Chapter 11: I Dream My Way Across Three States

OoOoOoO

I dreamt of a woman in a golden glass ball. She was as still as one of Aunty Em's statues, frozen with her mouth wide open in a scream. Unlike the statues, though, she was flesh, not stone, and accordingly, her face was a million times more expressive. Her eyes were wide with fear, but I got the sense that she wasn't terrified for herself. She had a half-pleading look, like she wanted to beg for mercy for someone else.

A gloved hand waved over the ball and it shrank to about the size of the lawn globe I had given Percy to reflect Medusa's image. The owner of the hand held the glass ball, now with miniature woman, and stared at it thoughtfully. Dark flames danced dangerously in his eyes.

'So you failed to retrieve it,' he said. 'Again.'

I knew the old lady standing before him. Well, I knew she wasn't actually an old lady, but she was back in her human disguise—our friend Orange-Hat the Fury, with the same grizzled face and demonic eyes. And I knew who she was reporting to: her boss, the Lord of the Underworld. If she hadn't tried to kill us, I might have felt sorry for her. Hades wasn't the sort of god you wanted to turn in a failed report to.

Of course, this was the god who had sent hellhounds and Furies after me when I was seven (okay, after Thalia, but same difference), and again now. I was completely okay with her not succeeding at something he wanted done.

'I searched their things. It wasn't in there.' She flicked her hand, the way you might release a bowling ball, and three bags rolled out of nowhere onto the floor before Hades. I recognised our backpacks. Tin cans spilled out of Grover's.

Hades made a furious slash with his free hand. Orange-Hat winced, but he only incinerated the three packs. Grover's tin cans threw sparks around like mini fireworks.

'I will return again!' Orange-Hat said quickly.

'Forget it!' Hades said. 'The boy is craftier than we expected. No matter. He will come, in the end.' He twirled the glass ball in his palm and studied it. 'Yes, I am sure of it. Percy Jackson will come, and he will bring it to me. After all, I have what he wants.'

I got a good look at him sitting there on his ornate throne—so much grander than the temporary seat the Olympians had given him at their winter council—made of obsidian inlaid with diamonds and raised on a pedestal of bones. Then the scene changed and I was in the woods of Camp Half-Blood. There must have been a game of capture the flag going on because the campers were decked out in blue and red armour, though their faces were shadowed by their helmets so I couldn't tell who was who.

The two banners were standards that had never in my memory flown in a game. One was painted a light sea-green and bore a silver trident and a horse. The other was rippling gold and carried a giant eagle whose wings spanned the entire banner. A lightning bolt marched down the centre.

Poseidon and Zeus.

I stood between the two standard-bearers, uncertain as to which team I should join. The natural choice was to gather under Zeus's standard; Athena always opposed Poseidon. But something kept me wavering. It was like being back in the statuary, with equal forces compelling me to trust Aunty Em and escape Medusa.

I felt torn. I took a step towards the Zeus banner, but when I looked back over my shoulder, there was Percy, holding up the flag of Poseidon. His eyes, the same colour as the flag, gazed hauntingly at me.

'We're a team, right?' he said, except for a second, he was also Luke, mouthing, we're a family, right? His image flickered and suddenly he was Thalia, growing roots beneath his feet.

I turned around and fled along the creek, back towards the cabins.

I stopped at the edge of the woods. Someone had hung a bench swing from one of the tree branches. My heart gave a funny skip when I recognised Luke, pushing himself back and forth wit one foot, deep in thought, his sandy hair rustling in the wind. He was actually staring straight at me, though of course he couldn't see me, not in the dream.

A girl came down the path that led from the cabins. She was tall and slim and her blond hair shone like silk in the moonlight. She was one of those perfect-looking cabin ten girls: flawless make-up, not a curl out of place. Her eyes were a bright, alluring blue, the colour of forget-me-nots. One of the Aphrodite girls—Silena Beauregard. She waved at Luke and he responded with the steady, reassuring smile that warmed my heart. This time it only made me cringe, hoping I wasn't witnessing a pre-arranged meeting.

'You're out late,' Silena said. 'Camp leader, almost breaking curfew?' Her voice was teasing, with just the right hint of playfulness. I didn't remember her being particularly close to him. Had they struck up a friendship since I'd left?

'Just thinking,' Luke said.

'Must be deep thoughts, huh,' Silena said. 'Want to tell me about them?' She lifted one eyebrow invitingly. I wondered if she was charmspeaking, too. Some of the Aphrodite girls had the power, but I couldn't remember if she was one of them.

'Oh, er, nothing much,' Luke said. 'Camp stuff.'

'The fighting, you mean?' She sighed. 'Do you think Percy Jackson will be able to stop it? With that quest he's on?'

Luke's eyes darkened. 'Hard to say.'

'You must be worried about them. I heard the girl who went with them—Annabeth, she's a good friend of yours, isn't she?'

My heart pounded, waiting for his reply. It took a while—too long—for him to answer.

'Yeah,' he said finally. Then, to my intense disappointment (and mild chagrin), he changed the subject. 'You're looking nice tonight.'

Silena blushed. 'Thanks.'

'And you're right about curfew. Come on, I'll walk you back to your cabin.' He jumped down from the swing and offered her his arm, which she took with a giggle.

I was debating whether I should follow them when I felt a cool hand on my shoulder. I turned, and there was my mother, or at least a shimmering, insubstantial image of her. I didn't know how she managed to touch me in her ghostly form.

I bowed.

She shook her head at me. 'Emotions are messy, daughter. Leave them behind. You must uncover the truth.'

'What truth? I don't understand.'

But she faded away. A dryad skipped out from the tree where Luke's swing hung, with a silver flute in her hands. She brought it to her lips, but instead of a lilting melody, the rough semblance of a jarring pop tune came out, peppered with a bunch of wrong notes.

I was awake for a few minutes before I realised that the horrible music was Grover practising on his reed pipes. I grabbed a snack pack from the bag of supplies we'd scrounged from Medusa's lair and threw it at him. His playing stopped.

'What's that supposed to do, send monsters into a feeding frenzy?' I said.

'Ha ha,' Grover said.

The sun was high above the trees, but that didn't mean much in the middle of summer. It could just as well be five in the morning as nine am. Percy was still asleep, muttering under his breath. I guessed his dreams were about as restful as mine.

'Did you get any sleep?' I asked Grover.

He shook his head. 'It's okay. I'm not that tired. We ought to get moving once Percy wakes up. Only nine days left to get the bolt.'

'About that …'

'What?'

'You know how were were saying yesterday that something didn't seem right? With Medusa and the Kindly Ones?' I told him about my dream and Hades's certainty that Percy would bring him what he wanted.

'It really sounds like he doesn't have the bolt. But why would he think Percy has it?'

I glanced at Percy, still fast asleep but moaning like a zombie. 'He doesn't, does he?'

'Of course not. We'd know. Anyway, all our things were on that bus.'

'Yeah. Right.' It was a stupid thought. If Percy had wanted to strike a bargain with Hades, he'd had plenty of opportunity to do so. He didn't have to fight Furies and Medusa to save our arses. He could have just handed over what Hades wanted. It was just that, we had no other leads. Like Grover had said, the summer solstice was in nine days. If Hades wasn't the thief, how would we ever find the real one?

'Maybe it's something else he wants, in addition to the bolt he already has,' Grover suggested.

'Maybe,' I said. 'I guess we stick to the plan. Keep heading for L.A. It's …' I looked around blankly. The road ran along on our right. We could hitchhike, but that probably wasn't the safest thing to do even as mortals. Plus, I wasn't keen on being inside a tiny enclosed vehicle with a stranger again.

On our left, the woods ran downhill. I could make out a pair of faint lines at the bottom, glinting in the sun. A railway track. Maybe there was a station nearby. Trying to sneak onto a train would be really tough, though.

Grover got to his feet. 'You watch over Percy. I'm going to see if I can find a dryad to talk to or something. They might have some ideas.'

While he was gone, I sorted through the supplies we'd taken from Aunty Em's. It wasn't much: a handful of snacks from her bar (I popped open a bag of Cheetos for breakfast), the blankets we'd slept on, twenty bucks and a handful of drachmas. I hoped Grover managed to find us some help. Golden drachmas were useless in the mortal world and twenty dollars wouldn't get us very far.

Fifteen minutes later, Grover returned with the most unexpected guide ever: a bubble-gum-pink poodle. Its' fur was matted and snarled, and it seemed to have picked up a collection of loose twigs and assorted dirt, all of which were tangled in its curls. It trotted obediently at Grover's heels, yapping occasionally as if responding to him. As they got close enough for me to hear Grover talking, I realised the poodle was actually replying him. I'd forgotten that satyrs could speak the language of all animals. There weren't exactly many pets at camp for them to demonstrate the skill.

'Gladiola, this is Annabeth. Annabeth, Gladiola.'

The poodle—Gladiola—barked at me.

'Uh, hi,' I said. 'Nice to meet you.'

Gladiola sniffed at me, then looked at Grover as if to say, yeah, she's all right, I guess.

'Gladiola says he'll help us,' Grover said. 'He can get us some cash.'

'What?' I stared at Gladiola, perplexed, wondering if he maybe had dollar bills hidden somewhere under the rubbish he'd collected in his fur.

'He's got a $200 reward on him,' Grover explained. 'If we return him to his owners, we get enough for a train fare west.'

'You're kidding,' I said. I looked at Gladiola. 'You don't want to go back, do you?'

Gladiola tossed his head from side to side and gave a long bark.

'He says not really, but he gets that we're in a pinch,' Grover translated.

'Wow. Well, um, thanks, Gladiola. That's real kind of you.'

Percy shuddered and rolled over in his sleep. 'No, won't—won't help …'

I decided it was time for him to rejoin the land of the living. I put a hand on his shoulder and shook him roughly.

'Ungh,' he said. Then he opened his eyes, looking disoriented.

'Well, the zombie lives.' Now that we had a plan again, I felt lots more cheerful.

He pushed himself shakily into a sitting position. 'How long was I asleep?'

I shrugged. 'Long enough for me to cook breakfast.' I rummaged in the plastic bag of snacks and passed him the first one that came to hand.

As he ate, we introduced him to Gladiola and explained the plan. For some reason, he got a bit uptight about the idea of talking to a poodle. I couldn't speak dog like Grover, but I think the feeling was mutual.

I made Percy carry our Medusa-store supplies and follow behind us as Grover and I brought Gladiola back to his delighted owners. Before long, we were $200 richer—for about half an hour, at least, until we splurged it all on Amtrak tickets. Unfortunately, tickets to Los Angeles cost twice what we had.

'We could split up,' Grover said uncertainly. 'Two of us keep going …'

'No,' I said firmly. 'We can get as far as Denver. It's close enough, we'll figure something out from there.'

'We're a team,' Percy agreed. 'No one gets left behind.'

Our eyes met. For a second, I felt a sense of security, like someone had thrown a warm, fuzzy blanket over my shoulders.

I shrugged it off. 'Come on. We've got a train to catch.'

OoOoO

The Amtrak line wound south first, through Philadelphia, which was an architectural heaven. I hadn't had the chance to see it before—Luke, Thalia and I had hugged the Jersey coast on our journey north—so I relished my first views of Philly's landmarks when the train slowed moving into and out of the city. I got a good close-up of the Customs House, which was one of the early tribute to the gods that had spurred their western migration to America. It had been designed by another child of Athena, back in the 1800s. He'd used the Partenon as his model, and I admired the fluted doric columns (eight, just like the original) that frame the entrance steps.

'It was designed in a contest,' I told Grover and Percy excitedly. 'All the designs submitted had to be in Greek style. Of course it won—the Parthenon is the ultimate temple of Athena.'

'Uh huh,' Grover said sleepily. He was nodding off after having been up all night.

We continued on through the plains of Pennsylvania, and the sights turned to wide farmlands. I began to wish I had my book with me. Two days of travelling was a long time, and without something to focus my mind on, I was feeling kind of agitated.

For a while, I occupied myself with various newspapers other passengers had discarded. They didn't have very cheerful information. Percy's picture was splashed across the front pages, under headlines like 'DISTURBED TEEN TOP SUSPECT IN KIDNAP CASE', and 'NEW TWIST IN JACKSON STORY: BUS HIJACKED IN NEW JERSEY'. In one particularly helpful version, the title screamed, 'REWARD OFFERED FOR JACKSON AND ACCOMPLICES'.

I didn't think that the mortal police would catch us—the Mist could be helpful that way—but it still wasn't fun to have a bounty on our heads.

The sky was darkening as we crossed over into Ohio, trundling just south of Lake Erie. I watched the golden rays of the setting sun dance over the water and thought about the temple I wanted to design someday—a monument that could stand in tribute to all the gods, uniting all their facades. Something big. Something amazing. Demigods in the future would marvel at it years after I was gone and tell each other, a daughter of Athena designed that.

It would be my legacy.

'No,' Percy murmured, 'I won't help you.'

He sounded so adamant in his refusal, I nearly snapped that I hadn't asked for his help. Then I realised he wasn't talking to me—he had dozed off, too, sitting between me and Grover. His head drooped to the side, nearly falling on my shoulder. I nudged him back upright.

'Blaaa-haa-haa,' Grover snorted. He kicked out at Percy as though in response to Percy's sleep-talking and one of the fake feet he wore came loose. It hinged off his hoof, swinging for a second, and then clattered to the floor. I grabbed it quickly.

Amazingly, Grover stayed asleep. Percy blinked awake, though.

'What—?'

A woman coming down the train aisle looked suspiciously at us. I planted myself between her and Grover so she couldn't see his hooves. She carried on.

Percy sized up the situation pretty quick. He dropped to his knees to help me get the plastic foot, with its scruffy trainer, back over Grover's hoof. Then he put a hand on his neck, massaging it. He looked troubled, like he'd seen something that worried him. I wondered if he'd had a dream like mine.

'So who wants your help?' I said casually.

'What do you mean?'

I told him what I'd overheard him saying in his sleep.

Percy was silent for such a long time, I thought he'd gone straight back to sleep. Finally, he said, 'I heard … well, it was just a voice. I couldn't see who it was, Hades, I guess. He was in a sort of pit and it was all smoky, like ghosts were all around. He said I'd been misled, and that we could barter. He showed me—well, he showed me my mom.'

I thought of the woman in the glass ball in my dream. I hadn't consciously made the connection before, but I knew without a doubt it was true—Hades had Percy's mom. After all, I have what he wants.

It fit with Percy's dream, but also not quite. For one, I didn't understand the thing about the pit. Hades had been in his palace, on his throne. I definitely remembered a ceiling overhead.

'He wanted the bolt,' Percy continued. 'He said I could help him rise, that we could strike against the gods. Um, the other gods, I guess. And he laughed and tried to tug me down.'

Another thing that didn't make sense. If Hades wanted to barter with Percy, why wouldn't he show himself, strong and powerful on his Underworld throne? And the laughter …

'That doesn't sound like Hades,' I said, shaking my head. 'He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs.'

'He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?'

Percy had a point there. Hades did have his mom; our dreams both agreed on that point. And as Lord of the Underworld, he had the power to release her, if she was still alive. But we didn't have what he wanted in trade, and how would Zeus's lightning bolt help him rise, anyway?

'I guess, if he meant, "Help me rise from the Underworld." If he wants war with the Olympians. But,' and here was the part that was most confusing of all, 'why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?' Unless it was a trick—maybe what Hades really wanted was something else, like Grover had suggested, and he was using Percy's mom as bait to get Percy to bring him … I don't know, maybe something that would make the bolt work. That might explain why his Furies were searching us, rather than killing us outright.

Percy didn't reply. But there was a grim, determined look on his face that I didn't quite like.

'Percy, you can't barter with Hades. You know that, right? He's deceitful, heartless and greedy. I don't care if his Kindly Ones weren't as aggressive this time—'

'This time? You mean you've run into them before?'

I felt a lump in my throat, thinking of Thalia. 'Let's just say I've got no love for the Lord of the Dead,' I said in a hard voice. 'You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom.'

Percy looked at me incredulously. 'What would you do if it was your dad?'

The question felt like a kick in the stomach. I thought of the last time I'd been back home, two years ago after my dad had written a beautiful letter enclosing his gold college ring—'a reminder of the time I spent with your mother'—and pleading for me to come home, at least for a visit.

My old room still had the cobwebs.

The memory stung.

'That's easy,' I told Percy. 'I'd leave him to rot.'

'You're not serious?'

I was jealous of the pure disbelief in his voice, the way he couldn't even fathom giving up his mortal parent. How incredibly lucky he was to have a mom who he could love that deeply. My experience with parents was quite the opposite. I'll admit my story wasn't as bad as Luke and Thalia's—from what they had told me, I knew their moms had actually been batshit crazy—but it was no picnic being the unwanted black sheep of the family, either.

I still remembered all the little things that had tormented me. Even at seven, I'd known my dad hadn't wanted me, not at all, from the day Athena delivered me to him.

I didn't remember that part personally, of course, but I'd seen it in dreams, and a memory of my father and stepmother talking about it backed it up.

'A child, Janet, just like that. As if I could put aside everything and raise a kid when I'd just gotten the junior lecturer position.'

'Couldn't she have done, I don't know, shared custody or something?'

'Apparently it's just not done—heroes have to be raised mortal.'

'Heroes. A five-year old.'

'I wished she'd warned me about the monsters that would come after her. If I'd known …'

Percy was still gaping at me. It wasn't really his business, but I couldn't stand that he might be thinking me heartless and cruel.

'My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy. He never wanted a baby.' I explained about his desire to send me back, his reluctance to keep me, the new family he'd finally got himself. I was supposed to be a miracle baby, a gift from the gods like in the stories. Only in the stories, when Zephyr sent the golden cradle to earth, it was always well received. I was the only unwanted demigod child.

Percy was silent for a while. Then he said, tentatively, 'My mom married a really awful guy. Grover said she did it to protect me, to hide me in the scent of a human family. Maybe … maybe that's what your dad was thinking.'

My fingers halted right over the gold ring on my necklace. I hadn't even realised they'd drifted up to it.

Percy's view of things was so naïve. Luke and Thalia had taken my story as a matter of course. They knew what it was like to have parents who didn't care. You're better off without them, they'd assured me. They don't understand. Maybe Percy had a horrible stepfather. But he still knew what it was like to be loved.

'He doesn't care about me,' I said harshly, although my memory was now unhelpfully supplying me with fuzzy recollections of being flown about a tiny room like a plane, and taught how to read—a promise: I know it's hard, but remember that you're the daughter of wisdom herself. You'll get it. I pushed them aside. Dad had gone back on all of that when he married Janet and let her take over all the parenting duties.

I remembered her methods just fine.

'His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak,' I said. I remembered Janet's unending exasperation at my learning disabilities, the notes I'd bring home from school, and the monsters that kept coming back, especially when my stepbrothers came along. She and Dad hadn't wanted me putting Bobby and Matthew in danger. I didn't really blame them—I'd felt so guilty for always attracting trouble.

The spiders had been the last straw. They'd swarmed my room night after night, and alone in the dark, I believed that anything would be better than staying unwanted and forsaken in my household.

I didn't share that part with Percy, though. The spiders were a little too personal.

'How old were you?'

'Same age as when I started camp. Seven.'

Percy's eyes widened. 'But … you couldn't have got all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself?' He looked a little awestruck.

'Not alone, no,' I said. I'd had my mom's guidance in my head, a voice telling me where to go, but I wouldn't have lasted long if Thalia and Luke hadn't found me. 'I made a couple of unexpected friends who took care of me …' Finding them had been the best thing that ever happened to me, but it was also a painful memory. Because it hadn't lasted. 'For a short time, anyway,' I finished.

It had all ended in tragedy.

I turned away, angry at Percy for making me relive all of this. I guessed he got the hint, because he stopped asking me questions. I looked out the window and watched the cornfields zip by in a teary blur, until my eyelids drooped and I fell into dreams where I was seven years old and running from my childhood monsters again.

OoOoOoOoO

A/N: An update at last! Sorry about the wait while I've been away. However, I have good news to those of you following this story-after a crazy November, I'm finally going to be getting back to updating this fic more regularly, so weekly or even bi-weekly updates should be coming along in the coming weeks! Also, NaNoWriMo is going really well and I've been working on more of Annabeth's perspective of canon for that, so although that piece will need a load of editing before it sees the light of day, there will be more to come even when I finish this story. (Yeah, I know it's weird not writing everything chronologically, but NaNo had to be November, so ... yeah.)

Anyway, thanks to those of you who are still hanging in there with this story. Big thank you especially to Mystery Master, OverLordRevan, and percabeca for your comments! I've been very amiss about replying in the past weeks, but I really appreciate your taking the time to leave me a kind word!