Hey guys,

I JUST GOT BRACES! Eep! My mouth hurts :(

I'm trying to get into a better writing schedule, but it's getting hard, I may even have to put this on hiatus, but if I do, I know I'll never start again, so fingers crossed.

WARNING: a little more mature language in this chappie, but if you aren't prepared for that, why are you reading a 'T' rated story? :P

Enjoy!

. . .

Chapter Four: Hi, I'm Annie Johnson

My trip through Olympus was a daze. I passed a bunch of giggling wood nymphs, who threw olives at us as me and Percy—sorry, Percy and I—from their gardens; Percy assured me that it was a greeting or pray or something, so I didn't storm up there and cut someone for getting olive oil on my New York Giants jumper. Hawkers in the market offered to sell me ambrosia-on-a-stick, a new shield, and a genuine glitter-weave replica of the Golden Fleece ("You can tell that it's fake," Percy muttered. "I've seen the real thing, and it looks nothing like that.") The nine muses (I tried to name them all…yeah, didn't happen) were tuning their instruments for a concert in the park while a small crowd gathered—satyrs and naiads and a bunch of good-looking teenagers that were probably minor gods and goddesses.

Like a switch, festive atmosphere seemed to turn off as we walked past, the random chatter and occasional bursts of laughter swapped for muttering and low bows. It was unnerving to say the least, and I couldn't help but feel that Percy didn't overly enjoy it either, but he continued to forge ahead. Up to the throne room. Up. The very big mountain. The very big, steep mountain.

Oh gods, and I thought Etna was hard.

"Why can't the elevator go all the way up to the top of the mountain?" I huffed as we were halfway up.

Percy smirked at my fatigue, being all godly he didn't get tired walking up Olympus, "Come on, it's not that far!"

I looked at him incredulously, "Yes— . . . it . . . —is!"

Percy smirked again as I continued complaining all the way up to the throne room. Even a good 150 or 200 metres away from the huge, gold incrusted double doors I could feel the imposing vibe. The throne room was absolutely huge, and I mean Grand Central Station huge, with Corinthian columns that reached all the way up into the clouds (the clouds above the clouds?). Everything seemed to have an inlay of gold or a rim of gold, or a picture in gold. It—

—oh, my gods. My mom designed this. Everything I looked at now had a different meaning. This was all my mother's work. Well, maybe not all, I suppose she would have invested quite a lot of the original design of Olympus into her new one, but it would be hard considering the period difference between . . .

See? This is what happens when your mother's an architect.

"Andy? I think it would be best if you opened the doors, first."

Startled, I looked up and . . . I was about to walk into the almost-200 metre tall doors. Un-missable. It seemed like I'd missed them. I blushed scarlet, "Shut up," I muttered as I pushed the doors open and stepped into the Throne Room.

I don't even know why they called it a throne room. It was absolutely giant, and after spending a week on the Princess Andromeda and scaling Mount Etna, I knew what 'giant' meant and this was giant. Twelve thrones were set up in a U shape, a crackling hearth positioned behind the largest seat of power. A young girl kneeled by the hearth, a jar in her hands, and another god was seated on a small (and by small, I mean not as big as the other thrones) fold out lawn chair. The twelve other gods that sat upon the thrones were silent. Before, as we were walking up the mountain, I could hear their faint conversations, but now they were deadly silent, watching Percy and I as we stepped into the sparkling gold-and-marble hall.

There were fourteen sets of eyes on me, Percy standing back at the doors. Fourteen sets of godly eyes, with varying levels of hate, confusion, hate, curiosity, ecstatic excitement and even more hate.

Well this can't be good.

I had no idea what to do. What do I say? What do I do? Do I bow? Curtsy? Juggle?

Thankfully, Percy stepped forward and saved me. "Lord Zeus," he said, bowing. I followed his lead and bowed, muttering the same. I wanted to punch Percy. He was smirking next to me, and I'm sure the gods wouldn't mind if I hit him. Actually — I looked around at the gods — one or two of them wouldn't mind hitting Percy themselves.

"Perseus," the god in front of us said — Zeus, if the massive bolt of lightning sitting next to his throne was any indication, "we're all so glad you're safe."

Looking around at the Olympians, I guessed only half of them agreed with that.

Zeus continued, "We have already heard the report of the events—" Hera huffed. I guess she'd met Alex, then. "—but we would like your record of events."

"I was unconscious for most of the proceedings, Lord Zeus . . ."

Wait, where was this going . . . ?

"—I think Andy would be the best person to ask, milord."

Every eye was back to me, some never having left. It was so quiet.

Well, at least we'd know if a pin dropped.

Zeus narrowed his eyes at me and I withheld the shudder that rode down my spine with his gaze. "So," he said, as if sentencing me to capital punishment, "this is the Andromeda Jackson that we have all been hearing about."

I didn't trust myself not to say something completely stupid, so I just nodded.

Zeus didn't look like he was affected by that information, but the other gods sure did. A very pretty woman whom I guessed was Aphrodite was sitting straight, clapping tiny, silent claps as if congratulating my existence (Percy and Annabeth and—oh, oh! Okay.) Poseidon smiled, turning to his left and smiling at Hephaestus, who was eyeing Thalassa on my wrist, as if wondering how much I'd already damaged it. Apollo smirked, probably thinking . . . well, I had no idea what Apollo was thinking, and I s'pose that's a good thing. Ares just glared at me, as if I had personally insulted his existence; (Dionysus? Yeah, Dionysus) had his left arm on the armrest, resting his head on his arm. Hermes was looking at me strangely, twisting his big stick—

It is not a big stick! A female voice scorned inside my head. I jumped in surprise, but it went unnoticed by the gods. It is called a caduceus, young lady!

It's a big stick, other voice, male, said lazily.

No it's not, George.

Yes it is, Martha.

No.

Yes.

No

Yes!

No!

YES!

NO!

YE—

"George! Martha! Quiet!" Hermes said. "You're giving me a headache!"

But gods can't get headaches, George hissed.

Shut up, George.

Instantly, the caduceus began to glow and shrink into a small cell phone. Hermes pocketed it and turned back to Zeus and Hera.

See what've done, George? You've gotten us shrunk . . . again!

I'm not listening! La la la la la la la la la!

"You're giving me a headache now," I muttered. Percy smirked.

Zeus groaned, "Ignoring the interruption."

Sorry.

"Andromeda Jackson, so far into our query of this past month's events, it has been your name that I have heard the most." Lightning cracked outside. "So, tell me, as we seem unable—" he glowered at Percy, "—to find a name to put onto the face of Lord Perseus and Annabeth Chase's kidnapper."

I looked at Percy. Was this dude serious? Okay, okay, so ZEUS, lord of lighting, honour, justice blah, blah, blah king of Olympus couldn't exactly be classed as 'dude', but really? There were . . . one, two, three, four, five people who knew . . . why hadn't Alex told Zeus anything?

"Well, Andromeda Jackson?" Zeus emphasised each syllable. "Do you know who is responsible?"

"Triton," I announced. Mutterings broke out around the hall. "Triton was responsible, Lord Zeus."

Zeus turned to Poseidon, who — for a guy who just found out his son nearly killed his other son — didn't look all too concerned. "Brother. Is this true?"

Poseidon nodded, "Yes. And before you ask, brother, no. I do not know where he is now."

"Oh, surely, Poseidon," Hades spoke up from his fold-out throne, "you can keep track of him? He surely wouldn't go far into any of our domains. Zeus?"

Watching the Elder Gods speaking was like watching an immortal version of tennis. Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth—

"Uh-hem," Hera coughed, "Darling?" She nodded towards Percy and me.

—well, it was like a tennis match, until someone changes the game.

"Yes, of course. Lord Perseus, Miss Jackson, thank you for your input on the situation. And, truly, Perseus, we are glad that you are safe."

"Thank-you, uncle," Percy nodded and bowed again.

"COUNCIL ADJOURNED!" Zeus bellowed, with a lightning clap just to make the point. The other gods, most likely already used to Zeus theatrics began disappearing ("Cover your eyes or you'll die," Percy told me just as Ares turned into his divine form), but I was frightened to see how many of the gods actually shrunk down to my size.

Were they going to speak to us? I actually have to uphold a conversation? Without sounding like an utter moron, that is.

First to reach us was Poseidon, who embraced Percy and then turned to embrace me. Wow, okay, being hugged by a god. Happens every day. Although, the last time I was this close to my grandfather I was bawling my eyes out like a two-year-old and staining his Hawaiian print shirt.

R.I.P Hawaiian Shirt. I won't miss you.

"Androm—Andy," Poseidon corrected, smiling. "I would ask 'How are you?' but I think that is a little inappropriate at this time."

"Smooth, Kelp Face," a tall, black-haired woman rolled her eyes from behind Poseidon. She turned her disconcerting gaze from Poseidon to me. The first thing that I noticed were her eyes. They were the exact same shade of I-Know-A-Million-Ways-To-Kill-You grey that my mom had, and had used on me many times in the past. But, back then they were more Clean-Your-Room-Or-I'm-Taking-Away-The-Wii grey. So this was Athena.

"My dear," she smiled, her gaze softening slightly, "I must say, you look so much like your mother."

I blushed slightly, "Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah, okay, the grandparents had their moment with the grandkid, now I wanna meet my cousin." Hermes shoved Athena out of the way (which I didn't think would ever be a good idea from the way the goddess of wisdom was glaring at the messenger god) and stood in front of me, smiling.

"Second cousin, technically," I shrugged, smirking.

Hermes returned my shrug. "Meh, who cares? Hermes, god of roads, speed, messengers, commerce, travellers, thieves and your second cousin, at your service."

"I thought you said no one cared?"

"Ooh," said Hermes, gripping my shoulder, "touché. I like this one, don't blow her up, Dio."

A chubby man who was speaking shortly with Percy groaned, "Oh, na pari I eychi! Another Johnson? I had enough with Peter!"

"Uh . . ."

Percy shook his head at me, "Don't even bother, Andy. I gave up years ago."

Dionysus frowned, "Hey, watch it, Parker. So, is this yours and Allison's kid? Annie or something?"

I sighed. Gods, it was going to be a long camp this summer.

…

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~Emily