The Fleece Job (Olympus Drive Chronicles)

Chapter 21: It's a kind of magic

Reese

"Stop SINGING THAT," Than is standing in front of us, not at all amused, two seconds away from taking away my guitar. 

"Okay," I mumble.

"I thought it was a nice sort of song, Reese," Frankie says, self-righteously.

"Thank you, Frankie," I say, very proud.

"Why is your whole family like this???" We're in my Uncle Hector's castle in the Underworld. Of course we got caught. I've been doing Queen covers for the better part of an hour.

"I don't know. Probably genetic. Anyway how's tricks?" I ask Than. He's in his usual from of an awkward looking young adult and not herald of death like he was when he caught us. "Has anyone ever told you that you look like Junkook from BTS? Like you've got more cheekbones going on but—,"

"Shut up," Than sighs, putting a hand through his hair.

"Who is that?" Frankie asks.

"A singer named Junkook who is in a band called BTS who looks like him only less cheekbones," I tell her.

"Ah that makes perfect sense now. Thank you."

"I can sing you a song he does. K-pop isn't my forte—,"

"No you can't. Stop," Than says, pointing at us, "The only reason I haven't dropped you back on the surface  yet is the old man wants a word with you."

"The only reason you haven't deposited me on the surface yet is because you know I'd just come back," I say, proudly.

"That too," Than sighs, "Seriously though, Reese. This is idiotic."

"My dad actually tried to put that as my middle name. Idiotic. My mother had already filled out the paperwork though. Middle name is Orwell."

"Reese Orwell Calli?" Frankie asks.

"Yes. My initials are ROC. It's fantastic."

"That is fantastic."

"He'll see you now," Hyp says, slouching out of the office. He's wearing a fuzzy hoodie and fuzzy sweat pants. The hoodie has 'anytime is nap time' written on it in sequins.

"Just you, go," Than ushers me.

My uncle's office smells like the Target Candle section. There are loads of bookshelves, all neat, and artwork of human skulls. Very uplifting (not).

"You wanted to see me?" I ask, cheerfully, skipping in.

"Why are you doing this?" he asks, folding his arms. He's wearing an expensive black suit, a black shirt, and black silk tie, and black vest with black skulls on it. His black shoes are soft leather.

"I love her. More than anything ever. So I'm taking her home," I say, folding my arms. "I love her so much. I can't stand to be parted from her."

"This is the world's smallest Lyre playing for you and how much you love a dead girl," he says, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together.

"Please? Don't you believe in true love?"

"I believe in you being a pain my neck," he says, picking up his phone.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Calling your father. He needs to come and pick you up and prevent you from returning," he says.

"But—"

The phone is already ringing.

"Do you know where your son is right now?" my Uncle Hector asks.

"Yes he's at band camp—," there's hospital noises in the background.

"No. He's not. He's not. He's right here."

"That's impossible considering he's at band camp—,"

"He is not at band camp—,"

"Here I'll prove it to you. I'll put him on the call."

"No wait—he's right here--,"

My phone starts ringing, I pick up.

"Hey starshine what are you up to? How's band camp?" my dad asks.

"Hi dad things are great here at band camp love you we have trombone lessons soon you know how band camp is bye—,"

"Yeah, thanks, I'm just proving to your Uncle Hector you're at band camp and not with him—,"

"Oh wow yeah—,"

"He's not at band camp! He's right in front of me! You can hear the echo –,"

"That's impossible he's at band camp I have him on the phone from band camp—,"

"You have him on the phone from right here—,"

"He's on the phone from band camp he just said so, bye love you Reesy—,"

"Love you too dad I'm loving band camp bye."

"Bye love you---see Hector? He's at band camp."

"He is right in front of me!"

"That's impossible since he's at band camp and I just called him at band camp glad we cleared that up though bye I'm at work now—,"

"Do not hang up!"

He hangs up.

Uncle Hector stares at me with barely restrained rage.

"Is---was that an act?" he asks, voice low and menacing.

"Oh, no, that's how he is, he thinks I'm at band camp," I say.

"Never say the words band camp again in my presence."

"Got it."

"You're going home—,"

"But please—,"

"The answer is no. Go home Reese."

"But," I pucker up my face and let tears start running down my cheeks.

"No buts. Your----grandparent will be here to collect you shortly. For now you'll wait outside."

"But—,"

"Go."