I liked the great outdoors about as much as any city girl, but this was something else.
We were climbing a two hundred foot cliff on a stairway without rails on a windy day. I was just thankful that I didn't have a fear of heights or this trek would be impossible. With each step I took, the Argo II looked smaller and smaller, but I reminded myself that an opportunity to stretch my legs was something that I'd asked for. Not to mention the chance to inflict violence upon a scumbag.
I grinned to myself at the thought until Hazel's weasel farted again. I looked over my shoulder and scowled at the smelly creature. Hazel gave me an apologetic look that I couldn't stay mad at. Behind her was Jason pulling a disgusted face that made me chuckle. Though I was fairly sure footed, it was reassuring to know that if Hazel or I tripped over the rocky terrain that he could control the winds and save us.
I focused my attention forward once more. I couldn't see the thief from here, but I had a feeling that he was still there, waiting, watching. It infuriated me knowing that he fired on us, almost hitting Piper. Nobody could threaten my friends and get away with it. No matter what happened, I was going to make him pay for that one.
Hazel's weasel jumped off her shoulder and scampered ahead, almost tripping me up. It glanced back and barked eagerly.
"I'm going as fast as I can," Hazel muttered.
I frowned. She seemed to fear that tiny animal and I couldn't imagine why. Perhaps it had something to do with her meeting with Hecate. Now that I think of it, I remember hearing that Hecate had two animal familiars. One was a black dog and the other... a polecat.
"This, uh, controlling the Mist," Jason said from the rear. "Have you had any luck?"
"No," Hazel admitted.
"You'll get it," Jason said confidently.
"How can you be sure?" she asked.
"Just am. I've got a good instinct for what people can do—demigods, anyway."
I nodded in agreement. "Hecate wouldn't have picked you if she didn't believe you had power."
Hazel didn't seem convinced, and we continued climbing in silence for a while. My mind wandered back to the prophecy. To storm or fire the world must fall. Leo and I promised that we would look out for each other, protect each other, and keep ourselves from destroying the whole world. But what if the prophecy wasn't so literal? They often aren't. Jason was a powerful demigod, the son of Jupiter. He had the ability to summon deadly storms just like his dad. Perhaps the prophecy was referring to him.
Or maybe I was just trying to believe that Leo or I wouldn't be the ones to mess everything up.
I glanced up and saw the rim of the cliff only a few yards above us and ran to close the distance. I reached the top, breathless and sweaty. A long sloping valley marched inland, dotted with scraggly olive trees and limestone boulders. There were no signs of civilization, but I've learned not to trust first glances.
Hazel joined me at the summit shortly, legs trembling from the climb. Her weasel barked and farted and scampered into the nearest bushes. Far below, the Argo II looked like a toy boat in the channel. I didn't understand how anyone could shoot an arrow accurately from this high up, accounting for the wind and the glare of the sun off the water. At the mouth of the inlet, the massive shape of the turtle's shell glinted like a burnished coin.
Jason joined us at the top, looking no worse for the climb. He started to say, "Where—"
"Here!" said a voice.
Hazel flinched, and I immediately reached for my sword. Only ten feet away, a man had appeared, a bow and quiver over his shoulder and two old-fashioned flintlock dueling pistols in his hands. He wore high leather boots, leather breeches, and a pirate-style shirt. His curly black hair looked like a little kid's do and his sparkly green eyes were friendly enough, but a red bandana covered the lower half of his face. He reminded me of Percy, which brought a wave of emotions flooding forward.
"Welcome!" the bandit cried, pointing his guns at us. "Your money or your life!"
I was certain that he hadn't been there a second ago. He'd simply materialized, as if he'd stepped out from behind an invisible curtain.
"Who are you?" I demanded.
The bandit laughed. "Sciron, of course!"
"Chiron?" Jason asked. "Like the centaur?"
The bandit rolled his eyes. "Sky-ron, my friend. Son of Poseidon! Thief extraordinaire! All-around awesome guy! But that's not important. I'm not seeing any valuables!" he cried, as if this were excellent news. "I guess that means you want to die?"
"Wait," Hazel said quickly. "We've got valuables. But if we give them up, how can we be sure you'll let us go?"
"Oh, they always ask that," Sciron said. "I promise you, on the River Styx, that as soon as you surrender what I want, I will not shoot you. I will send you right back down that cliff."
The three of us exchanged a wary look. River Styx or no, the way Sciron phrased his promise didn't reassure me at all.
"What if we fought you?" I asked, gripping the hilt of my Celestial Bronze sword.
Jason nodded. "You can't attack all three of us and hold our ship hostage at the same—"
BANG! BANG!
It happened so fast, my brain needed a moment to catch up.
Smoke curled from the side of Jason's head. Just above his left ear, a groove cut through his hair like a racing stripe. One of Sciron's flintlocks was still pointed at his face. The other flintlock was pointed down, over the side of the cliff, as if Sciron's second shot had been fired at the Argo II.
I choked from delayed shock. "What did you just do?"
"Oh, don't worry!" Sciron laughed. "If you could see that far—which you can't—you'd see a hole in the deck between the shoes of the big young man, the one with the bow."
"Frank!" Hazel gasped.
Sciron shrugged. "If you say so. That was just a demonstration. I'm afraid it could have been much more serious."
He spun his flintlocks. The hammers reset, and I had a feeling the guns had just magically reloaded.
Sciron waggled his eyebrows at Jason. "So! To answer your question—yes, I can attack you and hold your ship hostage at the same time. Celestial bronze ammunition. Quite deadly to demigods. You three would die first—bang, bang, bang. Then I could take my time picking off your friends on that ship. Target practice is so much more fun with live targets running around screaming!"
My heart pounded so loud in my chest that I wondered if the others could hear it as well. I hadn't anticipated his speed or skill, and suddenly felt very helpless. Jason touched the new furrow that the bullet had plowed through his hair. For once, he didn't look very confident. Hazel's ankles wobbled. Frank was the best shot I knew with a bow, but this bandit Sciron was inhumanly good.
"You're a son of Poseidon?" Hazel managed. "I would've thought Apollo, the way you shoot."
The smile lines deepened around his eyes. "Why, thank you! It's just from practice, though. The giant turtle—that's due to my parentage. You can't go around taming giant turtles without being a son of Poseidon! I could overwhelm your ship with a tidal wave, of course, but it's terribly difficult work. Not nearly as fun as ambushing and shooting people."
I tried to collect my thoughts, stall for time, but it was difficult while staring down the smoking barrels of those flintlocks. I sniffed, sensing the Celestial Bronze that the guns were composed of. If we could distract him long enough, then I might be able to magically snatch his weapons away. Still, he had that bow and arrow on his back too. We needed more time to come up with a plan.
"Uh…what's the bandana for?" I asked.
"So no one recognizes me!" Sciron said.
"But you introduced yourself," Jason said. "You're Sciron."
The bandit's eyes widened. "How did you— Oh. Yes, I suppose I did." He lowered one flintlock and scratched the side of his head with the other. "Terribly sloppy of me. Sorry. I'm afraid I'm a little rusty. Back from the dead, and all that. Let me try again."
He leveled his pistols. "Stand and deliver! I am an anonymous bandit, and you do not need to know my name!"
I narrowed my eyes, trying to figure out this guy's angle, looking for an opening to strike. He seemed to sense my animosity, but he wasn't the least bit scared. Instead, his bright green eyes shined on me with curiosity.
"Golden hair and bronze skin," he mused. "You remind me of someone..."
"Oh, this?" I tossed my hair over my shoulder. "It's just a bad dye job, don't worry about it."
A bandit like him would surely take me hostage just to collect a bounty on my head.
"Theseus," Hazel said suddenly like it just came to her. "He killed you once."
Sciron's shoulders slumped. "Now, why did you have to mention him? We were getting along so well!"
Jason frowned. "Hazel, you know this guy's story?"
She nodded, though the details seemed murky. "Theseus met him on the road to Athens. Sciron would kill his victims by, um…"
"Theseus was such a cheater!" Sciron complained. "I don't want to talk about him. I'm back from the dead now. Gaea promised me I could stay on the coastline and rob all the demigods I wanted, and that's what I'm going to do! Now…where were we?"
"You were about to let us go," I ventured.
"Hmm…" Sciron said. "No, I'm pretty sure that wasn't it. Ah, right! Money or your life. Where are your valuables? No valuables? Then I'll have to—"
"Wait," Hazel said. "I have our valuables. At least, I can get them."
Sciron pointed a flintlock at Jason's head and the other at my heart. "Well, then, my dear, hop to it, or my next shot will cut off more than your friend's hair!"
I gave Hazel a look like do the thing! In just a moment, the ground rumbled beneath her and immediately yielded a bumper crop—precious metals popping to the surface as though the dirt was anxious to expel them. She found herself surrounded by a knee-high mound of treasure—Roman denarii, silver drachmas, ancient gold jewelry, glittering diamonds and topaz and rubies—enough to fill several lawn bags.
Sciron laughed with delight. "How in the world did you do that?"
Hazel didn't answer.
"Just take the treasure and let us go," I spat.
Sciron chuckled. "Oh, but I did say all your valuables. I understand you're holding something very special on that ship… a certain ivory-and-gold statue about, say, forty feet tall?"
Jason stepped forward. Despite the gun pointed at his face, his eyes were as hard as sapphires. "The statue isn't negotiable."
"You're right, it's not!" Sciron agreed. "I must have it!"
"Gaea told you about it," Hazel guessed. "She ordered you to take it."
Sciron shrugged. "Maybe. But she told me I could keep it for myself. Hard to pass up that offer! I don't intend to die again, my friends. I intend to live a long life as a very wealthy man!"
"The statue won't do you any good," I said. "Not if Gaea destroys the world."
The muzzles of Sciron's pistols wavered. "Pardon?"
"Gaea is using you," Hazel said. "If you take that statue, we won't be able to defeat her. She's planning on wiping all mortals and demigods off the face of the earth, letting her giants and monsters take over. So where will you spend your gold, Sciron? Assuming Gaea even lets you live."
The three of us were still and quiet, allowing Hazel's words to sink in. I figured Sciron would have no trouble believing in double-crosses, being a bandit and all.
He was silent for a count of ten.
Finally his smile lines returned.
"All right!" he said. "I'm not unreasonable. Keep the statue."
I blinked in disbelief. "We can go?"
"Just one more thing," Sciron said. "I always demand a show of respect. Before I let my victims leave, I insist that they wash my feet."
I wasn't sure I'd heard him right. Then Sciron kicked off his leather boots, one after the other. His bare feet were the most disgusting things I had ever seen… and I had seen some very disgusting things.
They were puffy, wrinkled, and white as dough, as if they'd been soaking in formaldehyde for a few centuries. Tufts of brown hair sprouted from each misshapen toe. His jagged toenails were green and yellow, like a tortoise's shell. Then the smell hit me, and it took all my strength not to gag. It was somehow ten times worse than the stench of the earth. No a hundred times worse!
Why couldn't my heightened sense of smell go away instead of my healing and summoning abilities?!
"Ohhh," I groaned and held my nostrils. "Oh, hell nah."
Jason's face turned almost as white as those feet. "You've… got to be kidding."
"Not at all!" Sciron said. "Wash my feet, and we're done. I'll send you back down the cliff. I promise on the River Styx."
"Could we have a moment?" Hazel asked the bandit.
Sciron's eyes narrowed. "What for?"
"Well, it's a big decision," she said. "Left foot, right foot. We need to discuss."
I could tell he was smiling under the mask.
"Of course," he said. "I'm so generous, you can have two minutes."
Hazel climbed out of her pile of treasure. She led Jason and I as far away as she dared—about fifty feet down the cliff, which I hoped was out of earshot.
"Sciron kicks his victims off the cliff," she whispered.
Jason and I scowled. "What?"
"When you kneel down to wash his feet," Hazel said. "That's how he kills you. When you're off-balance, woozy from the smell of his feet, he'll kick you over the edge. You'll fall right into the mouth of his giant turtle."
Jason and I took a moment to digest that, so to speak. He glanced over the cliff, where the turtle's massive shell glinted just under the water and nodded to me.
"So we have to fight," Jason said.
"Sciron's too fast," Hazel said. "He'll kill all three of us in the blink of an eye."
"His guns are made of Celestial Bronze," I said. "If you guys can distract him long enough, then I can disarm him."
"But how can we distract him if he's just going to kick us over the cliff?" Jason wondered.
Hazel chewed her lip and looked away. I followed her gaze to the bushes where that farting weasel was watching her expectantly. Maybe this was part of her test.
"You've got to use the Mist, Hazel," I said.
She nodded, seemingly having come to the same conclusion on her own. "Okay, here's the plan."