by Rick Riordan
‘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.
‘Yes, quite. Someone who harbours a grudge, who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided aeons 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 under the ground. ‘Hades.’
Chiron nodded. ‘The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility.’
A scrap of aluminium 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, then 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 try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the 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 hid 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.’
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 and the hellhound. It was his fault my mother had 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 my 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 crisps.
The poor guy needed to complete a quest with me so he could get his searcher’s licence, 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 or Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads.’
‘Suspecting and knowing are not the same,’ Chiron said. ‘Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades – and I imagine Poseidon does – they couldn’t retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other’s territories except 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 through humans?’
‘You’re saying I’m being used.’
‘I’m saying it’s no accident Poseidon has claimed you now. It’s a very risky gamble, but he’s in a desperate situation. He needs you.’
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 that Maine is very nice this time of year?’ he asked weakly.
‘You don’t have to go,’ I told him. ‘I can’t ask that of you.’
‘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 aluminium bits off his T-shirt. ‘You saved my life, Percy. If… if you’re serious about wanting me along, I won’t let you down.’
I felt so relieved I wanted to cry, though I didn’t think that would be very heroic. Grover was the only friend I’d ever had for longer than a few months. I wasn’t sure what good a 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 entrance to the Underworld is always in the west. It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it’s in America.’
‘Where?’
Chiron looked surprised. ‘I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles.’
‘Oh,’ I said. ‘Naturally. So we just get on a plane –’
‘No!’ Grover shrieked. ‘Percy, what are you thinking? Have you ever been on a plane in your life?’
I shook my head, feeling embarrassed. My mom had never taken me anywhere by plane. She’d always said we didn’t have the money. Besides, her parents had died in a plane crash.
‘Percy, think,’ Chiron said. ‘You are the son of the Sea God. Your father’s bitterest rival is Zeus, Lord of the Sky. Your mother knew better than to trust you in an aeroplane. You would be in Zeus’s domain. You would never come down again alive.’
Overhead, lightning crackled. Thunder boomed.
‘Okay,’ I said, determined not to look at the storm. ‘So, I’ll travel overland.’
‘That’s right,’ Chiron said. ‘Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. 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 a long time for a quest, Seaweed Brain,’ she said. ‘Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but 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 coloured. ‘Do you want my help or not?’
The truth was, I did. I needed all the help I could get.
‘A trio,’ I said. ‘That’ll work.’
‘Excellent,’ Chiron said. ‘This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own.’
Lightning flashed. Rain poured down on the meadows that were never supposed to have violent weather.
‘No time to waste,’ Chiron said. ‘I think you should all get packing.’
10 I Ruin a Perfectly Good Bus
It didn’t take me long to pack. I decided to leave the Minotaur horn in my
cabin, which left me only an extra change of clothes and a toothbrush to stuff in a backpack Grover had found for me.
The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. These coins were as big as Girl Scout cookies and had images of various Greek gods stamped on one side and the Empire State Building on the other. The ancient mortal drachmas had been silver, Chiron told us, but Olympians never used less than pure gold. Chiron said the coins might come in handy for nonmortal transactions – whatever that meant. He gave Annabeth and me each a flask of nectar and an airtight bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt. It was god food, Chiron reminded us. It would cure us of almost any injury, but it was lethal to mortals. Too much of it would make a half-blood very, very feverish. An overdose would burn us up, literally.
Annabeth was bringing her magic Yankees cap, which she told me had been a twelfth-birthday present from her mom. She carried a book on famous classical architecture, written in Ancient Greek, to read when she got bored, and a long bronze knife, hidden in her shirt sleeve. I was sure the knife would get us busted the first time we went through a metal detector.
Grover wore his fake feet and his trousers to pass as human. He wore a green rasta-style cap, because when it rained his curly hair flattened and you could just see the tips of his horns. His bright orange backpack was full of scrap metal and apples to snack on. In his pocket was a set of reed pipes his daddy goat had carved for him, even though he only knew two songs: Mozart’s Piano Concerto no. 12 and Hilary Duff’s ‘So Yesterday’, both of which sounded pretty bad on reed pipes.
We waved goodbye to the other campers, took one last look at the strawberry fields, the ocean and the Big House, then hiked up Half-Blood Hill to the tall pine tree that used to be Thalia, daughter of Zeus.
Chiron was waiting for us in his wheelchair. Next to him stood the surfer dude I’d seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy was the camp’s head of security. He supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur’s uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck.
‘This is Argus,’ Chiron told me. ‘He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things.’
I heard footsteps behind us.
Luke came running up the hill, carrying a pair of basketball shoes.
‘Hey!’ he panted. ‘Glad I caught you.’
Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around.
‘Just wanted to say good luck,’ Luke told me. ‘And I thought… um, maybe you could use these.’
He handed me the sneakers, which looked pretty normal. They even smelled kind of normal.
Luke said, ‘Maia!’
White bird’s wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, I dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.
‘Awesome!’ Grover said.
Luke smiled. ‘Those served me well when I was on my quest. Gift from Dad. Of course, I don’t use them much these days…’ His expression turned sad.
I didn’t know what to say. It was cool enough that Luke had come to say goodbye. I’d been afraid he might resent me for getting so much attention the last few days. But here he was giving me a magic gift… It made me blush almost as much as Annabeth.
‘Hey, man,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
‘Listen, Percy…’ Luke looked uncomfortable. ‘A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just… kill some monsters for me, okay?’
We shook hands. Luke patted Grover’s head between his horns, then gave a goodbye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out.
After Luke was gone, I told her, ‘You’re hyperventilating.’
‘Am not.’
‘You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn’t you?’
‘Oh… why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?’
She stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road. Argus followed, jingling his car keys.
I picked up the flying shoes and had a sudden bad feeling. I looked at Chiron. ‘I won’t be able to use these, will I?’
He shook his head. ‘Luke meant well, Percy. But taking to the air… that would not be wise for you.’
I nodded, disappointed, but then I got an idea. ‘Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?’
His eyes lit up. ‘Me?’
Pretty soon we’d laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world’s first flying goat boy was ready for launch.
‘Maia!’ he shouted.
He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.
‘Practice,’ Chiron called after him. ‘You just need practice!’
‘Aaaaa!’ Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading towards the van.
Before I could follow, Chiron caught my arm. ‘I should have trained you better, Percy,’ he said. ‘If only I had more time. Hercules, Jason – they all got more training.’
‘That’s okay. I just wish –’
I stopped myself because I was about to sound like a brat. I was wishing my dad had given me a cool magic item to help on the quest, something as good as Luke’s flying shoes, or Annabeth’s invisible cap.
‘What am I thinking?’ Chiron cried. ‘I can’t let you get away without this.’
He pulled a pen from his coat pocket and handed it to me. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint, black ink, removable cap. Probably cost thirty cents.
‘Gee,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
‘Percy, that’s a gift from your father. I’ve kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one.’
I remembered the field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, when I’d vaporized Mrs Dodds. Chiron had thrown me a pen that turned into a sword. Could this be…?
I took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. It was the first weapon that actually felt balanced in my hand.
‘The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into,’ Chiron told me. ‘Its name is Anaklusmos.’
‘“Riptide”,’ I translated, surprised the Ancient Greek came so easily.
‘Use it only for emergencies,’ Chiron said, ‘and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn’t harm them in any case.’
I looked at the wickedly sharp blade. ‘What do you mean it wouldn’t harm mortals? How could it not?’
‘The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It’s deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don’t kill you first. But the blade will pass through mortals like an illusion. They simply are not important enough for the blade to kill. And I should warn you: as a demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable.’
‘Good to know.’
‘Now recap the pen.’
I touched the pen cap to the sword tip and instantly Riptide shrank to a ballpoint pen again. I tucked it in my pocket, a little nervous, because I was famous for losing pens at school.
‘You can’t,’ Chiron said.
‘Can’t what?’
‘Lose the pen,’ he said. ‘It is enchanted. It will always reappear in your pocket. Try it.’
I was wary, but I threw the pen as far as I could down the hill and watched it disappear in the grass.
‘It may take a few moments,’ Chiron told me. ‘Now check your pocket.’
Sure enough, the pen was there.
‘Okay, that’s extremely cool,�
� I admitted. ‘But what if a mortal sees me pulling out a sword?’
Chiron smiled. ‘Mist is a powerful thing, Percy.’
‘Mist?’
‘Yes. Read The Iliad. It’s full of references to the stuff. Whenever divine or monstrous elements mix with the mortal world, they generate Mist, which obscures the vision of humans. You will see things just as they are, being a half-blood, but humans will interpret things quite differently. Remarkable, really, the lengths to which humans will go to fit things into their version of reality.’
I put Riptide back in my pocket.
For the first time, the quest felt real. I was actually leaving Half-Blood Hill. I was heading west with no adult supervision, no backup plan, not even a cell phone. (Chiron said cell phones were traceable by monsters; if we used one, it would be worse than sending up a flare.) I had no weapon stronger than a sword to fight off monsters and reach the Land of the Dead.
‘Chiron…’ I said. ‘When you say the gods are immortal… I mean, there was a time before them, right?’
‘Four ages before them, actually. The Time of the Titans was the Fourth Age, sometimes called the Golden Age, which is definitely a misnomer. This, the time of Western civilization and the rule of Zeus, is the Fifth Age’.
‘So what was it like… before the gods?’
Chiron pursed his lips. ‘Even I am not old enough to remember that, child, but I know it was a time of darkness and savagery for mortals. Kronos, the lord of the Titans, called his reign the Golden Age because men lived innocent and free of all knowledge. But that was mere propaganda. The Titan king cared nothing for your kind except as appetizers or a source of cheap entertainment. It was only in the early reign of Lord Zeus, when Prometheus the good Titan brought fire to mankind, that your species began to progress, and even then Prometheus was branded a radical thinker. Zeus punished him severely, as you may recall. Of course, eventually the gods warmed to humans, and Western civilization was born.’
‘But the gods can’t die now, right? I mean, as long as Western civilization is alive, they’re alive. So… even if I failed, nothing could happen so bad it would mess up everything, right?’