"𝚟𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚗" | 𝚙. 𝚓𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗, 𝚊𝚌𝚝 𝚘𝚗𝚎

They Get Featured In the Newspaper as Known Fugitives

AND

A God Buys Them Cheeseburgers

third person omniscient

-

THERE'S A POETIC thing about falling to death. Well, in Estella's short life, she found that she could find poetry in most anything. That was something she knew about herself. She was unsure if she liked that about herself- she was unsure about herself completely.

But falling to death implied that you were so high up that it was impossible to get back up. An autumn leaf that was once green. A podium so tall that toppling meant death. It suited her, she thought, or maybe not.

What it felt like? Hardly like dying. It felt more of solemn acknowledgement that she was eventually going to stop flying, that she was going to hit rock bottom. For now, she felt like a sky-child, like the freedom of the air appealed to her even when she knew it would be her undoing. But she came to her senses. She was not a sky-child.

For a moment, the whistling in the air and the skyscrapers that sped past her vision slowed, she thought that this was her wasteful end. Nothing to leave, nothing to lose. Her whole life, she feared the bitterness of having less than what was demanded. To be an autumn picker content with plums. Now she would be less. She didn't have enough.

The harsh voice of her father sounded in her ear. To be something great, to take more than what she was handed. He was a smart man. He lived a decent life. He had had a successful career. Now, she was to be better. That was never going to happen. But she became self-conscious, a little self-aware. She worried about her father being disappointed at her. Not her death, just her.

She remembered watching the news with her father, her six-year old self looking at the flashing box with an expression of apathy.

"Those people," her father pointed at reports of suicide as it cut to a choppy, grainy video feed of a 15 year old girl falling as people screamed and pleaded, "aren't clever enough to survive. They had their chance. You have yours. Make the most of it."

"Okay." She watched as it flipped to a news anchor with a grim expression pulling up a less-than-cheerful statistic. He clearly didn't want the job. She wondered what was going on in the lives of others, especially in the life of that girl.

It was a little funny. Here she was, blowing her chance.

She was only dimly aware of Percy positioning himself so he would hit the water first.

He was scared. His face torn into an expression of terror that matched his emotions hurtling down with them. It was strange seeing courageous Percy that way, fearful in a way that was obvious. Sometimes he hid it better than she did.

She could see the water churning below, hurtling towards her with the promise of swift death. Now, she could see beauty in drowning. It was nearly a shame she would die on impact. They hit the river in a whiteout of bubbles.

Turns out, she didn't die on impact. Another thing, Percy had let go of her and had been lost in a swirl of silt and disgusting garbage. Stelle struggled to straighten herself, find her bearings, survive. She sank thigh deep in mud and trash.

How does it feel to drown? Until now, it was on of those things she saw on TV, lifeguards valiantly jumping into dark pools of water to save children, crappy sitcoms where the main character gets bullied, and the occasional caught-at-sea news. It was things she would look at in passing, shrug, and move on.

To actually drown? Putting it plainly, it felt like dying. Her mind told her body to hold her breath for as long as possible, so she prayed that she made it up to air in time. She thrashed, trying to unstick herself from the earth that kept her down. She had about 50 seconds, she guessed. She was never a strong swimmer. It felt like she was trapped for an hour.

Her excessive movement made her lose oxygen quicker. Logic screamed for her not to breathe it in, but every fiber of her being needed air; it was a war quickly won. Water tore down her lungs and burned her chest. It hurt, like a thousand fire ants swarming her insides. Another involuntary breath. She would've screamed if her body allowed it.

Why did it try to become something it wasn't? Water could never replace the air that pumped through her, so why did it try? To prove itself, maybe. Like shoving a square peg into a round hole. It would work with force, but it would destroy them both.

She was so close. The mud sucked her legs in, refusing to let go of what they had ahold of. Her mind blanked out, her arms feeling heavy. They wouldn't listen to her. Why wouldn't they listen? A huge catfish drifted past her, leisurely riding the current.

Stelle grabbed one of her legs, pulling. She felt nauseous and black spots danced in her vision. A rush of urgency rushed through her as she pulled a foot free, but it faded just as quickly. The next leg came quicker.

She swam up, kicking her feet. A wave of calm washed over her, as she blankly noted the lack of oxygen going to her brain. It was hard to think. She wondered if she would die in the water, never to be found, swallowed by the Mississippi.

Stelle wondered if she would never break the surface, and be held in the currents of the river. That suited her better. Too tenacious to let go. Holding something so long it decayed. Keeping it so long that it was just a memory. The sky got closer.

What a stupid idea, to have one's life flash before their eyes. It was an idea out of a movie, for crappy character development, to muster up some sympathy for a cutout character. It was clear why she thought so. There was a strangeness to feeling it that was difficult to put into words.

It was almost welcome. It distracted her from the fear of death. One billion memories and images all crammed into one millisecond. It was over, wasn't it? This was it? Percy. Where was Percy? She wanted to see him. She wanted-

Finally, with a gasp, she surged up and met air. Stelle coughed and sputtered, and there was Percy, dumbfounded look on his face, sword in hand.

"Stelle- c'mon, let's get to shore..."

It was a struggle, and she was sure she wouldn't have made it without him. As soon as she heaved herself onto land, she retched up all the river water she had taken in. She felt the cool air sliding into her chest. Percy knelt beside her, patting her back with a concerned expression.

"Listen, I'm sorry- what happened?"

She heaved, mustering the strength to speak. Her voice was hoarse and weak, "Never again."

"Yes ma'am." he murmured. He didn't plan on it, anyway.

A block away, every emergency vehicle in St. Louis was surrounding the Arch. Police helicopters circled overhead. The crowd of onlookers reminded her of Times Square on New Year's Eve. 

A little girl said, "Mama! A girl and a boy just walked out of the river."

"That's nice, dear." her mother said, craning her neck to watch the ambulances. 

"But the boy's dry!"

"That's nice, dear."

"The girl looks sick, she needs help!"

"That's nice, dear."

A news lady was talking for the camera: "Probably not a terrorist attack, we're told, but it's still very early in the investigation. The damage, as you can see, is very serious. We're trying to get to some of the survivors, to question them about eyewitness reports of two people falling from the Arch."

Survivors. Percy felt a surge of relief. Maybe the park ranger and that family made it out safely. He hoped Annabeth and Grover were okay. But right now...

He looked over at Stelle, who was coughing violently and shivering. Percy looked around for something to cover her with. He found nothing. "Wait here."

'Where else was she going to go?' she thought hazily.

He tried to push through the crowd to see what was going on inside the police line. 

"...an adolescent boy and girl," another reporter was saying, "Channel Five has learned that surveillance cameras show an adolescent boy and girl going wild on the observation deck, somehow setting off this freak explosion. Hard to believe, John, but that's what we're hearing. Again, no confirmed fatalities..."

He backed away, trying to keep his head down. Percy had to go a long way around the police perimeter. Uniformed officers and news reporters were everywhere.

He'd almost lost hope of ever finding Annabeth and Grover when a familiar voice bleated, "Perrr-cy!"

He turned and got tackled by Grover's bear hug- or goat hug. He said, "We thought you'd gone to Hades the hard way!"

Annabeth stood behind him, trying to look angry, but even she seemed relieved to see him. "We can't leave you alone for five minutes! What happened? No, where's Estella?!"

"C'mon- Grover, I need your sweater-" Percy muttered, ushering them around the crowd and towards the soaking girl. "We sort of fell."

"Percy! Six hundred and thirty feet?!"

Behind them, a cop shouted, "Gangway!" The crowd parted, and a couple of paramedics hustled out, rolling a woman on a stretcher. He recognized her immediately as the mother of the little boy who'd been on the observation deck. She was saying, "And then this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua-"

"Okay, ma'am." the paramedic said, "Just calm down. Your family is fine. The medication is just starting to kick in."

"I'm not crazy! These kids jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared." Then she saw him. "There he is! That's the boy!"

Percy turned quickly and pulled Annabeth and Grover after him. They disappeared into the crowd and broke out to the shore. Stelle sat, hugging herself. They couldn't quite tell if the stains on her pale face were tears or water.

Annabeth snatched Grover's sweater right off the boy, wrapping it around the girl. "Hey, hey... are you alright?" She muttered something about bad planning and killing Percy, which he wasn't exactly excited about.

Stelle couldn't bring herself to nod an affirmative yes, but unwilling to say she wasn't alright. She opened her mouth, but no noise came out. Annabeth seemed to understand.

"What's going on?" Annabeth demanded. "Was she talking about the Chihuahua on the elevator?"

Percy told them the whole story of the Chimera, Echidna, their high-dive act, and the underwater lady's message about going to Santa Monica and cryptically disappearing without another word.

"Woah," said Grover, "We've got to get you to Santa Monica! You can't ignore summons from your dad!" 

Wordlessly, Stelle rose shakily. She was afraid to be sent into another coughing fit if she spoke. She rose a trembling finger in the general idea of 'let's get going'. Annabeth supported her on one side, putting her arm around her neck. Percy mirrored her on the other.

Before Annabeth could respond, they passed another reporter doing a news break, and he almost froze in my tracks when he said, "Percy Jackson. That's right, Dan. Channel Twelve has learned that the boy who may have caused this explosion fits the description of a young man wanted by authorities for a serious New Jersey bus accident three days ago. And the boy is believed to be traveling west. For our viewers at home, here is a photo of Percy Jackson."

They ducked around the news van and slipped into an alley. 

"We've gotta get out of here." Percy told them.

Somehow, the group made it back to the Amtrak station without getting spotted. They got on board the train just before it pulled out for Denver. The train trundled west as darkness fell, police lights still pulsing against the St. Louis skyline behind them. 

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, their train rolled into Denver. They hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. None of them had taken a shower since Medusa's gnome emporium, and Percy was sure that was obvious. 

Stelle had dried off, but came off with a cough that she mostly kept in check. It was pretty depressing to see her look so weak after a fit, which didn't help the morale at all.

"Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said, "I want to tell him about Percy's talk with the river spirit."

"We can't use phones." Stelle reminded, looking outside.

"I'm not talking about phones."

They wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though the pair wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere they turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at him, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city. 

Finally she found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. They veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping their eyes open for patrol cars. They were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure they were up to no good. 

"What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun. 

"It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled, "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?" 

"Don't look at me." she said, "The dining car wiped me out."

"I've got nothing." Stelle said, shaking her head and tightening her grip on her duffel. They all looked at Percy, who sighed and fished out his last bit of change. He gave Grover a quarter, which left him with two nickels and a drachma.

"Excellent," Grover said, "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping."

"What are you talking about?" Percy said, completely lost.

He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing." 

"Instant messaging..?" Stelle asked.

"Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods."

"You summon the goddess with a spray gun?"

Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. 

Annabeth held her palm out to Percy. "Drachma." 

He handed it over.

She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering."

She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer. 

"Half-Blood Hill." Annabeth requested.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then he was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. They seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow. 

"Luke? Where's Chiron?" Stelle said in mild surprise.

He turned, eyes wide. She could swear he was standing three feet in front of her through a screen of mist, except she could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow. 

"Estella! Percy!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?"

"We're... uh... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty t-shirt, trying to brush the unkempt hair out of her face. "We thought- Chiron- I mean-"

"He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?"

"I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?"

Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement. 

"Chiron had to- what's that noise?" Luke yelled. 

"I'll take care of it." Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on!"

"What?" Grover said. "But-" 

"Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered. 

Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed Percy the spray gun and followed Annabeth. 

He readjusted the hose so he could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke. 

"Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, guys. Word leaked out about the Zeus-Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how- probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus."

That made Stelle's neck prickle. Why did his voice sound so... uncanny? She was losing her judgement, she thought forlornly, she just couldn't put her finger on it. All this godly bullshit was smoking her brain of everything she knew.

Percy shuddered to think that Clarisse's cabin would ever be on his dad's side for anything. In the next stall, Stelle heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically. 

"So what's your status?" Luke asked them. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you guys."

Percy told him pretty much everything, including his dreams. It felt so good to see him, to feel like he was back at camp even for a few minutes, that he didn't realize how long he had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and Stelle told him he only had one more minute before the water shut off. 

"I wish I could be there," Luke told them, "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen... it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him."

"But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly." Stelle refuted. "Who would be his hero? He doesn't have kids."

"That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still, Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible."

They were all silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said. 

"Oh, hey," he protested, "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never... I mean, she's like a little sister to me."

Stelle snorted and wondered if Annabeth would like that description. In the stall next to them, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash. 

"What did they do?" she sighed heavily, still unmoving. She didn't feel like checking. Annabeth couldn't have done anything too stupid.

"You'd better go see what that was." Luke said, "Listen, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'd feel better if I know they've done you some good."

"Oh, uh yeah-!" Percy stammered, trying not to sound like a guilty liar, "They've come in handy, like, tons-"

"Great. Oh, by the way, Stelle?"

"Uh, yeah?"

"Make sure to come back in one piece. I really can't handle Ethan being anymore moody than he is, with all the trouble with the campers. What did you even do to get him to-" he ran a hand through his sandy hair.

Percy narrowed his eyes and scowled.

The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate.

"Well, never mind. Take care of yourself in Denver!" Luke said, his voice getting fainter, "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just-"

But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. They were alone in a wet, empty car wash stall. 

"Well." Stelle scratched her nape, "That was something."

"Seriously, what did you say to that Nakamura guy to like you that much?" Percy scoffed, dropping the hose unceremoniously.

She didn't know either.

Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw his face. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened? What did Luke say?"

"Not much." Percy lied, his stomach feeling as empty as a Big Three Cabin. "C'mon, let's find some dinner."

A few minutes later, they were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around them, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. 

Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?" 

Percy said, "We, um, want to order dinner." 

"You kids have money to pay for it?"

Grover's lower lip quivered. Percy was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger. Stelle just seemed... tired. Percy looked at her pleadingly.

The girl began to speak in order to spin a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb. 

All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather- but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin. 

The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face he'd ever seen- handsome, he guessed, but wicked- with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, Percy felt like he'd seen his face somewhere before. 

As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?"

Stelle clammed up, too stunned to speak. It must've been a god. He must be a god.

The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into their booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window.

He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?"

He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen. 

The biker looked at him. He couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades, but bad feelings started boiling in Percy's stomach. Anger, resentment, bitterness. He wanted to hit a wall. He wanted to pick a fight with somebody. Who did this guy think he was? 

He gave him a wicked grin. "So you're old Seaweed's kid." 

He should've been surprised, or scared, but instead he felt like he was looking at his stepdad, Gabe. He wanted to rip this guy's head off. "What's it to you?"

Stelle's eyes flashed him a warning, "Percy-"

The biker raised his hand. 

"S'okay. I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's boss. Do know who I am, little cousin?"

Then it struck Percy why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five. 

"You're Clarisse's dad," he said, "Ares, god of war."

Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I hear you broke Clarisse's spear."

"She was asking for it."

Stelle facepalmed. Percy needed a filter for his thoughts, and a second one for his mouth.

"Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for- I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you."

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food- cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. 

Ares handed her a few golden drachmas.

She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..." 

Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?"

The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold. 

"You can't do that," Percy told Ares, "You can't just threaten people with a knife."

He looked around for support, but the best he could describe Stelle's expression as was unbothered but wary. Grover was cowering and nibbling on an onion ring. Annabeth looked tense, but out of nerves. They didn't seem to be feeling the same anger he was.

Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition. I need you to do me a favor."

"What favor could I do for a god?"

"Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me."

"Why don't you go back and get it yourself?" Percy shot.

The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter. 

"Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you."

Percy wanted to punch this guy, but somehow, he knew he was waiting for that. Ares's power was causing his anger. He'd love it if he attacked. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction. 

"We're not interested." He exhaled, trying to rid himself of the rage building up inside him, "We've already got a quest."

Ares's fiery eyes made Percy see things he didn't want to see- blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest. When the item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..."

He licked his lips, as if the very though of the lightning bolt made him hungry. "Well ... if I couldn't find it, you've got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath."

"You told him Hades stole the bolt?" Stelle asked, as Ares switched his attention over to her.

"Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest."

She decided not to thank him.

"Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends. Here, a small bonus that might be a little more persuasive- I'll cash in a favor from Apollo and heal your little friend up. All that damage from the water, poof. Personally, it was your fault. You don't wanna live with that, do you?" he jerked his head in the green-eyed boy's direction.

Percy hesitated.

"Come on, it's not a hard decision. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom. All that is more than enough."

"My... mom?"

He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

Stelle looked aghast. She wouldn't be caught dead in ride named 'Tunnel of Love'. But... she supposed, with all the benefits, how could Percy refuse?

"What interrupted your date?" Percy asked. "Something scare you off?"

Ares bared his teeth, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous. 

"You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not so forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me. See you, kid." Ares ruffled Stelle's hair with a heavy hand.

"Hey-!" She said, instinctively reaching up to fix it.

After that they must have fainted, or fallen into a trance, because when they opened their eyes again, Ares was gone. He might've thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth and Grover's expressions, along with Stelle's messed-up hair told him otherwise. Another thing- the duffel bag was gone.

"What the hell? Did we just get robbed by a god?" she said under her breath.

"Not good, Percy," Grover fretted, "This is not good. Ares sought you out."

Percy stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared. 

Did Ares really know something about his mom, or was he just playing with him? Now that he was gone, all the anger had drained out of him. He realized Ares must love to mess with people's emotions. That was his power- cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think. 

"It's probably some kind of trick." Percy said, "Let's go."

"We can't." Annabeth said, "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent."

Percy looked down at his cheeseburger, which suddenly didn't seem so appetizing. "Why does he need us?"

"Maybe it's a problem that requires brains." Annabeth said, "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

"But this water park... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Stelle mused, drumming her fingers on the table.

Annabeth and Grover glanced nervously at each other. 

Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out."

The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time they found the decrepit water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D (but maybe Percy's dyslexia just screwed him over).

The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy. 

"If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," Percy said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like."

"Probably like the most beautiful person you've ever seen." Stelle muttered, pulling at the padlock experimentally.

He scoffed, "I seriously doubt that."

"Percy," Annabeth warned, "Be more respectful."

"Why? I thought you hated Ares."

"He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental."

"You don't want to insult her looks." Grover added.

"Who is she? Echidna?" Percy joked, earning sour looks from the rest of the group.

"No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily, "Goddess of love."

"I thought she was married to somebody." he said, "Hephaestus."

"What's your point?" Grover asked.

"Oh." Percy suddenly felt the need to change the subject. Being around Stelle for a while, along with being taught never to cheat by his mom, it was a little uncomfortable to be talking about that stuff. "So how do we get in?"

"Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings.

He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?" 

Annabeth, Percy, and Stelle had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as they crawled over the top. 

The shadows grew long as they walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? None of these compelled Stelle to ride them.

No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise. 

"It looks like a horror game. Grover, watch out, there's something in the slide you're standing next to." Stelle deadpanned.

"Stop!" Grover moaned nervously.

They found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of-

"Clothes," Annabeth said, "Fresh clothes."

"Yeah," Percy said, "But you can't just-"

"Watch me."

She snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and disappeared into the changing room. A few minutes later she came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over her shoulder, obviously stuffed with more goodies. 

"Is it stealing if you get caught?" Stelle asked, lips quirking upwards.

"What the hell." Grover shrugged. Soon, all four of them were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park.

They continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. He got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath. "So Ares and Aphrodite," he said, to keep his mind off the growing dark, "they have a thing going?"

"That's old gossip, Percy." Stelle frowned, "Three thousand year-old gossip. If you want real gossip, remember Daniel H?"

"...the annoying one?"

"He spat in Janice R's face after calling her a whore-" She began, getting cut off by Percy who grew uncomfortable with the topic again.

"So... Aphrodite's husband? What about him?" He said eagerly ignoring Stelle.

"Well, you know," Annabeth said, "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?"

"She likes bikers."

"Whatever."

"Hephaestus knows?"

"Oh sure," she said nonchalantly, "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..."

"That?" Stelle gestured. They all stopped, looking straight ahead.

In front of them was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl. 

Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE! 

Grover crept towards the ledge. "Guys, look."

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze. 

"This is too easy." Percy said, "We just go down there and grab it?"

"Were you expecting a trial of fire to the death?" Stelle said, leaning over.

Percy didn't respond.

Annabeth ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue. 

"There's a Greek letter carved here." she murmured, "Eta. I wonder..."

"Grover," he said, "You smell any monsters?"

He sniffed the wind. "Nothing."

"Nothing, like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?"

Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground!"

"Okay, I'm sorry." he took a deep breath, "I'm going in." 

"I'll go with you." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but Percy got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis. 

"No," he told him, "I want you to stay up there with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong."

Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?"

"I don't know. Just a feeling. Stelle, Annabeth-"

"Are you kidding?" She looked at him as if he'd just dropped from the moon. Annabeth stared incredulously, hinted with a little disgust.

"What's the problem now?" he demanded.

"Me, go with you to the... Thrill Ride of Love? How embarrassing is that? What if somebody saw me? It's embarrassing enough to make Stelle go. I'm staying. Have fun."

Stelle shook her head, putting her hair up with a Waterland hair tie. "It is embarrassing. But I kind of wanna get out of here with this idiot alive." Her ears, which were normally covered by her hair,  were bright pink.

"How are we even gonna have fun?" But his face was burning now, too. Leave it to a girl to make everything complicated. "Fine. Let's go." He started down the side of the pool, Stelle following with a resolute look of neutrality. She was determined to make it through the quest with her dignity (somewhat) intact.

They reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. Percy tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride. Why?

Then he noticed something he hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing that spot. They could see themselves no matter which direction they looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves. 

Stelle peered into one of the grimy mirrors and fixed her hair. Percy couldn't spot anything wrong with it, but the girl seemed to find a miniscule mistake and pat it down.

He picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable- rose, or mountain laurel. Something good. He smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek when he felt someone staring. He looked up to see Stelle with wide eyes and a ghost of an amused smile. He could almost see the cogs in her head turning.

"Alright, give it here." She ripped it away from him and stuffed it in her pocket before he could refuse. "Let's not get weird now, shall we?"

"What?" When the scarf left his hands, he grew embarrassed.

"Get the shield, chouchou, before I decide to make fun of you."

The moment he touched the shield, they knew they were in trouble. Percy's hand broke through something that had been connecting it to the dashboard, placed so well that Stelle didn't catch it until it glinted. A cobweb, Percy thought, but then he looked at a strand of it on his palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. A trip wire. 

"Crap." she said.

"My thoughts exactly."

"There's another Eta on the side of this boat. Eta, Eta, Eta..." Stelle racked her brain. "Isn't that 'H'?"

Noise erupted all around them, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine. 

Grover yelled, "Guys!"

Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before Percy could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at them. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net. 

"We have to get out." Percy said.

"No, I'm comfortable here, thanks. Of course we have to get out!"

Percy grabbed the shield and they ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down.

"Come on!" Annabeth shouted. 

They were trying to hold open a section of the net for them, but wherever they touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around their hands. 

The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding them with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight..."

"Hephaestus?" Stelle asked in a panicked voice.

"Hephaestus!" Annabeth agreed, just as panicked.

They'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic... things poured out. 

Annabeth screamed.

It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward them in a wave of clacking, whirring metal. 

"Fucking pests-!" Stelle swore, letting go. She swat a couple away, groaning as one nearly got her.

"Spiders!" Annabeth said, "Sp- sp- aaaah!" She fell backwards in terror, petrified.

"You're not even the one in here!" she complained. Stelle took Percy by the wrist and dragged him back to the boat.

The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding them. Stelle told herself they probably weren't programmed to kill, just corral them and bite them and make them look stupid. Then again, this was a trap meant for gods. And they weren't gods. 

They kicked away spiders as they approached the boat, circling back to back.

"Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker.

The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie them down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming. Percy kicked one away from Stelle's leg and its pincers took a chunk out of his new surf shoe. 

"Oh." she said, her voice appalled. "Is that really a trap made for his wife?"

"Very-!" Percy grunted, kicking a few more away. "Healthy relationship!"

Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge. 

"Think." Stelle said, feeling a spider stop struggling under her feet. Think.

The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. They could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by literally a million robot spiders. 

"Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker said.

'Water,' she thought. 'Where does the ride's water come from?'

Then she saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller's station. 

"Percy- pipes, control booth, water, spider, entrance." she listed, hoping he caught on fast enough.

He nodded, realization striking his face. He surveyed the area, looking for the booth she was talking about. "Grover!" he yelled, "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!"

"But-"

"Do it!" It was a crazy hope, but it was their only chance. The spiders were all over the prow of the boat now. Annabeth was screaming her head off and not helping matters. They had to get out of there. 

Grover was in the controller's booth now, slamming away at the buttons. 

"Five, four-"

Grover looked up at them hopelessly, raising his hands. He was letting them know that he'd pushed every button, but still nothing was happening. 

"Percy!" Stelle's voice edged on desperate.

He closed his eyes and thought about waves, rushing water, the Mississippi River. He felt a familiar tug in his gut. He tried to imagine that he was dragging the ocean all the way to Denver. 

"Two, one, zero-"

Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. Percy pulled Stelle into the seat next to him and fastened his own seat belt as she rushed to do hers just as the tidal wave slammed into their boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing them completely, but not capsizing them. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool. 

The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst. 

Spotlights glared down at them. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus. 

But Percy could only concentrate on controlling the boat. He willed it to ride the current, to keep away from the wall. Maybe it was his imagination, but the boat seemed to respond. At least, it didn't break into a million pieces. They spun around one last time, the water level now almost high enough to shred them against the metal net. Then the boat's nose turned toward the tunnel and they rocketed through into the darkness. 

Stelle and Percy held tight, the boy screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff. Stelle had an exhilarated look on her face. He wished he could be having as much fun as her.

Then they were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through their hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit. 

"Problem!" Percy yelled, "There's a small problem!"

If the ride had been in working order, they would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But life couldn't go their way. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade- one submerged, the other cracked in half. 

"Time to die, I guess?" Stelle yelled, suddenly serious again.

"Gods, couldn't you be a little more optimistic?!"

"Jumping time, then?" she asked over the rushing water.

"Unless you want to get smashed to death, yeah." Percy strapped Ares's shield to my arm. "We're going to have to jump for it." His idea was simple and insane. As the boat struck like a springboard to jump the gate. He'd heard of people surviving car crashes that way, getting thrown thirty or forty feet away from an accident. With luck, they would land in the pool. 

Stelle understood. She gripped his hand as the gates got closer. "Don't let this be the way I die, please, anybody who's listening, not with this guy-"

"You're so rude?!" He exclaimed. "Whatever! On my mark!"

"No, on my mark!"

"You hate me right now. Fine! Don't get us killed!"

Stelle waited a little, waited a little more... then said, "Now!"

She was right. If they'd jumped when he thought they should've, they would've crashed into the gates. Unfortunately, they got a little more lift than they needed. Their boat smashed into the pileup and they were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, over the pool, and down toward solid asphalt.

(They both sucked at rhythm games.) 

Something grabbed them from behind. 

"Oomph-!" Stelle said.

Grover.

In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and Stelle by the arm, and was trying to pull them out of a crash landing, but they had all the momentum. 

"You're too heavy!" Grover said, "We're going down!"

They spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall. 

Percy and Grover smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Annabeth had appeared, catching Stelle bridal-style, stumbling back from the force. The green-eyed boy tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive. Ares's shield was still on his arm. 

"You just..." Percy panted, "couldn't catch anyone else."

"Sorry." Annabeth said unapologetically.

Once they caught their breath, the group got Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him. Stelle looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Their boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates.

A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on them, the spotlights in their faces. 

"Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!"

The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. He wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if their ratings had been any good. 

Percy hated being teased. He hated being tricked. And he had plenty of experience handling bullies who liked to do that stuff to them. He hefted the shield on his arm and turned to his friends. "We need to have a little talk with Ares."