︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

DAYS IN THE SUN

chapter eight
❛ 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚒𝚏𝚝, 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚌𝚎. ❜

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

     ANNABETH LOADED THE two demigods and satyr into the back of an Las Vegas taxi. "Los Angeles, please." The blonde requested while the driver sized them up, his actions already beginning to irritate Amara. "That's three hundred miles, and for that, you got to pay up front."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asked.

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

The Chase girl handed him her green LotusCash card, he looked at it skeptically. "Swipe it." She invited and he did as he was told. The meter machine racked up to an infinity sign and the cabbie's cigar fell from his lips. "Where to in Los Angeles . . . uh, your majesty?"

"The Santa Monic Pier." Annabeth sat up a little straighter, causing Amara to cover her mouth with her hand to stop her snickering. "Get us there fast and you can keep the change."

During the drive, Percy told them about his dreams, but she could tell by his words the details got sketchier the more he tried to remember them. He couldn't recall what the invisible servant's voice had sounded like, though he said he was sure it was somebody he knew. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than 'my lord' . . . some special name or title . . .

"The Silent One?" The electric eyed girl offered. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."

"Maybe . . ." He trailed off.

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

He shook his head. "Somethings 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."

Amara froze as her mind began racing a thousand miles an hour, possibilities and connections being thought over as she recalled his words. "What?" Percy asked, turning his attention on her.

Annabeth shook her head, taking Percy's attention off the brunette, something she was grateful for. "Oh . . . nothing. It has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the Master Bolt, and something went wrong—"

"Like what?" Percy butted in.

"I—I don't know." Annabeth said. "But if he 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."

"But if I've already retrieved the bolt, why would I be traveling to the Underworld?"

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

Percy frowned. "You have evil thoughts for a goat."

"Why, thank you."

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

Grover shook his head, clearly mystified. Amara was looking at Percy, she figured she knew what his next question was going to be, but she was silently begging for him not to ask it. "You have an idea what might be in that pit, don't you?" Percy asked her. "I mean, if it isn't Hades?"

"Jackson," She frowned, before quickly changing the topic. "Let's not talk about it. Because if it isn't Hades . . . Never mind. It has to be Hades."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

At sunset, the taxi dropped them off at the beach in Santa Monica. Amara looked around, soaking in the environment as she made sure to commit it to memory. She hadn't been to a beach in years, so this was new to her. Carnival rides lined up the pier, palm trees lining the sidewalks, homeless guys sleeping in the sand dunes, and surfer dudes waiting for the perfect wave.

A grin curled onto her lips as her worries disappeared for the time being from the cool breeze passing by her, blowing her hair out of her face as it twisted between her fingers and her strands of hair. Her gaze locked on the sky above as the sight that reminded her of her dad was enough to calm her nerves after seeing the ocean waves.

"What now?" Annabeth asked, pulling the brunette's gaze away from the sky. She watched as Percy took a step towards the water, and found herself taking a step back. "Percy?" The blonde asked. "What are you doing?"

The raven haired boy didn't reply to her, instead he stepped into the water and continued walking until he was up to his chest. The Grace felt sick to her stomach at the thought of being surrounded by the water like that, and took another step back

"You know how polluted that water is? There's all kinds of toxic—" Annabeth stopped abruptly as Percy's head disappeared under the water.

"He's crazy," Amara muttered, planting herself into the sand as she looked around, memories rushing through her mind. She remembered when they were four runaways, stumbling upon a beach. Luke would always insist they deserved to be kids and go for a swim, resulting in Thalia usually agreeing with him and Annabeth excited to go swimming. But even back then, she still had her fear of the water.

Luke and Annabeth, they were always the one's in the water trying to encourage her to get in. Thalia would be right besides her, taking it slow and holding her hand the whole time. Sometimes she would get close, but the waves would freak her out and she would have to start back at square one.

When that happened, it was a deal between Luke and Thalia to switch. The oldest Grace would also get time to enjoy herself and watch Annabeth while Luke would make his way out of the water, picking Amara up, and make his way into the water with her on his shoulders. By doing so, it allowed her to experience fun with the others until she was ready to try again.

As her memory came to a close, Percy resurfaced from the water, pushing against the surf and making his way onto the beach. Annabeth and Grover rushed over to him, while Amara took her time so she didn't have to be near the sea. He held out three glistening pearls, and told them about his conversation with the water Nereid while Annabeth grimaced.

"No gift comes without a price." The Chase girl said.

"They were free." Percy said.

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

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

With some spare change from Ares's backpack, they took the bus into West Hollywood. Amara showed the driver the Underworld address slip she had taken from Percy, who had taken it from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but the driver had never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

"You remind me of somebody I saw on television." The driver told Percy. "You a child actor or something?"

"Uh . . . I'm a stunt double . . . For a lot of child actors."

"Oh, that explains it!"

They hurried off at the next stop. The four wondered around for miles on foot, trying to find the 'DOA Recording Studios,' but nobody seemed to know where or even what it was. It didn't even appear in the phone book. Twice, they had to duck into alleyways to avoid the police, reminding the brunette of her times as a runaway.

Percy suddenly stopped in front of an appliance store window, causing a domino effect as Annabeth bumped into him, then Amara bumped into her, and Grover bumped into her. The Jackson boy's eyes were hardened as he watched one of the televisions play a interview in the shop screens, so she copied his action.

A man — probably one of the ugliest she's ever seen — was being interviewed by a woman named Barbara Walters in the middle of a poker game in a apartment. Besides him, there was a young blonde lady patting his hand, fake tears glistened his cheeks as Amara held back a scoff. She's always hated attention seekers.

"Honestly, Ms. Walters." He was saying. "If it wasn't for Sugar here, my grief counselor, I'd be a wreck. My stepson took everything I cared about. My wife . . . my Camaro . . . I—I'm sorry. I have trouble talking about it."

Barbara Walters turned to the camera. "There you have it, America. A man torn apart, and an adolescent boy 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 Percy, Amara, 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 Percy 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."

Amara's mind began to wander as she saw herself in the picture, and couldn't help but wonder if her mother was watching the tv. Was Beryl Grace still the same as she always was? Or had she finally changed back into the respectable movie star she had once been? A frown curled onto her lips as she wondered if her mom even recognized her own daughter, or just waved her hand at the TV before switching to another channel, grumbling about them being stupid kids.

Grover's hand rested on the Grace's shoulder, pulling her out of her thoughts. "C'mon," the satyr guided her alongside him as they followed the other two demigods, the sky getting dark as hungry looking people starting coming out on the streets to play.

Her eyes roamed past gangbangers, bum, and street hawkers, all who looked at the demigods and satyr like they were trying to figure out if they were worth the trouble of mugging. As they pasted the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness called out to them. "Hey, you," like the Seaweed Brain he was, Percy turned around, causing Amara to let out a groan at his actions. And before she realized it, they were surrounded, six of them were all rich white kids with expensive clothes and non friendly faces.

Percy uncapped Riptide, once the swords appeared, the boys backed off, all except for their leader. A switchblade slid to his fingers from his sleeve as he kept coming forward. The brunette could see the raven haired boy raising his arm to swipe his sword, "wait, Percy." She tried to stop him but it was too late, he already swung his sword. The blade passed through the leader's stomach, transparent, but it was obvious he had felt something because he let out a loud yelp. "What the . . ." The leader looked down, frowning.

"Run!" Percy screamed, and the demigods and satyr took off. "You're an idiot!" Amara yelled as she ran next to the son of Poseidon. "An idiot! An absolute Kelp Head!"

"Not now Amara!"

"There!" Annabeth pointed to a building, only one store on the block was open, it's windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door read something along the lines of

CRTUY'S WATER DEB ALPACE.

"Crusty's Waterbed Palace?" Grover translated with a frown.

They bursted through the doors. Annabeth grabbing Grover and running behind a water bed leaving Amara to grab Percy's arm as they ran behind a different water bed and hid. Not long after, the gang kids ran past outside.

She turned to the sea green eyed boy besides her, lightly shoving him. "Kelp for brain," she said, earning herself a look from the boy as he rolled his eyes. "Thanks Amara, that means so much."

She gave him a mock of a sweet smile, it dropping as quickly as it had appeared. "I think . . . we lost them," the satyr panted.

"Lost who?" A voice boomed behind them, causing the brunette to nearly jump at the sound of a voice behind her all of a sudden. "I'm Crusty." He introduced with a tartar yellow smile. She grimaced, "I can see that." Percy elbowed her in the side.

"Sorry to barge in." The Jackson boy told him, returning his arm to his side. "We were just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no good kids?" 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 waterbed?"

Crusty stepped behind them and steered the demigods and satyr deeper into the showroom. Amara shot a look to Annabeth, but the blonde merely gave her a defeated look.

"This is my most popular model." He spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, built-in Lava Lamps on the headboards. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored jelly. "Million hand massage. Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today anyway."

"Uh, I don't think so . . ."

"Million hand massage!" Grover leapt onto the bed and began to wiggle. "Oh, you guys! This is so cool!"

"Hmmm, almost, almost." Crusty muttered as he stroked his leathery chin.

Percy frowned. "Almost what?"

Crusty looked to the female duo. "Hmm . . . You two do me a favor and try these over here, girls. Might fit." He grabbed them by the shoulders and dragged them over to the Safari Deluxe, covered in teakwoods lions carved into the frame and leopard patterned bedspread and sky blue, resembling the sky above.

"I'd rather not," the electric eyed girl tried, but the man didn't give her much of a choice before she was pushed down onto the bed. "Hey!" She yelled, struggling against his grip but it was useless once he said, "Ergo!" And snapped his fingers, causing ropes to come out of the sides of the mattress and tie her to the furniture.

Grover tried to get up, but ropes sprang from his black satin bed as well, lashing him back down. "N—not c—c—cool!" He yelled, his voice vibrating from the million-hand massage. "N—not c—cool a—at all!"

Crusty looked at Annabeth, before his eyes landed on Amara, his lips curled into a grin. "Almost, darn it." Her eyes narrowed as she struggled against the ropes once more.

Percy attempted to step back, but the monster's hand shot out, clamping itself around the back of his neck. "Whoa, kid. Don't worry, we'll find you one in a sec."

"Let my friends go," he ordered, but his words were ignored. Amara met his eyes, and nudged her head in the direction of the door. His eyes widened, disbelief becoming clear on his expression.

"Oh, sure I will," Crusty finally answered. "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. Got to make them fit." He carried on. "Can't stand imperfect measurements. Ergo!"

A new set of ropes leapt out from the top and bottom of the beds, wrapping around Amara's hands and ankles. At first, the ropes started tightening, then they started pulling. She could feel her back crunching, but then the crunching turned to snapping. She felt as if her joints were going to pop out, her ankles and arms would be detached from her body. She bit her lip to suppress a scream and threw her head back to avoid tears, the action not going unnoticed by Percy. "Amara!" He cried, attempting to race forward, but Crusty grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

The monster forced the raven haired boy to stay there for a few more seconds, to watch as his friends got stretched and pushed beyond their limits. The action causing Percy to get angrier as a painful cry escaped the Grace's lips, and with that, Crusty pulled the Jackson boy away from their beds.

Amara's ears were ringing as her nails dug into her palms, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to concentrate on anything but the pain and the cries of her friends in pain. She bit her lip once she felt her spine crack, and resisted the urge to let out another painful cry that threatened to escape, but she managed to keep it in.

Finally, her torture was over when a slice of celestial bronze cut through her ropes and freed her body from the massage trap. A groan escaping as she relaxed her body against the mattress, trying to process the pain and changes she had just gone through. Percy stood besides the bed, his lip between his teeth as he had a concerned look, his hand held out for her.

Giving him a small grin, she accepted his hand, stumbling forward once her feet hit the ground. "You look taller," he remarked, giving a small smile until it dropped from the glare he was receiving from the three.

"Very funny," Annabeth grumbled, wrapping an arm around Grover's shoulder as he did the same. "Be faster next time."

"Come on," the son of Poseidon gave the daughter of Zeus a look as he rested her arm across his shoulder, asking her a silent question. She said nothing as she leaned her body against his, accepting his help. Annabeth scoffed. "Slow down, you didn't just have your spine broken multiple times."

"Give us a minute!" Grover complained. "We were almost stretched to death!"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld." He said. "It's only a block from here."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

Amara walked inside the doa lobby besides Annabeth, music played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel grey, pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, with every seat being taken. People were sitting on couches, standing up, staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody was moving, talking, or doing anything.

Since the security guard's desk was a raised podium, she had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate covered skin and bleached blond hair shaved military style. He was wearing tortoiseshell shades with a silk Italian suit that matched his hair, a black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

"Your name is Chiron?" Percy asked.

"What a precious young lad." He had a accent, British, but it was also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur!"

"N—no." Percy stuttered.

"Sir." He added.

"Sir." Percy repeated, and Amara couldn't help her small smirk that formed with how easily Charon was able to make the son of Poseidon do as he said.

The tall man held onto his name tag. "Can you read this, mate? It says Charon. Say it with me, Cha-ron."

"Charon."

"Amazing. Now, Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon."

"Well done." Charon sat back in his chair as the brunette's smirk grew. "I hate being confused with that old horseman. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

"We want to go to the Underworld." Amara said bluntly, her smirk gone to show she was serious.

"Well that's refreshing." Charon smirked.

"It is?" Annabeth asked with shock.

"Straight forward and honest. No screaming. No 'there must be a mistake, Mr. Charon." He looked them over. "How did you die, then?"

The electric eyed girl nudged Grover. "We . . . drowned . . . in a bathtub . . ."

"All four of you?" Charon asked.

They nodded. "Big bathtub." He looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally with adults, you see, I could charge their American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children . . . alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"But we have coins." The daughter of Zeus set three gold drachmas on the table.

"Well, now . . ." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real gold drachmas. I haven't seen these in . . ." His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

Then, he looked at Percy. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No." Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld." Percy insisted.

"Leave while you can." He said. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you—"

Percy snatched the drachmas before Charon could reach them.

"No service, no tip." Percy snapped.

"It's a shame, too." Amara sighed. "We had more to offer." She held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash, taking out a fistful of drachmas and let the hold spill through her fingers.

Charon's growl changed to more of a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, godling? Eh, just out of curiosity . . . how much have you got there?"

"A lot." Percy said. "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'please don't let me be dead' or 'please let me cross for free.' I haven't had a pay rise in three thousands years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better." Percy agreed. Amara watched the sea green eyed boy with a smirk, impressed by the way he was bending Charon to his will. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay." With each word, he stacked another gold coin on the counter from her bag.

"I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

He stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay rise while I'm talking to Hades . . ."

Charon sighed. "The boats almost full, anyway. I might as well add you four and be off." He picked up the money quickly. "Come along."

They pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, each grabbing at their clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things Amara couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."

They were escorted into the elevator, which was filled with the spirits of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. Charon grabbed two spirits who were trying to get in with them and pushed them back into the lobby.

"Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I'm gone." He announced to the room. "And if anyone moves the dial off my easy listening station again, I'll make sure you're here for another thousand years. Understand?"

He shut the doors, putting a key card into the elevator slot and they started to descend.

"What happens to the spirits waiting in the lobby?" Annabeth asked.

"Nothing." Charon said.

"For how long?"

"Forever, or until I'm feeling generous."

"Oh," the blonde cleared her throat. "That's . . . fair."

Charon raised an eyebrow. "Whoever said death was fair, young miss? Wait until it's your turn. You'll die soon enough, where you're going."

"We'll get out alive." Percy interjected.

"Ha."

Amara got a sudden dizzy feeling. They weren't going down anymore, but forward. The air turned misty. Spirits around them started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into gray hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. She blinked hard and when she reopened her eyes, Charon's Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should've been, were now empty sockets like Ares's eyes, except Charon's were totally dark, full of night, death, and despair.

Charon noticed her observing. "Well?"

"Nothing." She mumbled, thinking he was grinning, but that wasn't it. The flesh of his face was becoming transparent, letting her see straight through to his skull.

The floor kept swaying the whole way day. "I think I'm getting seasick." Grover murmured.

When she blinked again, the elevator wasn't an elevator anymore, instead they were standing in a wooden barge. Charon was poling everyone across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, strange things, plastic dolls, crushed car-nations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

"The River Styx." Annabeth mumbled. "It's so . . ."

"Polluted?" He offered. "For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing away everything that you come across, hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me."

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above her, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color being poison. Panic closed up in Amara's throat. What was she doing here? These people around her . . . they were dead. She crossed her arms over her chest, gripping tightly onto her jacket that reminded her of her sister, a silent reassurance that she was still alive, not dead, and will be back in the world of the living soon.

Soon, the shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about fifty meters to the base of a high stone wall, which stretched off in either direction as far as she could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones—the howl of a large animal.

"Old Three-Face is hungry. Bad luck for you godlings." Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the green light, washing him out and making him look even more ghostly as the bottom of the boat slid onto the black sand, the dead beginning to disembark. A mother holding her daughter's hand, an elderly couple hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older then Amara was, shuffling silently along in his gray robe.

"I'd wish you luck, mate. But there isn't any down here. Mind you, don't forget to mention my pay rise." The ferryman counted their gold coins into his pouch, then took up his pole. He worded something that sounded like a Barry Manilow song as he ferried the empty barge back across the river.

There were three separate entrances under one huge black archway that said YOU ARE NOW ENTERING EREBUS. Each entrance had a pass through metal detector with security cameras mounted on top. Beyond this were tollbooths manned by black-robed ghouls like Charon. The dead queued up in the three lines, two marked ATTENDANT ON DUTY, and one marked EZ DEATH. The EZ DEATH line was moving right along. The other two were crawling.

"What do you figure?" Percy asked Annabeth.

"The fast line must got straight to Asphodel." She said. "No contest. They don't want to risk judgement from the court, because it might go against them."

"There's a court for dead people?"

Amara nodded. "Yeah, three judges. They switch who sits on the bench. King Minos, Thomas Jefferson, Shakesphere, people like that. Sometimes they look at a life and decide if someone needs a special reward, the Fields of Elysium. Sometimes they decide on punishment. But most people, they just lived. Nothing special, good or bad. So they go to the Fields of Asphodel."

"And do what?"

"Imagine standing in a wheat field in Kansas. Forever." She explained.

"Harsh."

But Amara wasn't paying attention anymore. Her gaze lingered on the Fields of Asphodel, a silent question in the back of her mind. It was itching to get answered, to know the truth. After all these years she couldn't help but be curious, is that where her sister ended up? Or was she as courageous as ever and faced the three judges? To try and end up in Elysium, where all the brave and great heroes end up? She knew that's where her sister belonged the most, but who knew with the judges. And then her mind wondered to him, he was just a baby but he was still a demigod. So where would he end up? A part of her hoped her mother had lied to them and he wasn't dead, but being a son of Zeus, she knew he wouldn't stand a chance all by himself. All she could hope was they granted him Elysium, and he'd been able to keep growing and was joined by Thalia.

"Am?" Annabeth's voice registered in her mind as electric blue met stormy grey. "You coming?" Wordlessly, the brunette followed after the blonde.

After that, the four got closer to the gates and the howling was now so loud it shook the ground at their feet. But Cerberus was still nowhere to be seen. Until the green mist in front of them shifted and shimmered. Standing before them just where the path split into three lanes was an enormous shadowy, three-headed hound. The Grace hadn't seen him before, because like all the other spirits that surrounded them, he was transparent and blended in with whatever was behind it when it moved. The only solid thing about it was his beady eyes and long, sharp teeth.

"He's a rottweiler." Percy stated, staring at Cerberus with wide eyes and a hung open jaw.

She rolled her eyes at the son of Poseidon.

The dead walked up to Cerberus with no fear at all. The ATTENDANT ON DUTY lines parted on either side of him. The EZ DEATH spirits walked right between his front paws and under his humongous belly, which they could do without even crouching.

"I'm starting to see him better. Why is that?" Percy muttered.

Annabeth gulped. "I think. . . I'm afraid it's because we're getting closer to death."

"Fun." Amara muttered, sarcasm dripping from her tone as she stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets.

Cerberus's middle head craned towards them as he sniffed the air and growled.

"It can smell the living."

"Yes." She agreed.

"But that's okay." Grover said, trembling next to the daughter of Zeus. "Because we have a plan."

"Right." Annabeth said. "A plan."

The four moved towards the monster. The middle head snarled at them, then barked so loud that Amara's whole body rattled. "Can you understand it?" Percy asked Grover.

"Oh yeah." He nodded slowly. "I can understand it."

"What's it saying?"

"I don't think humans have a four-letter word that translates, exactly." Grover gulped.

The raven haired boy started rummaging through his bag, pulling out a snapped bedpost from Crusty's. He held it up to Cerberus and gave a wide, happy smile that on his terrified face looked strange. He waved the stick.

"Hey, Big Fella." He called up. "I bet they don't play with you much."

Cerberus' growl was almost like a roar.

"Good boy," Percy said weakly.

The brunette groaned at his stupidity, earning her a look from Annabeth who scowled the girl. "Not the time, Am."

He waved the bedpost once more, and the dog's middle head followed the movement. The other two heads trained their eyes on Percy, completely ignoring the spirits. He had Cerberus' undivided attention, and she wasn't quite sure whether that was a good thing.

"Fetch!" Percy threw the stick into the gloom, a good solid throw. Amara heard it go splash into the River Styx. Cerberus glared at Percy, unimpressed. His eyes were baleful and cold.

So much for the plan. Cerberus was now making a new kind of growl, deeper down in his throats. "Um." Grover hesitated. "Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah?"

"Cerberus? He's saying we've got ten seconds to pray to the god of our choice. After that . . . well . . . he's hungry."

The daughter of Zeus sent the son of Poseidon a look, giving him a mock of a smile. "Nice one, Seaweed Brain."

"What? Like you got any better ideas?"

"Wait!" Annabeth exclaimed as she started ruffling through her pack. She produced a red rubber ball the size of a grapefruit. It was labeled WATERLAND, DENVER, CO.

A grin curled onto Amara's lips as she took the ball from the blonde. "Actually," she said, walking towards the giant animal. "I do." Before anyone could stop her, she made her way to Cerberus, stopping in front of him. "See the ball?" She asked, earning the the three head's attention. "You want the ball, Cerberus? Sit!"

The protector looked stunned, just like the two demigods and satyr who stood behind the Grace was. All three of his heads was cocked sideways, their nostrils dilated. "Come on, boy. Sit!" She instructed.

Cerberus licked his three set of lips, shifting on his legs before he sat, immediately crushing a dozen spirits who'd had been passing underneath him in the EZ DEATH line. The spirits made muffled hisses as they dissipated, "good boy!" She congratulated.

Pulling her arm back, she threw the guard the ball. He caught it in his middle mouth, barely big enough for him to chew. The other heads started snapping at the middle, trying to get to the new toy.

"Hey," she called. "Drop it!" The heads stopped fighting and looked at her, the ball wedged between two of his teeth like a piece of gum. He made a loud whimper before dropping the ball at Amara's feet, it was now nearly bit in half and covered in saliva.

She picked it up, ignoring the slimy spit and turned to her comrades. "Go now. EZ DEATH line—it's faster."

"But—" Annabeth hesitated.

"Now." Amara ordered, in the same tone she was using on the dog.

The three inched forward warily while Cerberus started to growl. "Stay!" She ordered the monster. "If you want the ball, stay!" Cerberus whimpered, but he stayed where he was.

"What about you?" Percy asked the brunette as they passed her.

"I know what I'm doing, Percy." She muttered.

The two demigods and satyr made it between the protector's legs without being sat on.

"Good boy!" Amara complimented him again as she held up the tattered red ball, and threw it. The monster's left mouth immediately snatched it up, only to be attacked by the middle head, while the right head moaned in protest.

While the monster was distracted, she briskly walked under its belly and joined the others at the metal detector.

"How did you do that?" Percy asked her, amazement in his eyes.

She shrugged. "I've always been good with animals. When I was little, I once got a . . . "

"Never mind that." Grover said, tugging at the raven haired boy's shirt. "Come on!"

They were about to race through the EZ DEATH line when Cerberus moaned pitifully from all three mouths, causing Amara to stop. She turned to face the dog, which had done a one-eighty to look at them. He panted expectantly, the tiny red ball in pieces in a puddle of drool at its feet.

"Good boy." She said, her voice low. The monster's head turned sideways as if worried about her. "I'll bring you another ball soon." The brunette promised faintly. "Would you like that?"

The monster whimpered. She didn't need to speak dog to know Cerberus was still waiting for the ball. "Good boy, I'll come visit you soon. I promise." She turned to the other three. "Let's go."

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3-21-23

hello hello! thank you all so much for the support of mythology! i am happy to say only two more chapters left and then we move into part two, which i am very excited about and have so many plans for. thank you all for the patience and i hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and i'll see you in the next one !