❝In a fight, they're lethal. Around each other, they melt❞
"I'm fine." I said, trying to hide the frown and tears that threatened to spill.
Percy looked at me once.
"I'm not going anywhere, unless you tell me what's wrong," he declared and I would h...
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By the time Percy got back, a whole ass barbecue was set up.
The deck was set up for a party. Streamers and balloons decorated the railing. Geryon was flipping burgers on a huge barbecue cooker made from an oil drum. Eurytion lounged at a picnic table, picking his fingernails with a knife. The two-headed dog sniffed the ribs and burgers that were frying on the grill.
Annabeth, Tyson, Grover, Nico and Caelan were tossed in a corner, tied up like rodeo animals, with their ankles and wrists roped together and their mouths gagged. Geryon had tried that on me and realized the ropes would slide down since I couldn't move my wrist. He had my good wrist tied up to one of the deck support beams and I was gagged. I had been stripped of my weapon jewelry and they had been placed next to the barbecue, on the table where Eurytion sat. Sadly, I was seated on the ground right next to him. Just out of reach of my weapons. It was taunting.
"Let them go!" Percy yelled breathlessly. "I cleaned the stables!"
Geryon turned. He wore an apron on each chest, with one word on each, so together they spelled out: KISS—THE—CHEF. "Did you, now? How'd you manage it?"
Percy seemed impatient but he told him.
He nodded appreciatively. "Very ingenious. It would've been better if you'd poisoned that pesky naiad, but no matter."
"Let my friends go," Percy said. "We had a deal."
"Ah, I've been thinking about that. The problem is, if I let them go, I don't get paid."
"You promised!"
Geryon made a tsk-tsk noise. "But did you make me swear on the River Styx? No you didn't. So it's not binding. When you're conducting business, sonny, you should always get a binding oath."
Percy drew his sword. Orthus growled. One head leaned down next to Grover's ear and bared its fangs.
"Eurytion," Geryon said, "the boy is starting to annoy me. Kill him."
Eurytion studied him.
"Kill him yourself," Eurytion said.
Geryon raised his eyebrows. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me," Eurytion grumbled. "You keep sending me out to do your dirty work. You pick fights for no good reason, and I'm getting tired of dying for you. You want to fight the kid, do it yourself."
It was the most un-Areslike thing I'd ever heard a son of Ares say.
Geryon threw down his spatula. "You dare defy me? I should fire you right now!"
"And who'd take care of your cattle? Orthus, heel."
The dog immediately stopped growling at Grover and came to sit by the cowherd's feet, right next to me. One of his heads reached down and sniffed my ear.
