I DO NOT OWN PERCY JACKSON RICK RIORDAN DOES! I only have rights to Atlanta and, just Atlanta. The stories are still in Percy's POV, with my oc added in.
Chapter nine: I'm Offered a Quest
The next morning, Chiron moved me to Cabin three.
I didn't have to share with anybody. I had plenty of room for all my stuff: the Minotaur's horn, one set of spare clothes, and a toiletry bag. I got to sit at my own dinner table, picked all my own activities, call "lights out" whenever I felt like it, and not listen to anybody else.
And I was absolutely miserable.
I had tried to convince Chiron to let me take Atlanta with me, even trying to sneak her in. Chiron caught us with a sad look on his face. I knew he wanted nothing more than to let us get away with this, and turn a blind eye to it, but I knew he would get in trouble for it. Just when I'd started to feel accepted, to feel I had a home in cabin eleven, and I might be a normal kid-or as normal as you can be when you're a half-blood- I'd been separated out as if I had some rare disease.
Nobody mentioned the hellhound, but I got the feeling they were all talking about it behind my back. They were also talking about how Poseidon claimed one kid, and not the other. I'm pretty sure Atlanta was going to snap and tell all of camp I wasn't biologically her brother. The attack had scared everybody. It sent two messages: one, that I was the son of the Sea God; and two, monsters would stop at nothing to kill me. They would even invade a camp that had always been considered safe.
The other campers steered clear of me as much as possible. Atlanta was the only one who stayed with me for long periods of time. Cabin eleven was too nervous to have sword class with me after what I'd done to the Ares folks in the woods, so my lessons with Luke became one-on-one. He pushed me harder than ever, and wasn't afraid to bruise me up in the process.
"You're going to need all the training you can get," he promised, as we were working with swords and flaming torches. "Now let's try that viper-beheading strike again. Fifty more repetitions."
Annabeth still taught me Ancient Greek-but Chiron removed Atlanta from her lessons, saying he'd take over teaching her- in the mornings, but she seemed distracted. Every time I said something, she scowled at me, as if I'd just poke her between the eyes.
After lessons, she would walk away muttering to herself" Quest…Poseidon?...Dirty rotten…Got to make a plan…"
Even Clarisse kept her distance, though her venomous looks made it clear she wanted to kill me for breaking her magic spear. I wished she would just yell or punch me or something. I'd rather get into fights everyday than be ignored.
I knew somebody at camp resented me, because one night I came into my cabin and found a mortal newspaper dropped inside the doorway, a copy of the New York Daily News, opened to the Metro page. The article took me almost an hour to read, because the angrier I got, the more the words floated around the page.
SIBLINGS, AND MOTHER MISSING AFTER
FREAK CAR ACCIDNET
BY EILEEN SMYTHE
Sally Jackson and children, Percy and Atlanta are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family's badly burned '78 Camaro was discovered last Saturday on a north Long Island road with the roof ripped off and the front axle broken. The car had flipped and skidded for several hundred feet before exploding.
Mother, son and daughter had gone for a weekend vacation to Montauk, but left hastily, under mysterious circumstances. Small traced of blood were found in the car and near the scene of the wreck, but there were no other signa of the missing Jacksons. Residents in the rural area reported seeing nothing unusual around the time of the accident.
Ms. Jackson's husband, Gabe Ugliano, claims that his stepson Percy Jackson are troubled child who had been kicked out of numerous boarding schools and had expressed violent tendencies in the past.
Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his mother's and sister's disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson and Percy and Atlanta. Police urge anyone with information to call the following too-free crime-stoppers hotline.
The phone number was circled in black marker.
I wadded up the paper and threw it away, then flopped down in my bunk bed in the middle of my empty cabin.
"Lights out," I told myself miserably.
That night I had my worst dream yet.
I was running along with beach in a storm. Atlanta was with me, running by my side. This time, there was a city behind us. Not New York. The sprawl was different: buildings spread farther apart, palm trees and low hills in the distance.
About a hundred yards down the serf, two men were fighting. They looked like TV wrestlers, muscular, with beards and long hair. Both wore flowing Greek tunics, one trimmed in blue, the other in green. They grappled with each other, wrestled, kicked and head-butted, and every time they connected, lightning flashed, the sky grew darker, and the wind rose.
We had to stop them. I didn't know why. But the harder Atlanta and I ran, the more the wind blew me back, until I was running in place, my heels digging uselessly in the sand.
Over the roar of the storm, I could hear the blue-robed one yelling at the green-robed one, Give it back! Like a kindergartener fighting over a toy.
The waves got bigger, crashed into the beach, spraying us with salt.
Atlanta and I yelled, Stop it! Stop fighting! The ground shook. Laughter came from somewhere under the earth, and a voice so deep and evil it turned my blood to ice. Atlanta had screamed falling to her knees and covering her ears. I wanted to comfort her, but I couldn't move.
Come down, little hero, the voice crooned. Come down my little weapon!
The sand split beneath us, opening up crevice straight down to the center of the earth. Atlanta slipped farther in as my feet slipped, and darkness swallowed me and Atlanta.
I woke up, sure I was falling.
I was still in bed in cabin three. My body told me it was morning, but it was dark outside, and thunder rolled across the hills. A storm was brewing. I hadn't dreamed that.
My door burst opened, making me jump. Atlanta had bolted in, crying and shaking. I opened my arms, and she ran for me hugging me tightly as she cried. I held on to her tightly, not wanting to let go. I heard a clopping sound at the door, a hoof knocking on the threshold.
"Come in?"
Grover trotted inside, looking worried. "Mr. D wants to see you."
"Why?"
"He wants to kill….I mean, I'd better let him tell you."
Nervously, I got dressed, and followed, sure that I was in huge trouble. Atlanta followed holding my hand tightly. I squeezed her hand back, letting her know I was here.
For days, I'd been half expecting a summons to the Big House. Now that I was declared a son of Poseidon, one of the Big Three gods who weren't supposed to have kids, I figured it was a crime for me being alive. The other gods had probably been debating the best way to punish me for existing, and now Mr. D was ready to deliver their verdict.
Over Long Island Sound, the sky looked like ink soup coming to a boil. A hazy curtain of rain was coming in our direction. I asked Grover if we needed an umbrella.
"No," he said. "It never rains here unless we want it to."
I pointed at the storm. "What the heck is that, then?"
He glanced uneasily at the sky. "It'll pass around us. Bad weather always does."
I realized he was right. In the week Atlanta and I'd been here, it had never been overcast. The few rain clouds I'd seen had skirted right around the edges of the valley.
But this storm…this one was huge.
At the volleyball pit, the kids from Apollo's cabin were playing a morning game against the satyrs. Dionysus's twins were walking around in the strawberry fields, making the plants grow. Everybody was going about their normal business, but they looked tense. They kept their eyes on the storm.
Grover, Atlanta, and I walked up to the front porch of the Big House. Dionysus sat at the pinochle table in his tiger stripped Hawaiian shirt with his Diet Coke, just as he had on our first day. Chiron sat across the table in his fake wheelchair. They were playing against invisible opponents-two sets of cards hovering in the air.
"Well, well," Mr. D said without looking up. "Our little celebrity.
I waited.
"Come closer," Mr. D said. "And don't expect me to kowtow to you, mortal, just because old Barnacle-Beard is your father."
Atlanta snorted a little laughing through her tears. I was grateful towards him for cheering her up a little, though I was never going to tell him that. A net of lightning flashed across the clouds. Thunder shook the windows of the house.
"Blah, blah, blah," Dionysus said.
Chiron feigned interest in his pinochle cards, though peeked at Atlanta from the corner of his eyes. Grover cowered by the railing, his hooves clopping back and forth.
"If I had my way," Dionysus said, "I would cause your molecules to erupt in flames. We'd sweep up the ashes and be done with a lot of trouble. But Chiron seems to feel this would be against my mission at this cursed camp: to keep you little brats safe from harm."
"Spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, Mr. D," Chiron put in.
"Nonsense," Dionysus said. "Boy wouldn't feel a thing. Nevertheless, I've agreed to restrain myself. I'm thinking of turning you into a dolphin instead, sending you back to your father."
"Mr. D-" Chiron warned.
"Oh, all right," Dionysus relented. "There's on more option. But it's deadly foolishness." Dionysus rose, and the invisible players' cards dropped to the table. "I'm off to Olympus for the emergency meeting. If the boy is still here when I get back, I'll turn him into Atlantic bottlenose. Do you understand? And Perseus Jackson, if you're at all smart, you'll see that's a much more sensible choice than what Chiron feels you must do."
Dionysus picked up a playing card, twisting it, and it became a plastic rectangle. A credit card? No. A security pass.
He snapped his fingers.
The air seemed to fold and bend around him. He became a hologram, then a wind then he was gone, leaving the smell of fresh-pressed grapes lingering behind.
Chiron smiled at me and Atlanta, who seemed to stop crying a bit, but looked tired and strained. "Sit, Percy, Atlanta please. And Grover."
We did.
Chiron laid his cards on the table, a winning hand he hadn't gotten to use.
"Tell me, Percy," he said. "What did you make of the hellhound?"
Just hearing the name made me shudder.
Chiron probably wanted me to say, Heck, it was nothing. I eat hellhounds for breakfast. But I didn't feel like lying.
"It scared me," I said. "If you hadn't shot it, I'd be dead."
"You'll meet worse, Percy. Far worse, before you're done."
"Done…with, what?" Atlanta asked sniffing.
"His quest of course. Will you accept it?"
I glance at Grover, who was crossing his fingers.
"Um sir," I said. "you haven't told me what it is yet."
Chiron grimaced. "Well, that's the hard part, the details."
Thunder rumbled across the valley. Storm clouds had now reached the edge of the beach. As far as I could see the sky and sea were boiling together.
"Poseidon and Zeus," Atlanta said. "They're fighting."
"Fighting over something valuable….something that was stolen, aren't they?" I asked.
Chiron and Grover exchanged looks.
Chiron sat forward in his wheelchair. "How did you know that?"
My face felt hot. I wished I hadn't opened my big mouth. "The weather since Christmas had been weird, like the sea and sky are fighting. Then we talked to Annabeth, and she'd overheard something about a theft. And….I've also been having these dreams."
"I knew it," Grover said,
"Hush, satyr," Chiron ordered.
"But it is his quest!" Grover's eyes were bright with excitement. "It must be!"
"Only the Oracle can determine." Chiron stroked his bristly beard. "Nevertheless, Percy, Atlanta, you are correct. Your father and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt."
I laughed nervously. "A what?"
"Do not take this lightly," Atlanta warned. "He's not talking about some tinfoil-covered zigzag we'd see in a second-grade play. He's talking about a two-foot-long cylinder of high-grade celestial bronze, capped on both ends with god-level explosives."
Chiron and Grover looked shocked and confused on how she knew that. Atlanta looked confused on how she knew it too.
"Oh."
"Zeus's master bolt," Chiron said, getting over his shock. "The symbol of his power, from which all other lightning bolts are patterned. The first weapon made by the Cyclopes for the war against the Titans, the bolt that sheered the top of Mount Etna and hurled Kronos from his throne; the master bolt, which packs enough power to make mortal hydrogen bombs look like firecrackers."
"And it's missing?"
"Stolen," Chiron said.
"By who?"
"By whom," Chiron corrected. Once a teacher, always a teacher. "By you."
My mouth fell open.
"At least" -Chiron held up a hand-"that's what Zeus thinks. Durning the winter solstice, at the last council of the gods, Zeus and Poseidon had an argument. The usual nonsense: 'Mother Rhea always liked you best,' 'Air disasters are more spectacular than sea disasters,' et cetera. Afterward, Zeus realized his master bolt was missing, taken from the throne room under his very nose. He immediately blamed Poseidon. Now, a god cannot usurp another god's symbol of power directly-that is forbidden by the most ancient of divine laws. But Zeus believes your father convinced a human hero to take it."
"But I didn't-"
"Patience and listen, child," Chiron said. "Zeus has good reason to be suspicious. The forges of the Cyclopes are under the ocean, which gives Poseidon some influence over the makers of his brother's lightning. Zeus believes Poseidon has taken the master bolt, and is now secretly having the Cyclopes build an arsenal of illegal copies, which might be used to topple Zeus from his throne The only thing Zeus wasn't sure about which hero Poseidon used to steal the bolt. Now Poseidon has openly claimed you as his son. You were in New York over the winter holidays. You could easily have snuck into Olympus Zeus believes he has found his thief."
"But he's never been to Olympus! Zeus is crazy!" Atlanta said.
Chiron and Grover glanced nervously at the sky., The clouds didn't seem to be parting over our valley, sealing us in like a coffin lid.
"Er, Atlanta…?" Grover said. "We don't use the c-word to describe the Lord of the Sky."
"Perhaps paranoid," Chiron suggested. "Then again, Poseidon had tried to unseat Zeus before. I believe that was question thirty-eight on your final exam…" He looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question thirty-eight.
How could anyone accuse me and Atlanta from stealing a god's weapon? We couldn't even steal a slice of pizza from Gabe's poker parties without getting busted. Chiron was waiting for an answer, luckily Atlanta answered first.
"The golden net," Atlanta said. "Poseidon, Hera, Apollo and Athena trapped Zeus and wouldn't let him out until he promised to be a better ruler. Poseidon and Apollo were turned into mortal for seven years, Hera was hung over Olympus as punishment, but Athena talked her way out of it, playing the 'Daddy's favorite' card."
Grover and I snickered. I wonder how often Zeus falls for that trick.
"Correct," Chiron said with a slight chuckle. "And Zeus has never trusted Poseidon since. Of course, Poseidon denies stealing the master bolt. He took great offense at the accusation. The two have been arguing back and forth for months, threatening war. And now, you've both come along-the proverbial last straw."
"But we're just kids!" I said.
"Percy, Atlanta," Grover cut in. "if you were Zeus, and you already thought your brother was plotting to overthrow you, then your brother suddenly admitted he had broken the sacred oath he took after World War II, that he's fathered a new mortal hero who might be used as a weapon-Atlanta tensed up and I felt another shaking fit-against you…Wouldn't that put a twist in your toga?"
"But we didn't do anything. Poseidon-my dad-he didn't really have the master bolt stolen did he?"
Chiron sighed. "Most thinking observers would agree that thievery is not Poseidon's style. But the Sea god is too proud to try convincing Zeus of that. Zeus has demanded that Poseidon return the bolt by the summer solstice. That's June twenty-first, ten days from now. Poseidon wants an apology for being called a thief by the same date. I hoped that diplomacy might prevail, that Hera or Demeter or Hestia would make the two brothers see sense. But yours and Atlanta's arrival has inflamed Zeus's temper. Now neither god will back down. Unless someone intervenes, unless the master bolt is found and returned to Zeus before the solstice, there will be war. And do you know what a full-fledged war would look like Percy, Atlanta?"
"Bad?" I guessed.
"Imagine the world in chaos. Nature at war with itself. Olympians forced to choose sides between Zeus and Poseidon. Destruction. Carnage. Millions dead. Western civilization turned into a battleground so big it will make the Trojan War look like a water-balloon fight."
"Bad," Atlanta repeated.
"And you, Percy Jackson, would be the first to feel Zeus's wrath."
It started to rain. Volleyball players stopped their game and started in stunned silence at the sky.
I had brought this storm to Half-Blood Hill. Zeus was punishing the whole camp because of me. I was furious.
"So I have to find the stupid bolt," I said. "And return it to Zeus."
"What better peace offering," Chiron said, "than to have the son of Poseidon return Zeus's property?"
"If Poseidon doesn't have it, where is the thing?"
"I believe I know," Chiron's expression was grim. "Part of a prophecy I had years ago…well, some of the lines make sense to me now. But before I can say more, you must officially take up the quest. You must seek the counsel of the Oracle."
"Why can't you tell Percy where the bolt is beforehand?" Atlanta asked.
"Because if I did, Percy would be too afraid to accept the challenge.
Atlanta paled and I swallowed. "Good reason."
"You agree then?"
I looked at Grover, who nodded encouragingly.
Easy for him. I was the one Zeus wanted to kill.
"All right," I said. "It's better than being turned into a dolphin."
"Then it's time you consulted the Oracle," Chiron said. "Go upstairs, Percy Jackson, to the attic. When you come back down, assuming you're still sane, we will talk more."
Four flights up, the stairs ended under a green trapdoor.
I pulled the cord. The door swung down, and a wooden ladder clattered into place.
The warm air from above smelled like mildew and rotten wood and something else…a smell I remembered from biology class. Reptiles. The smell of snakes.
I held my breath and climbed.
The attic was filled with Greek hero junk: armor stands covered in cobwebs; once-bright shields pitted with rust; old leather steamer trunks plastered with stickers saying ITHAKA, CIRCE'S ISLE, and LAND OF THE AMAZONS. One long table was stacked with glass jars filled with pickled things-severed hairy claws, huge yellow eyes, various other parts of monsters. A dusty mounted trophy on the wall looked like a giant snake's head, but with horns and a full set of shark's teeth. The plaque read, HYDRA HEAD #1, WOODSTOCK, N.Y., 1969.
By the window, sitting on a wooden tripod stool, was the most gruesome memento of all: a mummy. Not the wrapped-in-cloth kind, but a human female body shriveled to a husk. She wore a tie-dyed sundress, lots of beaded necklaces, and a headband over long black hair. The skin of her face was thin and leathery over her skull, and her eyes were glassy white slits, as if the real eyes had been replaced by marbles; she'd been dead a long, long time.
Looking at her sent chills up my back. And that was before she sat up on her stool and opened her mouth, coiling over the floor in thick tendrils, hissing like twenty thousand snakes. I stumbled over myself trying to get to the trapdoor, but it slammed shut. Inside my head, I heard a voice, slithering into one ear and coiling around my brain: I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask.
I wanted to say, No thanks, wrong door, just looking for the bathroom. But I forced myself to take a deep breath.
The mummy wasn't alive. She was some kind of gruesome receptacle for something else, the power that was now swirling around me in a green mist. But its presence didn't feel evil, like my demonic math teacher Mrs. Dodds or the Minotaur. It felt more like the Three Fates I'd seen knitting the yarn outside the highway fruit stand: ancient, powerful, and definitely not human. But not particularly interested in killing me, either.
I got up the courage to ask, "What is my destiny?"
The mist swirled more thickly, collecting right in front of me and around the table with the pickles monster-part jars. Suddenly there were four men sitting around the table, playing cards. Their faces became clear. It was Smelly Gabe and his buddies.
My fist clenched, though I knew this poker party couldn't be real. It was an illusion, made of the mist.
Gabe turned towards me and spoke in the rasping voice of the Oracle: You shall go west, and see it safely returned.
The guy on the left threw in two poker ships, then said: You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.
Finally, Eddie, our building super, delivered the worst line of all: And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end.
The figures began to dissolve. At first I was too stunned to say anything, but as the mist retreated, coiling into a huge green serpent and slithering back into the moth of the mummy, I cried, "Wait! What do you mean? What friend? What will I fail to save?"
The tail of the mist snake disappeared into the mummy's mouth. She reclined back against the wall. Her mouth closed tight, as if it hadn't been open in a hundred years. The attic was silent again, abandoned, nothing but a room full of mementos.
I got the feeling that I could stand here until I had cobwebs, too, and I wouldn't learn anything else.
My audience with the Oracle was over.
"Well?" Chiron asked me.
I slumped into a chair at the pinochle table. "She said I would retrieve what was stolen."
Grover sat forward chewing excitedly on the remains of a Diet Coke can. "That's great!"
"What did the Oracle say exactly?" Chiron pressed. "This is important."
My ears were still tingling from the reptilian voice. "She…she said I would go west and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned."
"I knew it," Grover said.
Chiron didn't look satisfied. "Anything else?"
I didn't want to tell him.
What friend would betray me? I didn't have that many. And the last line- I would fail to save what mattered most. What kind of Oracle would send me on a quest and tell me, Oh, but the way, you'll fail.
How could I confess that? One look from Atlanta and I knew, she knew I was lying about something.
"No," I said. "That's about it."
He studied my face. "Very well, Percy. But know this: The Oracle's words often have double meanings. Don't dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass."
I got the feeling he knew I was holding back something bad, and he was trying t make me feel better.
"Okay," I said, anxious to change topics. "So where do I go? Who's this god in the west?"
"Ah, think, Percy," Chiron said. "If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?"
"Somebody else who wants to take over?" I guessed.
I could hear Atlanta mummering to herself You… not… Hades…
"Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge, who had been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken."
I thought about my dreams, the evil voice that had spoken from underground.
Atlanta's eyes flashed solid gold, like they did when she was angry, but they quickly went back to her normal eye color. "Why must everyone blame Hades, for something going wrong? He's not like that, he would not want any of this. He's made at his family for treating him like an outcast, and forcing that oath on him. He's not a bad god."
Chiron looked at her with a sad smile, but nodded. "The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility."
A scrap of aluminum dribbled out of Grover's mouth. "Whoa, wait. Wh-what?"
"A fury came after Percy," Chiron reminded him. "She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, they tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades."
"Yes, but-but Hades hates all heroes," Grover protested. "Especially if he has found out Percy is a son of Poseidon…"
"A hellhound got into the forest," Chiron continued. "Those can only be summoned from the Fields of Punishment, and it had to be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseidon will trey to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on this quest."
"Great," I muttered. "That's two major gods who want to kill me."
"But a quest to…" Grover swallowed. "I mean, couldn't the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine's very nice this time of year."
"Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt," Chiron insisted. "He hit it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would blame Poseidon. I don't pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead's motives perfectly, or why he chose this time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth."
"And when that truth shows, Hades didn't do it, you owe him a written apology," Atlanta muttered.
A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: It wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. Hades had tried to kill me three times so far, with the Fury, the Minotaur-which also tried to kill Atlanta-, and the hellhound. It was his fault our mother disappeared in a flash of light. Now he was trying to frame me and my dad for a theft we hadn't committed.
I was ready to take him on.
Besides, if our mother was in the Underworld…
Whoa, boy, said the small part of my brain that was still sane. You're a kid. Hades is a god.
Grover was trembling. He'd started eating pinochle cards like potato chips.
The poor guy needed to complete a quest with me so he could get his searcher's license, whatever that was, but how could I ask him to do this quest, especially when the Oracle said I was destined to fail? This was suicide.
"Look if we know it's Hades," I told Chiron, "Why can't we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads."
"Please Hades would knock Zeus on his butt," Atlanta muttered. "Poseidon not so much."
"Suspecting and knowing are tot the same," Chiron said. "Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades-and I imagine Poseidon does-they couldn't retrieve the bolt themselves. God cannot cross each other's territories expect by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they're bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero's actions. Why do you think the gods always operate though humans?"
"You're saying Percy's being used?" Atlanta asked.
"I'm saying it's no accident Poseidon had claimed your brother now. It's a very risky gamble, but he's in a desperate situation. He needs Percy."
My dad needs me.
Emotions rolled around inside me like bits of glass in a kaleidoscope. I didn't know whether to feel resentful or grateful or happy or angry. Poseidon had ignored me for twelve years. Now suddenly he needed me.
I looked at Chiron. "You've known I was Poseidon's son all along, haven't you?"
"I had my suspicions. As I said…I've spoken to the Oracle, too."
I got the feeling there was a lot he wasn't telling me about his prophecy, but I decided I couldn't worry about that right now. After all, I was holding back information too.
"So let me get this straight," I said. "I'm supposed go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead."
"Check," Chiron said.
"Find the most powerful weapon in the universe."
"Check."
"And get it back to Olympus before the summer solstice, in ten days."
"That's about right."
I looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.
"Did I mention Maine is very nice this time of year?" he asked weakly.
"You don't have to come," Atlanta told him. "We can't ask that of you."
If Atlanta hadn't beaten me to it, I'd say the same thing.
"Oh…" He shifted his hooves. "No…it's just that satyrs and underground places…well…:
He took a deep breath, then stood, brushing the shredded cards and aluminum bits off his T-shirt. "You both saved my life, Percy, Atlanta. If…if you're series about wanting me along I won't let you down."
I felt so relived I wanted to cry, though I didn't think that would be very heroic. Grover was the only friend-sorry Atlanta love you, but I need a guy-friend- I'd ever had for longer then a few months-=. I wasn't sure what a good satyr could do against the forces of the dead, but I felt better knowing he'd be with me.
"All the way, G-man." I turned to Chiron. "So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go west."
"The entice of the Underworld is always west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course it's in America."
"Where?" Atlanta asked.
Chiron looked surprised. "I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles."
"Oh," Atlanta said. "Naturally. So we just get on a plan-"
"No!" Grover shrieked. "Atlanta, what are you thinking? Have you and Percy ever been on a plane in your lives?"
Atlanta and I shook our heads, I felt embarrassed. Our mom had never taken us anywhere by plane. She'd always said we didn't have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.
"Percy, Atlanta think," Chiron said. "you're both the children of the Sea God. Your father's bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you two in an airplanes. You both would be in Zeus's domain. You would never come down again alive."
Atlanta looked ready to tell him that she was in fact, not my biological sister. Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.
"Really Zeus can't let go of that pride long enough for us to get his little toy back? Baby," Atlanta muttered.
"Okay," I said, determined not to look at the storm. "So, we'll travel overland."
"That's right." Chiron said. "Three companions may accompany you. Grover and Atlanta are two. The other has already volunteered, if you will accept her help."
"Gee," I said, feigning surprise. "Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?"
The air shimmered behind Chiron.
Annabeth became visible, stuffing her Yankees cap into her back pocket.
"I've been waiting long time for a quest, seaweed brain," she said. Athena is no fan of Poseidon, bit if you're going to save the world, I'm the best person to keep you from messing up."
"If you do say so yourself," I said. "I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?"
Her cheeks colored as Atlanta snickered. "Do you want my help or not?"
The truth was, I did. I needed all the help I could get.
"A quartet," Atlanta said. "It'll work."
"Excellent," Chiron said. "This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you ar eon your own."
Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that never supposed to have violent weather.
"No time to waste," Chiron said. "I think you should all get packing."