The Fate of Olympus | Reynabeth [✓]

22. Eric J. Kaiser, Alchemist

A/N: Thank you for all your lovely comments on this fanfiction! I'm really excited about this chapter. 

Chemical structure of artemisinin created by Lukáš Mižoch for Wikimedia Commons. 

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As they were leaving Boston, a small building nestled in an out-of-place natural scenic splendor caught Annabeth's eye. Reyna didn't notice, but Annabeth did.

It was a science laboratory nestled in a thicket of woods. It looked like a dense deciduous forest, except the forest spanned the length of only twenty paces.

"It's another red brick building like all the other red brick buildings," said Reyna with certainty. "Why do you care about it? Does it look like it was constructed by an architect you love? Or possibly hate, I don't know. You seem to like neoclassical architecture..."

"It's a business building made of stucco," said Annabeth. "I don't see it as a brick building. At least, not at first. But I saw it change out of the corner of my eye."

"Oh." Reyna stared intently at the building. She snapped her fingers. "Okay."

"Can you see what I see?"

"No." Reyna frowned. "Hey, remember Nerio, the goddess of valor? She said the Mist warps according to your preconceived notions. Oh my gods, Annabeth, you don't have preconceived notions because you don't remember anything except for how to see through the Mist."

"That's very insightful, Reyna," said Annabeth. "Hopefully my ignorance will help us in this situation. I have a very strong feeling that we're supposed to go into that building..."

"Yeah," said Reyna. "I feel it too. Like the feeling I had when we went to Sappho's poetry club bar. Except this building looks so...boring."

"Boring is good," said Annabeth. "Maybe we'll find something interesting."

Annabeth and Reyna walked to the entrance. The front door was a Norman door with a vertical bar for a handle. Annabeth, naturally, pulled on it. The door frame shuddered.

Then she saw the sign that said PUSH. She pushed and the door opened. It was the wrong way for an external door. If this were Manhattan, the fire brigade would have something to say, and it would probably be about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory. Well. Maybe not, thought Annabeth. In that situation, the problem hadn't been inward-swinging doors. 

Annabeth held the door for Reyna and followed her into the building.

It looked like it was constructed as a boring business building sometime in the 1980s, with sensible gray industrial carpeting and off-white square walls. There was very little architectural flair. It was a practical building. Well, except for the Norman door.

At the far end of the empty waiting room, there was an extremely narrow hallway that led to a four-step stairway, then the hallway continued. It wasn't very practical or wheelchair accessible. If the building had been nestled on a hill it would have at least made sense.

An off-white sign set in Helvetica Neue hung next to the hall entrance. A left arrow indicated a word that Annabeth guessed was CONFERENCE because the building looked business-y. A right arrow said LAB. 

Soft music played in the waiting room. Reyna adjusted the bag so it hung on her left shoulder instead of her right.

There was a weird old painting of Hermes, except he looked slightly different...

"Hold on, just a minute!" a German-accented voice called out from the end of the hall. "The last tour ran a little long..."

His accent, combined with the Norman door, immediately made Annabeth tense. In Maine, they had been attacked by a Frenchman. As soon as he stepped into the front room, Annabeth relaxed. It was a mortal man with a bushy, wild beard and tiny glasses. He had a huge smile. Annabeth knew he was a mortal because he...well, he didn't have any kind of supernatural aura. Even Sappho had an aura of power.