This was actually such a fun chapter to write, so I hope you enjoy it!
XVIII FRANK
THE DEMIGODS WANDERED in the direction Thanatos had told them to for several minutes before they reached a small shack at the summit of a hill. It couldn't have been more than one room large; a red brick chimney had smoke rising into the air, and a single grimy window was the only connection to the outside world other than the door, which hung loosely by its hinges.
They walked up to the front porch.
"Do we just knock?" Percy wondered.
"I think it would be impolite not to," Hazel decided, and tentatively rapped her knuckles against the frame. They heard things fall over and shatter inside. "Coming!" someone shouted. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" The door swung open to reveal a girl Frank's age. Her brownish-red hair was pinned back in a rather messy ponytail, and she was wiping her hands on a cooking apron. "Yes?" she asked them.
"Hello," Percy told her, pretending to be tired. They had already gone over their cover story and knew what to say. "Could we come in? We've been on the run for days; nowhere is safe anymore."
Terpsichore's—because, of course, that was who the girl was—bright expression faded. "Oh, of course," she said, stepping aside. "Come on in."
The demigods entered, and the first thing Frank noticed was how the outside told nothing about the inside of the house. It was still one room, but expanded longingly in each direction. A tray of cookies sat on a coffee table near the right-hand corner of the area, still steaming, and an unmade bed lay strewn in the center of the room. A newspaper laid face-down on an ancient wooden chair that looked as if anyone sat on it it would collapse underneath them... probably not a terribly welcoming sensation.
An entire corner of the house seemed to be dedicated to music—there was a piano, an entire set of band instruments, and several ukuleles in case Terpsichore wanted to challenge herself by playing four at a time. Music played from nowhere. A lyre rested on the piano stool in the music-area, and Frank felt the gaze of the others' rest upon it before flickering back to their host. Terpsichore led them to what most resembled the living room with the cookies.
"Cool place," Percy noted. "I love the Beatles."
Terpsichore regarded him a moment, then quickly ushered them to the cookies. "Eat something," she told them, sitting in a chair in front of the couch they chose. "I'm Terpsichore, one of the nine muses. Who are you? What happened?"
"Well, Terpsichore," Hazel started, delicately nibbling on a biscuit, "we're half-bloods, and we were in the area when the whole thing with Gaea started. We've been on the run for weeks. We just escaped a pack of hellhounds..."—she blinked—"I am 50% sure."
Terpsichore smiled. "I'm glad you got away, then. Where are you going now?" she continued politely.
No one had an answer. They hadn't discussed that. "Athens!" Frank blurted out, saying the first city that came to mind. "Athens, the capital of Greece. Yeah."
Terpsichore's eyebrows came together. "But that's where all the fighting is," she said.
"Ha ha," Hazel said, patting Frank on the back. "What he means to say is that we're coming from Athens. We're actually headed to… eh, England."
"England is quite a far away place to go to," Terpsichore noted, biting on her cookie. "You plan on walking the entire way there?"
"Yes," Frank replied.
"But England is an island."
"Is it now?" Percy said, scratching his head as if he had no clue. "Well, I guess that plan's rubbish." He looked over at the others. "France?"
"But if you're headed in the direction of England/France, then you would have had to come through the Mediterranean, which is forbidden," Terpsichore challenged them, snapping a cookie in half and watching them carefully.
There was a silence. Frank was sure they were done for.
"We were in the area!" Hazel suddenly blurted. "We had come here... to Europe... Athens! We were at Athens. You know, earlier... then Gaea started rising... so we started running." She leaned back and relaxed, seemingly pleased with this answer.
Still watching them carefully, Terpsichore noted, "You know, this is a really odd coincidence, since my neighbour Thanatos is expecting some demigods."
"Really now?" Frank asked through a fake smile, glancing nervously at his friends and back at the lyre resting at the opposite end of the room. How much time did they have left? Half an hour? Twenty minutes?
"Actually, if you guys weren't from here and escaping Athens instead of going toward it, I would have figured you guys were them," Terpsichore continued. "The lucky demigods are supposed to perform some sort of task to prove their worth, like swim in the Acheron River or something. But those half-bloods won't be here for a few more days because of the mountain detour." She grinned, almost a little cruelly. "Only idiots would try to save time by going through the range."
"Idiots, you say?" Percy asked, leaning backwards and crossing his arms in an inquiring manner. "I take offence to that," he added quietly.
"So what do you know about this expedition thing?" Frank asked, leaning forward but catching himself and stopping half-way.
Terpsichore regarded her a moment, then shrugged. "Not much. The special demigods need to visit four gods who'll help them, or else they along with the rest of the world will die at Athens in a week or something. I don't know where the others will be hiding, but there's this goddess in Thessaloniki who'd know. I'd go and ask her if I were one of the seven half-bloods."
Inconspicuously, Hazel tapped Frank's thigh. It was time to stop stalling. "That's a pretty cool lyre," he noticed, pointing to it. Terpsichore turned and saw it.
"Yeah," she said. "It's my official emblem as a muse." She stood and walked over to it, hoisting it off the piano seat by the neck. "Of course it isn't my original one, since the turtle shell starts to stink after a few years. This one's plastic with a turtle shell design." She turned the lyre over and rapped her knuckles against the frame.
"Okay," said Frank. "Definitely not dead marine life."
"Can I see it?" Hazel asked sweetly, holding her hands out like gimme-gimme. Terpsichore hesitated a moment.
"Just don't drop it," she said, and made Hazel promise. Then she handed it over and gave her a few tips on how to play. After a minute or so Hazel was allowed to strum a couple chords.
"This is so cool," she said, and returned the instrument. Frank cocked his head slightly, thinking. Then he saw—she was using the Mist to make it seem like she returned it, but in reality she still held the lyre. She glanced sideways at the guys and winked inconspicuously.
"Well, it was nice of you to have us, Terpsichore," Percy said, standing and taking a few more cookies. "But we really must be going. We still have a long journey ahead of us to get to… France."
The muse nodded. "Of course," she said, standing as well. "Are you sure you would rather not stay a few nights?"
Frank nodded. "We're sure," he replied, forcing himself to not glance over at Hazel.
"All right," she said, leading them to the door. "Good bye." She paused with one hand still on the doorknob, thinking of something. "I'm sorry, but I never caught your names."
"This is Hailey and Filbert," said Percy, thinking quickly.
"Yes," Frank said, trying not to look like he didn't want to strangle Percy. "Thank you, Prewitt."
Percy shot him a sorry glance. I deserved that, he mouthed.
Terpsichore nodded. "Okay, Hailey, Filbert and Prewitt," she said. Hazel struggled not to laugh. "Good riddance, and please give me back my lyre now."
They froze. "Oh, don't look too shocked," Terpsichore told them. "I'm immortal, not stupid. When you go undercover, at least try to not be so obvious. I'm not sure what was the biggest give-away—your horrible acting, or the fact that your faces were plastered on every issue of Olympus Weekly! for the past four weeks!" She grabbed the newspaper Frank had noticed before and held in in their faces. There, printed neatly under the head title GREAT PROPHECY COMING TO REALIZATION? was the entire crew of the Argo II.
Then she turned on Percy, thrusting the newspaper at him. "And it's Elvis, not the Beatles," she snapped.
Percy fumbled with the newspaper, eventually dropping it. "My bad," he apologized.
Terpsichore's anger was starting to catch up to her. Her lips were white from being clenched, but the rest of her face was becoming red. "You were sent to rob me!" she cried indignantly. "How dare you!"
"We're so sorry, Terpsichore," Hazel started, clutching the lyre closer to her chest. "We were forced." She hesitated. "Maybe some other time on better conditions we could hang out together…?"
The hurt written across her face was enough to make Frank feel guilty. If this chick was what Thanatos considered 'nice', he didn't want to get anywhere close to the ones labeled 'slight anger issues'. '"We'll return it," he promised. "We just need to show Thanatos, and—"
"No," Terpsichore declared forcefully. "You will return my lyre. Now."
"I wish we could," Hazel said softly. "But we can't."
Terpsichore looked like she was about to cry, but was trying to hide it with anger. "Fine," she snarled, her voice strained. "Good luck at Olympus, heroes. Purple hippopotamus."
Percy furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" he asked.
The song playing changed abruptly to the Pokemon theme song. Frank froze, and he caught sight of Percy and Hazel stiffening beside him.
Frank suddenly remembered something Thanatos warned them about. "Terpsichore is a nice muse, but if she discovers you are her enemy and not her friend she will play a magic song of exactly fifty notes, and you will be forced to dance until you die."
Oh.
"You like my defence system?" Terpsichore laughed scornfully. "I had it implanted especially for bullies like you." She smiled a little self-confidently. "It's phrase triggered. 'Purple hippopotamus' isn't subtle enough to worm into a sentence, but I figured that since my enemies wouldn't be able to move it wouldn't matter anyway."
Frank was frozen. His limbs wouldn't budge. The song was preventing him from moving, and after fifty notes he would start to dance. Forever.
You know, this is kind of pathetic.
For once, I have to agree with this guy. I'm disappointed. Like, even more disappointed than the time a half-blood from the medieval times died because he wasn't looking where he was going and fell off a cliff.
Oh, I remember that guy! Honestly, I found his death more hilarious than sad.
Idiot.
Mars and Ares. Wonderful. Now Frank could spend his final moments of not looking like an idiot while dancing being tormented by his father and his father's counterpart.
Please go away, he pleaded.
But you need us.
Dang it, I love this song! Pikachu is the best.
Ignore him, son, Mars told him. You have more pressing matters… like, not dancing to your death. You have forty notes left, which is basically only ten bars. Use your talents.
Talents? Frank couldn't perform any talents under a binding spell. I can't, he told them.
There was a moment of silence.
We have an idiot son.
Technically, he's your son.
There was the sound of a cannonball and someone exploding.
That'll teach you for a few seconds. Twenty notes now, Frank.
Hey, I'm back!
I hate you both, Frank conveyed to them.
Okay, so he had like five seconds to think of a plan. Too bad he wasn't stronger, or else he could have easily broken the spell and gone totally Komodo dragon all over Terpsichore.
Plan. Talent. Dragon.
Wow, he was an idiot.
Frank turned into a huge grizzly bear, and felt the spell slip right off his shoulders. He roared loudly, interrupting the song just before it finished and freeing his friends. Terpsichore took a frightened step backwards.
"What—?" she managed before the door was yanked open and the half-bloods raced out.
"Bye!" Hazel called just before leaving. "We're so sorry we had to meet under such unpleasant terms!"
"Thanks for the cookies!" Percy added.
Then they ran. They forgot about the hill and fell down it in an awkward demigod snowball, but they got to their feet and kept running. Hazel still clutched the lyre to her chest.
"Nice work," she panted as they drew nearer to Necromanteion.
"Thanks," Frank gasped back. "But bears are easy. Just don't ask me to turn into a gorilla under pressure."
I wanted to end Frank's POV with a joke. His next set of three chapters won't be so celebrative.
MUAHAHAHA—*starts choking*
Anyway, if you're reading this, please leave a review. They remind me that I am not all alone in the world.
