Heliophile - Apollo

1.18| Percy And Ana Insult The Gods

It's funny how humans can wrap their minds around things and fit them into their version of reality. Chiron had told us that long ago. As usual, we didn't appreciate his wisdom until much later.

According to the L.A. news, the explosion at the Santa Monica beach had been caused when a crazy kidnapper fired a shotgun at a police car. He accidentally hit a gas main that had ruptured during the earthquake.

This crazy kidnapper (a.k.a. Ares) was the same man who had abducted Percy and three other adolescents in New York and brought them across country on a ten-day odyssey of terror.

Poor little Percy Jackson wasn't an international criminal after all. He'd caused a commotion on that Greyhound bus in New Jersey trying to get away from his captor (and afterward, witnesses would even swear they had seen the leather-clad man on the bus—"Why didn't I remember him before?").

The crazy man had caused the explosion in the St. Louis Arch. After all, no kid could've done that. A concerned waitress in Denver had seen the man threatening his abductees outside her diner, gotten a friend to take a photo, and notified the police.

Finally, brave Percy Jackson (Percy was beginning to like this kid) had stolen a gun from his captor in Los Angeles and battled him shotgun-to-rifle on the beach. Police had arrived just in time. But in the spectacu-lar explosion, five police cars had been destroyed and the captor had fled.

No fatalities had occurred. Percy Jackson and his three friends were safely in police custody. The reporters fed them this whole story. All four demigods just nodded and acted tearful and exhausted (which wasn't hard), and played victimized kids for the cameras.

"All I want," Percy said, choking back my tears and bile, "is to see my loving stepfather again. Every time I saw him on TV, calling me a delinquent punk, I knew ... somehow ... we would be okay. And I know he'll want to reward each and every person in this beautiful city of Los Angeles with a free major appliance from his
store. Here's the phone number." The police and reporters were so moved that they passed around the hat and raised money for four tickets on the next plane to New York.

Percy knew there was no choice but to fly. He hoped Zeus would cut them some slack, considering the circumstances. But it was still hard to force himself on board the flight.

Takeoff was a nightmare. Every spot of turbulence was scarier than a Greek monster. Percy didn't unclench his hands from the armrests until they touched down safely at La Guardia.

The local press was waiting for them outside security, but they managed to evade them thanks to Ana, who lured them away with magical doubles that would disappear after about ten minutes.

They split up at the taxi stand. Percy told Luke and Grover to get back to Half-Blood Hill and let Chiron know what had happened while he and Ana went to Olympus. Percy figured that if the gods didn't believe them that Ana was pretty good back up to have plus she wanted to see Apollo.

The two hopped in a taxi and headed into Manhattan. Thirty minutes later, they walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building. They must have looked like homeless kids, with their tattered clothes and their scraped-up face. They hadn't slept in at least twenty-four hours.

Percy went up to the guard at the front desk and said, "Six hundredth floor." He was reading a huge book with a picture of a wizard on the front. Percy wasn't much into fantasy, but the book must've been good, because the guard took a while to look up. "No such floor, kiddo."

"We need an audience with Zeus."

He gave them a vacant smile. "Sorry?"

"You heard me."

Percy was about to decide this guy was just a regular mortal, and they'd better run for it before he called the straitjacket patrol, when he said, "No appointment, no audience, kiddo. Lord Zeus doesn't see anyone unannounced."