Clotho - Percy Jackson

Charlotte and Percy Plunge to Their Death

Charlotte pov

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

They weren't attacked once, but she didn't relax. She felt that they were traveling around in a display case, being watched from above and maybe from below, that something was waiting for the right opportunity.

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 they got off the Greyhound bus. Percy had a wild look in his eyes. His sword was a metallic blur in his hand. It might've been a baseball bat or a lacrosse stick. His other hand clamped around hers, pulling her from the bus with a matching wild look.

The picture's caption read:

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning in the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from the bus, with an unknown girl, where he accosted several elderly female passengers. The bus exploded on an east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with three teenage accomplices. His stepfather, Gabe Ugliano, has offered a cash reward for information leading to his capture.

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

The rest of the day, she spent her time reading trying to get through all the information she could in her book, but it seemed like every time she turned to the last page more took its spot. Percy spent most of his time pacing the length of the train or looking out of the windows.

Once, he pointed to a family of centaurs galloping across a wheat field, bows at the ready, as they hunted lunch. The little boy centaur, who was the size of a second grader on a pony, caught their eye and waved. Charlotte looked around the passenger car, but nobody else had noticed. The adult riders all had their faces buried in laptops or magazines.

Another time, toward evening, she and Percy saw something huge moving through the woods. She could've sworn it was a lion, except that lions don't live wild in America, and this thing was the size of a Hummer. Its fur glinted gold in the evening light. Then it leaped through the trees and it was gone. They shared a long wide-eyed look.

🌙🔮🌙

Their reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver. They couldn't get berths in the sleeper care, so they dozed in their seats, Charlotte's head had dropped onto Percy's shoulder, her eyes so tired from reading, and was out.

"-wants you help?" Annabeth's voice from across the aisle woke her up. Charlotte picked her head off Percy's shoulder trying to work the stiffness out.

"What do you mean?" Percy asked, keeping his voice at a whisper.

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

Charlotte could feel his reluctance to say anything. "It's not... my mother is it?" she asked. He shook his head and after a moment he explained what he had seen.

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 as a 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?"