A Son Love & Doves

Chapter 7 A Duo Take a Plunge

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We spent two days on the Amtrak train, heading west through hills, over rivers, past amber waves of grain.

We weren't attacked once, but I could tell Percy didn't relax. I wasn't sure exactly how he was feeling but I tried to ease his worries. Though doing that wasn't easy when someone can't understand you.

Percy tried to keep a low profile because his name and picture were splattered over the front pages of several East Coast newspapers. The Trenton Register-News showed a photo taken by a tourist as he got off the Greyhound bus. He had a wild look in my eyes, his sword was a metallic blur in his hands. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick, guess it depends how you looked at the picture. Though what offput me was the fact that I was in the background behind Percy.

I didn't bother reading the picture's caption. Whatever the mortals thought happened was due to the mist obscuring everything, and having their brains rationalize the events in whatever way was easiest. That and I didn't want to know what was being thought of me. It bothered me that my hair was its natural color in the picture.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told Percy. "Mortal police could never find us." But she didn't sound so sure.

The rest of the day as Percy either paced the length of the train or looked out the windows. I either sketched more in my sketch book or texted my siblings or mother. I also looked at magazines. Though the Italian woman that sat near us bothered me with her voice, stupid accents. I think Percy caught me throwing glares in her direction but didn't say anything.

Once, I looked up and spotted a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted for lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second-grader on a pony, caught Percy's eye and waved.

At some point I got to a comfortable point in my sketch of Thalia and asked Annabeth for her opinion. The hair needed to be shorter and a few more freckles. The nose needed to be less pointy.

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. We couldn't get berths in the sleeper car, so we dozed in our seats.

Grover kept snoring and bleating and waking Percy up. Once, he shuffled around and his fake foot fell off. Annabeth and Percy had to stick it back on before any of the other passengers noticed.

"So," Annabeth asked Percy, once they'd got Grover's trainer readjusted. "Who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, confused, and I was as well.

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

Percy seemed like he was reluctant to say anything. But it seemed like whatever it was about bothered him. Some evil voice over a pit wanting Percy to help him rise, was the short summary that I got.

Annabeth was quiet for a long time. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne, and he never laughs."

"He offered my mother in trade. Who else could do that?"

"I guess... if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"

I shook my head, despite their belief I still thought something was off about Hades being the bad guy. I mean the furies were looking for something on the bus, while we haven't been attacked in two days. I doubt Hades was truly after Percy. Annabeth and Grover should both realize that given they were once with someone that was being hunted by Hades, but whatever.