Chapter 18, Act I - Dead or Alive Recording Studios.
I didn't want to deal with Crusty. We got ushered into his stupid waterbed palace soon after we entered the city, and as soon as he said, "I'm Crusty," I grumbled. "Yes, yes you are." I swiftly brought out my sword, and not another word was uttered before he crumbled into dust. Percy looked at me in shock, and I looked at the trio skeptically.
"Come on. Most monster lairs start with monster alias, then their business, somehow related to their myth, and then some grandiose adjective. Emporium, Palace, the list, I assure you, goes on. This dude was Procrustes. Sorry, Percy, he's one of your monster brothers." I explained. Annabeth gave me a dumbfounded look.
"Hey, at least being related to him isn't as weird as being related to a rug." I said defensively. Grover shrugged. I think he was the only one that's just used to my peculiar shenanigans by now.
I glanced to the bulletin board we passed when entering his store, and snatched the bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios. "Our destination." I said, gesturing at the address on the flier.
"Come on." Percy urged them. "It's only a block from here."
It was only a couple minutes before we stood in front of the doors. I almost laughed at the sign hanging on the doors. No Solicitors. No Loitering. No Living. Super creative, honestly. Props to them. I opened the doors, and slid into the room crowded with spirits.
Muzak played softly over hidden speakers, and it was frankly unnerving to hear in a place like this. It really set the tone.
"Your name is Chiron?" Percy asked, bewildered, to the guard. The guard leaned across the desk. "What a precious young lad. Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur to you?" He asked Percy. "No, no." Percy said, chuckling nervously. "Sir." The guard added smoothly. "Sir." Percy added eloquently.
You know, out of all things I anticipated from this quest, I did not anticipate learning that Charon had a British accent.
The guard pinched his name tag. "Can you read this? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say it with me. Charon." Charon said condescendingly. "Charon." Percy echoed, a little stunned that a god was talking him down without just smiting him. "Amazing! Now, Mister Charon." Charon continued. "Mister Charon." He echoed.
I was wondering whether or not the god had charmspeak of some variety. "Well done. I hate being confused with that old horse-man. Now, may I help you little dead ones?" I stifled a laugh. I knew where this was going, and I wasn't about to step in.
"We want to go to the Underworld." Annabeth spoke, stepping up. I noticed her hands were shaking a little, despite her confident appearance. "Well, that's refreshing." Charon smirked. "It is?" She asked. "Straightforward and honest. No screaming, no 'There must be a mistake, Mister Charon.' How did you lot die, then?" He asked.
"Um...drowned...in the bathtub." Grover lied, after Percy nudged him. "All three of you?" Charon asked. Thankfully, I wasn't lumped in with them, since I was standing back, away from them, so I could bear witness to the Golden Trio sharing a singular brain cell. "Big bathtub." He mused.
"I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children...alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries." He explained to them. "Oh, but we have coins." Percy offered, setting three drachma on the counter.
"Well, now...real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..." He trailed off, narrowing his eyes. "Hold it, now, lad. You couldn't read my name right. Are you dyslexic, lad?" He asked Percy.
"No," Percy denied. "I'm dead."
I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing, and sauntered up to the counter, placing a bag of drachma on the counter. "Charon, we need to see your boss. We're here with his express permission, to help investigate in regards to the thief who stole his Helm." I said, dropping my voice for the last part.
"I'll give you this baggie of drachma now if you take us, and I'll add a few more if we get to the other side, alive." I added. Charon laughed. "You. My sisters aren't very happy with you, son of Hecate. I s'pose that's none of my business, though, is it? Very well. I'll take you and your friends down there. That's a more than fair bargain." He said, removing his sunglasses to reveal empty sockets. He then took my pouch of drachma.
I grin at him. "Trust me, your sisters don't know what's coming. I'm not supposed to be alive as it is, and I intend to rectify that at some point, though I'm fixing some of the problems I see while I can." I'd meant that I wanted to find my way back to my own universe, but I realized that just sounded awful out loud.
Percy sent me a concerned look, Annabeth sent me a confused look, and Grover sent me a pitying look. "I didn't mean it like that." I hurriedly amended my statement. "Then how did you mean it?" Percy asked, an odd softness in his voice, sounding rather like empathy.
"I'll tell you at some point, but now's not the time. Take it away, Mister Charon." I gestured to him. He guided us to the elevator, and shoved spirits out of the way. "Freeloaders." I grumbled. Charon snorts. "You get it." He grins savagely at me.
"My mother's a goddess of necromancy. I may not strictly obey all laws of death in my works, but I still respect the order of things, in the end. Your time comes to be judged eventually. Waiting that long is a test, while initially unintended as such. If you can't be patient, you can't get the afterlife." I tell the god.
"Right indeed. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the full studio. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy listening station, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"
"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asks, as the elevator starts to descend. "Nothing." He grunts. "For how long?" She asks him. "Forever, or until I'm feeling generous." Annabeth makes a small noise at that. "That's...fair." She whimpered.
Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going." I sent him a look. "If Hades kills us, he may lose his only potential allies, and he'd be fighting World War Three. We can stop it. So to kill us would be unwise." I informed him.
He grunted. "Just when I started to think you were half-decent, you go and go on that typical arrogant demigod ramble. Hades does not need you four. He can work just as well without the interference of demigods, mind you." I shook my head.
"I thought, as a god yourself, you'd understand, Charon. Gods rely on mortals, though they hate to admit it. They need the worship to remain powerful. That's why the Greeks have stayed as potentially the most powerful pantheon after all this time. Not just their kids giving them offerings, but the mortals that believe in them. Hades, unfortunately, can't get his Helm back himself." I frowned at him.
He sighed. "That's a harsh truth for most gods to accept. I'm just a ferryman, who's paid far too little. Thousands of years of hearing spirits whine and whine, I suppose I'm bitter that I'm stuck with it, while you lot get to run free." As soon as he said it, he pulled a railing from the elevator, and it turns out, it was an oar. Everything faded out, and faded back in as an entirely different scene.
We were on a rowboat, sailing down the Styx. I summoned a few vials of water with Hestia's power. I drank through the vials, and gathered some of the Styx water, placing it in my inventory. Nobody but Charon seemed to notice, as everyone else needed to take a moment to readjust.
Charon was in an entirely different outfit now. He was in a robe not unlike what you'd imagine the Grim Reaper wearing. I saw Percy and Annabeth start panicking. They felt the fear of the river of hatred beneath us. The river, well, hated any living beings crossing it, and here we were.
It was natural to panic when Styx itself was angry at your presence.
Annabeth grabbed Percy's hand, and I smiled softly, but said nothing. I think Grover noticed, too, and noticed that I noticed, because he sent a grin at me. It was weird, grinning, in the Underworld, sailing across the river which resides a goddess of hatred.
We arrived at the end of our little boat ride. "Careful. Old Three-Face is hungry." Charon warned us. "I'd wish you luck, mate, but there's no such thing down here." He boarded his boat again, and sailed back upstream.
I'd be sure to drop a few drachma and some food in the brazier back at camp, since Charon forgot to get the last of my payment. Alas, I turned back around to face a long, worn path, filled with spirits. At the end, I saw a three-headed dog looming.
"Well? Onwards, my friends!" I smiled at them confidently. As we walked, a thought came to me. "Have any of you watched the Wizard of Oz?" I asked. Percy groaned. "Niko, we are not singing that while we approach the castle of Hades." Annabeth chided.
"Buzzkills." I muttered.
