CHAPTER TEN
I Ruin A Perfectly Good Bus
I don't own Percy Jackson.
NOTE: Do you guys prefer the cover I have up now, or this one? My new one gives me more fantasy-fanfic vibes and isn't hard to make. I just feel like my old one is kind of boring.
It didn't take Percy long to pack.
She didn't have anything to bring. Even with everything she had, minus the Minotaur horn, since she didn't want to accidentally lose it, it barely filled the backpack Grover had found for her. All she ended up bringing was an entrachange of clothes and a toothbrush, though she wondered if she could swing by the cabin she and her mother had abandoned in their haste to get to camp and grab her stuff back, if it was still there.
The camp loaned her a hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. They were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stampd on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. Chironsaid that they would come in handy for non-mortal transactions, whatever that meant, but Percy found herself wondering if, worse came to worse, she could just sell them. Sure, it might've raised some eyebrows about where she got it, and how she got it, but gold was probably pretty valuable, right?
Will, on the other hand, had been given two canteens of nectar and Ziploc bags full of ambrosia squares, to be used in emergencies, of course. Actually, Chiron had given them both one of each, but Will had taken hers as soon as Chironleft, claiming that, as the quest's medic, it'd probably be best if he held onto it.
Chiron seemed a bit relieved when he explained to her how too much of it would make her very, very feverish, or that an overdose would burn her up, literally, probably because he knew that Will was their best shot at keeping that from happening. After all, Percy had known about the mythological world for all of two weeks and Grover had never needed to eat any of that god food, and as Will was one of the best medics at the camp... Well, so long as Percy didn't steal it and start eating the squares as a snack, there was no way she'd manage to kill herself.
Will, on the other hand, had been at camp for four years, and his father never missed giving any one of his kids a present during their birthdays; he had a collection of goodies to choose from, especially with his siblings all offering their own gifts to up his chances of coming back alive. He refused their gifts, though, claiming that, in case he died or lost the item or something, he didn't want to feel responsible for losing it. They had all protested, agreed after a lot of arguing.
In the end, Will decided to bring his magic bow and his magic ukulele, which had been a twelfth-birthday and tenth-birthday present, respectively, from his dad. His bow could turn into a wristwatch when he tapped it and said, "Apollo!" and had a somewhat unlimited stock of arrows, though Percy found the logic behind it confusing when he tried to explain it to her. It had a cooldown period, Will explained, between fights—the more arrows he used, the more cooldown time it needed before all of its arrows were replenished. He could still use it before its cooldown time was completely finished, but it just meant only a part of the arrows were available for use.
What Percy found confusing was that if Apollo was a god, why couldn't he have created a gift that didn't need the cooldown period? Sure, it was already a great gift, and way better than anything she got from her dad as a birthday present (anything could beat nothing... unless it was a bunch of turds or something), but still. Maybe it was because every gift needed weakness or whatever, but why did it even need to come with a weakness? Why couldn't it have just been a nice gift?
His magic ukulele, on the other hand, was a little less magical—it looked like a regular ukulele, but its strings were of Celestial Bronze, whatever that was, and it could literally play emotions. When Will played a sad song, everybody near him wanted to curl up into a ball and... well, bawl. When he played a happy song, people wanted to dance and sing and laugh. It could affect even immortals and monsters, apparently, but Will told Percy that its power was directly related to how many times Will played it. The longer he played it, the more powerful its effects would become.
Annabeth, however, had also offered him a gift, but unlike his siblings, arguing didn't sway her. She just glared at him with those cold, stormy grey eyes as he weakly protested that he didn't want to be responsible for losing her possessions until, at last, after a quarter of an hour of silent glaring, he caved and took her invisibility Yankee's cap. She did, however, threaten to murder him if he lost him, leaving him clutching the hat tightly with white knuckles and wide eyes after she hugged him and tromped away.
When she passed Percy, however, she hesitated; she opened her mouth, like she was going to say something, and then stopped and closed her mouth again. The two girls stared at each other awkwardly, Percy wondering what exactly Annabeth was thinking when the blonde girl shook her head and then ran off, back down the hill, her hair flying in the wind. Percy stared after her, a bit stunned, before shaking her head and marching back up the hill like she had been doing before she stopped.
Will was checking his knife, the one he had gotten from his dad, when she reached him, polishing its blade with his t-shirt. The blade was strange, though. Most of the weapons she had seen had been made from a sort of brownish-metal, possibly copper or bronze, but Will's knife seemed to have been made from silver.
"It's silver," he said when he saw her furrowed eyebrows, like he knew exactly what she was thinking. "I know it's not the standard metal, and not even exactly considered magical, but silver's sacred because it's Artemis' metal, and it's also one of the only known things that can hurt werewolves. Most demigods don't carry silver with them, so if they're caught by werewolves, they're in trouble, but I had Beckendorf work with this until it could hurt both regular monsters and lycanthropes." He grimaced. "The only bad thing about this is that it can also hurt mortals, so I guess I have to be careful about that."
He slipped it into its belted pouch, right next to his quiver, which meant that he had to reach over his shoulder to draw his knife, which Percy found strange. Was it a good move, having to expose your chest like that, just to get to your weapon? It didn't make much sense to her, especially when she was sure Will must've known that, both as an experienced warrior and healer, but she didn't say anything. Will probably knew more than her. Though it didn't keep her from wondering.
Grover, on the other hand, was wearing his fake feet and pants to pass as human, of course, and a green cap to hide his horns in case it rained. Unlike Will and Percy, he brought mostly scrap metal and apples for snacks instead of actual supplies, and as for his weapon (if one could even call it a weapon), he had stuck with a set of reed pipes his father had carved for him, though he only knew two songs: Mozart's Piano Concerto no. and Hilary Duff's "So Yesterday," both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.
Will and Grover hugged some people goodbye while Percy kind of floated around awkwardly, pretending to find the sky and the grass fascinating, before the three of them took one last look at Camp Half-Blood, taking in what might've been the last time they saw it, and then hiked up the hill to the pine tree.
Chiron and someone Percy vaguely recognized as the guy who had watched over her the second time she woke up in the infirmary was waiting for them on top of the hill. She had thought she had been hallucinating and delirious the first time she saw him, but no—he actually had eyes all over his body (or, at least, as far as she could tell), which, according to Grover, made him the perfect head of security, since he could never be surprised. He was wearing a chauffeur's uniform that day, though, so maybe some of his vision was blocked, since she could only see eyes on his hands, face, and neck.
"This is Argus," Chiron told them. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."
Will coughed from beside her, hiding a laugh at the pun, which Percy tried not to smile at. Will, she had discovered, had a strange love of puns.
His smile disappeared, though, just as she heard footsteps behind her.
She turned to see Luke running up the hill, carrying a shoe box that seemed eerily similar to the one Grover had given her, the one that had the Minotaur horn in it.
"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."
He gave Grover a big grin, which was returned, but when he glanced at Will, a sudden moment of displeasure crossed his face before it was gone and Luke reached out to ruffle Will's hair. Beside each other, it struck her as to how similar Will, Luke, and Annabeth looked—if she hadn't known any better, she would've thought them siblings... and honestly, it might've been a good thing that Will and Luke had a strange dislike of each other. Between Annabeth and Will's brains, their skill in battle, Will's medical knowledge, and Luke's thieving skills, it wouldn't have taken them long to take over the world.
"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told her, "and that maybe you could use these." He opened the box and pulled out a pair of normal looking sneakers, handing them to her, but before she could ask what was so great about them, he said, "Maia!" and she understood.
A pair of wings sprouted out of the heels of each shoe, startling her so much that she dropped them. Then she, and everybody else, just stared at the shoes as they flapped around on the ground until Luke called out again, "Maia!" and the wings folded up and disappeared.
"Awesome!" Grover said, and Percy had to agree.
Luke smiled. "Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don't use them much these days..." His expression turned sad.
From behind Luke, Will looked like he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes, and Percy wanted to kick him in the shins, but he was too far away. Sure, he might've had his little thing with Luke, but couldn't he have just understood that Luke was trying to help her?
"Hey, man," she said. "Thanks."
Luke suddenly looked uncomfortable, and she wondered why. "Look, Percy... I just wanted to say, a lot of hopes are riding on you. So just... kill some monsters for me, okay?"
"Okay," she said, as if she were confident she could even kill one (she doubted it).
Luke ruffled her hair, patted Grover's head between his horn, and then awkwardly shook hands with Will since the younger blond had backed away with a scowl when Luke tried to do the same. Then he gave them all one last smile and walked away.
"I'm gonna go down now, yeah?" Will said as soon as Luke was gone.
He didn't give the rest of them any chance to respond before hurrying away down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road, muttering to himself in ancient Greek so fast that Percy didn't catch what he was saying, though she heard liar and horrible. She wondered what he was talking about, staring at his retreating figure as Argus followed him, jingling the car keys.
Percy picked up the shoes, turning them over in her hands, and then glanced at Chiron, just remembering something. "I can't... well, I can't fly, right? Even if it's just a low height?"
Chiron shook his head. "Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air ... that would not be wise for you."
She nodded, feeling a small bit of relief. Though it definitely would've been cool to learn how to fly, she would've preferred learning how to do that in camp, or somewhere safe, at least, instead of on a death quest. Maybe she'd get the monsters to laugh at how silly she looked while flying before they killed her. Maybe she'd be immortalized that way, but Percy would've rather not been known as the poor schmuck who fell over in the air a hundred times.
Then she glanced at Grover, and got an idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"
His eyes lit up. "Me?"
Pretty soon, he had ditched his sneakers for the magic ones, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.
"Maia!" he shouted.
He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.
"Practice," Chiron called after him. "You just need practice!"
"Aaaaah!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van, where he almost crashed into Will, but the blond managed to duck and, shaking his head, laughing, ran after Grover.
Percy smiled a little, glad to see her friends at least somewhat carefree in the face of almost certain death (the Oracle might've said she succeeded, but it never said anything about the Fates of her friends, and that little betrayal line nagged her more than she would've liked), but before she could follow, Chiron caught her arm. "I should have trained you better, Percy," he said. "If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason—they all got more training."
"That's okay. I just wish—"
Percy managed to stop herself in time. She had already dissed the gods enough for a lifetime, but she found herself wishing that her dad had given her something cool, like Luke's flying shoes, or Annabeth's invisibility cap, or even Will's magic bow or ukulele. Maybe she needed to prove herself or something before her dad thought that she was worthy of a gift, though that just irritated her more than she would've liked.
"What am I thinking?" Chiron suddenly cried. "I can't let you get away without this."
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a pen, and handed it to Percy, who took it gingerly and gave Chiron a puzzled look, rolling it over in her hands. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint, black ink, removable cap. Probably cost around thirty cents.
When Percy had been asking for a magic item, she hadn't exactly imagined a magic pen.
"Gee," she muttered. "Thanks."
As if he knew how disappointed she was (not that it wasn't very hard to figure out), Chiron said, "Percy, that's a gift from your father. I've kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one."
As he spoke, Percy suddenly remembered—back on the field trip, to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, Chiron had thrown her a pen that had magically transformed into a pen midair.
Almost without thinking, Percy uncapped the pen, and instantly, it grew longer and heavier in her hand. In about half a second, she was holding a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade (Luke would've been proud she remembered that lesson), leather wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. Though the sword was a bit plain, Percy didn't mind it at all—in fact, she was more relieved at the fact that it was the first weapon that actually felt balanced, and she turned it over in her hand, admiring the blade.
"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron said grimly as he watched her. "Its name is Anaklusmos."
"Riptide," Percy translated, then blinked in surprise at how easily Ancient Greek came to her.
"Use it only for emergencies," Chiron said, "and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn't harm them in any case."
"Huh? Oh, oh right."
Will had explained that to her when she had asked him about it during one of their sword-fighting lessons—something about Mount Etna and the River Lethe and yada-yada. She hadn't really been paying attention, but she did remember him explaining how, while their weapons hurt monsters, it couldn't physically even touch a mortal, since, according to Greek Mythology, they just weren't important enough to kill. Then he had ended that lesson with explaining that, as a demigod, she could be hurt by both steel and enchanted metals, which was such a nice note to end on.
"Now recap the pen," Chiron said.
Percy wasn't entirely sure how to do that, but she tried touching the pen cap to the sword tip and Riptide instantly shrank down into a ballpoint pen again. When she went to stick the pen in her pocket, though, she discovered a problem—women's jeans weren't really meant to hold anything larger than a quarter, and clearly, whoever came up with the design for Riptide hadn't been expecting women's jeans to be a problem.
She didn't want to put it in her backpack, though, since that would just take way too long to unsheathe, so Percy just decided to stick it behind her ear and figure it out later... and possibly ask Will for advice. Still, she was a bit nervous about putting it there, in case she accidentally dropped it and didn't realize until too late. Knowing her, it would've been probable.
"You can't," Chiron said.
"Can't what?"
"Lose the pen," he said. "It is enchanted. Try it."
Percy wasn't sure she wanted to throw away her first and possibly only magical gift from her dad, especially when she had just gotten the thing, in case Chiron messed up the details from the receipt, but she chucked the thing as far as she could, down the hill, and watched it disappear in the grass.
"It may take a few moments," Chiron said.
Sure enough, the pen had magically reappeared in her pocket, sticking out loosely, and Percy took it out and put it back behind her ear, admitting, "Okay, that's extremely cool. But what if a mortal sees me pulling out a sword?"
Chiron smiled. "Mist is a powerful thing, Percy."
"Mist?" It sounded familiar, and she could almost hear Annabeth saying it...
"Yes. Read The Iliad. It's full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality."
Percy blinked. That seemed convenient. Then she wondered if Mist could change the memories of others. After all, Mrs Dodds had definitely existed, even if she had turned out to be an evil grandma, but nobody else had remembered her. Was it possible for gods or someone to manipulate Mist? Probably.
Then she glanced down the hill again, to Will, Grover, and Argus' waiting figures.
For the first time, the quest felt real. She was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill with no adult supervision, no backup plan (not that go west was even an actual plan), and not even a cell phone (Chiron had said that cell phones were traceable by monsters, which sounded bad). She had no weapon stronger than a sword to fight off monsters and reach the Underworld... unless she counted the power of friendship or something.
And all of this was to prevent the largest war in history.
It made all her stress about studying for previous tests seem so small in comparison.
"Chiron..." she hesitated. "When you say the gods are immortal... I mean, there was a time before them, right?"
"Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age."
"So what was it like ... before the gods?"
Chiron pursed his lips. "Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born."
"But the gods can't die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they're alive. So... even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?"
Sure, the prophecy had said she would succeed, but that didn't mean she trusted it. It was hard to trust something after it told you that you'd be betrayed and then fail.
As if he knew her true feelings, Chiron only gave her a melancholy smile. "No one knows how long the Age of the West will last, Percy. The gods are immortal, yes. But then, so were the Titans. They still exist, locked away in their various prisons, forced to endure endless pain and punishment, reduced in power, but still very much alive. May the Fates forbid that the gods should ever suffer such a doom, or that we should ever return to the darkness and chaos of the past. All we can do, child, is follow our destiny."
Percy was really beginning to hate that word. Destiny. What did that even mean? Wasn't the whole point of being human being able to choose your own destiny? And the way Chiron spoke... it was like he knew her fate, but he just couldn't say anything. She wasn't sure if she was terrified or annoyed by that. Possibly a healthy mixture of both.
"Relax," Chiron said, as if saying it would magically erase all her anxiety. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."
"Relax," she said stiffly. "I'm very relaxed."
Then she sprinted down the hill, before Chiron could give any more of his terrible advice (sure, he might've been three, four thousand years old, but he was shockingly terrible at comforting kids), toward Will's waiting figure. Then, feeling a little bad about just leaving Chiron hanging, she turned around and waved awkwardly up the hill, where Chironreturned the gesture.
Just a typical goodbye from a typical centaur. Why not?
As Argus drove them out of Long Island, Percy found herself plastered to the window, watching the trees zipping by like a little kid. How strange it felt, being a normal kid again, on a highway, next to Will and Grover, the former of whom never even having left camp in four years. She hadn't realized how two weeks at camp had made the real world feel like a fantasy, and Percy found herself feeling slightly envious of all the other kids in all the other cars with their parents.
"Any ideas on what to do?" Percy asked Will.
"Hm? Oh, well, the Oracle said to go west, right? There isn't really enough information from just that to come up with a plan. When we run into monsters or specific scenarios, then maybe, but I mean..." he hesitated. "Well, I haven't left camp in a long time. I'm not entirely sure where any of the monsters are. Some of the bigger ones usually stick to one place, but... well, other than Laden or Cerberus or something, I don't know."
They had filled Will in on the rest of the prophecy (or, at least, the first two lines; Percy hadn't wanted to tell him the rest). And yet the expression on his face... she had a feeling that he was holding something back too.
"Something wrong?" she asked.
"Well... um..." His expression turned even more hesitant. "I... well, after you told me the prophecy, I went to Annabeth and asked her for her opinion."
"Oh."
"Yeah. Um... well, I know you two don't really like each other, but Annabeth was really helpful and I wouldn't have been able to come up with half my ideas without her. And... um... well, she made me promise her some things that I'd do for her on this quest."
"I don't get it," she told him honestly. "Why does she hate me so much? I get the whole Poseidon-Athena rivalry thing or whatever—not really, actually, because I think it's stupid—but why would she hate me if its our parents who don't get along?"
Will shrugged. "You know, for being the daughter of the wisdom goddess, Athena kids can be surprisingly idiotic sometimes. Not to say that us Apollo kids aren't like that either. Maybe Annabeth feels like she has an obligation to keep up the rivalry and wants to make her mom proud or something, but honestly, I'm not entirely sure. Annabeth'smind works in strange ways sometimes."
"Athena and Poseidon hate each other because of the Athens thing, right?"
He thought about it. "Hard to say. There's a lot of things. One of the other ones was Medusa—you know, she and Poseidon, her boyfriend, were fooling around in her temple, and Athena got mad about the whole disrespect." He glanced at Percy sheepishly. "I know Poseidon is your dad, but let's just say, if I were a god, I probably wouldn't have been as harsh as Athena, but I still would've been pretty ticked off."
"No, I would be too," she said. "Just... all I can think about right now is just how much the ancient Greeks must've loved their olives. If Athena had invented pizza, now that I can understand."
Will laughed out loud at that. "You and me both."
In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at her.
By the time they reached the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, not too far from Percy's apartment, it was almost sunset, but the constant laughter and chatter between the three kids kept their moods relatively light when Argus dropped them off.
That mood, however, quickly disappeared when Percy caught sight of a flyer with her picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS GIRL?
She ripped it down before anybody could notice.
Argus helped them unload their bags (not that there was much other than their backpacks), made sure they had their tickets, and then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand watching them as he left the parking lot. Percy wondered if having so many eyes made him a better driver or worse. Did having a hundred eyes mean he could see all the traffic, or did it mean he got confused about what he was looking at? Did he have to close the eyes he had pressed against the steering wheel?
She decided to not think too much into it, but then she found herself staring down the street. Her old apartment was close. Usually, her mom would've been back from the candy store already. Smelly Gabe was probably up there right now, playing poker with his stupid buddies, not even missing her. She wondered if he even realized she was missing when he played poker. Probably... only because he couldn't get a beer whenever he wanted anymore.
Grover shifted uncomfortably beside her, and then he finally said, "You want to know why she married him, Percy?"
She glanced at him in surprise. "Were you reading my mind or something?"
"Just your emotions." He shrugged. "Guess I forgot to tell you satyrs can do that. You were thinking about your mom and your stepdad, right? Your mom married Gabe for you. You call him 'Smelly,' but you've got no idea. The guy has this aura... Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven't been near him for a week."
"Thanks," she said. "Where's the nearest shower?"
"You should be grateful, Percy. Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. If you hadn't lived with him every summer, you probably would've been found by monsters a long time ago. Your mom stayed with him to protect you. She was a smart lady. She must've loved you a lot to put up with that guy—if that makes you feel any better."
It didn't, but Percy turned away to hide her expression. She tried to cheer herself up. She'd see her mom again. They were going to the Underworld, after all. Maybe turning away didn't help, if Grover could still read her emotions, but it felt like it did. She was glad he and Will were on this quest with her, but she still felt a little guilty that she hadn't been honest with them, that she wasn't on this quest to retrieve Zeus' lightning bolt, or to save the world, or even to clear her father's name.
To face down Hades as a twelve-year-old kid who had known about the Greek gods for about two days was sucide, she knew that, but Percy couldn't find it in herself to care. Hades had taken her mother unfairly, and Hades was going to give her back. Percy wasn't entirely sure how she was going to make him, but she had ten days to figure it out. Hopefully she would. Or else she would lose her only chance to get her mom back...
Stop, she told herself. Just think about the positive.
Just when she started to feel a little better, a crack of lightning had the three of them jumping a foot in the air (Grover a little higher), and then rain began pouring down from the heavens, drenching the three of them. Will groaned—he got his power from the sun, Percy distantly remembered him saying—and Percy might've been the daughter of Poseidon, but she wasn't entirely sure how to keep herself dry yet, and so yes, she hated the rain.
The three of them shared a weary glance and backed up under the shelter of the bus stop, glancing gloomily at the sky, wondering if this was a sign from the gods that their trip was not going to be easy. Not that Percy had expected it to—it had been drilled in her head that, as the daughter of Poseidon, her scent would be stronger than any normal half-blood's—but it just seemed so unfair that she, a twelve-year-old, was expected to travel across the entire country with another twelve-year-old and a goat. Nobody else could help her. Just her friends.
You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend, the Oracle whispered.
"Shut up," she said out loud.
Will frowned. "What?"
"Nothing."
The rain kept coming down.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she finally got the courage to ask Will, "Why do you hate Luke? And don't say you don't."
It took him a while to answer. Will sighed, running a hand through his hair, glancing at Grover who was purposely not looking at him. "Sorry, Grover," Will said apologetically, before turning back to Percy. "Well... logically, I shouldn't. He's done nothing wrong. But Apollo's the god of truth, and Luke..." He hesitated. "There's something off about him. He's always lying. He sometimes disappears into the night. And he changed after his quest. And the thing with Annabeth... he's leading her on. He knows that Annabeth has a crush on him, but he never does anything about it. He doesn't tell her that he doesn't have feelings for her, or tell her that it's wrong. He's just... manipulating her. Annabeth'slike a sister to me."
Percy frowned. "Lying? About what?"
"Everything. Things you wouldn't expect him to be lying about. Someone could ask him what he did last night and he'd say something mundane, but all my warning bells would go off. He's been getting injuries too—injuries none of us medics can explain, that can only have been received from monsters, but Luke is always training kids. That means he must be going into the woods late at night, but why? And whenever he says anything nice, whenever he compliments anyone... I get this horrible, horrible feeling he's lying." He nodded at Grover's shoes. "When he said he was giving you a gift... well, Grover, I know he's your friend, but he... well, I don't think he wants to help."
"I think your senses are off," Grover said. "Luke's been nothing but kind to everyone."
"Grover, I'm telling you, there is something Luke isn't telling us. It's only a matter of time before the truth comes to light. Have you even seen the way he looks at Percy when he's training her? Like he hates her and yet approves of how well she's been improving? And when its dinner, when he sacrifices to Hermes, haven't you noticed he always picks the bad parts of his meal? And how he always says Hermes' name in disgust?"
"I think you should ask Lee to lighten up on your medic duties," was Grover's only hurt reply. "Clearly you're being overworked and are seeing things that aren't there. I agree that it's bad Luke isn't saying anything to Annabeth about her feelings for him, but you can't accuse him of being... of being a traitor. He's my friend. I know he's proud of Percy for improving so quickly and—"
Percy could only stand there awkwardly as Will and Grover started to get into an argument about the older blond. Clearly, Grover and Luke went way back somehow, and didn't appreciate Will insulting his friend, but Will, who also clearly had wanted to say all that for a long time, wasn't backing down either. Percy couldn't say she agreed with either—she had never noticed everything that Will was pointing out, and she didn't trust herself to think back in case she made up fake memories, but then again, she had never really been that observant in the first place.
Still, it was almost a bit strange to see Grover so heatedly defend Luke. Grover had always been so timid, so shy, especially in the face of Mr D, but the way he was arguing with Will... well, it would've been a lie to say she wasn't surprised. Though she did like Will, she was torn between congratulating Grover for finally standing up for what he believed in and trying to get them to work together and agree to disagree for the sake of completing their quest.
In the end, she didn't need to do anything, because they both stiffly ended their argument and arguing about it was pointless, though Percy hadn't felt that much tension between the two since... well, ever. Though Will and Grover hadn't exactly seemed like best buds, they had always been friendly toward each other, and Percy had even pegged them to be extremely good friends. Seeing them argue with each other with such fervor had been a little jarring, though Percy found herself privately wondering, if, instead of Will, she had allowed Annabeth to come, would they have argued just like how Will and Grover were arguing?
Probably.
The three of them just stood stiffly at the bus stop, and, unbeknownst to them, all desperately waited for the bus to come. Percy found herself nervously patting the water pouch at her side. It had seemed like a good idea in the beginning, but now she was wondering if it really was. She wasn't trained in waterbending (yes, Percy had watched Avatar: The Last Airbender when the first episode came out, and yes, Percy would've been lying if she said she hadn't been slightly excited she was almost like the real-like Katara) and the water might've been more a hassle than anything, but at least she could use it for healing herself, she reasoned. Better that than nothing.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, the bus came. Percy was all too relieved to board, but Grover tensed from beside her. He started looking around, sniffing the air, not inconspicuously, like he had smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy-enchiladas.
"What is it?" Will asked.
"I don't know," Grover said, frowning, glancing over his shoulder. "Maybe it's nothing."
Percy and Will exchanged looks. It definitely wasn't nothing, but they didn't say that outloud. Percy found herself nervously reaching up and unhooking the pen off her ear, already feeling as though a fight was on its way, and she caught Will glancing over his shoulder, anxiously tapping his watch, like it was second nature, though she was grateful he didn't start saying his dad's name too. That would've been a little harder to explain.
They had just boarded the bus and found seats in the back, and Percy had started feeling as though they might've made it at least out of New York before all went to hell when Will clamped his hand on her knee, making her jump.
"Percy," he whispered, his eyes wide with horror.
Percy was just about to ask what was wrong when she saw her.
She looked like an old lady, but Percy had too many bad experiences with old ladies, and she knew this one. From behind her came two more old ladies—they looked exactly the same, save that each had a different colored hat—orange, green, and purple—and they looked harmless enough, but even from a distance, Percy could see their black eyes glittering with malice.
Triple demon grandmothers.
Percy scrunched down in her seat.
They didn't seem to notice her, though. Each took a different row, on the aisle seat, crossing their legs over the walkway, making an X. It seemed casual enough to anybody who didn't know who they were, but Percy understood the message well enough: nobody leaves.
"Will—"
"Shh," he said, cutting Percy off, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. "Let me think. The Kindly Ones. It's okay. No problem. We can leave through the windows?"
"They don't open," Grover whispered from next to the window as he unsuccessfully tried to pry them open.
The bus gave a jolt as it started moving, pulling away from the stop. Clearly, getting off the bus wasn't an option anymore either. Percy almost wished they had. Maybe they could've gone back to camp and explained the situation to Chiron. He might've been disappointed in her, but at least her friends would've lived. She would never forgive herself if they died in the first ten minutes into the quest.
"Back exit?" Will suggested.
"No use," Percy muttered. "We're already on Ninth Avenue." Then she paused. "They won't attack with witnesses around, right?"
"Well, mortals can't see through the Mist."
"They'll see three old ladies killing us, won't they?"
He thought about it. "Hard to say. But we can't count on mortals for help. Maybe an emergency exit on the roof...?"
Too late. They had already reached the Lincoln Tunnel, and the entire bus plunged into darkness, save for the strip of light down the aisle. They wouldn't have been able to find the exit if they tried. Percy found herself clutching Will's arm, and he too was holding onto her tightly, his face deathly pale in the white light of the bus. She wasn't sure if she was glad Will was terrified too. It meant she wasn't a total coward, but it also meant that, if even Will was afraid, they had a lesser chance of escaping alive.
Mrs Dodds, the one with the orange hat, stood up, and in the flattest voice Percy had ever heard, she announced, "I need to use the restroom."
"So do I," said the second sister.
"So do I," said the third sister.
They hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo that most normal humans didn't actually announce they needed to use the restroom, or they just really didn't even care about acting normal anymore. They all started coming down the aisle.
"Got it," Will whispered, fumbling through his bag. "Percy, take Annabeth's hat."
"What?" Something was shoved into her hands. "Annabeth's gonna kill me for this."
"Are you seriously concerned about that right now? Percy, get your priorities straight. You're the one they want. Turn invisible and go up the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away."
"But you guys—"
"There's an outside chance they might not notice us," Will said. "You're a daughter of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering."
"I can't just leave you."
"Don't worry about us," Grover said. "Go!"
Percy wanted to argue, but Will didn't give her any time. With a groan, he snatched the hat out of her hands and practically stuffed it onto her head. Then he pushed her out of the seat where she almost fell on her butt. Luckily, she caught herself at the last moment, using her non-existent hands to get back onto her feet (realizing she couldn't see her own body was a strange experience), and, shooting a worried glare in Will and Grover's direction, began creeping up the aisle, trying to stay as silent as possible.
She managed to get up ten rows before she had to duck into an empty seat, her heart pounding so loudly she was sure the Furies could hear it. Sure enough, Mrs Dodds stopped, sniffed, and then turned her beady eyes right on Percy. Percy tried not to breathe.
Apparently, she didn't see anything, because she turned back around and started marching again, her sisters in tow.
As soon as she was in the clear, Percy slipped back into the aisle and made it to the front of the bus. They were almost through the Lincoln Tunnel by then. Percy had just been about to hit the emergency stop button when she suddenly heard hideous wailing from the back row and, forgetting her mission, whirled around, the cap almost falling off her head.
The old ladies had transformed. Their faces were still the same—those couldn't get uglier, apparently—but their bodies had shriveled into leathery brown hag bodies with bat's wings and hands and feet like gargoyle claws. Their handbags had turned into fiery whips.
The Furies surrounded Grover and Will, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"
The other people on the bus were screaming, cowering in their seats. They saw something, all right. Percy just hoped that what they saw was playing into their favor and not the Furies'.
"She's not here!" Will yelled, placing himself between Grover and them. "She's gone!"
The Furies raised their whips.
Percy had never seen Will in actual combat, and she was suddenly glad she wasn't his enemy. His eyes were blazing—even from all the way across the bus, she could see that his eyes weren't blue anymore; they were molten gold, as fiery as the scorching sun his father was the god of, and his face held a cold fury that seemed so out of place on his usual cheerful expression. Throwing one arm in front of Grover, as if trying to shield the satyr with his own body, Will unsheathed his knife with a dramatic flourish, his eyes never leaving the Furies, while Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it.
Percy's mind went blank.
What she did next, she blamed on the panic.
Taking advantage of the driver's distraction, who was trying to see what was going on in the rearview mirror, Percy grabbed the steering wheel and jerked it, hard, to the left, forgetting that she was still invisible and steering wheels normally did not suddenly jerk away from their drivers. Everybody howled as they were suddenly thrown to the right, and Percy heard what she hoped was the sound of three Furies smashing against the windows.
"Hey!" the driver yelled. "Hey—whoa!"
They wrestled for the wheel. The bus slammed against the side of the tunnel, grinding metal, throwing sparks a mile behind them. They careened out of the Lincoln Tunnel and back into the rainstorm, people and monsters tossed around the bus, screaming together, cars plowed aside like bowling pins.
Somehow the driver found an exit. They shot off the highway, through half a dozen traffic lights, and ended up barreling down one of those New Jersey rural roads where you can't believe there's so much nothing right across the river from New York. There were woods to their left, the Hudson River to their right, and the driver seemed to be veering toward the river.
Percy could hear her friends screaming in the back of the bus. She needed to stop the bus. Now.
So, of course, she slammed the emergency brake.
The bus wailed, spun a full circle on the wet asphalt, and crashed into the trees, deploying the airbags. Somehow, nobody died. The emergency lights came on. The door flew open. The bus driver was the first one out, the passengers yelling as they stampeded after him. Percy stepped into the driver's seat and let them pass, hands already reaching for Riptide.
She uncapped her sword, holding a shimmering double-edged blade a second later, and, still invisible, she used the sounds of chaos in the bus as a cover, running toward the nearest Fury.
In Percy's defense, she had panicked, and wasn't entirely sure what to do, but she was sure that, if Luke had known she was going to be facing down Furies, his first lesson would've been to teach her to not charge at one without a plan. Still, Percy technically did have a plan: stab.
And she did that pretty well.
The first demon grandmother went down with a wail as soon as Percy ran her over. Her fiery whip somehow managed to wrap itself around her leg, though, and Percy yelped in pain, her leg on fire, and they both went down, the monster exploding into dust, and though Percy, thankfully, did not explode, she hit the floor, hard, Annabeth's cap rolling off her own head.
Her eyes swam with tears as she reached down and tried to yank the whip off her leg. Why wasn't it dust? Was it like her Minotaur horn? Her hands blistered and burned on contact with the weapon, but she managed to untangle it from her leg and throw it at the other Fury who was lumbering toward her. The second Fury screamed at the unexpected heated contact, and Grover tried to distract her by throwing a tin can. Will, on the other hand, was faring rather well against Mrs Dodds, dancing just out of reach of her whip.
At the other Fury's screech, though, he glanced over distractedly, almost getting murdered by Mrs Dodds, but he managed to dodge at the last second; his eyes widened when he saw Percy crumpled on the ground in pain, her hands blistered to the point where she could hardly even hold her sword, and gritted his teeth, running toward the Fury who was approaching Percy.
He slammed into her and the two of them went crashing, the demon grandmother yelping in surprise as Mrs Dodds' whip sliced the air above them. Will's knife had clattered out of his hands, and the Fury he had lunged at whirled around with a snarl, talons ready, but Percy's hand closed around the hilt of Riptide and lunged toward the Fury, running her through, and she screamed, bursting into dust as Percy gasped in pain and dropped her sword.
Mrs Dodds advanced on the two half-bloods on the floor, flames dancing on her whip, but Grover saved their lives.
"Percy!" he yelled. "Will!" and he launched a volley of tin cans at the Fury.
Taking advantage of her sudden distraction, Will lunged for his knife and sliced at Mrs Dodds, but the Fury somehow managed to parry his blade and swiped at him. Will had to stagger backward to avoid getting sliced into ribbons, but before Mrs Dodds could attack him again, Grover shoved her into the seat the three of them had been in. Mrs Doddsfell over with a screech, and her wings were so large that she couldn't get up with them or fold them—she was stuck.
"Zeus will destroy you!" she promised. "Hades will have your soul!"
"Braccas meas vescimini!" Will yelled.
Percy was too tired and delirious to make sense of what just happened, but had Will just yelled, Eat my pants! in Latin? Probably not. It was probably the pain talking.
Thunder shook the bus.
Will's eyes widened.
"Help me!" he shouted.
Grover didn't need to ask what for. He immediately helped Will lift Percy up, who felt both horribly useless and embarrassed, and the latter placed an arm around her waist as Percy wrapped her arm around Will, trying to be as light as she could, though she wasn't sure how, and he practically carried her off the bus, Grover forcing a path through the curious yet horrified onlookers from the bus.
There was a flash of light. Percy glanced over in a daze. Someone had taken a photo of her, and she was still holding Riptide by just her fingertips. Great. Time to make the front page again.
Before she had more time to dwell on that matter, though, an angry wail from inside pierced the sky. The bus exploded, lightning shredding a huge crater in the roof.
Will's grip tightened on her waist.
"Run!" he shouted. "She's calling for reinforcements! We have to get out of here!"
They plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind them, and nothing but darkness ahead.
I think there's a few typos in this chapter but I'm too tired to change them so pretend they're not there.
Sorry about going MIA for such a long time. I've just been really stressed about SATs and college apps and school. This isn't one of my best chapters, but you guys deserved something. As you can tell, I rewrote the entire fight scene, because I wanted to show some sort of variation from the original work as early as possible. Also, a lot more of this chapter was taken directly from the original text than I would've liked, which isn't something I'm proud of, but if I hadn't done that, this chapter would've taken way longer to come out.
I also checked the Avatar timeline and yes, A:TLA came out in February of 2005, while TLT is set in June of 2005, so several episodes had already come out. I'm also thinking of writing an A:TLA fanfiction (with Zuko, of course), if any of you even want to read that. Probably not.
To end this super long author's note: as usual, thank you reviewers, and shout out to readers!