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

11 - We Battle with Our Jerk Relative

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but they were too busy to keep us for long, or to wonder how three kids in street clothes had gotten out into the middle of the bay. There was a disaster to mop up. Their radios were jammed with distress calls.

They dropped us off at the Santa Monica Pier with towels around our shoulders and water bottles that said I'M A JUNIOR COAST GUARD! and sped off to save more people.

Our clothes were sopping wet, even Percy's. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, he'd prayed they wouldn't pick him out of the water and find me perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So, he'd willed myself to get soaked. Sure enough, his usual waterproof magic had abandoned him. He was also barefoot, because he'd given his shoes to Grover. Better the Coast Guard wonder why one of us was barefoot than wonder why one of us had hooves.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth said. "We went all that way-"

"It was a trick," Percy said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Hey," she warned.

"You get it, don't you?"

She dropped her eyes, her anger fading. "Yeah. I get it."

"Well, I don't!" Grover complained. "Would somebody-"

"Percy ..." Annabeth said. "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry...."

"The prophecy was right," he said. "'You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' But it wasn't Hades. Hades didn't want war among the Big Three. Someone else pulled off the theft. Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades' helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And I'll have caused it."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach. "Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid, spunky," Ares said, seeming genuinely pleased to see Percy and I. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked us," I growled. "You stole the helm and the master bolt."

Ares grinned. "Well, now, I didn't steal them personally. Gods taking each other's symbols of power, that's a big no-no. But you're not the only hero in the world who can run errands."

"Who did you use? Clarisse? Aaron? They were there at the winter solstice." I asked.

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, spunky, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've got to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus will be mad at him and kill, spunky, which will make Hades mad. And he's still looking for this ..."

From his pocket he took out a ski cap-the kind bank robber wear-and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into an elaborate bronze war helmet.

"The helm of darkness," I gasped.

"Exactly," Ares said. "Now, where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon, because he doesn't know who took this and of course he'll be pissed if you're dead, girl. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three – way slugfest going."