The snake haired ladies were starting to annoy Percy.
They should have died three days ago when he dropped a crate of
bowling balls on them at the Napa Bargain Mart. They should have died
two days ago when he ran over them with a police car in Martinez. They
definitely should have died this morning when he cut off their heads in
Tilden Park.
No matter how many times Percy killed them and watched them
crumble to powder, they just kept re-forming like large evil dust bunnies. He
couldn't even seem to outrun them.
He reached the top of the hill and caught his breath. Sage was already there. Man, that girl was fast! How long since
he'd last killed them? Maybe two hours. They never seemed to stay dead longer than that.
The past few days, he'd hardly slept. He'd eaten whatever he could
scrounge—vending machine gummi bears, stale bagels, even a Jack in
the Crack burrito, which was a new personal low. His clothes were torn,
burned, and splattered with monster slime.
He and Sage had only survived this long because the two snake-haired-ladies —gorgons, they called themselves—couldn't seem to kill him either. Their claws didn't cut his skin. Their teeth broke whenever they tried to bite him.
But Percy couldn't keep going much longer. Sage was vulnerable to the snake haired ladies, and he had to protect her. Soon he'd collapse from exhaustion, and then—as hard as he was to kill, he was pretty sure the
gorgons would find a way, and sage would die too. Where to run?
Sage didn't look too happy with him. He understood. She had found him after he was traveling, and apparently was also running from the weird ladies with Bargain Mart outfits. That and an angry cop, in which she'd stolen his doughnut. (well maybe it wasn't a doughnut, she didn't confirm) He didn't know her name, she just said to call her Sage.
He scanned his surroundings. Under different circumstances, he might've enjoyed the view. To his left, golden hills rolled inland, dotted with lakes, woods, and a few herds of cows. To his right, the flatlands of
Berkeley and Oakland marched west—a vast checkerboard of neighborhoods, with several million people who probably did not want their morning interrupted by two monsters and a filthy demigod. Farther west, San Francisco Bay glittered under a silvery haze. Past that, a wall of fog had swallowed most of San Francisco, leaving just the tops of skyscrapers and the towers of the Golden Gate Bridge.
A vague sadness weighed on Percy's chest. Something told him he'd been to San Francisco before. The city had some connection to Annabeth —the only person he could remember from his past. His memory of her
was frustratingly dim. The wolf had promised he would see her again and regain his memory—if he succeeded in his journey, and successfully guarded the kid.
Should he try to cross the bay?
It was tempting. He could feel the power of the ocean just over the
horizon. Water always revived him. Salt water was the best. He'd
discovered that two days ago when he had strangled a sea monster in the
Carquinez Strait. If he could reach the bay, he might be able to make a last
stand. Maybe he could even drown the gorgons. But the shore was at least
two miles away. He'd have to cross an entire city.
He hesitated for another reason. The she-wolf Lupa had taught him to
sharpen his senses—to trust the instincts that had been guiding him south.
His homing radar was tingling like crazy now. The end of his journey was
close—almost right under his feet. But how could that be? There was
nothing on the hilltop.
Sage wore a tattered windbreaker with a charred top underneath. He didn't know her skin or hair color, she was covered in a fine layer of muck, a reasonable fashion statement.
The wind changed. Sage stiffened. Percy caught the sour scent of reptile. A hundred
yards down the slope, something rustled through the woods—snapping
branches, crunching leaves, hissing.
Gorgons.
For the millionth time, Percy wished their noses weren't so good. They
had always said they could smell them cause they were demigods—the
half-blood son of some old Roman god, and the demigod daughter of a goddess. Percy had tried rolling in mud,
splashing through creeks, even keeping air-freshener sticks in his pockets
so he'd have that new car smell; but apparently demigod stink was hard to mask. Sage also didn't care much for her looks and joined him in rolling in mud.
He scrambled to the west side of the summit. It was too steep to
descend. The slope plummeted eighty feet, straight to the roof of an
apartment complex built into the hillside. Fifty feet below that, a highway
emerged from the hill's base and wound its way toward Berkeley.
Great. No other way off the hill. He'd managed to get himself and the kid cornered.
He stared at the stream of cars flowing west toward San Francisco
and wished he were in one of them. Then he realized the highway must cut
through the hill. There must be a tunnel...right under his feet.
His internal radar went nuts. He was in the right place, just too high up.
He had to check out that tunnel. He needed a way down to the highway—
fast.
"I can do fast you know." Sage suprised him, this was the first time she talked in hours. "But I'm not going down there."
He slung off his backpack. He'd managed to grab a lot of supplies at
the Napa Bargain Mart: a portable GPS, duct tape, lighter, superglue,
water bottle, camping roll, a Comfy Panda Pillow Pet (that was Sage's), and
a Swiss army knife(also Sage's)—pretty much every tool a modern demigod could want.
But he had nothing that would serve as a parachute or a sled.
That left him two options: jump eighty feet to his and her death, or stand and
fight. Both options sounded pretty bad.
He cursed and pulled his pen from his pocket.
The pen didn't look like much, just a regular cheap ballpoint, but when
Percy uncapped it, it grew into a glowing bronze sword. The blade
balanced perfectly. The leather grip fit his hand like it had been custom
designed for him. Etched along the guard was an Ancient Greek word
Percy somehow understood: Anaklusmos—Riptide.
He'd woken up with this sword his first night at the Wolf House—two months ago? More? He'd lost track. He'd found himself in the courtyard of a burned-out mansion in the middle of the woods, wearing shorts, an
orange T-shirt, and a leather necklace with a bunch of strange clay beads.
Riptide had been in his hand, but Percy had had no idea how he'd gotten
there, and only the vaguest idea who he was. He'd been barefoot, freezing,
and confused. And then the wolves came...
Right next to him, a familiar voice jolted him back to the present:
"There you are!"
Percy stumbled away from the gorgon, almost falling off the edge of
the hill.
It was the smiley one—Beano.
Okay, her name wasn't really Beano. As near as Percy could figure, he
was dyslexic, because words got twisted around when he tried to read.
The first time he'd seen the gorgon, posing as a Bargain Mart greeter with
a big green button that read: Welcome! My name is STHENO, he'd thought
it said BEANO.
She was still wearing her green Bargain Mart employee vest over a
flower-print dress. If you looked just at her body, you might think she was
somebody's dumpy old grandmother—until you looked down and realized
she had rooster feet. Or you looked up and saw bronze boar tusks sticking
out of the corners of her mouth. Her eyes glowed red, and her hair was a
writhing nest of bright green snakes.
The most horrible thing about her? She was still holding her big silver
platter of free samples: Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners. Her platter was dented
from all the times Percyhad killed her, but those little samples looked
perfectly fine. Stheno just kept toting them across California so she could
offer Percy a snack before she killed him. Percy didn't know why she kept
doing that, but if he ever needed a suit of armor, he was going to make it
out of Crispy Cheese 'n' Wieners. They were indestructible.
"Try one?" Stheno offered.
Percy fended her off with his sword. "Where's your sister?"
"Oh, put the sword away," Stheno chided. "You know by now that even
Celestial bronze can't kill us for long. Have a Cheese 'n' Wiener! They're
on sale this week, and I'd hate to kill you on an empty stomach."
"Stheno!" The second gorgon appeared on Percy's right so fast, he
didn't have time to react. Fortunately she was too busy glaring at her sister
to pay him much attention. "I told you to sneak up on him and kill him!"
Stheno's smile wavered. "But, Euryale..." She said the nameso it
rhymed with Muriel. "Can't I give him a sample first?"
"No, you imbecile!" Euryale turned toward Percy and bared her fangs.
Except for her hair, which was a nest of coral snakes instead of green
vipers, she looked exactly like her sister. Her Bargain Mart vest, her
flowery dress, even her tusks were decorated with 50% off stickers. Her
name badge read: Hello! My name is DIE,DEMIGODSCUM!
"You've led us on quite a chase, Percy Jackson," Euryale said. "But
now you're trapped, and we'll have our revenge!"
"The Cheese 'n' Wieners are only $2.99," Stheno added helpfully.
"Grocery department, aisle three." Euryale snarled. "Stheno, the Bargain Mart was a front!
You're going native! Now, put down that ridiculous tray and help me kill
this demigod. Or have you forgotten that he's the one who vaporized
Medusa?"
Sage stepped back. Six more inches, and she'd be tumbling through
thin air. "Look, ladies, we've been over this. I don't even remember killing
Medusa. I don't remember anything! Can't we just call a truce and talk
about your weekly specials?" Percy said.
Stheno gave her sister a pouty look, which was hard to do with giant
bronze tusks. "Can we?"
"No!" Euryale's red eyes bored into Percy. "I don't care what you
remember, son of the sea god. I can smell Medusa's blood on you. It's
faint, yes, several years old, but you were the last one to defeat her. She
still has not returned from Tartarus. It's your fault!"
Percy didn't really get that. The whole "dying then returning from
Tartarus" concept gave him a headache. Of course, so did the idea that a
ballpoint pen could turn into a sword, or that monsters could disguise
themselves with something called the Mist, the fact that he was protecting a sassy 13 year old who ran like the wind, or that Percy was the son of a barnacle-encrusted god from five thousand years ago. But he did believe
it. Even though his memory was erased, he knew he was a demigod the
same way he knew his name was Percy Jackson. From his very first
conversation with Lupa the wolf, he'd accepted that this crazy messed-up
world of gods and monsters was his reality. Which pretty much sucked.
"How about we call it a draw?" he said. "I can't kill you. You can't kill me. If you're Medusa's sisters—like the Medusa who turned people to stone—shouldn't I be petrified by now?"
"Heroes!" Euryale said with disgust. "They always bring that up, just
like our mother! 'Why can't you turn people to stone? Your sister can turn
people to stone.' Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, boy! That was Medusa's
curse alone. She was the most hideous one in the family. She got all the
luck! And unfortunantly for you, we can kill your little friend!"
Stheno looked hurt. "Mother said I was the most hideous."
"Quiet!" Euryale snapped. "As for you, Percy Jackson, it's true you
bear the mark of Achilles. That makes you a little tougher to kill. But don't
worry. We'll find a way, after we feast on the young one!"
"The mark of what?"
"Achilles," Stheno said cheerfully. "Oh, he was gorgeous! Dipped in
the River Styx as a child, you know, so he was invulnerable except for a tiny
spot on his ankle. That's what happened to you, dear. Someone must've
dumped you in the Styx and made your skin like iron. But not to worry.
Heroes like you always have a weak spot. We just have to find it, and then
we can kill you. Won't that be lovely? Have a Cheese 'n' Wiener!"
Percy tried to think. He didn't remember any dip in the Styx. Then
again, he didn't remember much of anything. His skin didn't feel like iron,
but it would explain how he'd held out so long against the gorgons.
Maybe if he just fell down the mountain...would he survive? He didn't
want to risk it—not without something to slow the fall, or a sled, or...
He looked at Stheno's large silver platter of free samples.
Hmm...
"Reconsidering?" Stheno asked. "Very wise, dear. I added some
gorgon's blood to these, so your death will be quick and painless."
Percy's throat constricted. "You added your blood to the Cheese 'n' Wieners?"
"Just a little." Stheno smiled. "A tiny nick on my arm, but you're sweet
to be concerned. Blood from our right side can cure anything, you know,
but blood from our left side is deadly—"
"You dimwit!" Euryale screeched. "You're not supposed to tell him that!
He won't eat the wieners if you tell him they're poisoned!"
Stheno looked stunned. "He won't? But I said it would be quick and
painless."
"Never mind!" Euryale's fingernails grew into claws. "We'll kill him the
hard way—just keep slashing until we find the weak spot. Once we defeat Percy Jackson, we'll be more famous than Medusa! Our patron will reward
us greatly!"
Percy gripped his sword. He'd have to time his move perfectly—a few
seconds of confusion, grab the platter with his left hand...
Keep them talking, he thought.
"Before you slash me to bits," he said, "who's this patron you mentioned?"
Euryale sneered. "The goddess Gaea, of course! The one who
brought us back from oblivion! You won't live long enough to meet her, but
your friends below will soon face her wrath. Even now, her armies are marching south. At the Feast of Fortune, she'll awaken, and the demigods will be cut down like—like—"
"Like our low prices at Bargain Mart!" Stheno suggested.
"Gah!" Euryale stormed toward her sister. Percy took the opening. He
grabbed Stheno's platter, scattering poisoned Cheese 'n' Wieners, and
slashed Riptide across Euryale's waist, cutting her in half.
He raised the platter, and Stheno found herself facing her own greasy
reflection.
"Medusa!" she screamed.
"Don't even think about it." Sage grumbled.
Her sister Euryale had crumbled to dust, but she was already starting
to re-form, like a snowman un-melting. "Stheno, you fool!" she gurgled as
her half-made face rose from the mound of dust. "That's just your own
reflection! Get him!"
Percy slammed the metal tray on top of Stheno's head, and she
passed out cold.
"Gods I hate you so much" Sage said, seeing his plan.
He put the platter behind his butt, grabbed Sage and put it on his back, said a silent prayer to whatever
Roman god oversaw stupid sledding tricks, and jumped off the side of the hill.