sixteen.
( the lightning thief. )
❛ m-a-m-a-s b-o-y. ❜

THE UNDERWORLD WAS LIKE a concert. A large, overly crowded concert with no music or lights, no friendly chatter or shared excitement. Like the whispers of something dark occurring backstage and halting a show. To Percy, that's exactly what the fields of asphodel were depicted to be. The black grass had been visibly trampled by eons of dead and withered feet. A warm, moist wind blew like the breath of the witching hour and huge overgrown trees-Grover told them they were poplars-grew in clumps here and there.

The cavern ceiling ascended menacingly high above them. it might've been a bank of storm clouds, except for the stalactites, which glowed faint gray and looked wickedly pointed. It was tough trying not to imagine they'd fall into the ground below at any moment, but dotted around the fields were several that had fallen and impaled themselves in the black grass. It seemed the dead didn't have to worry about little hazards like being speared by stalactites the size of booster rockets.

The trio of demigods and the satyr were in the midst of trying to blend into the crowds, avoiding security and moving around sharply in an attempt to give themselves a sort of translucency that the spirits had. Percy could see Colette's churn of curiosity as she glanced around-almost succumbing to the urge to look for fallen heroes and campers despite how hard it was to distinguish features. They all looked slightly angry or perplexed. occasionally, a wandering soul would come up and speak, but their voices sound like chatter, like bats twittering. Once they realised it was impossible to understand them, they frowned and move away.

The dead weren't scary. They were just sad.

Still, they crept along, following the line of new arrivals that snaked from the main gates toward a black-tented pavilion with a banner that read:

JUDGEMENTS FOR ELYSIUM
AND ETERNAL DAMNATION
welcome, newly deceased!

Out the back of the tent came two much smaller lines. To the left, spirits were forced towards what looked to be the fields of punishment, which spewed and cracked with hot molten lava over a barren wasteland of endless agony. they could see a pool in the distance and a man trying desperately to reach for the fruit tree above him, forever out of reach and leaving him starved. Tantalus. And then further, they could just make out a tiny hill, with the ant-size figure of Sisyphus struggling to move his boulder to the top.

The line coming from the right side of the judgment pavilion was much better. This one led down toward a small valley surrounded by walls-a gated community, which seemed to be the only happy part of the Underworld. There were marble and golden mansions and villas from any and all ages, from Greek to Roman, medieval to modern. Silver and gold flowers bloomed on the lawns. The grass rippled in rainbow colors. vaguely, percy could hear laughter and smell barbecue cooking.

Elysium.

In the middle of that valley was a glittering blue lake, with three small islands like a vacation resort in the Bahamas. The Isles of the Blest, for people who had chosen to be reborn three times, and three times achieved Elysium. It radiated warmth and eternal bliss. Percy wanted that. And when he glanced to his friends, he wanted that for them too. It was almost painful to remember about Colette's ambitions with the hunters; it would make her immortal, prone to surviving death and never being sentenced to a passing of pleasure and divine mercy. He wondered, from the flicker of thought that flashed across her expression, whether or not she was thinking the same as he was.

"That's what it's all about," Annabeth was stood in awe and longing, she'd always had a habit of reading what was on somebody's mind. "That's the place for heroes." she spoke breathlessly.

it was pitiful to see how little people actually resided on the island. It was small, smaller than the fields of asphodel and the fields of punishment. it seemed many people did little in the eyes of judgment. With a sigh, they burrowed further away from the judgment pavilion and deeper into the asphodel fields. The hellish void around them grew darker with every step, embracing its sinister reputation. It was void of light and illumination, a place so dark that even the hues of what appeared to be silver under Colette's skin was hesitant to show. their clothes were being sullen and saturated of colour and the crowds of chattering people began to thin.

After a few miles of walking, the four began to hear a familiar screech in the distance. Looming on the horizon was a palace of glittering black obsidian, emitting an aura so deadly that Percy had to take a step back. Above the parapets swirled three dark batlike creatures: the Furies.

With a noise of fearful complaint grover let out, "I suppose it's too late to turn back," his voice was dripping with nervousness. his legs threatened to shake and though the daughter of artemis reached out to put a shaky hand on his shoulder, it was clear even she was beginning to doubt her own bravery.

"We'll be okay." Percy tried to sound confident, nodding his head surely as his hand tightened around his sword.

"Maybe we should search some of the other places first," Grover suggested in a much more begging tone. "Like, Elysium, for instance ..."

"Come on, goat boy." Annabeth grabbed his arm. Grover yelped as he fell forward. His sneakers sprouted wings and his legs shot forward, pulling him away from Annabeth. He landed flat on his back in the grass, looking petrified and confound.

"Grove," Colette gave him an uneasy stare, "stop messaging around. Let's just get it over and done with."

"But I didn't--" He yelped again, his shoes flapping rapidly. They levitated off the ground and started dragging him away from the three demigods. "Maia!" he let out a yell, but the magic word seemed to have no effect. "Maia, already! Nine-one-one! Help!"

Too stunned to move, the three could only watch until it was too late to grab for his hand. He was picking up speed, skidding downhill like a bobsled. Within seconds, the three were sprinting after him through the fields as fast as they could in a maze of dead souls. Fuelled by adrenaline, the three sped after him despite the dull ache in their calves that had blistered due to the continuous and straining amount of walking they'd already done.

As she was sprinting, Annabeth shrieked out an order to the older boy, "Untie the shoes!" It would've been a good idea had he not been plummeting faster than he could blink. Grover tried to sit up, but he couldn't get close to the laces. The three were desperately chasing after him, trying to keep him in sight as he ripped between the legs of spirits who chattered at him in annoyance. He was barrelling towards the gates of Hades's palace, but his shoes veered sharply to the right and dragged him in the opposite direction.

The slope got steeper and Grover picked up speed, much to Percy's horror. Annabeth, Percy and Colette had to push themselves to keep up. The cavern walls narrowed on either side, it seemed as though they'd entered some kind of side tunnel that only led deeper into a vast capsule of terror. No black grass or trees now, just rock underfoot, and the dim light of the stalactites above.

"Grover!" Percy's voice was strained as it echoed around the cave walls mockingly. "Hold on to something!"

"What?" he yelled back. He was grabbing at gravel, but there was nothing big enough to slow him down. The tunnel got darker and colder. The hairs on their arms bristled. It smelled evil down here, thick and churning with disturbance. It made them think of things they shouldn't even know about-blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer. Then as Percy saw what was ahead of them, he stopped in his tracks. The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.

Grover was sliding straight toward the edge.

"Come on, Percy!" Colette yelled, pushing him forward from his stopped trance. she tugged at his shirt collar desperately, using her arm to push him along.

"But that's-"

"I know!" she shouted with a heave. "The place you described in your dream! But Grover's going to fall if we don't catch him." She was panting, her eyes shimmering with urgency. Grover's predicament was enough to get him moving again. He was shrieking, clawing at the ground, but the winged shoes kept dragging him toward the pit, and it didn't look like anybody could possibly get to him in time.

What saved him were his hooves.

The flying sneakers had always been a loose fit on him, and finally Grover hit a big rock and the left shoe came flying off. It sped into the darkness, down into the chasm. The right shoe kept tugging him along, but not as fast. Fortunately, the satyr was able to slow himself down by grabbing on to the big rock and using it like an anchor. He was ten feet from the edge of the pit when they caught him and hauled him back up the slope. The other winged shoe tugged itself off, circled around them angrily and kicked their heads in protest before flying off into the chasm to join its twin.

The four all collapsed, exhausted, on the obsidian gravel. Percy could see the relief in Colette's glistening eyes, but he didn't have to ask to know her limbs were sore and churned like metal and fire. Grover was scratched up pretty bad and his dust-covered hands were bleeding. His eyes had gone slit-pupiled, goat style, the way they did whenever he was terrified.

"I don't know how ..." he panted. "I didn't..."

"Wait," Percy cut him off sternly, his eyes narrowed upon something deeper in the darkness. "Listen." There was something whistling and whispering for them, persuading them to lean closer.

Another few seconds, and Annabeth said, "Percy, this place-"

Percy shushed her loudly. The sound was getting louder, so much so that Colette winced as she crept closer. It was rising from the pit. "Percy, don't." Colette was trying to nudge him backwards.

Grover sat up. "Wh-what's that noise?"

Annabeth heard it too, now, it was avid in her eyes. "Tartarus. The entrance to Tartarus." It was reeking with an aura so livid and menacing that the four could feel their bones shaking just from being nearby. A place damned to forever condemn the souls of the wrong. It was growling, like the stomach of a beast that was still hungry after a four-course meal.

Percy's bronze sword expanded, gleaming in the darkness, and the evil voice seemed to falter, just for a moment, before resuming its chant. The sound was resonating, beating loudly like a heartbeat that Colette could almost make out. It was older than greek, older than any language she'd ever heard. "Magic," the word spilled from her lips quicker than she could stop it.

"We have to get out of here," Annabeth was tugging on Colette's arm, pulling her up. She didn't protest as they left, scrambling to get away from the pit. The voice was getting sharper, trying to pull them back in which it almost did successfully due to their aching limbs. Soon enough, they were forcing themselves to sprint again. A cold blast of wind pulled at their backs, as if the entire pit were inhaling. For a terrifying moment, Percy lost his balance and would've fallen if Colette wasn't pushing him forward. If they'd been any closer to the edge, they would've been sucked in. The four kept struggling forward, and finally reached the top of the tunnel, where the cavern widened out into the Fields of Asphodel. The wind died as a wail of outrage echoed from deep in the tunnel. Something was not happy they'd gotten away.

"What was that?" Grover panted, when they collapsed in the relative safety of a black poplar grove. "One of Hades's pets?"

The three demigods shared a silent look of nervous thought. Percy capped his sword and put the pen back in his pocket. "Let's keep going." He looked at Grover. "Can you walk?"

the older boy swallowed thickly, as though cement had blocked his airways. "Yeah, sure. I never liked those shoes, anyway." He tried to sound brave about it, but he was trembling as badly as Annabeth and Colette were. Whatever was in that pit was nobody's pet. It was unspeakably old and powerful. Even Echidna hadn't given given him that feeling. He never thought he'd say it, but he was almost relieved to walk towards Hades' palace.

Almost.

The Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open. Up close, they saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times-an atomic bomb detonating over a city, a trench filled with gas mask-wearing soldiers, a line of African famine victims waiting with empty bowls-but all of them looked as if they'd been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago. Like foreseen prophecies written down and situated in time.

Inside the courtyard, there was a garden like none Colette had ever seen before. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and luminous plants grew without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as an adult fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa's garden statues-petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs-all smiling horrifically. In the center of the garden, almost secluded in a way that was meant to stand out, highlighting its unmatched beauty, was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms providing an iridescent hue of moonlight in the dark. "The garden of Persephone," Annabeth realised. "Keep walking."

There was a thick, mesmerisingly aromatic scent that fragmented the air, a scent that was borderline overwhelming as it floated around them. The smell of pomegranates. Had she not been familiar with the story of Persephone, Colette would've been compelled to taste one though she restrained herself. One bite of Underworld food, and they would never be able to leave.

They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The exterior of the palace radiated unattainable glory, and was doused in a flush of dark, pitchy glows as though the night sky itself had sent it's moon to chip and carve the palace into a fortress of the midnight hour. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above. Percy guessed they never had to worry about rain down here. Every side doorway was guarded by a skeleton in military gear. Some wore Greek armor, some British redcoat uniforms, some camouflage with tattered American flags on the shoulders. They carried spears or muskets, all different weaponry-all varying in types yet still just as deadly as the previous. None of them bothered to stop the four, but their hollow eye sockets followed them as they walked down the hall, toward the big set of doors at the opposite end. Two U.S. Marine skeletons guarded the doors. They grinned down at the four pre-teens, rocket-propelled grenade launchers held across their chests.

"You know," Grover mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

"What are we supposed to do now?" Colette whispered in a hush, "do we just... knock?" A humid, uncomfortable wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open so fast that the four flinched backwards. Like robots, the guards stepped aside.

With a tentative step forward, Annabeth harboured a look of hesitance and uncertainty, "I guess that means entrez-vous," she said and together, they all stepped in.

There was a throne before them, enriched with an elegant ambiance as the man who sat on it peered down at them, the obsidian pools of twinkling black that filled around his pupils watching them as though he'd been expecting them for centuries. He was tall, much taller than anybody percy had ever seen before. He was at least ten-feet-tall, with skin the colour of a wandering ghost and shoulder-length jet black hair. He looked almost familiar in a way, like somebody Percy had met but just couldn't put her finger on.

He lounged on a throne of human bones and tar. He resembled images of tyrants one would perhaps seen on the news and old historical figures that only scratched paintings remained of. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

His voice was oily yet stern, smooth like silk yet sharp as a dagger. "You are brave to come here, Son of Poseidon," he hummed, the rasp of his tone being enough to send a wintery chill through the floors of the palace, threatening to blow out the torches that bowed under his presence. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

His aura was as strong as Ares, if not ten times stronger. It was weakening and draining, sucking the essence out of life and living the mind as a plane of charcoal emptiness and melancholic bitterness. Percy was trembling but he swallowed his doubt, taking a step towards the throne. "Lord and Uncle, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out. Percy shuddered at the thought of being permanently stitched into the fabric of his clothes, an eternity of withering, whining cotton.

"Only two requests?" Hades mocked at them, narrowing his obsidian eyes. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

Beside his thrown, there was a slightly smaller one of pure ebony black forged to look like a flower and gilded with gold. Queen Persephone's. It was carved and designed to harbour the remains of spring, the scent of pine and roses yet the decay of winter and the goodbyes of ripe cherry blossoms. She was said to have been a cure for her Husband's unpredictable temper, but it was summer now. She was with her mother Demeter, the goddess of agriculture, in Olympus.

"Lord Hades, Look, sir, there can't be a war among the gods. It would be ... bad."

"Really bad," Colette added.

"Really, really bad." Grover accentuated, nodding his head surely.

"Return Zeus's master bolt to me," requested Percy, his voice holding a respect that he had never used before. "Please, sir. Let me carry it to Olympus."

Hades's eyes grew dangerously dark and he leaned forward to look down at Percy with a look close to lethal frustration. "You dare keep up this pretense, after what you have done?" his tone was colder, like winter had come early to wither and decay what was still months left of summer.

Percy blinked, looking back towards his friends for reassurance yet they all looked equally perplexed. Colette raised her eyebrows in surprise at the god's words. 'What you have done' apart from being a part-time nuisance, the boy hadn't done anything sinfully cruel - at least not enough to anger somebody as divine as a god.

With a frightful step forward, Colette peaked out from where she stood with Annabeth and Grover behind Percy. "Lord Hades," she placed on her most polite and gracious voice, "you keep saying 'what you have done' but... uhm... what exactly has he done?"

The throne room shook with a tremor so strong they probably felt it upstairs in Los Angeles. Debris fell from the cavern ceiling and the doors burst open all along the walls as a dozen skeletal warriors marched in, hundreds of them, from every time period and nation in Western civilization. They lined the perimeter of the room, blocking the exits and clapping their weapons against the floor in a rhythmic threat to insure that escape was not allowed. ultimately, the four were trapped at Hades' complete mercy.

Hades was glowering with rage as he sneered down at the daughter of Artemis, "Do you think I want war, godling?" well, you don't seem like somebody who advocates for peace.

"You are the Lord of the Dead," Percy spoke carefully, taking a step forward again to mask his friends. He stood before them defensively, "A war would expand your kingdom, right?"

Still seething, Hades collapsed back on his chair with exhaustion. "A typical thing for my brothers to say! Do you think I need more subjects? Did you not see the sprawl of the Asphodel Fields?"

"Well..."

"Have you any idea how much my kingdom has swollen in this past century alone," the god continued to groan, "how many subdivisions I've had to open?" When Percy went to respond, Hades continued to prevent him. "More security ghouls," he 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."

"Don't get me started on Charon!" Hades continued on with his furious speech, disregarding the four children who blinked at him unsurely. "He's been impossible ever since he discovered Italian suits! Problems everywhere, and I've got to handle all of them personally. The commute time alone from the palace to the gates is enough to drive me insane! And the dead just keep arriving. No, godling. I need no help getting subjects! I did not ask for this war."

Percy's eyebrows were furrowed and he looked shaken as he went to speak again, "But you took Zeus's master bolt." Colette had to fight the urge to smack the back of his head, accusing Hades of something was a dangerous thing to do.

The skies brewed with conflict, dimming the light that draped through the palace windows with a malicious and shadowy hue. "Lies!" There was more rumbling as Hades rose from his throne, towering to the height of a football goalpost. "Your father may fool Zeus, boy, but I am not so stupid. I see his plan." As he stood, the four took subtle steps back to distance themselves from the being that sneered down at them.

"His plan?"

Hades raised an accusatory finger at the four, "You were the thief on the winter solstice," he incriminated. "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 piped up, swallowing thickly from fear. "Lord Hades, your helm of darkness is missing, too?"

Hades narrowed his gaze on her, "Do not play innocent with me, girl. You, the satyr and that hinderance of a child of Artemis," he pointed a crooked finger at them, "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!" Yelled Percy in obvious distress. he took a timid step forward, his body shaking as he attempted to hide his obvious fear. "Poseidon didn't-I didn't-"

"I have said nothing of the helm's disappearance," Hades snarled, "because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I can ill afford for word to get out that my most powerful weapon of fear is missing. So I searched for you myself, and when it was clear you were coming to me to deliver your threat, I did not try to stop you."

"You didn't try to stop us? But-"

"Return my helm now, or I will stop death," Hades threatened. "That is my counterproposal. I will open the earth and have the dead pour back into the world. I will make your lands a nightmare. And you, Percy Jackson-your skeleton will lead my army out of the underworld." The skeletal soldiers all took one step forward, making their weapons ready.

Percy was scowling by now, void of fear that was washed away with offence as he stared at the god. He hated being falsely accused of something he didn't do, it made his blood run thick with vexation that clouded his thoughts. "You're as bad as Zeus," Percy accused in a sneer, ignoring the breath of surprise from his friends. "You think I stole from you? That's why you sent the Furies after me?" He shrugged off Colette's elbow to his back, a wordless plea for him to calm down.

"Of course," responded the god.

"And the other monsters?"

"Hades curled his lip. "I had nothing to do with them. I wanted no quick death for you-I wanted you brought before me alive so you might face every torture in the Fields of Punishment. Why do you think I let you enter my kingdom so easily?"

Colette raised an unimpressed eyebrow, "Easily?"

Hades narrowed his eyes on her, frowning like an angry child who'd lost their favourite toy. "Return my property!"

Percy crossed his arms, looking highly annoyed as he glowered at the god insistently. "But I don't have your helm. I came for the master bolt."

"Which you already possess!" Hades shouted, his scratchy voice as harrowing as the silence of the night and his eyes brewing with disturbed anger as he curled his crookedly long knuckles into a fist. "You came here with it, little fool, thinking you could you threaten me!"

"But I didn't!"

"Open your pack, then."

"Colette, as sure as she could be, gave Percy a positive look. One that was struck with belief. She may not've been his friend at first but that didn't mean she distrusted him now. But he didn't look as confident as he shrugged off the bag, he unzipped it and almost dropped it in his grip. The palace grew tense with apprehension as percy's knuckles turned white whilst he gripped the bag. Inside, a glow of light emitted followed by the spark of lightning as the master bolt glowed and hummed with electricity inside.

The silence was revolting.

"H-how did you.." peering inside, Colette's voice felt weighted, pierced with something Percy didn't recognise. she glanced again at the bag, then to percy with a look so unfamiliar that it made percy shudder.

"Collie, I didn't--"

"You heroes are always the same," Hades huffed. "Your pride makes you foolish, thinking you could bring such a weapon before me. I did not ask for Zeus's master bolt, but since it is here, you will yield it to me. I am sure it will make an excellent bargaining tool. And now ... my helm. Where is it?"

Percy was speechless, unable to get out a coherent sentence. His stomach brewed with nausea and confusion, concocting a feeling so vulnerable that all he wanted in the moment was to turn to his mother for comfort. but he couldn't. he had to face it alone. His friends were looking at him with a weary look-Colette, who had admitted her trust to him, was looking at him in... betrayal? He had no helm, he'd never even seen it. And had no idea how the master bolt had gotten into his backpack. He wanted to think Hades was pulling some kind of trick. Hades was the bad guy. But suddenly the world turned sideways. He was the fool, the pawn in the game of the gods. Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades had been set at each other's throats by someone else. The master bolt had been in the backpack, and he'd gotten the backpack from ...

oh, gods.

"Lord Hades, wait," his throat was tight and it almost hurt to speak. "This is all a mistake."

"A mistake?" Hades roared. The skeletons aimed their weapons. From high above, there was a fluttering of leathery wings, and the three Furies swooped down to perch on the back of their master's throne. The one with Mrs. Dodds's face grinned at him eagerly and flicked her whip. "There is no mistake," Hades scowled. "I know why you have come-I know the real reason you brought the bolt. You came to bargain for her."

Hades summoned a ball of gold fire from his palm. It exploded on the steps in front of him, and there was Percy's mother, frozen in a shower of gold, just as she was at the moment when the Minotaur began to squeeze her to death. Sally Jackson, still as warm as ever with her tender, familial essence. The boy felt as his eyes dared to swell with tears, his fingertips facing the burn of the fire as he tried desperately to reach her.

"Yes," Hades gleamed with satisfaction. "I took her. I knew, Percy Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helm, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change."

"His mind fell back to the pearls stored within his pocket. Maybe they could get him out of this. If he could just find a way to get his mom free--

"Ah, the pearls," Hades' eyes flickered over to the boy's pocket, and it made his blood freeze. "Yes, my brother and his little tricks. Bring them forth, Percy Jackson." Against his will, Percy's hand reached into his pocket and brought out the four little pears.

"Only four," Hades raised an eyebrow. "What a shame. You do realize each only protects a single person. Try to take your mother, then, little godling. And which of your friends will you leave behind to spend eternity with me? Go on. Choose. Or give me the backpack and accept my terms."

He turned back to his friends, watching their pale faces turn grim. There was no possible way to decide. Grover, his best and first friend. The one who's always provided a sense of comfort to Percy when comfort was stolen. Grover was his protecter, his most loyal of confidants. Then there was Annabeth, the strategist and the strong. Annabeth who had gone out of her way to aid him on a quest her survive wasn't guaranteed for. She'd saved his life before with her wit and quickness, scheming plans he couldn't have made in his wildest dreams. Then Colette. The encourager of their misfit group. She'd driven him insane, left him awake at night wondering about her and fought the urge to push her into the jaws of a monster. And yet he still found himself laughing at unfunny jokes and curious about the life she wanted to live. She didn't belong in a place so buried with misery. She was alive. So perfectly alive-in every aspect she was gleaming with light that fought to be lit and denied herself to be lost in the sorrow of the eternal graveyard they were in. she wasn't fit for an environment so vastly vacant-none of them were.

There was no way to pick.

"We were tricked," his voice was heavy and guilt ridden as he glanced between them. "Set up."

"Yes, but why?" Annabeth wondered, frowning as her eyes swelled with grey intensity. She couldn't understand why or how. "And the voice in the pit-"

Percy swallowed thickly, "I don't know yet," he shook his head, releasing a deep exhale. "But I intend to ask."

"Decide, boy!" Hades yelled.

"Percy." Grover put his hand on the demigod's shoulder. "You can't give him the bolt,"

"I know that."

"Leave me here," the satyr stated, and despite his trembling he still nodded surely. "Use the third pearl on your mom."

"No," Percy turned to glance at her as Colette intercepted. "I'll stay. Grover's your protector, Annie's your planner. You said it yourself, a live without love and friendship is a lonely life-if this a way out of that, that's okay with me." She was nodding surely despite her paleness.

Grover shook his head, "No!" He leaned toward her with a stern gaze. "I'm a satyr," Grover said. "We don't have souls like humans do. He can torture me until I die, but he won't get me forever. I'll just be reincarnated as a flower or something. It's the best way." He tried to explain despite their looks of disbelief.

"No." Annabeth intervened. "You three go on. Grover, you have to protect Percy. You have to get your searcher's license and start your quest for Pan. Collie, you need to become a hunter, it's what you've always wanted. Get his mom out of here. I'll cover you. I plan to go down fighting."

"No way." Grover refused persistently, "I'm staying behind."

"Think again, Goat boy." Colette scowled faintly.

"Annabeth delved between the two, "what makes you think I'd let you stay here either, Bambi."

"Stop it, all of you!" There was a pained sense of guilt ripping through Percy's heart. They had all been with him through so much. He remembered Grover dive-bombing Medusa in the statue garden, and Annabeth's bravery when the furies attacked on the bus, and the fall he and Colette had taken together back at the arch; they'd survived Hephaestus's Waterland ride, the St. Louis Arch, the Lotus Casino. Percy had spent thousands of miles worried that at some point he'd be betrayed by a friend, but these friends would never do that. They had done nothing but save him, over and over, and now they wanted to sacrifice their lives for his mom.

"I know what to do," Percy said surely. "Take these." He passed a Pearl to the girls and Grover.

Annabeth frowned, "But, Percy ..."

"He turned to face his mother, ambition filling his face and masking his sadness. He desperately wanted to sacrifice himself and use the last pearl on her, but he knew what she would say. She would never allow it. He had to get the bolt back to Olympus and tell Zeus the truth. He had to stop the war. She would never forgive him if he saved her instead. He thought about the prophecy made at Half-Blood Hill, what seemed like a million years ago. You will fail to save what matters most in the end.

"I'm sorry," Percy's voice was genuine and loving as he looked towards the older woman. "I'll be back. I'll find a way."

Hades' look of undefeated smugness grew weary until he became unsure. He sat up in his chair and called out though Percy seemed to be elsewhere, "Godling ... ?"

"I'll find your helm, Uncle," Percy said in promise. "I'll return it. Remember about Charon's pay raise."

"Do not defy me-"

"Oh! and Hades, sir, it wouldn't hurt to play with Cerberus once in a while." Percy raised his eyebrows at Colette. From a girl who would shiver at the thought of insulting a god. "He likes red rubber balls."

"Percy Jackson, you will not-"

"Interjecting his uncle's yell, Percy let out an order, "Now!"

For a tense moment after the four of them smashed the glass spheres onto the floor, nothing happened. Hades yelled, "Destroy them!" The army of skeletons rushed forward, swords out, guns clicking to full automatic. The Furies lunged, their whips bursting into flame. Just as the skeletons opened fire, the pearl fragments at their feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. The four were encased in milky white spheres, which was starting to float off the ground.
Spears and bullets sparked harmlessly off the pearl bubbles as they floated up. Hades yelled with such rage, the entire fortress shook and Percy knew it was not going to be a peaceful night in L.A.

"Look up.'" Grover shrieked, covering his head as though it would prevent him from crashing. "We're going to crash!" To their horror, the spheres were travelling up into the stalactites which would no doubt fracture the bubbles and impale them or let them fall back to their death.

"How the fuck do we stop them?!" Colette sat up in the sphere, her voice slightly muffled by the invisible barriers that protected them all.

Before anybody could reply, they were encaged by the stalactites and passing through. There was darkness, swallowing and thick as it surrounded them. They were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water. That was the power of the pearls, Percy realised-What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea.

For a few moments, they couldn't see anything outside the smooth walls of the sphere, then their pearls broke through on the ocean floor. Percy's first then the three other milky spheres, Annabeth, Colette and Grover. They exploded on the surface, in the middle of the Santa Monica bay, knocking a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"

Colette let out a gasp as she collapsed into the water, her arm being tugged by Percy who guarded the three of them on a buoy. There was a shark in the nearby waters, circling them hungrily before Percy sneered at it, "Beat it." Like an alley cat, the shark darted off.

"I told you there's sharks around here, Jackson!" Colette let out a sound like a laugh as she clung onto the buoy.

He shook his head at her, "Shut up, Archer."

"Oh gods." The four turned to look into the Los Angeles skyline. It was early in the morning of the summer solstice and in the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, and it was Hades's fault. He was probably sending an army of the dead after them in that moment. But in that moment, the underworld wasn't their biggest problem.

They had to get to the shore and save Olympus. To save the world from catastrophe. And most of all, to have a serious conversation with the god who'd tricked them.