The Helm of Darkness - A Percy Jackson and The Lightning Thief Fanfiction

7 - A Tendon Gets Stuck in My Teeth

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," I said.

Ares gave me a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled black-smith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

"Don't talk about Lord Hephaestus like that. He's a better god than you'll ever be!" I said coldly, he glared at me and I narrowed my eyes.

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath.

Ares grabbed the shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?"

He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner.

"That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back: KINDNESS INTER-NATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

I said, "You're kidding."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched.

"Free ride west, punk. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slung a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy. Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuff Oreos.

I said, "I don't want your lousy-"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving me his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

I gritted my teeth. It was a deadly insult to refuse something from a god, but I didn't want anything that Ares had touched.

I knew my anger was being caused by the war god's presence, but I was still itching to punch him in the nose. He reminded me of every bully I'd ever faced: Clarisse, Mikael, sarcastic teachers – every jerk who'd called me a terrorist or to go back home or laughed at me when I'd gotten expelled.

I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid Ares might hurt us.

She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.

Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow. I imagined the headline: TWELVE-YEAR-OLD OUTLAW AND TERRORIST GIRL BEATS UP DEFENSELESS BIKER.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep my voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else."

"Nobody's controlling me."

He laughed. "Oh yeah? See you around, kid."

I balled up my fists. "You're pretty smug, Lord Ares, for a guy who runs from Cupid statues."