I'll admit that it probably wasn't the best use of money to reserve VIP treatment on a luxury train trip to LA, but since we're rich enough to fill Olympic grade swimming pools with diamonds, nobody said a word.

Before we left the hotel, we all managed to have a shower and get changed. Luke dragged us all to the nearest mall for good, sturdy clothes. I refused to remove Drew's gifts even in the face of Luke's long-suffering pleas, but I did get changed into a new top, pants, and running shoes. I even got a nice, bullet-proof jacket once I convinced Annabeth to let us splurge on modern armour. Hey, if you're rich and on a quest to stop World War 3, you get the good stuff.

We got to take a nap on the train and rack up the meal bill (Hmmm, professional-grade Lasagna). A couple of discreet bills and Luke smiling suavely at the lady serving us got us breaking the law by way of underage drinking. I tried to snatch his wine bottle several times but alas, his reflexes are much faster than mine. The sucker didn't see me swiping the vodka, so there's that.

As time wore on, Luke began kind of wallowing, kind of downing the entire wine bottle by himself. I told him to share it before he got himself drunk but Annabeth quickly scolded me and pointed out that a drunk Daughter of Poseidon was not a good idea. I only had one thing to say to that.

Swiping the bottle from an inebriated Luke was only mildly easier than a sober Luke, but I quickly glugged down the remainder as fast as I could before smacking my lips smugly in the face of a gobsmacked Annabeth.

"Daughter of Poseidon and purification powers for the win, bitches."

The look on her face when she realised that alcohol didn't have much of an effect on me unless I wanted it to was one for the scrapbook.

After barely refraining from getting out my vodka and chugging the whole thing right in front of them, I sagged a bit as the nervous atmosphere sank its claws in again. Annabeth once again repolished her knife, and Luke returned to silent brooding.

I was the only one mostly calm, and if you've been paying attention at all, you'd know how Twilight Zone it is.

Barely an hour later, Annabeth tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but I didn't listen. I knew the plan; get to the DOA Studios, charm Charon, walk right in and talk to uncle. I have no idea what to say to uncle, but I'll burn that bridge when I get to it.

At sunset, the train dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Luke, Annabeth, and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea.

It was beautiful. My Pai had authority over a lot of things; oceans, seas, water, hurricanes, and earthquakes. Sea, land and air. Me being his daughter, the world may as well be my oyster. Here I am though- just chilling and slumming away on a quest.

Wait, fuck. Existential crisis, go away until I'm middle-aged damn it!

I stepped into the surf.

"Ophelia?" Annabeth questioned. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking. The salty water got up to my waist, then my chest.

Luke called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There are all kinds of toxic-"

That's when my head went under.

I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even feel the currents, warm and cold extremities swirling together.

I felt something rub against my leg. When I looked down, I nearly had a mini heart-attack. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark.

Thankfully, it wasn't in the mood to eat me. Instead it was nuzzling me, heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down into the darkness.

It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sandbank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight; not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there.

The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. Distantly, I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe without my godly blood. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific. Nobody would find me there. Well, close to nobody.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me.

A woman's voice, like my mother's, called: "Persephone Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, and absolutely rocked a dress made of green silk. Lights glimmered around her in playful flickers. Her eyes were so distractingly beautiful that I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding. She dismounted. The seahorse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like Tag.

The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Persephone Jackson. Well done."

"Thanks ma'am." I gave her a crooked smile. "Nice to see you again."

It wasn't really that nice, considering that she knew stuff she really, really shouldn't, but I was in a good mood.

"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."

"You serve in Pai's court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born, and never a Half-Blood daughter. We have watched you with great interest."

My hands twitched towards Riptide at that. "You better have not. Haven't you heard of what I did when the gods thought they could grab entertainment from my life?" I murmured softly.

She stills, her eyes darting nervously to the side. "We have. I apologise, we shouldn't have done so."

"No, you shouldn't have," I bit out coldly, before straightening. "Where's my Pai? How bad is the fallout of this war?"

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."

That's not what I fucking asked. Ugh, I don't hate my Pai, I want to help him. Why does everyone think I have daddy issues?

"Especially not to his children. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift." She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"

"I have the talent of not dying nor staying dead despite wanting to die." I snarked.

She looked completely thrown off. "Oh, ah-" she stuttered, confused but attempting to compose herself. "That's… You have something else, Persephone. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to womanhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you distrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave. Keep faith. Good luck, Persephone Jackson." She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

Great, that wasn't as helpful as I wished. At least I got the pearls, though I don't have enough to save Mãe.

And I know exactly how much I scared the gods.

Fuck, today is not my day. I sighed and massaged my temples.

Good mood. Keep a good mood. Don't blow up again.

I shot upward toward the shore, the currents heeding my will.

oOo

When I reached the beach, my clothes dried instantly. I told Luke and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

"No Annabeth," I stressed. "These are a gift from my Pai. No price. I know."

Her mouth went into a little 'o' when she realised what I meant.

"Not everything is bad, guys. Sometimes things are good," I tried to consolidate.

Luke looked like he really doubted that, but considering the fact that in Canon he nearly destroyed Olympus because he was being emo over his daddy issues, any argument he has is invalid.

We took the bus into West Hollywood. I told the driver where we needed to go, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on TV," he told me. "You a child actor or something?"

"My mom's an actress, I look a lot like her."

"Oh! That explains it."

We thanked him and got off quickly at the next stop.

We wandered for miles on foot, looking for DOA. Nobody seemed to know where it was. It didn't appear in the phone book. Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars. I'm so fucking tired.

Just as I was about to suggest a meal-run, I froze in front of an appliance-store window. A television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar; my stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters, like he was some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

Who's that? She's so young. Oh gross, did he join his poker buddies paedophilia? He'd better not; I'm already going to kill him, but I can make it worse.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepdaughter took everything I cared about. My wife ... my Camaro ... I-I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

Sugar? That sounds like a hooker's name. Wait, how are people listening to this without question? Gods, I kinda miss the days where if you've never been in the media spotlight for even one fucking second then you can get cancelled. I wish to see Gabe cancelled so fucking bad.

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent girl with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Annabeth, and Luke standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Persephone Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"Hey," Luke said softly, hand gently patting my shoulder. "C'mon, ignore that."

"I'm going to murder him," I said casually, which is probably concerning, coming from a 4'10" preteen girl and all. "He won't live to see my birthday."

"What?" Annabeth spoke, concerned.

"Unless, of course, Mãe wants to do it," I corrected myself.

"Ophelia, murder is still concerning," Luke told me.

I elbowed him. "Oh, as if you weren't going to murder people too if I didn't stop you."

"I'm on a quest with insane people," Annabeth muttered.

"Yep!" I cheered, smiling wide.

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now don't get me wrong, I'm a New Yorker- I don't scare easily. L.A. wasn't New York; it had a totally different feel that sent all the wrong signals. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get just about anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as they weren't stupid.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out. The whole place was just chaotic enough that moving around was like trying to walk in a mirror maze without finding a deadend. Honestly, it reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find the entrance to the Underworld.

We walked past gangbangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Luke turned, glared, and bared his teeth. "Don't you fucking dare, brat."

The group of six young teens immediately backed off.

I let out a low whistle. Hot damn. With his scar, height, and muscles- he really does come off as terrifying.

I snickered at the description, and then I spotted it.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. In loopy writing, it proclaimed: 'CRUSTY'S WATERBED PALACE.'

"Want to fight another monster?" I absently asked as I jogged towards it. "I just found one. Oh, we can steal his drachmas!"

"Ophelia, no."

"Ophelia, yes!"

We entered the monster lair.

oOo

"Helloooo?" I called. "Is there anyone in here?"

Standing in front of us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to.

His suit might've come from the Lotus Casino. It belonged back in the seventies, big-time. The shirt was silk paisley, unbuttoned halfway down his hairless chest. The lapels on his velvet jacket were as wide as landing strips. The silver chains around his neck- I couldn't even count them.

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

"Wow." I plastered an innocent smile. "Has anyone ever told you that you look remarkably like Alex Brightman in Beetlejuice?"

His eyes lit up, he puffed up in pride. "No, they haven't! You're too kind, kid."

Not a fucking compliment, dude.

"Thanks, sir."

"So what can I do for you kiddos today?" He slowly measured us up, and he grossly licked his lips.

"Just browsing," I chirped.

Luke moved closer to me, tense as a spring. Annabeth had her hand on her cap.

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

He took my bait, clapping a large paw on my shoulder to drag me around.

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway."

"That's so kind of you!" I say, making no move towards the bed. "But it's not my style."

"No?"

"I'm not one for Lava Lamps. They're very you though."

"Ha!" he chuckled."It is, isn't it?"

"It looks very soft," I marveled. "I bet if you marketed it people would flock to your store."

"Now that's an idea," he mused, slightly too gnarled hand coming up to scratch his chin.

"Say, how far would it dip if someone you-sized were to sit on it? I mean, I would try, but I'm hardly one to use for comparison. I'm what you could call petite."

"Oh, well-" He grinned eagerly as he sat down.

I clicked my fingers.

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Crusty, holding him to the mattress.

"What the-?" he began to yell, but I cut him off with a swing of my sword.

Dusting my clothes off, I turned around to face my companions.

"Sorry, he gave me huge pedo vibes. There was no way I wasn't going to go after him." My words said one thing, but the triumphant smirk said otherwise.

Luke sighed, moving his hand away from the hilt of his sword. "You're going to be the death of me."

Annabeth was a bit more direct in the way she just smacked me in the chest. "You're so stupid seaweed brain."

"Love you too!" I called, already turning to raid the cupboards. "Now, do you want more drachmas or not? Oh yeah, and should we order some of the beds for Camp?"

a/n

Izzy: Hey y'all! We're finally reaching the climax of the story! Yay! And yeah, I do picture Broadway's Beetlejuice when I think of Crusty. Please, don't yell at me in the comments- I know some of y'all actually think he's hot. I've listened to 'Creepy Old Guy'.

Raven: I dunno, this all feels like filler, no matter how hard we tried to make it interesting. Meh. The Underworld's coming up next tho, so there's that to look forward to.

Izzy: True. I can't wait to write the underworld scene!

EDIT/IMPORTANT: is glitching right now and I can't reply to any of your reviews, though I can see them! If you have questions about the story that are pressing, you can dm me, other than that we'll have to wait until fixes this issue