I do not own Harry Potter or Percy Jackson.
AN: Slightly updated as of 6/1/2018
Chapter Nine: Los Angeles
By Chrysa's count, it was June 20th by the time that Percy figured out something was wrong. He had already freed Annabeth and the satyr – though the satyr still looked half-entranced and had his arms held tightly by Annabeth and Percy – when he found her at playing Mythomagic with Nico. Bianca, unfortunately, was elsewhere in the casino.
"Chrysa!" Percy exclaimed. "We need to go. This place is a trap!"
Chrysa laid down her cards and stood up swiftly.
"I was wondering when you'd figure it out. I'm ready if you are."
Nico looked heartbroken.
"You're leaving already?" he asked despondently.
Chrysa smiled sadly at him and carded her fingers through his hair.
"It's all right, Nico. I'll come back and see you soon. Tell your sister, alright?"
"Alright," Nico said, standing up and embracing Chrysa. "I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you too, tesoro," Chrysa whispered into his ear. "I love you very much. Tell your sister I love here?"
"Of course," Nico said with a smile.
Chrysa waved goodbye to him as she walked away.
"I'll see you soon!" she called.
The Lotus bellhop hurried up to them when they hit the lobby.
"Well, now, are you ready for your platinum cards?" he asked.
"We're leaving," Percy said firmly.
"Such a shame," he said earnestly. "We just added an entire new floor full of games for platinum-card members."
He held out the cards. The satyr reached for one, but Annabeth yanked back his arm and said, "No, thanks."
They walked out of the door, and into much different weather than they'd walked in under. It was still midafternoon, but now it was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.
Percy ran to check the nearest newspaper stand. Chrysa noted that Ares' backpack was now on his shoulder. The other three followed close behind him.
"It's been five days," he told them. "We only have one day left. What should we do?"
Annabeth pulled out the green LotusCash card and held it up.
"We take a taxi," she replied.
All four of them got into a taxi-van, and Annabeth told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."
"That's three hundred miles," the cabbie said as he chewed his cigar. "For that, you gotta pay up front."
"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.
He shrugged.
"Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."
Annabeth handed him her green LotusCash card. He looked at it skeptically.
"Swipe it," Annabeth invited.
He did, and the meter machine began rattling. Finally, an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.
The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth, and he looked back at them with widened eyes.
"Where to in Los Angeles…uh, Your Highness?"
"The Santa Monica pier," Annabeth instructed, sitting up a little straighter. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."
The cab's speedometer never dropped below ninety-five the entire way through the Mojave Desert.
Once the privacy shield was up, Percy said, "I had another dream, but I can't remember it all."
"Tell us, Percy," Chrysa urged.
"I was back in the dark cavern, spirits of the dead everywhere. The thing in the pit was speaking again, but it wasn't talking to me this time. There was a throne room, too. It asked if someone – a 'he' – suspected anything, and it had this invisible servant that said no. The servant, I think it was a male, it sounded like someone I know, but I don't know who. The servant called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord" …some special title or name…" Percy said, his voice trailing off.
"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."
"Maybe," Percy replied, though he sounded doubtful.
"That throne room sounds like Hades'," the satyr said. "That's the way it's usually described."
Percy shook his head.
"Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit…I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."
Something was niggling in the back of Chrysa's mind. More specifically, something was niggling in the back of Leuke's mind. She decided to let the children finish their thoughts first. Maybe she could make some more connections.
Annabeth's eyes widened.
"What?" Percy asked.
"Oh…nothing. I was just – No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible thief, to get the Master Bolt, and something went wrong…"
"Like what?" Percy questioned.
"I-I don't know. But if he stole Zeus' symbol of power from Olympus, and the gods were hunting him, I mean, a lot of things could go wrong. So this thief had to hide the bolt, or he lost it somehow. Anyway, he failed to bring it to Hades. That's what the voice said in your dream, right? The guy failed. That would explain what the Furies were searching for when they came after us on the bus. Maybe they thought we had retrieved the Bolt."
"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," Percy said, "why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"
"To threaten Hades," the satyr suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."
Percy whistled.
"You have evil thoughts for a goat."
"Why, thank you," the satyr replied.
"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," Percy said. "If the Master Bolt is one, what's the other?"
The satyr shook his head. Annabeth looked a bit paler. Chrysa knew what the second item was.
"Percy," she asked in a low voice. "The name the servant called the thing in the pit by…was it perhaps the Crooked One?"
Percy's face lit up.
"Yeah! That was it!"
Chrysa felt her already pale skin pale further. Annabeth and the satyr both looked on the verge of shock.
"But…he's…he's dead!" the satyr exclaimed.
Chrysa shook her head.
"Not dead. Just dissipated. It's always possible to reform in Tartarus, just as the monsters reform in Tartarus. This time, it just took a really, really long time. Ancient things are awakening, things that haven't been seen since the ancient days…" her voice trailed off as her mind drifted to what other ancient things might be returning. Her uncles, certainly. Potentially followed by her grandmother.
"This is bigger than we know," she said abruptly. "We must continue to the Underworld, but this quest will not proceed as we expected it to. If at any point I tell you to run, I expect you to run away and not look back, understand?"
All three looked confused.
"But what if you need help?" Percy asked.
"Then I will get it. But if it comes to the point where I need help, you will not be able to aid me. You will need to run. Run far, run fast. Run to the ocean, if you can. It will protect you, Percy, and you can use it to protect Annabeth and…" she glanced at the satyr, before wincing and saying, "Grover. Trust me on this."
"Alright," Percy said confused.
"The answer is in the Underworld," Annabeth said. "You saw the spirits of the dead, Percy. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."
The cab continued to speed west, and they spent most of the rest of the journey in awkward conversations about the Land of the Dead. Chrysa spent it in silence hoping – praying that Kronos was not well on his way to returning.
They arrived at the beach at Santa Monica around sunset and walked down to the edge of the surf.
"What now?" Annabeth asked.
"Now Percy and I go talk to a sea-nymph," Chrysa said, kicking off her shoes and tying her hair back.
"You? But – you're the daughter of the Lord of the Sky. Should you really be going into the ocean while Zeus and Poseidon are on the verge of war?" Annabeth asked.
"I'm also Poseidon's great-granddaughter. Besides, Uncle and I had a short chat when Ares kidnapped me. He bears no ill feelings towards me," Chrysa said.
Percy turned violently to Chrysa. "You talked to my dad?"
Chrysa smiled at him.
"Walk and talk, Percy. We don't have much time."
They walked into the surf together, past their ankles, up to their waists, up to their chests.
Annabeth called after them, "You know how polluted that water is? There's all kinds of toxic…"
Their heads went under.
Chrysa could tell that Percy was still holding his breath. She was far more used to breathing underwater than he was.
They walked down into the shoals and beds of sand-dollars. A pair of mako sharks met them there.
Chrysa grabbed onto the fin of one mako shark and watched Percy grab onto the other. The sharks deposited them at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. The surface shimmered a hundred and fifty feet above them.
A Nereid glimmered in the darkness below them. "Percy Jackson," she called. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk, and rode a stallion-sized seahorse.
She dismounted, and the seahorse went off to play with the mako sharks. She only looked mildly surprised to see Chrysa.
"We were wondering whether you would come, little cousin."
"I'm here," Chrysa said, extending her arms and gesturing towards herself. "I am chaperoning this adventure. I'm chaperoning Percy to make sure you are a Nereid sent by Lord Poseidon and not a clever trap to kill him."
The Nereid looked offended.
"Nothing in the ocean would kill our Sea Prince."
"You have yet to tell us your name," Chrysa pointed out.
"Ah," the Nereid said. "I am Iphianassa." She turned to smile at Percy. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."
He bowed to her, looking slightly bewildered.
"You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River," he said.
"Yes, child. I am a Nereid, a spirit of the sea. It was not easy to appear so far upriver, but the naiads, my freshwater cousins, helped sustain my life force. They honor Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court," Iphianassa said.
"And…you serve in Poseidon's court?" Percy asked.
She nodded.
"It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest."
"If my father is so interested in me," Percy said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?"
"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," Iphianassa said. "He stands at the brink of an unwanted war. He has much to occupy his time. Besides, he is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism."
"Even to their own children?" Percy asked.
"Especially to them. The gods can work by indirect influence only. That is why I give you a warning, and a gift."
She held out her hand and extended three white pearls to Percy.
"I know you journey to Hades' realm," she said. "Few mortals have ever done this and survived: Orpheus, who had great music skill; Hercules, who had great strength; Houdini, who could escape even the depths of Tartarus. Do you have these talents?"
"Um…no, ma'am."
"Ah, but you have something else, Percy. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."
"What will happen?" Percy asked.
"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."
"What about the warning?" Percy asked.
Her eyes flickered with green light.
"Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Hades feeds on doubt and hopelessness. He will trick you if he can, make you mistrust your own judgment. Once you are in his realm, he will never willingly let you leave."
Chrysa bristled at the insult to her husband. He did not keep people in the Underworld unjustly. Except Seph, but that was a different story.
"Keep faith," the Nereid instructed. "Good luck, Percy Jackson."
She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.
"Wait!" Percy called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?"
"Goodbye, young hero," she called back. "You must listen to your heart. And Lady Chrysa? There are some who would speak to you if you would wait behind."
"I'll wait," Chrysa called back, but Iphianassa had already faded into a spot of green light. "Go on back, Percy. I'll catch up, no matter where you are."
"Okay," Percy said uncertainly, before kicking back towards shore.
It wasn't until he had disappeared onto land that the others appeared.
Chrysa felt tears begin to fall at the sight of them. She had not seen her first family in a long, long time.
"Pleione," she greeted, her voice choking up. "Hesione. Philyra. Clymene. Mother. Father."
Four Oceanides and two Titans stood before her. A fifth swam up, with a fishtail instead of legs.
"Sorry I'm late," she said, but that was all it took for Chrysa to throw herself into her dark-haired sister's arms.
"Amphitrite! I thought I wouldn't see you until the dinner party!"
Amphitrite wrapped her arms around her older/younger sister in turn.
"That was the plan, but Poseidon told me about the conversation you two had a few days ago, and when I received word that you were here…" she shrugged. "I had to come see my favorite sister."
"That's hurtful, Trite," Pleione said. "Really hurtful. What are we, chopped liver?"
"Fish guts, actually," Amphitrite replied promptly, causing all of them to laugh.
"But seriously, what are all of you doing here?"
"We've missed you, daughter," Oceanus rumbled.
"It's been a very long time, Leuke," Tethys added.
The sight of her parents reminded her on the threat they might soon be facing.
"Mother. Father. If Kronos returns and attempts to take back his throne…will you join him?"
Tethys immediately looked offended that she had to ask, but Oceanus was much harder to read.
"I don't know," he said finally. "It depends on what offer he makes me."
"If you do," Chrysa said slowly, "as your firstborn daughter, could you at least do me the favor of warning me – preferably from a distance – before you try to kill me?"
"If he won't, I will," Tethys said firmly, giving her husband a sharp glare.
Distant or not, Leuke was and always would be their firstborn. She was probably one of their most-liked children as well, due to having a brain and not taking over her parents' domain. That instead lay in the hands of Amphitrite.
"How long can you stay?" Philyra asked.
Philyra was the second-eldest of the elder Oceanides – after Leuke herself – but one of the least intelligent. It was Philyra who had been seduced by Kronos in the form of a horse, which had caused her to later give birth to the first centaur, Chiron.
Chrysa glanced at her Rolex.
"No later than midnight," she said finally. "I'm babysitting, and I don't want those kids getting into any more trouble."
"That still gives us more than three hours," Hesione pointed out. "We've got you until then."
Chrysa smiled at her sisters and her parents.
"You've got me until then," she confirmed.
It was with a heavy heart that Chrysa left them behind several hours later. Philyra had whined and cajoled her to stay longer, but Chrysa had been firm in her decision to leave precisely at midnight.
It hadn't taken more than a minute to get back to shore, and a Drying Charm took care of her dripping clothes. She cast a quick tracking charm, and followed the invisible tug all the way to the entrance of the DOA Recording Studios.
She walked in with confidence, and was unsurprised to see that none of the kids were there. Charon was though, and he told her, "I just took them down, Lady. If you hurry, you'll catch up."
"Thank you, Charon," Chrysa replied, before shadow-traveling to the other side of the Styx. She could see Cerberus standing over the lines of the dead up ahead. Unlike most of the people who came through here, the shadows and mist did not hinder her vision at all. She watched as Cerberus sat down and was rewarded by a small red ball. She assumed it must be the kids.
She used her shadows to displace space as she stepped forward, moving her closer and closer to the kids at a rapid pace.
While she ran, she heard the metal detector scream, "Unauthorized possessions! Magic detected!"
Chrysa sighed and muttered to herself, "Really, kids? Why did you think there was a metal detector?"
She finally had line-of-sight on Percy, Annabeth, and the satyr several miles into Asphodel Fields. Hades' palace was already visible in the distance.
She heard the satyr yelp, and he started to be tugged away across the ground by his flying shoes. He wasn't being tugged towards Hades' palace – no, he was being pulled towards Tartarus.
Chrysa cursed under her breath and shadow-traveled as close to the entrance as she was willing to go. She grabbed the satyr as he passed by, and the sudden yank was enough for his left shoe to come off. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but the combined counterweight of Chrysa and the satyr managed to slow it enough that the satyr was able to kick the shoe off.
Percy and Annabeth caught up at that moment, looking relieved that Chrysa had found them.
"How did you get here so quickly?" Percy asked. "We wandered around LA for half the night!"
Chrysa shrugged. "Part of my job is to know where to find the gods. I knew where the DOA Recording Studios was. Any issues?"
"We ran into Procrustes the Stretcher, but he won't be hurting anyone for a while," Annabeth said firmly.
It took Chrysa a minute to recall that myth.
"Ah. Who chopped his head off?"
"Percy," Annabeth said.
The satyr still looked panicked.
"I don't know how…" he panted. "I didn't…"
"Wait," Percy said. "Listen."
There was a whisper in the darkness.
"Percy, this place…" Annabeth began.
"Shh," Percy ordered, standing up.
The sound was getting louder, a muttering, evil voice from far, far below us. It was coming from the pit.
Chrysa recognized the words it said – rather, Leuke recognized the words it said. She recognized the voice too, but she knew better than to say his name when he was so close.
"What's that noise?" the satyr asked, sitting up.
"Tartarus," Annabeth said solemnly. "The entrance to Tartarus."
Percy uncapped his sword, and the voice faltered for a moment, before resuming his chant.
"Magic," Percy whispered.
"We have to get out of here," Annabeth said.
Chrysa drew her sword – her proper sword, not the celestial bronze one on her belt. The Stygian iron blade was enough to make the monster in the pit think twice.
"Go," she ordered. "Go now. I'll be right behind you."
Annabeth and Percy dragged the satyr up and started back up the tunnel. The voice grew louder and angrier, and all four broke into a run.
A cold wind pulled at them, as if the pit itself were inhaling. Knowing Tartarus, he probably was.
Percy lost his balance for a moment, but Chrysa dragged him up with superhuman strength and pushed him towards the exit.
They finally reached the top of the tunnel and broke out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died. A wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. He was not happy that they'd gotten away.
"What was that?" the satyr panted. "One of Hades' pets?"
"Something much worse," Chrysa replied grimly as they collapsed in the relative safety of a grove of white poplar.
The white poplar trees both amused and annoyed Chrysa. On one hand, they were a monument of Hades' affection for her. On the other hand, she'd been turned into a tree and did not like the reminder of it.
They only rested for a few minutes more. Percy capped his sword and put the pen back into his pocket.
"Let's keep going," he said. He looked at the satyr. "Can you walk?"
The satyr gulped. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes anyway."
Even as they walked, Chrysa kept her senses focused outwards, searching for any remainder of the threat in the pit. He had many allies, if he was returning.
They made their way into Hades' palace. The Furies were circling the parapets. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open. They continued on into the gardens of Persephone, which were a strange arrangement of flowers and jewels and poisons, all held together in a display of macabre beauty.
They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the palace. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor that seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling on this part of the palace, just the cavern roof far above. The guards stood at the doorways, grotesque skeletons in multiple centuries of military armaments. The main doors were guarded by skeletal Marines with rocket-propelled grenade launchers.
"You know," the satyr mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."
"Well, guys," Percy said. "I suppose we should…knock?"
Chrysa nodded distractedly, and gestured discreetly. A hot wind blew down the corridor and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.
"I guess that means entrez-vous," Annabeth said.
The throne room looked as it always did, and Hades looked as magnificent on his throne as ever. He was ten feet tall at the moment – probably to impress the kids – and wore black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was paler than Chrysa's own, his hair shoulder-length and the same jet-black. He radiated power as he lounged on his throne fused of human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.
"You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," Hades said, his voice smooth and oily. It nearly made Chrysa weak at the knees. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."
Hades glanced at Chrysa, as if he knew what his voice was doing to her. The glimmer in his eyes said he did. The slight twitch of his face when Percy stepped forward told her that he wanted to hear Percy out before he heard Chrysa's report.
"Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests," Percy said bravely.
Hades raised an imperious eyebrow.
"Only two requests?" he scoffed. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."
Percy swallowed and glanced at the black flower-throne to Hades' left. That one belonged to Persephone. There was another throne to Hades' right, this one made of black stone, the shadows twisting all around it. According to Hades and Persephone, no one had ever removed Leuke's throne from its position beside Hades', though her shadows has stilled for as long as she had been dead. Hades said that it was a comfort to see her shadows move around her throne, even when she was not present.
Annabeth cleared her throat and prodded Percy in the back.
"Lord Hades," Percy began again. "Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be…bad."
"Really bad," the satyr added helpfully.
"Return Zeus' Master Bolt to me," Percy said. "Please sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."
Hades' eyes grew dangerously bright. Chrysa moved one of her shadows to run a soothing touch down his back, in an attempt to keep him from murdering her new favorite cousin.
"You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" he demanded.
"Um…Uncle," Percy said. "You keep saying, 'after what you've done.' What exactly have I done?"
The throne room shook with a tremor strong enough that they probably felt it in the city above. Hundreds of skeletal warriors marched in and lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits.
"Do you think I want war, godling?" Hades bellowed.
"You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy said carefully. "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"
"A typical thing for my brothers to say!" Hades spat. "Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of Asphodel Fields?"
"Well…"
"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone, how many subdivisions I've had to open?" Hades demanded. He was making his way into a familiar rant – familiar to Chrysa, at least.
"More security ghouls," Hades moaned. "Traffic problems at the judgment pavilion. Double overtime for the staff. I used to be a rich god, Percy Jackson. I control all the precious metals under the earth. But my expenses!"
"Charon wants a pay raise," Percy blurted out.
Chrysa winced. That was a whole other rant waiting to happen.
"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades yelled. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle them all! The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."
"But you took Zeus' Master Bolt," Percy said, confused.
"Lies!" Hades yelled as the throne room rumbled once more. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan."
"His plan?"
"You were the thief on the winter solstice. Your father thought to keep you his little secret. HE directed you into the throne room on Olympus. You took the Master Bolt and my helm. Had I not sent my Fury to discover you at Yancy Academy, Poseidon might have succeeded in hiding his scheme to start a war. But now you have been forced into the open. You will be exposed as Poseidon's thief, and I will have my helm back!"
"But…" Annabeth said, "Lord Hades, your Helm of Darkness is missing too?"
"Do not play innocent with me, girl. You and the satyr have been helping this hero – coming here to threaten me in Poseidon's name, no doubt – to bring me an ultimatum. Does Poseidon think I can be blackmailed into supporting him?"
"No!" Percy exclaimed. "Poseidon didn't – I didn't…"
"My Lord Hades," Chrysa said, stepping forward and bowing slightly. Technically, as a demigod before one of the Elder Gods, she should have bowed much more deeply, but she was Leuke Chrysocomê, and she would never bow subserviently to her Consort.
"I have been observing Perseus Jackson, as instructed, since his arrival at Camp Half-Blood and for the entirety of his quest. He did not steal the Master Bolt. He did not steal the Helm of Darkness. I knew that you also had no compliance in the theft, but there were other forces that wanted us to think that you did. When we entered Asphodel Fields, a pair of magical flying shoes given to satyr Grover Underwood – malfunctioned, I suppose you could say – and attempted to drag him away."
She paused a moment for dramatic effect.
"The shoes were attempting to drag him into Tartarus. A voice spoke from the depths of Tartarus in the Tongue of the Old Times, chanting a ritual of claiming, attempting to consume all four of us. Lord Tartarus himself attempted to breath us into his depths. I know the voice that spoke to us, my Lord. You know his name as well. It was Him."
Hades still looked furious, but he sat back down on his throne.
"I do not doubt what happened, but Perseus Jackson was involved in the theft of your father's Master Bolt, daughter of Zeus."
Chrysa winced inwardly as Hades spoke. He was probably wincing too. They rarely ever acknowledged that she was Zeus' daughter now, except on occasions when it was necessary, such as their lunch meetings with him.
"Can you not sense it, daughter of Zeus? Can you not sense your father's power?"
"My senses have been a bit busy trying to ward off creatures from the depths of Tartarus," Chrysa said irritably, but she dropped her extended senses and brought them back in. Suddenly, she realized what Hades was saying.
She walked over to Percy, bodily turned him around, and opened his backpack. Inside was a two-foot-long metal cylinder, spiked at both ends, humming with energy.
Chrysa pulled the bolt out of the backpack.
"Percy," Annabeth asked. "How…"
"I – I don't know," Percy said. "I don't understand."
"You heroes are always the same," Hades scoffed. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus' Master Bolt, but I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. Now, my helm. Where is it?"
Percy looked speechless. Chrysa stepped forward again, Master Bolt still in her hand.
"My Lord Hades," she said. "Percy did not gain this backpack on his own. It was given to him by Ares after Percy did him a favor in Denver." She reached out with her magic and touched the backpack.
"The backpack is the Master Bolt's sheath," she stated, "reforged to look like something innocuous. I do not know what enchantment kept the Master Bolt from returning to its sheath until now, but I swear to you that the Master Bolt was not in the backpack before the children entered the Underworld. I would have sensed it."
"Why did you not sense it as soon as it returned?" Hades asked.
"We entered the Underworld at separate times," Chrysa said. "I stopped to speak with some sea-nymphs."
From the look in Hades' eyes, he knew exactly who she had stopped to speak with.
"You claim that Ares has my Helm," Hades asked, attention focused solely on Chrysa. "Are you certain of this?"
"I am certain that there are far-reaching implications of this that we do not know," Chrysa said quietly. "There is something wrong here, my Lord."
Hades leaned back against his throne and raised a hand to stroke his chin.
"I will take your word for it, daughter of Zeus. Return the Master Bolt to its sheath."
Chrysa turned around, and Percy handed her the backpack. She slid the Master Bolt inside and sealed the backpack tightly. A quick bit of magic made it so that it would only be opened in the presence of Zeus.
"I will allow you to leave, demigods," Hades said. "You will use your little gifts to return to the surface. You will find Ares. You will return my Helm of Darkness. If you do not complete your quest and fix this mess, I will kill you myself. When everything is fixed, I will return Sally Jackson to life. Understand?"
All three kids looked pale.
"Yes, sir," Percy said, echoed by Annabeth and the satyr.
Percy pulled the pearls out of his pocket.
"Wait," he said. "There's three pearls and four of us."
"The daughter of Zeus has her own way out," Hades said in a bored voice.
The kids looked at Chrysa.
"I'll be fine," she promised. "Go."
Percy passed the pearls to Annabeth and the satyr, and they smashed them at their feet.
For a scary moment, nothing happened, but then the pearl fragments exploded with a burst of green light and gust of fresh sea wind. All three were encased in milky white spheres, which began to float up towards the stalactites.
Once all three had gone through the cavern ceiling, Hades dismissed the guards and came down from his throne, shrinking as he walked towards Chrysa. By the time he reached her, he was human-sized and easily able to lean down and kiss her.
"It was Ares?" he asked against her lips.
"The whole time," Chrysa confirmed. "I thought something was off when we encountered him in Denver. The things he said…they didn't quite make sense. But Ares couldn't have been the original thief, he's a god. I don't know who stole the items in the first place. Ares must have caught the thief, whoever he was. But Ares did not instigate this. Uncle was expecting the bolt. He has been in Percy's dreams this entire quest. It was your father behind this entire thing."
It should have been impossible for Hades to pale, considering his skin was already paper white, but he managed to do so anyway.
"It can't be," he said.
"It is," Chrysa said firmly. "Percy Jackson you can doubt, beloved, but you cannot doubt me. I knew Kronos for far longer and far better than any other still living free, except perhaps for Rhea. And even then, it could be argued that I know him best."
Hades sighed and kissed her again.
"I know," he said. "You should probably head upstairs. Find Ares. Return my Helm. Get the Master Bolt back to your father before he throws an even bigger hissy fit."
Chrysa laughed at that.
"I will. I'll be back soon, love. No more than a week. And you'll be at my party tomorrow evening?"
"Of course," Hades confirmed. "If you'd come back once everything is fixed, I'd appreciate it."
Chrysa smirked at him before she disappeared into the shadows.
"I'll send you an Iris-message."
She found herself on the beach a moment later. She could see Percy, Annabeth, and the satyr down the beach, facing a bulky man beside a motorbike. As Chrysa watched, the man pulled a black ski cap out of his pocket and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. It turned into an elaborate bronze war helmet that Chrysa immediately recognized as her consort's.
Chrysa cloaked herself in shadows and moved closer. Ares wouldn't be able to sense her. Only Nyx and Erebos could find her when she was cloaked in shadows, and even they could not do it consistently.
"I didn't want the trouble," she heard Ares say. "Better to have you caught red-handed, holding the thing."
"You're lying," Percy replied. "Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?"
"Of course it was!" Ares growled. Smoke drifted up from behind his sunglasses.
"You didn't order the theft," Percy said confidently. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."
"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"
Percy hesitated, then said, "Who said anything about dreams?"
Ares attempted to cover his agitation with a smirk, but he wasn't a very good actor.
"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hardheaded idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."
He snapped his fingers and the sand exploded at his feet. Out charged a wild boar, even larger and uglier than the one whose head hung above the door of Ares Cabin at Camp.
Percy stepped into the surf.
"Fight me yourself, Ares," he demanded.
Ares laughed, but there was an uneasy edge to it.
"You've only got one talent, kid, running away. You ran from the Chimera. You ran from the Underworld. You don't have what it takes."
"Scared?" Percy taunted.
"In your adolescent dreams," Ares scoffed. "No direct involvement. Sorry, kid. You're not at my level."
"Percy, run!" Annabeth cried.
The giant boar charged. As the boar rushed past him, Percy uncapped his sword and sidestepped. The boar's severed tusk fell at his feet while the disoriented animal charged into the sea.
"Wave!" Percy shouted.
Immediately a wave surged up from nowhere and engulfed the boar, wrapping around it like a blanket. The beast squealed once in terror before it was swallowed up by the sea.
Percy turned back to Ares and taunted, "Are you going to fight me now? Or are you going to hide behind another pet pig?"
Ares' face was purple with rage.
"Watch it, kid. I could turn you into…"
"A cockroach," Percy cut in. "Or a tapeworm. Yeah, I'm sure. That'd save you from getting your godly hide whipped, wouldn't it?"
"Oh, man, you are really asking to be smashed into a grease spot," Ares said as flames danced across the top of his glasses.
"If I lose, turn me into anything you want. Take the bolt. If I win, the helm and the bolt are mine and you have to go away," Percy said.
Ares sneered and swung his baseball bat.
"How would you like to get smashed: classic or modern?"
Percy held out his sword.
"That's cool, dead boy," Ares said. "Classic it is."
The baseball bat in his hands changed into a two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.
"Percy, don't do this. He's a god," Annabeth said.
"He's a coward," Percy replied hotly.
Annabeth swallowed.
"Wear this, at least. For luck."
She took off her camp necklace and tied it around Percy's neck.
"Reconciliation," she said. "Athena and Percy together."
"Thanks," Percy said with a smile, flushing slightly.
"And take this," the satyr said, handing him a flattened tin can. "The satyrs stand behind you."
"Grover…" Percy said. "I don't know what to say."
The satyr patted him on the shoulder as Percy stuffed the tin can in his back pocket.
"You all done saying good-bye?" Ares said, heading towards them. "I've been fighting for eternity, kid. My strength is unlimited and I cannot die. What have you got?"
Chrysa used Ares' distraction to shadow to his motorcycle and take the Helm of Darkness. She turned it back into a ski cap and stuffed it into her bra.
Ares struck down at Percy, but Percy was no longer there. Percy catapulted over the war god, slashing as he came down. But Ares was just as quick. He twisted, and the strike that should have caught him directly in the spine was deflected off the end of his sword hilt.
"Not bad, not bad," Ares said with a grin.
He slashed again, and Percy was forced to jump onto dry land. Percy attempted to get back to the water, but Ares blocked him at every move. When Percy tried to get in close with a sword thrust, Ares knocked the blade out of his hand and kicked him in the chest, sending him flying thirty feet away. Thankfully, Percy landed in a sand dune.
"Percy!" Annabeth yelled. "Cops!"
There were red and blue lights flashing on the shoreline boulevard, and car doors were slamming.
"There, officer!" someone yelled. "See?"
A gruff cop voice said, "Looks like that kid on TV…what the heck…"
"That guy's armed!" another cop called. "Call for backup!"
Percy rolled to one side as Ares' blade slashed the sand. He ran for his sword, scooped it up, and launched a swipe at Ares' face that was again deflected.
Percy stepped back into the surf, forcing Ares to follow him.
"Admit it, kid," Ares said. "You got no hope. I'm just toying with you."
More sirens arrived.
"Drop the guns!" yelled a police officer through a megaphone. "Set them on the ground. Now!"
Ares turned to glare at the spectators, and bellowed, "This is a private matter! Be gone!"
He waved his hand, and a wall of red flame rolled across the patrol cars. The police barely had any time to dive for cover before their vehicles exploded. The crowd behind them scattered, screaming.
Ares laughed.
"Now, little hero! Let's add you to the barbeque!"
He slashed, but Percy managed to deflect his blade. Percy tried to feint, but Ares knocked the blow aside.
Chrysa noticed that the water behind Percy was receding.
Ares went towards Percy, grinning with confidence. Percy lowered his blade, as if he were too exhausted to go on. Ares raised his sword, and Percy jumped straight over Ares on a wave, which smashed him full in the face, leaving him cursing and sputtering with a mouth full of seaweed.
Percy landed behind him with a splash and feinted toward Ares' head. Ares turned in time to raise his sword, but he didn't catch Percy's feint. Percy changed direction, lunged to the side, and stabbed Riptide straight down into the water, sending the point through the god's heel.
Ares roared in fury, blasting the sea away from him in a fifty-foot circle. Percy was blasted back as well, but Chrysa cushioned his fall.
Ichor fell to the sand. Ares' face was a mask of pain, shock, and complete disbelief that he'd been wounded.
As he limped towards Percy, muttering curses in ancient Greek, something stopped him. A dark power overtook the area, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and exuding an aura of extreme despair.
Chrysa gasped. She knew that aura. He shouldn't be so powerful yet.
The darkness lifted, and Ares looked stunned. Still, he lowered his sword.
"You have made an enemy, godling," Ares told Percy. "You have sealed your fate. Every time you raise your blade in battle, every time you hope for success, you will feel my curse. Beware, Perseus Jackson. Beware."
His body began to glow.
"Percy!" Annabeth shouted. "Don't watch!"
Percy was still too stunned to move, but Chrysa tackled him to the ground, being sure to cover his face as the golden light filled the area.
When the light died, Chrysa got off of Percy, who looked slightly embarrassed to have been in that position with his much older, female cousin.
"The Helm!" Annabeth exclaimed. "It's gone!"
"It's fine," Chrysa said. "I have it." She pulled the ski cap out of her bra.
"Where did you…never mind, I don't want to know," Percy said.
The Furies chose that moment to land in front of them.
"We saw the whole thing," Alecto hissed, addressing Percy. "So…it truly was not you?"
"No," Percy said.
"I will personally return your master's helm to him," Chrysa told Alecto, winking slightly. "I need to take care of the mortals first, and make sure these three get on their way back home, but I swear on the River Styx that I will return the Helm of Darkness to Lord Hades."
Thunder rumbled to confirm her oath.
The Furies hissed, keeping with their part.
"Very well," Alecto said. She turned back to Percy and ran a forked tongue over her green, leathery lips. "Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. Because if you do not, if you ever come into my clutches again…"
She cackled as she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttering into the smoke-filled sky and disappearing.
The satyr and Annabeth had walked over to them.
"Percy," the satyr said. "That was so incredibly…"
"Terrifying," Annabeth put in.
"Cool!" the satyr corrected.
"Did you guys feel that…whatever it was?" Percy asked.
Both nodded uneasily.
"Must've been the Furies overhead," the satyr said.
"It was not the Furies," Chrysa said. "It was something that even I dare not speak of here. It was evil, Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase…Grover Underwood. If the evil is coming back, I fear that you will have to face it again. But now, you need to get back to New York. Tonight."
"That's impossible!" Annabeth said. "Unless we…"
"Fly," Percy agreed.
Annabeth and the satyr both stared at him.
"Fly, like, in an airplane, which you were warned never to do lest Zeus strike you out of the sky, and carrying a weapon that has more destructive power than a nuclear bomb?" Annabeth asked incredulously.
"Yeah," Percy said. "Pretty much exactly like that. Come on."
"I will make sure you get safely on a flight," Chrysa promised. "And my father daren't strike you down while you carry the Master Bolt."
"That's a relief," the satyr said. "Why aren't you coming?"
"I need to return the Helm to Lord Hades. Percy doesn't have the time, and having another child of the Big Three return it is a peace gesture."
"What about the mortals?" Annabeth asked. "They think Percy's a criminal!"
Chrysa smirked.
"Leave that to me."