'•' The Lightning Thief '•'

20 :: Earthshaker

Published: August 26, 2021
Edited: July 20, 2022
~✰~

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 mine and Percy's. When the Coast Guard boat had appeared, I'd silently prayed they wouldn't pick us out of the water and find us perfectly dry, which might've raised some eyebrows. So I'd willed myself to get soaked.

Sure enough, my usual waterproof magic had abandoned me. Percy 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 felt as if I'd just come back from the dead —which I had.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth snarled, stamping her foot. "We went all that way—" 

"It was a trick," Percy dug his heel into the sand. 

"A strategy worthy of Athena." I agreed.

"Hey," Annabeth warned.

"You get it, don't you?" I questioned.

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

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

"Percy..." Annabeth whispered, "I'm sorry about your mother. I'm so sorry....'Dia I know you wanted to meet her..."

I pretended not to hear her. 

"The prophecy was right," Percy lamented. "'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's helm, and framed Neridia and I because we're Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, there will be a three-way war. And we'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," Ares chuckled, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

"You tricked us," I accused, "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? She was there at the winter solstice." Annabeth asked angrily. But I had a sinking feeling it wasn't Clarisse.

The idea seemed to amuse him. "Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, 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 twins. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this..."

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