CHAPTER TWELVE

We Get Advice From A Poodle

I don't own Percy Jackson.

Calling them miserable would've been the understatement of the year.

Will had collapsed first. Having used up a good chunk of his healing abilities so many times in the last couple hours had taken a toll on him, and he had been fighting despite being exhausted—by the time they were only a few hundred yards from the main road, he was already slumping against Percy, eyes fluttering shut. Right. As a child of Apollo, he would've probably been more worn out at night too.

"Let's just call it a day, yeah?" Percy suggested.

Grover looked like he was about to protest, but then he saw Percy, just barely-healed and definitely unable to carry Will for much longer, and Will just staggering forward at that point, and quickly agreed. Percy let Will half-sleep on her shoulder as she helped Grover set up camp, and then the two of them gently placed Will down on the mass of blankets, who was already sleeping before his head even touched the ground. Neither she or Grover dared light a fire—they had already had enough excitement from Medusa and the Furies.

"I'll take the first shift," Percy volunteered; after all, Grover looked exhausted too, and she had just gotten a burst of adrenaline from all the water she had drank. "I'll wake you if I need to go to sleep or if there's trouble."

Grover nodded, but he didn't close his eyes. His expression was sad.

"Percy, look at this place. It's a dump."

Percy blinked in surprise, and then looked around.

It was true—the place Will had so conveniently chosen for them was trashed, maybe because of local kids using it as a party venue and hadn't bothered cleaning up after themselves. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast food wrappers, and there were plastic bits strewn everywhere, plastic bags plastered against trees.

"You can't even see the stars anymore." Grover pointed at the sky. "They've polluted the sky. It's a terrible time to be a satyr."

Percy was clever enough to know who "they" were without asking, but she wasn't clever enough to know what to say. She settled on asking, "Isn't there a god of forests, or something? Wouldn't he be able to help?"

"That's why I want a searcher's license. I want to find Pan. But seeing all this... defilement of nature... it makes me sad, Percy. There's so much for Pan to fix. What if he can't do it?"

Percy stared at the crumpled wrappers on the floor. As Grover spoke, a strange breeze rustled through the clearing, bringing with it the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might've once been in these woods. She was suddenly nostalgic for something she had never known.

"Tell me about it," she said. "The search."

Grover pursed his lips. "The God of Wild Places disappeared two thousand years ago. A sailor off the coast of Ephesosheard a mysterious voice crying out from the shore, 'Tell them that the great god Pan has died!' When humans heard the news, they believed it. They've been pillaging Pan's kingdom ever since. But for the satyrs, Pan was our lord and master. He protected us and the wild places of the earth. We refuse to believe that he died. In every generation, the bravest satyrs pledge their lives to finding Pan. They search the earth, exploring all the wildest places, hoping to find where he is hidden, and wake him from his sleep."

Percy was quiet. "You know, Grover, I don't know much about being a searcher, but I know this: you're definitely the bravest satyr I know, and I ever will know. If being a searcher is your life's dream, you deserve it more than anyone."

Grover smiled a little, but it quickly faded. "My father was a searcher. So was Uncle Ferdinand..." His voice faltered.

"I'm sorry about your uncle," Percy said honestly.

She didn't have any on her mom's side, but she had two on her father's side—one had accused her of stealing the most powerful weapon in the world and was demanding that she return it in nine days, and the other had killed her mom and she was now confronting in the hopes of getting her mother back.

Grover just shook his head, though. "It's okay. Uncle Ferdinand knew the risks. So did my dad. But I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

Percy's blood ran cold at that. "Wait, what do you mean, the first?"

Grover shifted uncomfortably, like he didn't want to say. "No searcher has ever returned alive, Percy, not once in two thousand years. Sometimes they turn up dead... like with Uncle Ferdinand. I don't know what happened to my dad. Once a searcher sets out, they just disappear."

"But you're still willing to do it." Percy didn't bother hiding the amazement in her voice. "Grover, you're definitely the bravest satyr I know. But how do you know where to find Pan? Like, what if he can't do anything?"

"I have to believe in him. I have to believe in myself. Every searcher does. It's the only way we can keep ourselves sane, from despairing whenever we look at what humans have done to the world. I have to believe Pan can still be awakened."

Percy stared at the thick of trees, not quite seeing it, wondering how Grover plucked up the courage to pursue a dream that seemed so hopeless. Then again, was Percy any better? She was on this quest to save her mother, and save her mother alone—other than asking Hades nicely, she didn't have a plan. One could call it foolish. She knew Will would if he knew. Yet she understood what Grover felt like—she had to have hope. She had to keep going. If she told herself her mother was gone... she wouldn't know what to do with herself.

"Percy, Will and I were talking about the quest," Grover admitted at last. "While he was healing me. There's something wrong with it. The Kindly Ones were holding back on the bus; they weren't being as aggressive as they could've been, and they waited a long time to kill you. And then..." he hesitated. "They were screeching: 'Where is it?' It. Not her. It. Like, an object."

Percy frowned. "Were they looking for the lightning bolt, then? How long will it take before people realize I don't know anything?"

"But if they were looking for the bolt, then why are we going to the Underworld in the first place? We're betting everything that the bolt's there, but why go if Hades doesn't have it? There's something wrong, Percy, and... I don't know." He was quiet. "I know you don't like her, but I wish Annabeth was here. You shouldn't be too hard on her, Percy. She's a good person. She's forgiven me—"

He broke off.

"What? What did she forgive you for?"

"Nothing. I was just... she's a friend. Having Will with us is nice, but it's just... I know Annabeth better. It sounds dumb to say, but..." He trailed off. "Her home life isn't the best. She never felt as loved as most others do. That's why she was so determined to hate you. She thinks that the only person she has left is her mother, and she's willing to do anything to make Athena proud, even if it means illogically hating you. But I feel like you two could end up being great friends, if only she can learn to let others love her too. Can you... can you give her another chance?"

Percy shrugged. "If Annabeth can learn to swallow her pride and apologize, I'm sure we'll end up great."

Grover managed a smile. They were silent for a while.

"I want my mom back," Percy whispered. "I'm only on this quest for her. I don't care about the stupid bolt."

Grover blew a soft note on his pipes. "I know that, Percy. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

She hesitated. "I don't know. Everybody has been telling me my dad cares about me, but how can I say that when I don't even know him? How would I even know what a good dad is like? I've only ever known Smelly Gabe, and that bar is pretty low."

"So why did you mail Medusa's head to Olympus?"

Percy stared off into the distance, not looking at Grover, but both of them knew the answer. But Percy didn't want to put her trust in her father. It was true—she had only known Smelly Gabe, and if her father was anything like him, she would've rather wished he stayed far away from her. But even if he wasn't like Smelly Gabe, the other campers had shown her what the gods were like—busy, neglectful—they had left over a dozen kids in the Hermes cabin because they were too lazy to snap their fingers and claim their kids. She didn't want a father like that either.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Grover suggested at last. "I'll take first watch."

Percy wanted to protest, but he hardly gave her time. He began playing Mozart on his reed pipes, soft and sweet, and she found her eyes closing. After a few bars, she was already curling up beside Will, asleep.

She dreamed of a dark cavern before a gaping pit, standing just at the edge. Unconsciously, she took a step back. Figures of grey mist churned around her, whispering wisps of smoke that she somehow knew were the spirits of the dead. Percy wondered faintly if any of them were her mother. They were grasping at her clothes, trying to pull her back, but there was a voice in her head, urging her forward.

She glanced over the edge. The pit was so large and so black that it must've been bottomless. Yet she was sure there was something in it too, something in the depths, trying to rise from the abyss. Something huge and evil. Something she should never hope to see, let alone face in battle.

The little hero, an amused voice echoed far down in the darkness. Too weak, too young, but perhaps you will do.

The voice felt ancient—cold and heavy. It wrapped around her like sheets of lead. Somehow, she found it in her strength to take another step back, though the will needed seemed almost unendurable.

They have misled you, girl, it said. Barter with me. I will give you what you want.

Percy's mouth went dry as an image shimmered before her.

It was her mother, frozen the exact moment before she had dissolved in a shower of gold, her face twisted with pain and horror, as if the Minotaur was still squeezing her neck. Her eyes were as terrified and pleading as they had been the last time Percy saw her, as if she was still yelling: Go! Percy wanted to cry out, but her voice wouldn't work. Her trembling hand reached for her mother.

Cold, high laughter echoed from the chasm.

Something yanked her forward. Percy staggered, but somehow managed to regain her footing in time, standing firm, but it was like she was using only her own strength to keep an entire ship from floating back out to sea.

Help me rise, Percy. The voice became hungrier. Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the treacherous gods!

The spirits of the dead whispered around her, No! Wake!

The image of her mother began to fade as the thing in the pit tightened its unseen grip around her. It wasn't interested in pulling her in, she realized. It was using her to pull itself out.

Good, it murmured. Good.

Wake! the dead whispered. Wake!

Someone was shaking her.

No!

Just as Percy was about to step into the pit, ready to sacrifice herself if it meant keeping that voice in there, her eyes flew open, before she shut them again almost immediately, the sunlight burning.

"Percy?" Will sounded worried. "You okay? You sounded like you were having a nightmare."

"Fine," she rasped, wincing at her voice; she sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Better if there's a place where I can brush my teeth."

Will shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. But you can use this." He handed her a bottle of water, and a small handful of some sort of plant. She sniffed it warily. Mint. "It's the best alternative we have."

Percy thanked him anyway and went to the edge of the clearing to make do with the personal-hygiene materials she had. When she came back, Grover was back too, handing a giddy Will a couple bottles and holding a pink poodle.

"Oh, Percy," Grover said as soon as he noticed her. "This is Gladiola. He's our ticket west. Be nice to him."

Percy looked at Will, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. "He's kidding, right?"

"Nope," Will said cheerfully. "Say hi. I said hi."

"I'm not saying hi to a pink poodle."

Gladiola growled, and Will mock-glared at Percy. She sighed heavily and muttered hello to the poodle. As soon as Grover turned around, though, Will just winked at her, looking like he was barely suppressing a laugh. In response, she just stuck her tongue out at him. Real mature, she knew.

"Where'd you find him?" Percy asked as Will unscrewed the bottle and popped a pill in his mouth. "Wait, Will, you probably shouldn't be eating random—"

"I used the twenty dollars to buy some Advil and aspirin," Grover cut in, and then shrugged sheepishly. "I also swiped several bags of chips but it was Target and they're a polluting company. Also, I found Gladiola in the woods when I was going shopping. He ran away from a rich local family, and he doesn't really want to go back, but there's apparently a pretty good reward for his return and he's willing to help me out."

"How do you know there's a reward?"

"Gladiola told me."

"Ah." Percy felt a bit lost. "And how does he know that?"

"He read the signs. Duh."

"Of course," Percy muttered, getting a playful jab in the ribs by Will. "Silly me. So the plan?"

"We return Gladiola, get money, and then buy tickets to Los Angeles. Pretty simple."

She thought about her dream—the whispering voices of the dead, the thing in the chasm, and her mother's face, shimmering as it dissolved into gold. All that might be waiting for her in the West.

"Too simple," Percy murmured again. "Something's bound to go wrong. I've known Greek mythology long enough to know that."

"Oh, probably. But at least no buses this time." He pointed downhill, toward train tracks Percy hadn't seen last night in the dark. "There's an Amtrak station half a mile that way. According to Gladiola, the west-bound train leaves at noon." Then he frowned. "And I'm a literal medic, Percy. I think I know when to take aspirin."

This chapter was short so it didn't take much time to finish, so here it is!

I do have a question: should the next chapter be on the St. Louis Arch like in canon, or somewhere else? If it's SLA, it'll take less time to write up, but I feel like it doesn't make much sense story-wise because Annabeth only wanted to go originally since she wanted to be an architect, but none of them want to.

Anyway, that's about it. Thank you readers, and reviews are appreciated!