Chapter 8:
In a way, it's nice to know there are Greek gods out there, becuase you have someone to blame when things go wrong.
For instance, when you're walking away from a bus that's just been attacked by monsters and struck by lightning, and it's raining on top of everything else, most people might think that's just really bad luck; when you're a half-blood, you understand that some divine force really is trying to mess up your day.
So there they were, Markus, Annabeth, Grover and Percy, walking through the woods along the New Jersey riverbank. Markus helped by using the small lighter he had with him always, guiding them through the woods-though not fully visible-as the glow of New York City making the night light sky yellow behind them, and the smell of the Hudson reeking in their noses.
Grover was shivering and braying, his big goat eyes turned slit-pupiled and full of terror. "Three Kindly Ones. All three at once."
Percy was pretty much in shock himself. The explosion of bus windows still ringing in his ears. But Annabeth kept pulling them along, saying: "Come on! The farther we get, the better."
"All our money was back there," Percy reminded her. "Our food and clothes. Everything."
"Well maybe if you hadn't decided to jump into the fight-"
"What did you want me to do? Let you get killed?"
"You didn't need to protect me, Percy. I would've been fine."
"Sliced like sandwich bread," Grover put in, "but fine."
"Shut up, goat boy," Annabeth said.
Grover brayed mournfully. "Tin cans... a perfectly good bag of tin cans."
Markus growled. "Enough!" he shouted, startling everyone. He was really getting annoyed by the arguing. "I still have my bag, with my money and everything, so we're fine."
"Oh... that's good," Percy commented. "Wait, on the bus, why did you disappear?"
Markus glowered at the thought. "I didn't disappear. I turned invisible with my jacket. With it, I would have killed one, then another over all the surprise. The last one could have been dealt with by Annabeth or me. Then we could have escaped using the Mist."
"You thought of all of that when you saw them?" Annabeth asked curiously.
Markus puffed up his chest a bit. "Of course. I am considered a genius."
By her scoffing, she probably didn't believe him, but whatever. He still had a plan.
He then turned to Percy. "By the way, what the hell is wrong with you?" he asked incrediously. "You nearly killed us and the mortals killed?!"
He winced. "Okay, I'm sorry. I just needed a plan to save you guys."
Markus looked as if he was about to rant, but then he sighed, losing all the tension he had. "It's okay," he muttered. "Besides, I would have done the same thing. With a bit of flair, of course."
Both brothers laughed at that, leaving Annabeth and Grover to look bewilderedly at the two.
After a few minutes, Annabeth fell into line next to Percy. "Look, I…" Her voice faltered. "I appreciate you coming back for us, okay? That was really brave."
"We're a team, right?"
She was silent for a few more steps. "It's just that if you died… aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean the quest was over… or Markus could take over the quest. And also, this may be my only chance to see the real world."
The thunderstorm had finally let up.
The city glow faded behind them, leaving them in almost total darkness besides Markus small lighter.
"You haven't left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?" he asked her.
"No… only short field trips. My dad-"
"The history professor."
"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home." She was rushing her words out. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monster the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not." She said, her voice wavering only the slightest.
"You're pretty good with that knife," Percy praised.
"You think so?"
"Anybody who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me." He grinned at her, getting to see a smile in the wand light.
"You know," she said, "maybe I should tell you… something funny back on the bus…"
Whatever she wanted to say was interrupted by a shrill toot-toot-toot, like the sound of an owl being tortured.
"Hey, my reed pipes still work!" Grover cried. "If I could just remember a 'find path' song, we could get out of these woods!"
He puffed out a few notes, but the tune still sounded suspiciously like Hilary Duff.
"Gods, my ears," Markus grumbled, the other two hearing him.
They kept moving and started to see a bright light up ahead: the colour of a neon sign. They could smell food. Fried, greasy food.
It was then that Markus realized he hadn't eaten anything unhealthy since he'd arrived at Half-Blood Hill, where they lived on grapes, bread, cheese, and extra-lean-cut-nymph-prepared barbecue.
Of course, living on the streets made him not really picky with what he ate. Sometimes he didn't care if what he ate came from a five-star restaurant; he'd still eat it.
They kept walking until they saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and greasy smell.
It wasn't a fast food restaurant like they thought. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that.
The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for the demigods to read, because if there's anything worse for dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English.
To them it read: ATNYS MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM.
"What the heck does it say?" Percy asked.
"I don't know," Annabeth said, as Markus shrugged his shoulders.
Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."
"Thanks Grover." Markus said, relieved.
Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken.
Percy crossed the street, having food on the mind.
"Hey…" Grover warned.
"The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open."
"Snack bar," Percy said wistfully.
"Snack bar," the blonde agreed.
"Are you two crazy?" Grover said. "This place is weird."
"Well with garden gnomes in place, of course it's weird," Markus said. "But we have no choice. We need to stock up." Even though he agreed with Grover that this place was weird. Like, danger weird.
The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps.
"Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"
They stopped at the warehouse door.
"Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."
That made alarms ring in Markus' head. He already wasn't eager to go in. Experience on the street taught him to never accept stuff from strangers. They might be paedophiles or psychopaths. Those were experiences he was not willing to share.
"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?"
"Annie, Grover is a satyr. His nose doesn't get clogged up. Also, take my advice: we should leave. Go find some other place." Markus warned.
It was a testament to how entranced she was that she didn't respond to how to him calling her 'Annie.'
"Meat!" Grover said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."
"You eat cheese enchiladas and aluminium cans," Percy reminded him.
"Those are vegetables. Come on. Let's leave. These statues are… looking at me."
They didn't listen as they approached the door.
Grover turned to Markus. "You believe me, right?" he asked pleadingly.
Markus paused, thinking about their situation. Markus trusted Grover's nose: if he said there was monsters, there was bound to be some monsters. Plus he still wasn't feeling eager to go to the warehouse.
"Let's just be careful." He said to him.
Then the door creaked open, and standing in front of them was a tall Middle Eastern woman-at least, one could assume she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black guaze, but that was all one could make out. Her coffee-coloured hands looked old, but well manicured and elegant, so one could imagine that she was a grandmother who had once been a beautiful lady.
Her accent sounded vaguely Middle Eastern, too. She said, "Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"
"They're… um…" Annabeth started to say.
"We're orphans," Percy said. Markus glared angrily at him for that remark.
"Orphans?" the woman said. The word sounded alien in her mouth. "But, my dears! Surely not!"
"We got separated from our caravan," Percy continued. "Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station if we got lost, but he may have forgotten, or maybe he meant a different gas station. Anyway, we're lost. Is that food I smell?"
"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area."
They thanked her and went inside.
Annabeth muttered to Percy, "Circus caravan?"
"Always have a strategy, right?"
"Your head is full of kelp." Annabeth pointed out.
"You could have at least gone for something more believable," Markus said. " I've got experience in this. You should've let me take the lead. Also, be prepared for when shit blows."
"How do you know?" Annabeth questioned.
"Plot line and Murphy's Law," he answered, confusing the others. Hell, Markus didn't even know what he said.
The warehouse was filled with more statues-people in all different poses, wearing all different outfits and with different expressions on their faces. Seriously, you had to have some huge property to display these things.
They walked in and the group barely noticed Grover's nervous whimpers, or the way the statues' eyes seemed to follow them, or the fact that Aunty Em had locked the door behind them.
They finally made it to the dining area at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front.
"Please, sit down," Aunty Em said.
"Awesome," Percy said.
"Um," Grover said, "We have some-yeow!" he yelped when Markus kicked him discreetly. "I mean, we don't have any money."
Aunty Em seemingly smiled and said, "No, no, children. No money. This is a special case, yes? It is my treat, for such nice orphans."
Markus thought that she was the nicest supposed paedophile/psychopath he's ever met.
"Thank you, ma'am," Annabeth said politely.
Aunty Em stiffened, as if Annabeth had done something wrong, but then the old women relaxed just as quickly.
"Quite all right, Annabeth," she said. "You have such beautiful grey eyes, child."
Markus gave the woman an odd look.
How'd she know her name? They hadn't introduced themselves.
The group brushed off the worries, as they were hungry.
The hostess disappeared behind the snack bar and started cooking. Before the group knew it, she'd brought them plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes and XXL servings of French fries.
Percy was halfway through his burger, looking as if he didn't need to breathe.
Annabeth slurped her shake in happiness.
Markus looked at the food, not feeling hungry, even if he was. He took sips from his water bottle, rejuvenating him.
Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat.
"What's that hissing noise?" he asked.
Percy listened, but didn't say anything. Annabeth shook her head. Markus tensed at that.
"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."
"I take vitamins. For my ears." He answered.
"That's admirable, dear. But please, help yourself." She insisted. "Markus, you too."
"I'm not feeling hungry," he responded. He noted that she ate nothing. She hadn't taken off her headdress, even to cook, and now she sat forward and interlaced her fingers and watched the four children eat. It was a little unsettling, the way she stared at them. Percy decided to make some small talk.
"So, you sell gnomes," Percy said.
"Oh, yes," Aunty Em said. "And animals. And people. Anything for the garden. Custom orders. Statuary is very popular, you know."
"A lot of business on the road?"
"Not so much, no. Since the highway was built… most cars, they do not go this way. I must cherish every customer I get."
Percy then turned around, as if someone was looking for him. He turned his gaze to the statue of a young girl with an Easter basket looking at him. What was weird though was the look of terror on her face.
"Ah," Aunty Em said sadly. "You notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They do not sell. The face is the hardest to get right. Always the face."
"You make these statues yourself?" Percy asked.
"Oh, yes. Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. That is why I make them, you see. They are my company." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that you couldn't help feeling sorry for her.
Annabeth stopped eating. She sat forward and said, "Two sisters."
"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a… boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."
Markus didn't really think much on that, if it weren't for that story. That was when he started to think. Hissing. Statues. Two sisters. From all the study from Greek mythology, he came to one conclusion.
He gasped, but covered it quickly by a chocking sound, pretending it was because of the water he drank.
"Are you okay?" Aunty Em asked in concern.
"Fine. Just drank too quickly," he responded. Thinking quickly, he asked, "Uh, do you have more food?" he asked, hopeful on the inside.
"Of course, dear," Aunty Em said, standing up and briefly turning around.
"Got ya!" Markus swiped the food off the table, sending it flying. He then pushed the table, which flew into Medusa. He probably got the extra strength from the water. The table also smashed into several statues.
"Markus!" the group shouted.
"Medusa! It's Medusa!" he told them quickly, fumbling with Wavebreaker on his keychain.
"Really?!" Grover asked hopefully. Wait, Markus read that wrong. It was actually fearfully.
"Yeah!" He shouted back. "Scatter! Try to kill her! Go!"
Markus ran, leaving the others behind him, trusting that they got the message quickly. While running, he willed himself to turn invisible using his aviator jacket. He hid himself among the remaining statues and leftover food dispensers. The sound of hissing was in the air.
He gripped Wavebreaker in figurine form, making it elongate into sword form. His hunger wasn't really helping with his nerves. He waited several moments.
Markus heard movement behind him, and he swung, Wavebreaker ready to cleave through whatever, hopefully Medusa, was behind him. However, it seemed to hit air.
Confused, he whirled quickly. Then a voice hissed, "Markus! It's me!"
He relaxed, recognizing the voice. "Damn, Annie. Don't sneak up on me."
"Sorry," she whispered, invisible. "Listen, we need to take Medusa out."
"No shit, Sherlock," he responded, hefting his sword on his shoulder. "Let's not waste time then."
"It's going to be hard," she said. "I think the food was drugged. I feel sluggish."
"I told you so. You don't take food from strangers."
"...You can't be serious. Gloating, right now?"
He shrugged. "Well, I did warn you. And you should have listened to Grover. So much for Athena always having a plan."
"…I hate you. So much."
"Love you, too, Wise Girl. In the meantime, I'm gonna kill me a gorgon."
Markus was about to go, but he felt Annabeth's hand clamp on his shoulder. "Wait, Markus. She's dangerous."
Markus rolled his eyes. "You don't think I know that? Look, I read the myths. I just have to not look in her eyes. And I have the perfect plan to take her out."
"How?"
He smirked. "Good old-fashioned trickery."
He ran out, still invisible. He started whooping and yelling. "Yoo-hoo, over her, bitch!"
There was a guttural roar and a snarl. He really wasn't eager to meet Medusa. "Come out here, boy. Join my collection. You and your brother would make a fine statue."
"Sorry. I'm not into old hags who seem butthurt about their relationships. Maybe change your hair, maybe that might convince me."
She roared, and Markus followed in the direction of the roar. He came around a corner, paused, then used Wavebreaker as a mirror to see the reflection of Medusa. He made sure to not look at her face, and instead focused on everything else. Her hair was moving, the tiny snakes wreathing and biting at air.
She seemed to be talking to Percy. "The Grey-Eyed One did this to me, Percy." Her voice sounded like that of a soothing grandmother. "Annabeth's mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this."
"Don't listen to her!" Annabeth called out. "Fight it, Percy!"
"Silence!" she snarled. Then her voice modulated back to a comforting purr. "You why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy's daughter. I shall crush her statue to dust. But you, dear Percy. You and your brother need not suffer."
"… Percy, we have to kill her! I don't want to be assaulted by a paedophile who's still hung up about our dad!"
Medusa growled in response to that, as if considering making Markus into a statue was worth it or not.
"No," Percy said firmly.
"Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen when you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain."
"Percy!" Grover's voice was heard, coupled with a buzzing sound. "Duck!"
Both sons of Poseidon turned, and saw the flying satyr in the night sky, his winged shoes fluttering, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut, his head twitching from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone.
"Duck!" he yelled. "I'll get her!"
That got both boys to immediately duck.
Thwack!
"You satyr!" Medusa roared in rage. "I'll add you to my collection!"
"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back as he came in for another hit.
Ker-whack!
"Arrgh!" Medusa yelled, her snake hair hissing and spitting.
"Hold her right there, Grover!" Markus yelled, bringing out several water bottles from his bag. He brought them up, then slashed them in mid-air. Using the water that was suspended, he willed it to turn into spikes, sharp enough to pierce through stone. With a yell, he sent them hurtling towards the gorgon, piercing her ribcage and legs.
"Arrrgh!" she yelled, louder this time, in pain. "Damn you, boy! I shall crush your statue instead of savouring it!"
"That was all kinds of wrong, lady!" Markus yelled in response. He then started taunting her. "Come and catch me, old hag! Those years of making statues and pining after Poseidon make you fat?!"
She just roared in response, chasing after him. Grover followed her, striking her continuously with the branch. Eventually she had enough. When he came in for another strike, she grabbed the branch, setting him off course, and landing into the statue of a grizzly bear.
"Ummph!" he sounded in pain.
Medusa seemed like she was about to lunge at Grover, but Markus just kept yelling, "Come on! It's me you want!"
Deciding he was the easiest prey, she quickly ran after him, following him through the maze of statues.
Markus kept running, still invisible. He didn't dare look back for fear of turning into stone.
"Why do you continue to run, Markus?" she shouted after him. "You only continue to prolong your suffering! With me, it would only last a moment!"
Yeah, and then I'd be a statue for eternity, Markus thought.
He had another crazy idea, but it just might work. He ran into a corner, quickly using the Mist to create a copy of himself that was visible. He'd come a long way into manipulating the Mist the way he was doing. Markus remembered to thank the Hecate kids later. Normally he wouldn't have been able to do this, but thanks to Wavebreaker, the boost he received was sufficient.
Medusa came upon his Mist clone, glee appearing on her face. As her eyes glowed, Markus made it as if his clone was slowly turning into stone. He was careful not to look at her face, otherwise he'd end up with the same fate.
As his clone finished turning into stone, Medusa cackled loudly. "I told you, boy! Your suffering has ended! Now you can join me as a statue for eternity! Maybe I should crush you into little pieces for your insult!"
"Not today, bitch!" Markus yelled behind her, his sword ready to swing. He quickly snuck behind her when she turned his Mist clone into stone.
She turned, stunned to hear his voice, but it was too late. Markus swung, a slickening shlock echoing around the maze, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern-the sound of a monster disintegrating. The petrified clone vanished also.
Something fell to the ground next to his foot. Markus definitely didn't want to look. He could feel the warm ooze soaking into his sock, the little tiny snakes still hissing and snapping.
Feeling disgusted, he removed his aviator jacket and, carefully, wrapped the head up without looking at it. He didn't know if Medusa's eye power worked or not, but he wasn't willing to find out.
Navigating his way to the group, he saw Grover still recovering from his crash-landing, and Percy and Annabeth standing to one side, looking worried. When they saw him with the head wrapped in his jacket, they looked relieved.
"I thought you were done for!" Percy exclaimed, looking happy.
Markus feigned looking hurt. "You didn't have faith in your older brother to kill the hag? I'm hurt, Percy."
Percy looked like he was about to apologize, but Annabeth interjected. "So, where's Medusa?"
"Dead," Markus answered. He held up the wrapped up head. "Her head was all that was left. Now I'm going to have to wash it!" He grimaced in disgust at that.
She nodded, relieved. "Good. The head can still petrify you. Good job."
"Hey, I said I was going to kill her."
With that victory achieved, Percy turned towards Grover, who looked as if he'd recovered from his landing.
"The Red Baron," he said. "Good job, man."
Grover grinned bashfully. "That really wasn't fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun." He said, as he snatched the shoes out of the air. Markus and Percy recapped their swords. Together they made it out of the warehouse and back to the dining area.
They found some old plastic grocery bags and double wrapped Medusa's head. Markus was sad because his jacket was used to wrap a monster's head. They plopped it on the now right side up table where they'd eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak.
Finally Percy said, "So we have Athena to thank for this monster?"
Annabeth flashed him an irritated look. "Your dad, actually. Don't you remember? Medusa was Poseidon's girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother's temple. That's why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That's why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you and Markus as a nice statue. She still sweet on your dad. You two probably reminded her of him."
Percy's face was burning, a tight frown on his face. "Oh, so it's my fault we met Medusa."
"Actually," Markus spoke up. "It was both your faults, since Grover and I warned you two. And you both thought of your stomachs first before thinking. But don't worry, Percy. The blame doesn't solely fall on you."
"Oh, so it's my fault," Annabeth scowled at him.
He just shrugged. "If you want to take it like that, then sure." He said with an innocent look that no one believed.
Annabeth looked like she was going to continue arguing, but Grover pounded his disguised hoof on the ground.
"Okay, enough. Seriously, I'm getting a migraine, and satyrs don't even get migraines. What are we going to do about the had?" he asked.
Percy stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS.
What had Medusa said?
Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue.
Percy was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mum, but with all the gods for this quest, for getting them blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out of camp. At this rate, they'd never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice.
Percy had a thoughtful look on his face and got up. "I'll be back."
"Percy," Annabeth called after him. "What are you-"
But he left, going off into the side.
"Wonder what he's doing?" Markus asked nobody in particular. He picked up the wrapped head and managed to get his jacket out of the bundle(which was very hard to do).
Percy came back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip:
The Gods
Mount Olympus
600th Floor
Empire State Building
New York, NY
With best wishes.
Percy looked to his brother. "You want to sign too?" he asked with a grin, knowing he was pissed about it too.
Markus grinned in response. "Yeah. But let me add my own personal note first."
After fiddling around with Riptide, transforming it into a pen that writes(how convenient), he wrote his own note, saying:
Dear gods,
My quest with my friends is turning out a little terrifying. Uncle Thunderbeard Zeus, me and my brother have sent Medusa's head as a gift. Anyways, Zeus, I just wanted to tell you that we didn't steal your nightlight. Stop being so dramatic about it all! Anyway, tell our dad, Poseidon, we said fuck you. Oh, and don't forget to calm your ass down and solve it like a man.
Sincerely,
Markus Henderson, son of Poseidon.
After reading his note, the group paled. It was way more offensive than what Percy wrote.
"You can't write that!" Grover exclaimed fearfully. "You'll get smote instantly! Retract it, please!"
"Nope." Markus said, shaking his head. "I'm angry, and I'm being truthful. If Zeus doesn't like it, tough. Plus, I'm sticking it to Poseidon at the same time!"
Percy just shook his head. "Sometimes, Markus, I think you're more of a rebel than me."
Markus looked at his brother for a moment. Then he grinned. "Baby brother, that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me! I'm touched!"
They both laughed, high-fiving each other. Then Percy poured the drachmas in, along with their notes, and sealed it closed. There was a sound like a cash register, the package floated off the table and into the air with a pop.
Both boys looked at Annabeth, daring her to say something. She didn't. She looked resigned to the fact that both boys loved pissing off the gods. Markus more so. "Come on," she muttered. "We need a new plan."
That's a wrap, readers! So, I hoped you liked my new chapter! Yay! Sorry Markus took the kill and not Percy, but I wanted to make the scene more interesting. No offence to Riordan or anything, he's a genius, but the scene was a bit bland for me. So I changed it.
Well, hopefully I'll update soon. Also, a big shout out to all those who favourited this story and who followed it! It makes me want to write more! Keep doing that! Plz! Love you all!
Read and review!