AN: So. I am sorry this was so late, but I wanted to get a few chapters for my other stories up and then on Thursday our electric went out and didn't come on till Friday evening. But here is another chapter.
We only have about five more chapters until this story is finished and we can move on to the sequel. Which involves the Sea of Monsters.
This chapter is sort of...boring. Sort of, but I hope it's enough to keep everyone happy until I get the next chapter up which involves them getting to the Underworld and Tartarus. Then finally, Melinda meets her first major god. Family reunions are always interesting.
Anyways, enjoy!
The Sea's Daughter: The Lightning Thief.
Chapter 12: Dead On Arrival.
"Well, here it is," Grover said, grimacing as they stood in front of DOA Studios.
The evening was fast approaching them and Melinda couldn't help but begin to panic.
As she surveyed the building before her on Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched into black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.
Underneath that, stenciled on the glass doors was: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.
"Some is just full of happy thoughts," Melinda said, trying to break some of the tension coming off them.
It got a small smile out of the younger demigods and one Satyr but did little else to stop them from worrying.
"Lets go," Percy said, trying to sound brave.
At his age, Melinda knew she couldn't have done any better. Though, when she was his age she was slaying thousand year old Basilisk and getting over her first betrayal. By a book of all things.
Inside the building the lobby was brightly lit and full of people, despite the morbid looks on the outside. Behind the desk sat a skinny, yet tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.
He was also dressed in a dark suit, designer from what little Melinda knew about fashions thanks to living in a dorm room with Parvati and Lavender for six years.
Percy turned to them when they were stopped behind some others headed to the Land of the Dead as well. Melinda realized then the place looked pretty backed up, and wondered why that was.
"Okay. You remember the plan?" he asked, and Melinda looked at her brother and smiled.
"Try to get in the old fashioned way before using plan B," she said, and Percy, Annabeth and Grover nodded.
They each looked nervous and unsure.
"Can't we just use Melinda's plan?" Grover asked, looking ready to start devouring the curtains. "No offense, Perce, but she seems to have a way in without possibly getting vaporized."
"Charon is just the ferry-man, isn't he?" Percy asked and Annabeth shrugged.
"It's debatable," Annabeth said. "Some accounts have him as a minor god assigned to ferry the souls from here to the underworld. Others, he's simply the equivalent of the grim reaper."
"In reality though?" Percy asked.
Melinda stared at the man behind the desk for a split second as she answered her brother.
"He is, in reality, the Greek god of boundaries and territories," she said, looking down at her shorter brother.
He gulped, and then his face went determined.
"It's my quest, I have to at least try," he said and Melinda smiled slightly, and was proud of her brother.
Anyone else might take the easy way out of this but her brother wanted to do things differently. He was loyal, and honest. She hadn't heard him utter a single lie since she'd met him.
Even she'd been guilty of lying, but it just meant his fatal flaw must be something different then hers.
It wasn't unusual, though most children of the big three were subject to four fatal flaws. Grudges, Personal Loyalty, Power Hunger, and Temptation.
She was unfortunate to get the last and most fatal of the three besides loyalty- or at least that was how it was portrayed because those with loyalty and temptation seemed to die sooner then those with the other two.
The only reason she even knew this all was her grimoire, the first and most treasured of the gifts she'd gotten from her grams. She was pretty sure she'd learned all she could from the large book after seven years though, it might have a lot of knowledge but it wasn't all knowing.
Now it was simply a grimoire with some extra blank pages in the back where she could write entries inside.
Melinda came back from her straying thoughts as they walked inside the DOA lobby.
Music played softly, the carpet and walls were steel gray, and pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. Personally, she thought the place could use a bit of color, or maybe even a flower or two.
The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator.
She even saw some running around playing what seemed to be tag, but they were all children souls. Ranging from the age of three to seven.
Otherwise, nobody moved, or talked, or anything.
She saw Percy looking at the spirits from the corner of his eye, and knew what that was about.
If they looked from the corner of their eyes they could see them all just fine, as if they were alive, but if they focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking transparent.
That was just how spirits were, though she could see them a little more solid because she was the barer of all three hallows.
She was closer to death's domain – without actually being dead or dying – than others of the living world.
Charon's desk was a raised podium, so they all had to look up at him. Even Melinda, and she was a good height despite her malnourished childhood and stood at 5'7.
Melinda couldn't help but be surprised by his appearance. She had, as embarrassing as it was to admit, been expecting a tall skeletal man with a scythe, and maybe a long black robe.
Instead he was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored skin and bleached-blond hair shaved in a military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.
Charon, she read, after a moment and reading it wrong.
"You're name is Chiron?" Percy asked, slightly confused but mostly curious.
He leaned across the desk. She couldn't see his eyes, though she imagined they weren't pretty in the mortal sense of the word, but she did see their reflections. It was his smile and freaked her out a little.
It was sweet and cold, like a pythons, right before it eats someone. But she'd seen it before on Voldemort as well, or at least a version of it, and even Sesha got a look like that on her face before she had her dinner.
"What a precious young lad." He had a accent like hers, but also different.
Like English was his second language and she supposed it was. All the gods had to learn English when Olympus had moved from Greece.
"Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur to you?"
"No," Percy said, sort of uncertain and Melinda placed a calming hand on his shoulder.
"Forgive my brother, he's special you see," she said, smiling at the ferry man and god in his own right. "He may be twelve but between you and me, reading was never his strong suit."
Charon turned his attentions to her, and she felt Percy tense and look up at her like she'd just said she liked running around naked in public.
She just chuckled mentally, figuring he didn't appreciate being called special, but Annabeth and Grover seemed to find it amusing.
Of course she meant no disrespect to anyone who was, being Dyslexic she sort of understood how hard learning could be. But she digressed.
"Aw, how exactly are you two related. I may not be the sharpest god on Olympus, but I do detect a British accent, sweetheart," Charon said, his smile becoming less cold but not much.
She blinked, wondering if her signals were getting mixed or if he really was trying to flirt with her. She shook her head, and chuckled.
"Half-brother. I was raised by our mother in England," she said, and it seemed to appease Charon.
"So, how can I help you dead ones?" he asked.
"We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth said, after a receiving a look which asked for help from Percy.
Charon looked at the four of them strangely, sitting back in thought.
"Huh, that's a new one," he said, scratching his chin.
"Straightforward, and to the point of suspicious truthfulness. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked them over critic. "How did you die, then?"
Melinda was thinking up a believable death story when Grover beat her to it.
"Um … we drowned ... in the bathtub."
"All...four..." He stopped to look from them to her with a raised eyebrow. "...of you?"
Melinda sighed, looked up as if to ask what she'd done to deserve this. If he bought that terrible lie, she'd give her journals to the Hermes cabin to read and violate. It was a good thing she had her fingers crossed.
"Big bathtub," he muttered, seeming mildly impressed as he surveyed them.
"I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. I suppose I still could with this one here."
Charon motioned to Melinda before continuing.
"But with children ... alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."
"A few centuries?" she asked, sort of appalled.
He shrugged.
"Children don't need to see the Underworld right away, they never take it well. They're quite content to run around and play together for now."
Melinda frowned, but could see that the spirit children did seem content and happy. They were the only ones really moving.
"Oh, but we have coins." Percy said, before Melinda could do anything and set three golden drachmas on the counter, part of the stash he'd found in Crusty's office desk.
"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in ..."
His fingers hovered greedily over the coins and Melinda could practically see the gears turning in his head as everything clicked into place.
They'd be so close, but it wasn't over yet. She at least came prepared.
Charon looked at them.
"You couldn't read my name correctly, could you? I'll bet you're dyslexic, aren't you lad?"
"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."
"Percy, we need to work on when to let something go," she muttered, lowly.
Charon leaned forward and took a sniff.
"You're not dead. I should've known. You're godlings."
"We have to get to the Underworld," Melinda insisted.
Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat.
Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.
The children even stopped playing, they sat down and fidgeted where they had been standing before.
"Leave while you can," Charon snapped. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you."
He started to go for the coins, but Percy snatched them back.
"No service, no tip," Percy said, putting on a brace front.
She almost didn't catch the nervousness in his voice. Almost.
Charon growled again—a deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors and the children spirits began crying softly.
"It's a shame, too," Percy sighed. "We had more to offer."
He held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash.
Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling?
But he looked ready to crumble under the strain the gold put him under.
Melinda shook her head and grabbed the bag from Percy and stepped forward to stand slightly in front of the others.
"Look, we don't have the time to barter with you, Charon," she said.
"Ah, a backbone. I like that sweetheart, but no can do," he said. "Do you know how many heroes come here to do just this? Some even got through and who gets blamed when heroes get through? Me!"
Melinda opened the pouch a poured part of it out onto the podium.
"But Eh ... just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"
"A lot," Annabeth said, "over half a pouch."
Percy nodded, wanting to help.
"I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."
"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"
"You deserve better," Melinda agreed, nodding. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay. Maybe for people to remember you're not just a ferryman under Hades' payroll. "
With each word, she began stacking the coins and Charon was beginning to crumble.
"It's a tempting offer, so, so tempting. But...no. Sorry, but Hades will have my job and head on a platter. Then who will ferry the souls, Thanatos?"
He snorted.
"Thanatos is the last person to be left to this job, irresponsible as the youths these days, unless it's going off to reap souls with that fancy phone of his."
"Sounds like you have problems with...Thanatos?" Percy said, but the gods name came out more like a question.
She could tell her brother was trying to recall who Thanatos was and what his domain was.
"My slightly younger brother, indeed, we have issues. But who doesn't," the ferryman said.
"The god of death is your brother?" Annabeth asked, actually surprised by this fact.
Charon growled low in his throat.
"Everyone always forgets I'm a god too! Before I was the ferryman of the Styx, escorting souls between the boundaries, I was simply Charon, son of Nyx, god of boundaries and territories!" he nearly yelled in exclamation and then sat back down, not realizing he'd stood up in his excitement.
"But then things changed, and I was nearly forgotten. If not for my job as the ferryman...I'd probably have faded centuries ago."
Melinda couldn't help but feel sorry for the man decked out in Italian silk.
"But no sweet talk will work this time, oh no," Charon said, shaking his head and dusting off his suit which was spotless in the first place.
"I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades," Percy added from her side, and he shook his head.
"No can do, sorry little godlings," he said, and he actually seemed repentant, why she wasn't sure.
"But we have to get there!" Grover exclaimed. "If we don't get the master bolt..."
Charon sat up straighter and brought up a hand to silence the Satyr.
"Whoa, whoa. Back up," he said. "No one said anything about a master bolt."
Melinda sighed, and flicked her left wrist, allowing the elder wand to fall into her hand and then pulled her invisibility cloak out and swung it over her shoulders.
The ring was of course on her finger where it always was, after she'd gotten the stone reattached to a golden band after the war.
"Today is the Summer Solstice, and unless you want to be over worked for the next thousand years, I think you'll agree we need to get into the Underworld," Melinda said.
She placed her wand on the desk and flipped the hood of the cloak up. No one would be able to see her from behind, but Charon could see part of her body in the front from were she hadn't closed the cloak, and some of her facial features, most notably were bright green eyes in a shadowed hood.
Percy, Annabeth and Grover noticed she seemed to give off a cold feeling all of the sudden, sort of like the feeling of when someone is supposedly walking over your grave.
They didn't know it was similar to the repelling aura that made children of Hades and Thanatos – though there were few of the latter over the thousands of years – so unapproachable.
While similar it was far less repelling and was more based around her emotions to the strength and even at it's strongest it wouldn't have the same power as a child of Hades or Thanatos.
Charon's eyes seemed to have widened behind his glasses.
"Di immortals," he breathed. "The Deathly Hallows, all three of them!"
Annabeth, Grover and Percy blinked in confusion, but Melinda only tore off her hood and smiled lightly.
"The Deathly what now?" Percy asked.
Melinda placed a hand momentarily on top of his head – intending to ruffle his hair – before he slapped her hand away lightly.
She chuckled, she knew he hated being treated like he was younger then he was – according to him he was to old to be treated like he was six.
Sometimes it was just amusing to see his reaction to small things like that. He claimed he didn't like the hovering, but deep down she didn't think he minded all that much.
"I'll explain when we have time," she said. "Remember my promise, after the quest I'll explain everything you don't already know."
He frowned momentarily but nodded. He knew she would keep her promise and he also knew they didn't have time now.
"That's lovely," Charon said, standing. "Now, you want to go to the Underworld or not, sweetheart?"
The younger demigods and Grover all stared at her in shock.
"What? Just like that?" Annabeth asked.
He sighed.
"The boat's almost full, anyways, and I can't say no to the Mistress of Death. That's like asking for cosmic karma to come strike me down from both Thanatos and Hecate."
Melinda blinked.
"How did you know..."
"I could smell the magic on you, darling. The fact you have my brother's hallows leaves no questions about it," he said, shrugging. "What I don't understand is why you didn't just say you had them in the first place. Died in a bathtub indeed."
Grover flushed, along with Annabeth and Percy and Melinda chuckled.
Melinda smiled and looking back at the children spirits she handed the money towards Charon.
He licked his lips and reached for the pouch of gold but she pulled back at the last minute.
"Promise to take those children over on the next boat?" she questioned and Charon sighed.
"Ah, a catch," he said, shaking his head. "Fine, they've been here for about a decade now anyways. Now, Come along."
Melinda nodded and tossed the bag to the ferryman and they pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at they're clothes. Their voices were whispering things Melinda was sure the others couldn't make out, and were barely understandable to her.
Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Damn freeloaders. Back to you're seats!"
He escorted them into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass.
Charon sighed in frustration and grabbed two spirits who were trying to sneak on and pushed them back into the lobby.
"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone," he announced to the waiting room. "And if anyone moves off my music station again, I'll make sure you're here for another two thousand years. Understood?"
He shut the doors. He put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel and they started to descend.
"The spirits waiting in the lobby, what happens to them?" Annabeth asked.
"Nothing," Charon said, sort of board.
"How long exactly does that last?" she asked, cautiously.
"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."
"Oh," she said, discouraged. "That's ... fair."
Charon raised an eyebrow, and nearly glowered over at the blonde.
"Whoever said death was fair? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going. Though, you might make it back, being with the Mistress of Death, that is. Then again, maybe not."
"We'll get out alive," Melinda said, giving Percy, Annabeth and Grover reassuring looks. "All of us."
He shrugged and the conversation ended there. Though, Melinda could tell it had caused more questions for the three she was with than it had answers.
