Helle // Apollo x oc

Part 23

Tuulis POV

We stood in the shadows of Valencia Boulevard, looking up at gold letters etched in black marble: DOA RECORDING STUDIOS.

Underneath, stencilled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

My bad??

It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.

Percy turned to us, "Okay. You remember the plan."

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

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negatively."

"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negatively."

Now you might ask; What's the plan?

Well I would tell you if I knew.... Gods I really need to start paying attention..

Percy took the pearls out of his pocket. Annabeth put her hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."

"Yeah exactly!" I say and nudge Grover.

"Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

Percy looked at us and for a moment and then put the pearls back into his pocket. "Let's whoop some Underworld butt!"

_______________________

PERCY'S POV

We walked inside the DOA lobby.

Music played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel grey. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. 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. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see them all just fine, but if I focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking...transparent. I could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so we had to look up at him.

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

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

He leaned across the desk. I couldn't see anything in his glasses except my own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent—British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. His accent reminds me of Tuuli. She sounds British but knowing thats not her first language I pay attention to her accent sounding a bit off. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no."

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," I said. Tuuli was next to me trying to hold her laugh.

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

"Charon."