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Chapter 39
A Warning from The Gods
Volume 4: The Battle of
the Labyrinth
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The spider led them to a large metal door. It was banging its head against it, and Pat cringed at the sound. Pallas said, "Eta," and Pat heard him touch the door, "We are here."
"Ready to meet Hephaestus?" Grover said nervously.
"No." Percy said.
"Yes!" Tyson said gleefully, and he turned the wheel of the door that functioned as it's doorknob. With loud creaks, it opened, and the spider scuttled inside. Tyson rushed after it. The rest of them were not quite as anxious.
Even without the sight of the forge, Pat could tell how massive it was. He heard hydraulic presses and car engines, metal banging against each other, floors upon floors on inventions. The forge burned; it was at least four times hotter than the summer that Pat's AC broke when he was nine. Even the heat seemed to have a sound.
The banging stopped, and a deep voice boomed, "Well, well, what have we here?"
Hephaestus smelt like oil and grime. His leg creaked and clicked in its metal brace as he stood, and he disassembled the spider and put it back together in two seconds.
"There," he muttered to himself. "Much better." With that addressed, Hephaestus turned on them, "I didn't make you, did I?"
"Uh," Annabeth said, "no, sir."
"Good," the god grumbled. "Shoddy workmanship." After a moment of observation, he grunted, "Half-bloods. Could be automatons, of course, but probably not."
"We've met, sir," Percy told him.
"Have we?" the god asked absently. "Well then, if I didn't smash you to a pulp the first time we met, I suppose I won't have to do it now."
With a frown, Hephaestus commented on the monsters in their group. "Satyr. Well, a Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing travelling with this lot?"
"Uh..." said Tyson, mostly in wonder of the god.
"Yes, well said," Hephaestus agreed. "So, there'd better be a good reason you're disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know."
"Sir," Annabeth said hesitantly, "we're looking for Daedalus. We thought—"
"Daedalus?" the god roared. "You want that old scoundrel? You dare to seek him out!" There was a loud and hot burst of flames somewhere near them.
"Uh, yes, sir, please," Annabeth said.
"Humph. You're wasting your time." He frowned and limped away, his uneven steps echoing on the grated floor. With only a few seconds, he created another invention. His tinkering reminded Pat of the time he got in trouble for banging his rings on his desk to the tune of Sweet Caroline in his Algebra II class.
Tyson laughed and clapped his hands at Hephaestus' talents. Hephaestus regarded him, "I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops."
Tyson's smile faded. "Y-yes, lord. We met a Hundred-handed One."
Hephaestus nodded. He sounded unsurprised. "Briares?"
"Yes. He–he was scared. He would not help us."
YOU ARE READING
Prophesied Powder, PJO
Fanfiction(Atropos cuts the threads of Human Fate.) Pat was destined for something great. Apollo himself had said it. The only issue is, no one knows what he's meant to do or how he's involved in the so-called Great Prophecy. Percy is the only son of Posideon...
