into the sky as if trying to remember. His expression sad and lonely.
"So what now?" Percy asked.
He frowned. "Old Age is patient. I hate that about myself, but I almost never rush to end someone's life. And you're right . . . ending your life now, at age sixteen . . ."
"Seventeen," Percy corrected.
Grover cleared his throat. 'Shut up!' he screamed down their empathy link.
"Seventeen," Gary echoed. The number seemed to taste bitter in his mouth. "No. It isn't right. This isn't your time." He tilted his head, turning his liver spots to the morning sunlight. "You really wouldn't drink from the chalice, would you?"
"Nah," Percy said. "I kinda want to live a whole life, you know? Even the tough stuff. Plus, I've seen what happens to people who are turned into gods." He glanced back at Cressida for the umpteenth time. "Not to mention that I'm not leaving my girl behind."
Her smile reached her eyes as Gary studied Percy and Cressida and their friends.
"Interesting," the god said. "I look forward to wrestling you for many years to come, Percy Jackson. Do not think I will go easy on you, just because you have impressed me now."
"I'll keep exercising," Percy promised. "Do a bunch of crossword puzzles."
Gary curled his lip. "We were having a nice moment. Don't ruin it." He snapped his fingers, and the chalice of the gods appeared, floating and gleaming in the air between us. "Take it," Gary said. "I suppose it should stay on Mount Olympus, among those fools who have already turned their backs on Old Age. You give me hope, Percy Jackson, that not everyone is like them." He sniffed before grumbling, "Crossword puzzles . . ."
Then he poofed into a grey cloud of talcum powder.
Percy managed to catch the chalice before it hit the pavement. It didn't do wonders for his aching arms. "Ow!"
"You did it!" Grover did a little goat dance of relief. "Hugging him? That was really risky!"
"It was perfect," Annabeth declared as Cressida ran to close the distance between them.
When she kissed him, all the pain was worth it even as it faded away. "Thank you for not growing old and grey without me."
"Never separated again, Crazy Girl," he panted, his face even more flushed. "So, you think we can send Ganymede an Iris Message? I don't want to keep this in my locker until Sunday."
Annabeth looked like she was about to say something, but just then, a Hula-Hoop fell out of the sky. It was pink with blue stripes and sparkles baked into the plastic. It hit the pavement with a jolly rattling whack, bounced twenty feet into the air, then came down again and rolled across the playground, wobbling to a stop like a flipped coin.
Annabeth walked over to the hoop. She nudged it. When it did not explode or turn into a monster, she picked it up. She looked at the clouds, but no other objects fell from the sky. "This is a symbol of Ganymede," she said.
"The Hula-Hoop?" Grover asked.
"Well . . . the hoop. It's been a kids' toy for thousands of years. It's a symbol of his eternal youth."
Percy shuddered. "Yeah, that doesn't make Zeus's abduction of him one bit less creepy. And you think what, Ganymede tossed the hoop off Mount Olympus?"
Annabeth examined the hoop more closely. "Hold on." She found a section of paper wrapped around one part of the hoop. Annabeth peeled it off and started to read. "It's a distress call," she announced. "Ganymede says he's stuck on Olympus, and he needs the cup immediately. He says . . ." Her face fell. "Oh, gods. Zeus isn't waiting for Sunday to have a feast."
"So . . . what, he's having one tonight?" Percy asked.
"Worse than that," Annabeth said. "Zeus is having his mom over for a family get-together right now. They're having brunch."
Percy gulped nervously as he hefted the chalice. "I don't suppose we can send this Hermes Express?"
Annabeth frowned. "Percy..."
"Don't they have one-hour delivery in Manhattan?"
"Ganymede needs it now. And you have to bring it. It's -"
"My job," Percy sighed as he finished Annabeth's sentence.
"Actually, it's mine," Cressida grinned as she turned to her boyfriend. "You got the chalice, now it's my turn to get it to Olympus."
"And how do you plan to get the chalice and the two of you past the security guard and into Zeus's private palace?" Annabeth questioned and Cressida's smirk only grew.
"Please. I go to Olympus so much, I have a 4-star, platinum membership card."
"Olympus has a membership program?" Grover asked.
"Of course they do. It's how my father plans who to invite to his epic parties on Olympus. No entry without a membership card."
"How did I not know about this?" Percy asked.
"Because my father may like you, but not enough to give you one of these yet. Now come on, we've gotta go."
They bid their friends farewell before Cressida grabbed Percy's hand and they headed for the Empire State Building.