PLEASE READ THE REWRITE INSTEAD OF THIS. THIS IS ONLY UP UNTIL THE REWRITE IS COMPLETED. PLEASE READ THE REWRITE TO PREVENT LOSING THE BOOK BEFORE YOU'RE DONE.
Veronica Westcourt didn't like Camp Half-Blood. She didn't like the fact that she hadn't...
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𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓻 7: 𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓸𝓷𝓲𝓬𝓪 𝓖𝓮𝓽𝓼 𝓪𝓷 𝓔𝔁𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓿𝓮 𝓚𝓲𝓼𝓼
Veronica was sure they'd lost the spider until Tyson heard a faint pinging sound. The group had to make a few turns, and they backtracked a few times, but they eventually found the spider banging its tiny head on a metal door.
The door looked like one of those old-fashioned submarine hatches. It was oval shaped, with metal rivets around the edges and a wheel for a doorknob. Where the portal should've been was a big brass plaque. It was green with age, with a Greek Ȇta inscribed in the middle.
The group exchanged eye contact.
"Ready to meet Hephaestus?" Grover asked, sounding a bit nervous.
"No," Percy admitted.
"I'm just waiting for a chance to keep my promise," Veronica said, glaring at Annabeth.
"Yes!" Tyson said gleefully, and he turned the wheel.
As soon as the door opened, the spider scuttled inside with Tyson right behind it. The rest of the group followed, not quite as anxious.
The room was enormous. It looked like a mechanic's garage, with several hydraulic lifts. Some had cars on them, but others had stranger things: a bronze hippalektryon with its horse head off and a bunch of wires hanging out its rooster tail, a metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a battery charger, and a Greek war chariot made entirely of flames.
Veronica noticed that smaller projects were cluttered a dozen worktables. Tools hung along the walls. Each had its own outline on a Peg-Board, but nothing seemed to be in the right place.
The hammer was over the screwdriver place. The staple gun was where the hacksaw was supposed to go. Under the nearest hydraulic lift, which was holding a '98 Toyota Corolla, a pair of legs stuck out—the lower half of a huge man in grubby gray pants and shoes even bigger than Tyson's. One leg was in a metal brace.
The spider scuttled straight under the car, and the sounds of banging stopped.
"Well, well," a deep voice boomed from under the Corolla. "What have we here?"
The mechanic pushed out on a back trolley and sat up. Veronica had seen Hephaestus twice before, both times being on Olympus, so she thought she'd be used to him.
Apparently, he'd cleaned up when she'd seen him on Olympus, or used magic to make his form seem a little less hideous. Here in his own workshop, he apparently didn't care how he looked, which Veronica respected just a little.
He apparently liked to work in a jumpsuit smeared with oil and grime. Hephaestus was messily embroidered over the chest pocket. His leg creaked and clicked in its metal brace as he stood, and his left shoulder was lower than his right, so he seemed to be leaning even when he was standing up straight. His head was misshapen and bulging. He wore a permanent scowl. His black beard smoked and hissed. Every once in a while a small wildfire would erupt in his whiskers then die out. His hands were the size of catcher's mitts, but he handled the spider with amazing skill. He disassembled it in two seconds, then put it back together.
