Daughter Of Lightning - Book 1(Percy Jackson x OC fanfic)

CHAPTER 29

(Ella's POV)

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA Recording Studios. Stenciled on the glass doors: No Solicitors. No Loitering. NO Living. It was almost midnight, but the lobby was bright & full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses & an earpiece.

Percy turns to us. "You remember the plan?"

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love it."

Annie said, "What if the plan doesn’t work?"

"Don’t think negative." I told her.

"Right," she said. "We’re entering the Land of the Dead, & I shouldn’t think negative."

I put my hand on Percy's shoulder.

"I’m sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine." Annie said. I nudged Grover.

"Oh, yeah!" he said. "We got this far. We'll find the bolt & save your mom. No problem."

Percy gave me a grateful look & said. "Let’s whup some Underworld butt."

We walked inside the DOA lobby. Music played softly on the speakers. The carpet & walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. But I could see through their bodies. The security guard’s desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

He was tall & elegant, with chocolate skin & bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades & a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

Percy read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?"

He leaned across the desk.

"What a precious young lad." He had a sort of accent-British, maybe. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy said.

He pinched the name tag & ran his finger under the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R-O-N. Say: CARE-ON."

"Charon." Percy repeated.

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon."

"Mr. Charon," I was trying hard not to laugh.

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

Percy looked at me. "We need to go to the Underworld," I said.

Charon’s mouth twitched. "Well, that’s refreshing."

"It is?" Annie asked.

"Straightforward & honest. No screaming. No 'This must be a mistake, Mr. Charon'. How did you die, then?" I nudged Grover.

"Oh," he said. "Um...drowned...in the bathtub."

"All three of you?" Charon asked. We nodded.

"Big bathtub." He looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last bill. But with children alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."