by Rick Riordan
I stared at the empty thrones, waiting for something to happen. Then the air shimmered. Three figures appeared – Hades and Persephone on their thrones and an older woman standing between them. They seemed to be in the middle of an argument.
‘– told you he was a bum!’ the older woman said.
‘Mother!’ Persephone replied.
‘We have visitors!’ Hades barked. ‘Please!’
Hades, one of my least favourite gods, smoothed his black robes, which were covered with the terrified faces of the damned. He had pale skin and the intense eyes of a madman.
‘Percy Jackson,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘At last.’
Queen Persephone studied me curiously. I’d seen her once before in the winter but now in the summer she looked like a totally different goddess. She had lustrous black hair and warm brown eyes. Her dress shimmered with colours. Flower patterns in the fabric changed and bloomed – roses, tulips, honeysuckle.
The woman standing between them was obviously Persephone’s mother. She had the same hair and eyes, but looked older and sterner. Her dress was golden, the colour of a wheat field. Her hair was woven with dried grasses so it reminded me of a wicker basket. I figured if somebody lit a match next to her, she’d be in serious trouble.
‘Hmmph,’ the older woman said. ‘Demigods. Just what we need.’
Next to me, Nico knelt. I wished I had my sword so I could cut his stupid head off. Unfortunately, Riptide was still out in the fields somewhere.
‘Father,’ Nico said. ‘I have done as you asked.’
‘Took you long enough,’ Hades grumbled. ‘Your sister would’ve done a better job.’
Nico lowered his head. If I hadn’t been so mad at the little creep, I might’ve felt sorry for him.
I glared up at the god of the dead. ‘What do you want, Hades?’
‘To talk, of course.’ The god twisted his mouth in a cruel smile. ‘Didn’t Nico tell you?’
‘So this whole quest was a lie. Nico brought me down here to get me killed.’
‘Oh, no,’ Hades said. ‘I’m afraid Nico was quite sincere about wanting to help you. The boy is as honest as he is dense. I simply convinced him to take a small detour and bring you here first.’
‘Father,’ Nico said, ‘you promised that Percy would not be harmed. You said if I brought him, you would tell me about my past – about my mother.’
Queen Persephone sighed dramatically. ‘Can we please not talk about that woman in my presence?’
‘I’m sorry, my dove,’ Hades said. ‘I had to promise the boy something.’
The older lady harrumphed. ‘I warned you, daughter. This scoundrel Hades is no good. You could’ve married the god of doctors or the god of lawyers, but noooo. You had to eat the pomegranate.’
‘Mother –’
‘And get stuck in the Underworld!’
‘Mother, please –’
‘And here it is August, and do you come home like you’re supposed to? Do you ever think about your poor lonely mother?’
‘DEMETER!’ Hades shouted. ‘That is enough. You are a guest in my house.’
‘Oh, a house is it?’ she said. ‘You call this dump a house? Make my daughter live in this dark, damp –’
‘I told you,’ Hades said, grinding his teeth, ‘there’s a war in the world above. You and Persephone are better off here with me.’
‘Excuse me,’ I broke in, ‘but if you’re going to kill me, could you just get on with it?’
All three gods looked at me.
‘Well, this one has an attitude,’ Demeter observed.
‘Indeed,’ Hades agreed. ‘I’d love to kill him.’
‘Father!’ Nico said. ‘You promised!’
‘Husband, we talked about this,’ Persephone chided. ‘You can’t go around incinerating every hero. Besides, he’s brave. I like that.’
Hades rolled his eyes. ‘You liked that Orpheus fellow, too. Look how well that turned out. Let me kill him, just a little bit.’
‘Father, you promised!’ Nico said. ‘You said you only wanted to talk to him! You said if I brought him, you’d explain.’
Hades glowered, smoothing the folds of his robes. ‘And so I shall. Your mother – what can I tell you? She was a wonderful woman.’ He glanced uncomfortably at Persephone. ‘Forgive me, my dear. I mean for a mortal, of course. Her name was Maria di Angelo. She was from Venice, but her father was a diplomat in Washington, D.C. That’s where I met her. When you and your sister were young, it was a bad time to be children of Hades. World War II was brewing. A few of my, ah, other children were leading the losing side. I thought it best to put you two out of harm’s way.’
‘That’s why you hid us in the Lotus Casino?’
Hades shrugged. ‘You didn’t age. You didn’t realize time was passing. I waited for the right time to bring you out.’
‘But what happened to our mother? Why don’t I remember her?’
‘Not important,’ Hades snapped.
‘What? Of course it’s important. And you had other children – why were we the only ones who were sent away? And who was the lawyer who got us out?’
Hades gritted his teeth. ‘You would do well to listen more and talk less, boy. As for the lawyer …’
Hades snapped his fingers. On top of his throne, the Fury Alecto began to change until she was a middle-aged man in a pinstriped suit with a briefcase. She – he – looked strange crouching at Hades’ shoulder.
‘You!’ Nico said.
The Fury cackled. ‘I do lawyers and teachers very well!’
Nico was trembling. ‘But why did you free us from the casino?’
‘You know why,’ Hades said. ‘This idiot son of Poseidon cannot be allowed to be the child of the prophecy.’
I plucked a ruby off the nearest plant and threw it at Hades. It sank harmlessly into his robe. ‘You should be helping Olympus!’ I said. ‘All the other gods are fighting Typhon, and you’re just sitting here –’
‘Waiting things out,’ Hades finished. ‘Yes, that’s correct. When’s the last time Olympus ever helped me, half-blood? When’s the last time a child of mine was ever welcomed as a hero? Bah! Why should I rush out and help them? I’ll stay here with my forces intact.’
‘And when Kronos comes after you?’
‘Let him try. He’ll be weakened. And my son here, Nico –’ Hades looked at him with distaste. ‘Well, he’s not much now, I’ll grant you. It would’ve been better if Bianca had lived. But give him four more years of training. We can hold out that long, surely. Nico will turn sixteen, as the prophecy says, and then he will make the decision that will save the world. And I will be king of the gods.’
‘You’re crazy,’ I said. ‘Kronos will crush you, right after he finishes pulverizing Olympus.’
Hades spread his hands. ‘Well, you’ll get a chance to find out, half-blood. Because you’ll be waiting out this war in my dungeons.’
‘No!’ Nico said. ‘Father, that wasn’t our agreement. And you haven’t told me everything!’
‘I’ve told you all you need to know,’ Hades said. ‘As for our agreement, I spoke with Jackson. I did not harm him. You got your information. If you wanted a better deal, you should’ve made me swear on the Styx. Now go to your room!’ He waved his hand and Nico vanished.
‘That boy needs to eat more,’ Demeter grumbled. ‘He’s too skinny. He needs more cereal.’
Persephone rolled her eyes. ‘Mother, enough with the cereal. My lord Hades, are you sure we can’t let this little hero go? He’s awfully brave.’
‘No, my dear. I’ve spared his life. That’s enough.’
I was sure she was going to stand up for me. The brave, beautiful Persephone was going to get me out of this.
She shrugged indifferently. ‘Fine. What’s for breakfast? I’m starving.’
‘Cereal,’ Demeter said.
‘Mother!’ The two women disappeared in a swirl of flowers and wheat.
‘Don’t feel too bad, Perc
y Jackson,’ Hades said. ‘My ghosts keep me well informed of Kronos’s plans. I can assure you that you had no chance to stop him in time. By tonight, it will be too late for your precious Mount Olympus. The trap will be sprung.’
‘What trap?’ I demanded. ‘If you know about it, do something! At least let me tell the other gods!’
Hades smiled. ‘You are spirited. I’ll give you credit for that. Have fun in my dungeon. We’ll check on you again in – oh, fifty or sixty years.’
8 I Take The Worst Bath Ever
My sword reappeared in my pocket.
Yeah, great timing. Now I could attack the walls all I wanted. My cell had no bars, no windows, not even a door. The skeletal guards shoved me straight through a wall and it became solid behind me. I wasn’t sure if the room was airtight. Probably. Hades’ dungeon was meant for dead people, and they don’t breathe. So forget fifty or sixty years. I’d be dead in fifty or sixty minutes. Meanwhile, if Hades wasn’t lying, some big trap was going to be sprung in New York by the end of the day, and there was absolutely nothing I could do about it.
I sat on the cold stone floor feeling miserable.
I don’t remember dozing off. Then again it must’ve been about seven in the morning, mortal time, and I’d been through a lot.
I dreamed I was on the porch of Rachel’s beach house in St Thomas. The sun was rising over the Caribbean. Dozens of wooded islands dotted the sea and white sails cut across the water. The smell of salt air made me wonder if I would ever see the ocean again.
Rachel’s parents sat at the patio table while a personal chef fixed them omelettes. Mr Dare was dressed in a white linen suit. He was reading the Wall Street Journal. The lady across the table was probably Mrs Dare, though all I could see of her were hot pink fingernails and the cover of Condé Nast Traveller. Why she’d be reading about vacations while she was on vacation, I wasn’t sure.
Rachel stood at the porch railing and sighed. She wore Bermuda shorts and her van Gogh T-shirt. (Yeah, Rachel was trying to teach me about art, but don’t get too impressed. I only remembered the dude’s name because he cut his ear off.)
I wondered if she were thinking about me, and how much it sucked that I wasn’t with them on vacation. I know that’s what I was thinking.
Then the scene changed. I was in St Louis, standing downtown under the Arch. I’d been there before. In fact I’d almost fallen to my death there before.
Over the city, a thunderstorm boiled – a wall of absolute black with lightning streaking across the sky. A few blocks away, swarms of emergency vehicles gathered with their lights flashing. A column of dust rose from a mound of rubble, which I realized was a collapsed skyscraper.
A nearby reporter was yelling into her microphone: ‘Officials are describing this as a structural failure, Dan, though no one seems to know if it is related to the storm conditions.’
Wind whipped her hair. The temperature was dropping rapidly – like ten degrees just since I’d been standing there.
‘Thankfully the building had been abandoned for demolition,’ she said. ‘But police have evacuated all nearby buildings for fear the collapse might trigger –’
She faltered as a mighty groan cut through the sky. A blast of lightning hit the centre of the darkness. The entire city shook. The air glowed and every hair on my body stood up. The blast was so powerful I knew it could only be one thing: Zeus’s master bolt. It should have vaporized its target, but the dark cloud only staggered backwards. A smoky fist appeared out of the clouds. It smashed another tower and the whole thing collapsed like children’s blocks.
The reporter screamed. People ran through the streets. Emergency lights flashed. I saw a streak of silver in the sky – a chariot pulled by reindeer, but it wasn’t Santa Claus driving. It was Artemis riding the storm, shooting shafts of moonlight into the darkness. A fiery golden comet crossed her path – maybe her brother, Apollo.
One thing was clear: Typhon had made it to the Mississippi River. He was halfway across the U.S., leaving destruction in his wake, and the gods were barely slowing him down.
The mountain of darkness loomed above me. A foot the size of Yankee Stadium was about to smash me when a voice hissed: ‘Percy!’
I lunged out blindly. Before I was fully awake, I had Nico pinned to the floor of the cell with the edge of my sword at his throat.
‘Want – to – rescue,’ he choked.
Anger woke me up fast. ‘Oh, yeah? And why should I trust you?’
‘No – choice?’ he gagged.
I wished he hadn’t said something logical like that. I let him go.
Nico curled into a ball and made retching sounds while his throat recovered. Finally he got to his feet, eyeing my sword warily. His own blade was sheathed. I suppose if he’d wanted to kill me, he could’ve done it while I slept. Still, I didn’t trust him.
‘We have to get out of here,’ he said.
‘Why?’ I said. ‘Does your dad want to talk to me again?’
He winced. ‘Percy, I swear on the River Styx, I didn’t know what he was planning.’
‘You know what your dad is like!’
‘He tricked me. He promised –’ Nico held up his hands. ‘Look … right now, we need to leave. I put the guards to sleep, but it won’t last.’
I wanted to strangle him again. Unfortunately, he was right. We didn’t have time to argue and I couldn’t escape on my own. He pointed at the wall. A whole section vanished, revealing a corridor.
‘Come on.’ Nico led the way.
I wished I had Annabeth’s invisibility hat, but as it turned out I didn’t need it. Every time we came to a skeleton guard, Nico just pointed at it and its glowing eyes dimmed. Unfortunately, the more Nico did it, the more tired he seemed. We walked through a maze of corridors filled with guards. By the time we reached a kitchen staffed by skeletal cooks and servants, I was practically carrying Nico. He managed to put all the dead to sleep but nearly passed out himself. I dragged him out the servants’ entrance and into the Fields of Asphodel.
I almost felt relieved until I heard the sound of bronze gongs high in the castle.
‘Alarms,’ Nico murmured sleepily.
‘What do we do?’
He yawned then frowned like he was trying to remember. ‘How about … run?’
Running with a drowsy child of Hades was more like doing a three-legged race with a life-sized rag doll. I lugged him along, holding my sword in front of me. The spirits of the dead made way like the celestial bronze was a blazing fire.
The sound of gongs rolled across the fields. Ahead loomed the walls of Erebos, but the longer we walked the further away they seemed. I was about to collapse from exhaustion when I heard a familiar ‘WOOOOOF!’
Mrs O’Leary bounded out of nowhere and ran circles around us, ready to play.
‘Good girl!’ I said. ‘Can you give us a ride to the Styx?’
The word ‘Styx’ got her excited. She probably thought I meant sticks. She jumped a few times, chased her tail just to teach it who was boss and then calmed down enough for me to push Nico onto her back. I climbed aboard and she raced towards the gates. She leaped straight over the EZ-DEATH line, sending guards sprawling and causing more alarms to blare. Cerberus barked, but he sounded more excited than angry, like: Can I play, too?
Fortunately, he didn’t follow us, and Mrs O’Leary kept running. She didn’t stop until we were far upriver and the fires of Erebos had disappeared in the murk.
Nico slid off Mrs O’Leary’s back and crumpled in a heap on the black sand.
I took out a square of ambrosia – part of the emergency god-food I always kept with me. It was a little bashed up, but Nico chewed it.
‘Uh,’ he mumbled. ‘Better.’
‘Your powers drain you too much,’ I noted.
He nodded sleepily. ‘With great power … comes great need to take a nap. Wake me up later.’
‘Whoa, zombie dude.’ I caught him before he could pass out again. ‘We’re at the river. Y
ou need to tell me what to do.’
I fed him the last of my ambrosia, which was a little dangerous. The stuff can heal demigods, but it can also burn us to ashes if we eat too much. Fortunately, it seemed to do the trick. Nico shook his head a few times and struggled to his feet.
‘My father will be coming soon,’ he said. ‘We should hurry.’
The River Styx’s current swirled with strange objects – broken toys, ripped-up college diplomas, wilted homecoming corsages – all the dreams people had thrown away as they’d passed from life into death. Looking at the black water, I could think of about three million places I’d rather swim.
‘So … I just jump in?’
‘You have to prepare yourself first,’ Nico said, ‘or the river will destroy you. It will burn away your body and soul.’
‘Sounds fun,’ I muttered.
‘This is no joke,’ Nico warned. ‘There is only one way to stay anchored to your mortal life. You have to …’
He glanced behind me and his eyes widened. I turned and found myself face to face with a Greek warrior.
For a second, I thought he was Ares, because this guy looked exactly like the god of war – tall and buff, with a cruel scarred face and closely shaved black hair. He wore a white tunic and bronze armour. He held a plumed war helm under his arm. But his eyes were human – pale green like a shallow sea – and a bloody arrow stuck out of his left calf, just above the ankle.
I stunk at Greek names, but even I knew the greatest warrior of all time, who had died from a wounded heel.
‘Achilles,’ I said.
The ghost nodded. ‘I warned the other one not to follow my path. Now I will warn you.’
‘Luke? You spoke with Luke?’
‘Do not do this,’ he said. ‘It will make you powerful. But it will also make you weak. Your prowess in combat will be beyond any mortal, but your weaknesses, your failings will increase as well.’
‘You mean I’ll have a bad heel?’ I said. ‘Couldn’t I just, like, wear something besides sandals? No offence.’
