So I have decided to upload the story as a new one with no changes for the first chapter but I have completed my 2nd chapter. Hope you enjoy!
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE HEROES OF OLYMPUS SERIES. ALL THE RIGHTS BELONG TO RICK RIORDAN. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT.
CHAPTER 1
"Wait a minute!" Apollo exclaimed, "You can't go away like that! At least not before telling us what are we going to read in these couple of pages."
The Fates simply turned their head and looked at Apollo, "Lord Apollo, we can only tell you that words in these pages replicate the exact thing happening in the mortal world with Lord Poseidon's and Lady Athena's children. That's all we can say. As you all Gods don't have any form of connection or communication with your off- springs, we thought of granting you a favor. That's all we wish to say on this matter."
And the Fates flashed out of the room.
Athena, looked down at the sheets of paper on her hand given by the Fates and then looked back at the rest of the council. All the Gods had grave faces and Poseidon looked the worst. It was as if he had aged and was ill at the present moment.
Athena understood that these pages were based on Annabeth's current quest for finding Athena Parthenos.
She sighed and looked at Apollo and asked, "Apollo? Would you like to read for us?"
Apollo only nodded and got up from his throne and walked towards Athena. He fetched the papers from her and sat beside Hestia's hearth and Hestia smiled at Apollo who returned it with a half-hearted smile. He looked at the papers and then said that it was going to be from Annabeth's point of view.
"ANNABETH" he read out loud.
Annabeth had reached her terror limit.
"Why?" asked Poseidon.
Athena knew why it was like that as many of her children perished before in the hands of that monsters. She said, "You'll see, Poseidon."
She'd been assaulted by chauvinist ghosts. She'd broken her ankle. She'd been chased across a chasm by an army of spiders. Now, in severe pain, with her ankle wrapped in boards and Bubble Wrap, and carrying no weapon except her dagger, she faced Arachne—a monstrous half-spider who wanted to kill her and make a commemorative tapestry about it.
Poseidon wasn't sure how he could answer that. He only said, "Oh!"
In the last few hours, Annabeth had shivered, sweated, whimpered, and blinked back so many tears that her body simply gave up on being scared. Her mind said something like, Okay, sorry. I can't be any more terrified than I already am.
So instead, Annabeth started to think.
"Daughter of Athena." Smiled Hestia.
The monstrous creature picked her way down from the top of the web-covered statue. She moved from strand to strand, hissing with pleasure, her four eyes glittering in the dark. Either she was not in a hurry, or she was slow.
Annabeth hoped she was slow.
Not that it mattered. Annabeth was in no condition to run, and she didn't like her chances in combat. Arachne probably weighed several hundred pounds. Those barbed legs were perfect for capturing and killing prey. Besides, Arachne probably had other horrible powers—a poisonous bite, or web-slinging abilities like an Ancient Greek Spider-Man.
"Ancient Greek Spider-Man? Really?" Hera raised one of her eyebrows.
"I should say Athena, your daughter has an amazing sense of humor." Said Apollo, as if actually appreciating Annabeth's ability of having a good sense of humor.
"Seriously, Apollo. It looks like you are actually pointing it out that it is uncommon for a daughter of Athena to have a sense of humor." Pointed out Artemis.
"It's not like as if I'm pointing out anything uncommon in Annabeth, it's just that even in times of danger, Annabeth could joke like that, Arachne being an Ancient Greek Spider-Man." Said Apollo in his defence.
Athena let out a small laugh.
It was indeed, very hilarious that Arachne was being imagined by Annabeth as Spider-Man.
No. Combat was not the answer.
"Good thinking, Annabeth." Athena nodded her head in agreement.
In the old legends, Arachne had gotten into trouble because of pride. She'd bragged about her tapestries being better than Athena's, which had led to Mount Olympus's first reality TV punishment program: So You Think You Can Weave Better Than a Goddess? Arachne had lost in a big way.
"Yep. My buddy Apollo and I earned about fifty two thousand drachmas for that show. The house was full and everyone on Olympus wanted to see it. How could we say no to that when everybody was willing to offer fifteen drachmas for one seat?" grinned Hermes as he and Apollo high-fived.
Annabeth knew something about being prideful. It was her fatal flaw as well. She often had to remind herself that she couldn't do everything alone. She wasn't always the best person for every job. Sometimes she got tunnel vision and forgot about what other people needed, even Percy. And she could get easily distracted talking about her favorite projects.
But could she use that weakness against the spider? Maybe if she stalled for time…though she wasn't sure how stalling would help. Her friends wouldn't be able to reach her, even if they knew where to go. The cavalry would not be coming. Still, stalling was better than dying.
She tried to keep her expression calm, which wasn't easy with a broken ankle. She limped toward the nearest tapestry—a cityscape of Ancient Rome.
"She wove a tapestry after all that drama and contest?" questioned Artemis.
"I may have turned her into a monstrous creature but believe me, being a weaver, Arachne couldn't refrain herself from weaving any tapestry. It was her life. All her life she wove and she intended to the same and also, when the time would come, take out her revenge on me by killing my children." Athena said, sadness clear in her voice.
"Marvellous," she said. "Tell me about this tapestry."
Arachne's lips curled over her mandibles. "Why do you care? You're about to die."
Athena could do nothing but only sigh.
"Well, yes," Annabeth said. "But the way you captured the light is amazing. Did you use real golden thread for the sunbeams?"
The weaving truly was stunning. Annabeth didn't have to pretend to be impressed.
Arachne allowed herself a smug smile. "No, child. Not gold. I blended the colors, contrasting bright yellow with darker hues. That's what gives it a three-dimensional effect."
"Beautiful." Annabeth's mind split into two different levels: one carrying on the conversation, the other madly grasping for a scheme to survive. Nothing came to her. Arachne had been beaten only once—by Athena herself, and that had taken godly magic and incredible skill in a weaving contest.
"So you used your godly powers in that contest?" asked a very curious Aphrodite.
"Yes as Arachne's tapestry was as beautiful as mine. To teach her a lesson, I had to use some godly powers." Said Athena.
"Well, I can't say that I'm not worried for your daughter Athena. It makes me wonder, where my son is. Isn't he supposed to be with Annabeth?"
The goddess of wisdom shrugged and looked at the Hearth, wanting to go down and help her daughter but she knew that she couldn't as she was bound to Olympus until and unless Zeus gave her the permission to go down and help her.
But she knew that Zeus wouldn't do that. The danger of an Olympian was much greater in value to him than a life a demigod.
"So…" she said. "Did you see this scene yourself?"
Arachne hissed, her mouth foaming in a not-very-attractive way. "You are trying to delay your death. It won't work."
"No, no," Annabeth insisted. "It just seems a shame that these beautiful tapestries can't be seen by everyone. They belong in a museum, or…"
"Or what?" Arachne asked.
"I have a very bad idea about where this is going." Said Hermes, sweating a bit.
A crazy idea sprang fully formed from Annabeth's mind, like her mom jumping out of Zeus's noggin.
The Gods chuckled at Annabeth's thought.
But could she make it work?
"Of course she can. That brat is Athena's daughter." Muttered Dionysus.
"Nothing." She sighed wistfully. "It's a silly thought. Too bad."
Arachne scuttled down the statue until she was perched atop the goddess's shield. Even from that distance, Annabeth could smell the spider's stink, like an entire bakery full of pastries left to go bad for a month.
"I give up." Said Apollo, while laughing hard, "This is too much for me to handle. I mean seriously? Annabeth should be one of the Muses. The Muse of Humorous Statemen….." Apollo trailed off when he noticed that Athena was glaring at him.
"What?" the spider pressed. "What silly thought?"
Annabeth had to force herself not to back away. Broken ankle or no, every nerve in her body pulsed with fear, telling her to get away from the huge spider hovering over her.
"Oh…it's just that I was put in charge of redesigning Mount Olympus," she said. "You know, after the Titan War. I've completed most of the work, but we need a lot of quality public art. The throne room of the gods, for instance…I was thinking your work would be perfect to display there. The Olympians could finally see how talented you are. As I said, it was a silly thought."
"Yes." Zeus nodded strongly, "It would be a total embarrassment for the Gods. Tapestries woven by a spider?!"
"I WON'T ALLOW IT!" Zeus boomed.
Arachne's hairy abdomen quivered. Her four eyes glimmered as if she had a separate thought behind each and was trying to weave them into a coherent web.
"You're redesigning Mount Olympus," she said. "My work…in the throne room."
"Well, other places too," Annabeth said. "The main pavilion could use several of these. That one with the Greek landscape—the Nine Muses would love that. And I'm sure the other gods would be fighting over your work as well. They'd compete to have your tapestries in their palaces. I guess, aside from Athena, none of the gods has ever seen what you can do?"
Arachne snapped her mandibles. "Hardly. In the old days, Athena tore up all my best work. My tapestries depicted the gods in rather unflattering ways, you see. Your mother didn't appreciate that."
"Rather hypocritical," Annabeth said.
"Uh oh!" muttered Aphrodite, "Annabeth sweety, you should never criticize your mother like that. She is likely to blast you into millions of pieces."
"Since the gods make fun of each other all the time. I think the trick would be to pit one god against another. Ares, for instance, would love a tapestry making fun of my mother. He's always resented Athena."
"Hmm." Ares pondered over the idea.
…
…
…
He then suddenly clicked his fingers, his dark red eyes shining with excitement, "Actually, that isn't a bad idea at all. This could work. Give my special thanks to Annabeth, Athena."
The goddess of wisdom rolled her eyes.
Arachne's head tilted at an unnatural angle. "You would work against your own mother?"
"Yeah Annabeth, you would work against your own mother?" said Hera.
"I'm just telling you what Ares would like," Annabeth said. "And Zeus would love something that made fun of Poseidon. Oh, I'm sure if the Olympians saw your work, they'd realize how amazing you are, and I'd have to broker a bidding war. As for working against my mother, why shouldn't I? She sent me here to die, didn't she? The last time I saw her in New York, she basically disowned me."
The Gods raised their eyebrows.
Athena blushed and said nothing but bowed her head in embarrassment.
"You disowned your own daughter?" asked Hestia in surprise.
"This was the only way I could make her search for Athena Parthenos."
"I should say Athena, I don't like your way of issuing quests to your own children." Said Poseidon.
Athena said nothing but blushed even a deeper red color.
Annabeth told her the story. She shared her bitterness and sorrow, and it must have sounded genuine. The spider did not pounce.
"This is Athena's nature," Arachne hissed. "She casts aside even her own daughter. The goddess would never allow my tapestries to be shown in the palaces of the gods. She was always jealous of me."
The goddess of wisdom snorted.
"But imagine if you could get your revenge at long last."
"By killing you!"
"NO!" said Artemis like a mother refusing her child about buying him anything even after all his pleadings.
"I suppose." Annabeth scratched her head. "Or…by letting me be your agent. I could get your work into Mount Olympus. I could arrange an exhibition for the other gods. By the time my mother found out, it would be too late. The Olympians would finally see that your work is better."
"Then you admit it!" Arachne cried. "A daughter of Athena admits I am better! Oh, this is sweet to my ears."
"Yeah, it's not every day a monster gets to hear that its talent is much better than a God from the mouth a of a demigod." Sighed Hermes.
"But a lot of good it does you," Annabeth pointed out. "If I die down here, you go on living in the dark. Gaea destroys the gods, and they never realize you were the better weaver."
The spider hissed.
Annabeth was afraid her mother might suddenly appear and curse her with some terrible affliction. The first lesson every child of Athena learned: Mom was the best at everything, and you should never, ever suggest otherwise.
"Yeah or the result could be worse than Mt. Vesuvius." Nodded Poseidon in agreement, "I am a victim of that."
Athena smirked at the sea god, "Yeah. You had been a victim. I miss that punishment. Maybe one day when you will do something to offend me, I'll release her."
"Who is 'her', Uncle Poseidon?" Hermes smiled mischievously.
Poseidon and gulped and wiped the sweat off his face, looking green, "Don't even ask."
But nothing bad happened. Maybe Athena understood that Annabeth was only saying these things to save her life. Or maybe Athena was in such in bad shape, split between her Greek and Roman personalities, that she wasn't even paying attention.
"I am paying attention, Annabeth and I can very well hear the insults you are throwing towards me but that's acceptable, considering the situation you are in." nodded Athena.
"You know you are speaking to the sheets, right Athena?" asked a very concerned Zeus, worrying about his daughter's health.
"This will not do," Arachne grumbled. "I cannot allow it."
"Well…" Annabeth shifted, trying to keep her weight off her throbbing ankle. A new crack appeared in the floor, and she hobbled back.
"Careful!" Arachne snapped. "The foundations of this shrine have been eaten away over the centuries!"
"Excuse me, but is it just me or did I just hear that the foundation of that thing had been eaten away?" asked Dionysus.
Annabeth's heartbeat faltered. "Eaten away?"
"You have no idea how much hatred boils beneath us," the spider said. "The spiteful thoughts of so many monsters trying to reach the Athena Parthenos and destroy it. My webbing is the only thing holding the room together, girl! One false step, and you'll fall all the way to Tartarus—and believe me, unlike the Doors of Death, this would be a one-way trip, a very hard fall! I will not have you dying before you tell me your plan for my artwork."
Athena paled, "Tartarus?"
Everyone in the room was quite, the only sound that could be heard was the crackle of the fire of the Hearth.
Annabeth's mouth tasted like rust. All the way to Tartarus? She tried to stay focused, but it wasn't easy as she listened to the floor creak and crack, spilling rubble into the void below.
"Right, the plan," Annabeth said. "Um…as I said, I'd love to take your tapestries to Olympus and hang them everywhere. You could rub your craftsmanship in Athena's nose for all eternity. But the only way I could do that…No. It's too difficult. You might as well go ahead and kill me."
"No! Not her!" shouted Athena in shock.
"No!" Arachne cried. "That is unacceptable. It no longer brings me any pleasure to contemplate. I must have my work on Mount Olympus! What must I do?"
"Good. No killing." The goddess said in relief.
The other Gods could only imagine the shock Athena was going through right now and there was nothing they could do to calm her down.
Annabeth shook her head. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said anything. Just push me into Tartarus or something."
"I refuse!"
"Don't be ridiculous. Kill me."
"I do not take orders from you! Tell me what I must do! Or…or—"
"Or you'll kill me?"
"Yes! No!" The spider pressed her front legs against her head. "I must show my work on Mount Olympus."
"Gah!" said Zeus in disgust, "I am glad you turned her into a spider Athena. That disgusting thing showing her work here? In front of us? She is not even worthy to look at us!"
"Right!" Hades muttered gleefully, "He's gone mad!"
Annabeth tried to contain her excitement. Her plan might actually work…but she still had to convince Arachne to do something impossible. She remembered some good advice Frank Zhang had given her: Keep it simple.
"I suppose I could pull a few strings," she conceded.
"I excel at pulling strings!" said Arachne. "I'm a spider!"
"Of course you are! We all know that!" Apollo said happily.
"Yeah and I feel right now about tying some strings around his neck and then pulling it so that he could suffocate and not talk anymore or at least annoy me." Exclaimed a very annoyed Artemis.
"I'm your brother! Surely you wouldn't do that! What would mother think? She would be unhappy. Her favorite child being suffocated by her daughter. Oh the horror!"
Apollo placed his hands on his cheeks, his eyes wide with fake horror.
Artemis could only roll her eyes seeing his brother's childishness.
"Yes, but to get your work shown on Mount Olympus, we'd need a proper audition. I'd have to pitch the idea, submit a proposal, put together a portfolio. Hmm…do you have any headshots?"
"Headshots?"
"Glossy black-and-white…Oh, never mind. The audition piece is the most important thing. These tapestries are excellent. But the gods would require something really special—something that shows off your talent in the extreme."
"This is getting extreme." Said Hermes to Apollo, between his laughs, after looking at a very angry Zeus.
Arachne snarled. "Are you suggesting that these are not my best work? Are you challenging me to a contest?"
"Oh, no!" Annabeth laughed. "Against me? Gosh, no. You are much too good. It would only be a contest against yourself, to see if you really have what it takes to show your work on Mount Olympus."
"Of course I do!"
"That-"but before Athena could finish, Poseidon dumped a bucket of fresh sea water on her.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" screamed Athena in rage.
"That," Poseidon grinned, "was me dumping a bucket of water on your head to calm you."
"WHAT?!"
"Yeah, you looked like you needed one. You looked so red in the face just like Apollo's red cows!"
"You did not-"
"Yeah I did!" smiled Poseidon, "And it's for your own good!"
Athena paused in surprise.
…
Hermes snickered, "Oh Gods! He didn't just say that! He is so dead!"
"You are laughing?!" mouthed Apollo to Hermes.
"Can't help it! It's so funny!"
…
Athena stormed towards Poseidon, looking downright murderous. The latter on the other hand, was slowly starting to realize that it was a bad idea.
"Uh huh! Now he gets it." Hera said to Demeter who nodded in agreement, simply calculating the number of wounds her brother might end up with and whispered to Apollo, "Apollo! You better have a bed ready in your temple. Poseidon's going to need it."
The sun god nodded in agreement.
Athena was about to grab Poseidon's neck when Zeus boomed, "STOP! GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE ATHENA!"
"BUT HE DUMPED WATER ON ME!"
"DOESN'T MATTERS! GO BACK TO YOUR PLACE!"
"First tell him to dry me then only will I go." She said like a five year old.
"FINE! POSEIDON!" Zeus snapped, "DRY HER!"
Poseidon unwillingly dried Athena.
Zeus now looked a bit calm and ordered Apollo to continue with his reading.
"Well, I certainly think so. But the audition, you know…it's a formality. I'm afraid it would be very difficult. Are you sure you don't just want to kill me?"
"Stop saying that!" Arachne screeched. "What must I make?"
"I'll show you." Annabeth unslung her backpack. She took out Daedalus' laptop and opened it. The delta logo glowed in the dark.
"What is that?" Arachne asked. "Some sort of loom?"
"In a way," Annabeth said. "It's for weaving ideas. It holds a diagram of the artwork you would build."
Her fingers trembled on the keyboard. Arachne lowered herself to peer directly over Annabeth's shoulder. Annabeth couldn't help thinking how easily those needle-like teeth could sink into her neck.
She opened her 3-D imaging program. Her last design was still up—the key to Annabeth's plan, inspired by the most unlikely muse ever: Frank Zhang.
"Why is that so?" Ares questioned, as puzzled as ever.
He didn't receive any answer.
Annabeth did some quick calculations. She increased the dimensions of the model, then showed Arachne how it could be created—strands of material woven into strips, then braided into a long cylinder.
The golden light from the screen illuminated the spider's face. "You want me to make that? But this is nothing! So small and simple!"
"The actual size would be much bigger," Annabeth cautioned. "You see these measurements? Naturally it must be large enough to impress the gods. It may look simple, but the structure has incredible properties. Your spider silk would be the perfect material—soft and flexible, yet hard as steel."
"I see…" Arachne frowned. "But this isn't even a tapestry."
"Of course it isn't you blithering idiot."
"That's why it's a challenge. It's outside your comfort zone. A piece like this—an abstract sculpture—is what the gods are looking for. It would stand in the entry hall of the Olympian throne room for every visitor to see. You would be famous forever!"
"Yeah sure! As if she could ever be famous for anything good."
Demeter nodded gravely, "Yes, she lacks cereal."
"Oh you and your cereal. Please stop." Shouted Hades, covering his ears with his hands.
Arachne made a discontented hum in her throat. Annabeth could tell she wasn't going for the idea. Her hands started to feel cold and sweaty.
"Oh, don't lose courage Annabeth. You must fight."
The Gods were so confused about Athena's sudden change in mood. They were sure that Athena had gone mad.
"This would take a great deal of web," the spider complained. "More than I could make in a year."
Annabeth had been hoping for that. She'd calculated the mass and size accordingly. "You'd need to unravel the statue," she said. "Reuse the silk."
"Annabeth is extremely clever. After revealing the statue she will get at least some protection." Said Artemis.
Arachne seemed about to object, but Annabeth waved at the Athena Parthenos like it was nothing. "What's more important—covering that old statue or proving your artwork is the best? Of course, you'd have to be incredibly careful. You'd need to leave enough webbing to hold the room together. And if you think it's too difficult—"
"I didn't say that!"
"Okay. It's just…Athena said that creating this braided structure would be impossible for any weaver, even her. So if you don't think you can—"
Apollo whistled in appreciation, "That's quite a thing to say to motivate that monster to work for her. I am impressed."
"Athena said that?"
"Well, yeah."
"Ridiculous! I can do it!"
"Great! But you'd need to start right away, before the Olympians choose another artist for their installations."
Arachne growled. "If you are tricking me, girl—"
"You'll have me right here as a hostage," Annabeth reminded her. "It's not like I can go anywhere. Once this sculpture is complete, you'll agree that it's the most amazing piece you've ever done. If not, I will gladly die."
"Hmm. Not bad. I like where this is leading to. Hephaestus? Excellent plan, isn't it?"
"Yes, Athena, I must say, amazing plan. If it has the exact measurement, then it would be amazing!"
"What are they speaking about?" Dionysus said.
"Something which they have understood and we haven't." Poseidon replied back.
Arachne hesitated. Her barbed legs were so close, she could've impaled Annabeth with a quick swipe.
"Fine," the spider said. "One last challenge—against myself!"
"Let's really hope it is the last challenge you face." Said Zeus.
The other gods couldn't agree more.
Arachne climbed her web and began to unravel the Athena Parthenos.
"And that's the end of this chapter." Grinned Apollo.
ΩΩΩΩΩ
I hope you all liked the chapter. Don't worry, I'll upload the next two chapters for this story and then done!
As usual, please everyone who reads this story, please, please, please, please, please review! Every one!
Enjoy!
-Pernos Forever…