chapter seventeen

─── my lack of height is making me cry

          𝔄nnbeth had good ideas.

She loaded us into the back of a Vegas taxi as if we actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."

The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized us up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Luke stepped in for Annabeth, who was starting to splutter.

He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."

Luke handed over his green, Lotus Casino card.

He looked at it skeptically.

"Swipe it," Luke invited.

He did. His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.

The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at us, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles...uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter. I could tell she liked the "Your Highness" thing. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert, which, let me tell you, made for some hair raising bends.

On the road, we had plenty of time to talk. I told the trio about my latest dream, but the details got sketchier the more I tried to remember them. The Lotus Casino seemed to have short-circuited my memory. I couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though I was sure it was somebody I knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than my lord...some special name or title...

"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

"Maybe..." I said, though neither sounded quite right, it was something else.

"That throne room sounds like Hades'," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."

I shook my 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."

Luke was quiet and pale next to me, his fingers drumming against his knee, as the rest of the cab went silent.

"What?" I asked.

"Oh...nothing. I was just—No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent the thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—" Annabeth put out there.

"But the thief and the invisible person seemed to be different and what could have gone wrong?"

"I—I don't know," she said. "But if they stole Zeus's 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."

I wasn't sure what was wrong with her. She looked pale, in fact everyone just looked morbid.

"But if I'd already retrieved the bolt," I said, "why would I be traveling to the Big Sur?"

"To threaten Hades," Grover suggested. "To bribe or blackmail him into getting your mom back."

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"Why, thank you."

"But the thing in the pit said it was waiting for two items," I said. "If the master bolt is one, what's the other?"

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. Annabeth was looking at me as if she knew my next question, and was silently willing me not to ask it.

"You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" I asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Andi...let's not talk about it," Luke cut in. "Because if it isn't Hades...well, you better hope it is Hades."

Wasteland rolled by. We passed a sign that said CALIFORNIA STATE LINE, 12 MILES.

I got the feeling I was missing one simple, critical piece of information. It was like when I stared at a common word I should know, but I couldn't make sense of it because one or two letters were floating around. The more I thought about my quest, the more I was sure that confronting Hades wasn't the real answer. There was something else going on, something even more dangerous.

The problem was: we were hurtling toward the coast at ninety-five miles an hour, to speak to my father and then, we had about six hours to make it to Hades. If we got there and found out we were wrong, we wouldn't have time to correct ourselves. The solstice deadline would pass and war would begin.

"The answer is with Hades" Luke reassured me. "You saw spirits of the dead, Andi. There's only one place that could be. We're doing the right thing."

Annabeth tried to boost our morale by suggesting clever strategies for getting into the Land of the Dead, but my heart wasn't in it. There were just too many unknown factors. It was like cramming for a test without knowing the subject. And believe me, I'd done that  enough times to know it never went well.

The cab sped west. Every gust of wind through Death Valley sounded like a spirit of the dead. Every time the brakes hissed on an eighteen-wheeler, it reminded me of Echidna's reptilian voice.

At sunset, the taxi dropped us at the beach in Santa Monica. It looked exactly the way L.A. beaches do in the movies, only it smelled worse. There were carnival rides lining the Pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

Grover, Annabeth, Luke and I walked down to the edge of the surf.

"What now?" Annabeth asked.

The Pacific was turning gold in the setting sun. I thought about how long it had been since I'd stood on the beach at Montauk, on the opposite side of the country, looking out at a different sea.

How could there be a god who could control all that? What did my science teacher used to say —two-thirds of the earth's surface was covered in water? How could I be the daughter of someone that powerful?

I stepped into the surf

"Andromeda?" Annabeth said. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest.

She called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There're all kinds of toxic—"

That's when my head went under.

I held my breath at first. It's difficult to intentionally inhale water. Finally I couldn't stand it anymore. I gasped. Sure enough, I could breathe normally.

I walked down into the shoals. I shouldn't have been able to see through the murk, but somehow I could tell where everything was. I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.

I felt something rub against my leg. I looked down and almost shot out of the water like a ballistic missile. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long Mako shark.

But the thing wasn't attacking. It was nuzzling me. Heeling like a dog. Tentatively, I touched its dorsal fin. It bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands. It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sand bank dropped off into a huge chasm. It was like standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon at midnight, not being able to see much, but knowing the void was right there.

The surface shimmered maybe a hundred and fifty feet above. I knew I should've been crushed by the pressure. Then again, I shouldn't have been able to breathe. I wondered if there was a limit to how deep I could go, if I could sink straight to the bottom of the Pacific.

That was one way to get out of all of my responsibilities and I was liking the idea of that plan more and more.

Then I saw something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. A woman's voice, like my mother's, called: "Andromeda Jackson."

As she got closer, her shape became clearer. She had flowing black hair, a dress made of green silk. Light flickered around her, and her eyes were so distractedly beautiful I hardly noticed the stallion-sized sea horse she was riding.

She dismounted. The sea horse and the Mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. The underwater lady smiled at me. "You've come far, Andromeda Jackson. Well done."

I wasn't quite sure what to do, so I bowed. "You're the woman who spoke to me in the Mississippi River?"

"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 honour Lord Poseidon, though they do not serve in his court."

"And...you serve in Poseidon's court?"

She nodded. "It has been many years since a child of the Sea God has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

Suddenly I remembered faces in the waves off Montauk Beach when I was a little girl, reflections of smiling women. Like so many of the weird things in my life, I'd never given it much thought before.

"If my father is so interested in me," I said, "why isn't he here? Why doesn't he speak to me?"

A cold current rose out of the depths.

"Do not judge the Lord of the Sea too harshly," the Nereid told me. "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 favouritism."

"Even to their own children? Seems a bit harsh."

"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. Four white pearls flashed in her palm.

"I know you journey to Hades's 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?"

"Not at all ma'am,"

"Ah, but you have something else, Andromeda. You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive into womanhood. Poseidon would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

This was turning out to be a very cheerful conversation.

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

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. Keep faith. Good luck, Andromeda Jackson."

She summoned her sea horse and rode toward the void.

"Wait!" I called. "At the river, you said not to trust the gifts. What gifts?"

"Goodbye, young heroine," she called back, her voice fading into the depths. "You must listen to your heart." She became a speck of glowing green, and then she was gone.

We had so little time to dwell on everything that she had said and the others were waiting for me...I kicked upward toward the shore.

When I reached the beach, my clothes dried instantly. I told Luke, Grover and Annabeth what had happened, and showed them the pearls.

Annabeth grimaced. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." She shook her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into American. There will be a price. You wait."

"Thank you, Annabeth, for that cheery note," I smiled at her, before taking a deep breath to prevent the inevitable onset of an existential life crisis. "We need to reach Hades."

"Chiron said the Big Sur. That's hours away." Grover whined, as I fiddled with the casino card, all of us wandering aimlessly around the city. We didn't know what to do.

Then Annabeth had the bright idea to look for the address that she'd found in Aunty Em's emporium, which might have something to do with the Underworld, but it didn't appear in the phone book.

Twice, we ducked into alleys to avoid cop cars due to my position on the most wanted list.

I froze in front of an appliance-store window because a television was playing an interview with somebody who looked very familiar—my stepdad, Smelly Gabe. He was talking to Barbara Walters—I mean, as if he were some kind of huge celebrity. She was interviewing him in our apartment, in the middle of a poker game, and there was a young blond lady sitting next to him, patting his hand.

A fake tear glistened on his cheek. He was saying, "Honest, Ms. Walters, if it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counsellor, I'd be a wreck. My stepdaughter took everything I cared about. My wife...my Camaro...I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

"There you have it, America." Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "A man torn apart. An adolescent girl with serious issues. Let me show you, again, the last known photo of this troubled young fugitive, taken a week ago in Denver."

The screen cut to a grainy shot of me, Luke, Annabeth, and Grover standing outside the Colorado diner, talking to Ares.

"Who are the other children in this photo?" Barbara Walters asked dramatically. "Who is the man with them? Is Andromeda Jackson a delinquent, a terrorist, or perhaps the brainwashed victim of a frightening new cult? When we come back, we chat with a leading child psychologist. Stay tuned, America."

"Andi..." Luke trailed off, noticing the dark glare on my face. "Let's go."

It got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as she wasn't stupid.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of Ares. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too. I didn't know how we were ever going to find Hades' address before the summer solstice.

We walked past gang bangers, bums, and street hawkers, who looked at us like they were trying to figure if we were worth the trouble of mugging.

As we hurried passed the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."

Like an idiot, I stopped. Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all—white kids with expensive clothes and mean faces. Like the kids at Yancy Academy: rich brats playing at being bad boys.

Luke, who had been walking ahead, doubled back. He stood beside me, the scar on his face and his glare scaring them enough for most to back off.

But their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at me with a switchblade. He advanced, but Luke pushed me back and punched the leader straight across the face. The boy went down like a blade of grass, instantly unconscious.

"Anyone else?" He hissed, his glare dark, and the kids ran off. "I'm not in the mood for this."

"That was hot," I murmured to him, as his glare faltered, turning to look at me before looking past my shoulders.

"Shit, police," We all froze, hearing the oncoming sirens and bolting.

"There!" Annabeth shouted.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated, as Annabeth, Luke and I simultaneously cursed our dyslexia. It didn't sound like a place I'd ever go except in an emergency, but this definitely qualified.

We burst through the doors, ran behind a water bed, and ducked. A split second later, the policemen ran past outside.

"I think we lost them," Grover panted.

A voice behind us boomed, "Lost who?"

We all jumped.

Standing behind us was a guy who looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. 

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile.

I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are indeed the crustiest of them all.

"Sorry to barge in," I told him. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good policemen," he grumbled. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

I was about to say No, thanks, when he put a huge paw on my shoulder and steered me deeper into the showroom. Turning around, I mimed SOS at Luke and the others, who followed along.

There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavoured Jell-O.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way."

"Um," I said, "I don't think..."

"Million-hand massage!" Grover cried, and dove in. "Oh, you guys! This is cool."

"Hmm," Crusty said, stroking his leathery chin. "Almost, almost."

"Almost what?" I asked.

He looked at Annabeth. "Do me a favour and try this one over here, honey. Might fit."

Annabeth said, "But what—"

He patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and led her over to the Safari Deluxe model with teak wood lions carved into the frame and a leopard-patterned comforter. When Annabeth didn't want to lie down, Crusty pushed her.

"Hey!" she protested.

Crusty snapped his fingers. "Ergo!"

Ropes sprang from the sides of the bed, lashing around Annabeth, holding her to the mattress. Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black-satin bed, too, and lashed him down. Another set of ropes came from another bed, wrapping around Luke and yanking him onto one of the other beds.

"N-not c-c-cool!" Grover yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N-not c-cool a-at all!"

The giant looked at Annabeth, then turned toward me and grinned. "Almost, darn it."

I tried to step away, but his hand shot out and clamped around the back of my neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry. We'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go."

"Oh, sure I will. But I got to make them fit, first."

"What do you mean?"

"All the beds are exactly six feet, see? Your friends are too short, and he's too long. Got to make them fit."

Annabeth and Grover kept struggling.

"Can't stand imperfect measurements," Crusty muttered. "Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leaped out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Grover and Annabeth's ankles, then around their armpits. The ropes started tightening, pulling my friends from both ends.

"Don't worry," Crusty told me, "These are stretching jobs. Maybe three extra inches on their spines. They might even live. Now why don't we find a bed you like, huh?"

I turned to look at Luke, to see that the bed was struggling to work out what to do with his extra height.

"Romy!" Grover yelled.

My mind was racing. I knew I couldn't take on this giant waterbed salesman alone. He would snap my neck before I ever got my sword out. Plus, I wasn't all that great.

"Your real name's not Crusty, is it?" I asked.

"Legally, it's Procrustes," he admitted.

"The Stretcher," I said. I remembered the story: the giant who'd tried to kill Theseus with excess hospitality on his way to Athens. See, my brain was useful for somethings.

"Yeah," the salesman said. "But who can pronounce Procrustes?  Bad for business. Now 'Crusty,' anybody can say that."

"You're right. It's got a good ring to it."

His eyes lit up. "You think so?"

"Oh, absolutely," I said. "And the workmanship on these beds? Fabulous!"

He grinned hugely, but his fingers didn't loosen on my neck. "I tell my customers that. Every time. Nobody bothers to look at the workmanship. How many built-in Lava Lamp headboards have you seen?"

"Not too many."

"That's right!"

"Andromeda!" Annabeth yelled. "What are you doing?"

"Don't mind her," I told Procrustes. "She's impossible sometimes."

The giant laughed. "All my customers are. Never six feet exactly. So inconsiderate. And then they complain about the fitting."

"What do you do if they're longer than six feet?"

"Oh, that happens all the time. It's a simple fix."

He let go of my neck, but before I could react, he reached behind a nearby sales desk and brought out a huge double-bladed brass axe. He said, "I just centre the subject as best I can and lop off whatever hangs over on either end."

"Ah," I said, swallowing hard as Luke caught my eyes and began to shake his head. "Sensible."

"Andi!"

"I'm so glad to come across an intelligent customer!"

The ropes were really stretching my friends now. Annabeth was turning pale. Grover made gurgling sounds, like a strangled goose and Luke was looking more and more panicked at the sight of the axe.

"So, Crusty..." I said, trying to keep my voice light. I glanced at the sales tag on the valentine-shaped Honeymoon Special. "Does this one really have dynamic stabilizers to stop wave motion?"

"Absolutely. Try it out."

"Yeah, maybe I will. But would it work even for a big guy like you? No waves at all?"

"Guaranteed."

"No way."

"Way."

"Show me."

He sat down eagerly on the bed, patted the mattress. "No waves. See?"

I snapped my fingers. "Ergo."

Ropes lashed around Crusty and flattened him against the mattress.

"Hey!" he yelled.

"Centre him just right," I said.

The ropes readjusted themselves at my command. Crusty's whole head stuck out the top. His feet stuck out the bottom.

"No!" he said. "Wait! This is just a demo."

I uncapped Riptide. "A few simple adjustments you said..."

I only had some regrets about doing this. If Crusty were human, I couldn't hurt him anyway. If he was a monster, he deserved to turn into dust for a while and he was hurting my friends. God, my morals were getting worse.

"You drive a hard bargain," he told me. "I'll give you thirty percent off on selected floor models.'"

"I think I'll start with the top." I raised my sword.

"No money down! No interest for six months!"

I swung the sword. Crusty stopped making offers. I cut the ropes on the other beds. Annabeth and Grover got to their feet, groaning and wincing and cursing me a lot, which I didn't appreciate. Luke was luckily only pale.

"You look taller," I said.

"Very funny," Annabeth said. "Be faster next time."

"I thought I was going to lose my height," Luke murmured as I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a business card, wreathed in...

"Daffodils." I grabbed the card. "This is Hades' address."

"How do you know?"

"Because her symbol is a daffodil. Find a taxi, we're going up the coast more."

∘☽༓☾∘

Hiya,

So, Luke is so over protective of the trio and him punching the leader is *chefs kiss*. Anyhow, I just really love this trio and Andi thinking that launching herself to the bottom of the ocean is the way to get out of her responsibilities. Also, we've got a change in places cause Hades lives on the coast in this book for his lovely wife. There will still be other fun things though.

Let me know what you think,

Love Li xx