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It was Annabeth's idea.
She shoved Marlowe in the front seat and loaded the boys into the back of a Vegas taxi as if they actually had money, and told the driver, "Los Angeles, please."
The cabbie chewed his cigar and sized the kids up. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay up front."
"You accept casino debit cards?" Marlowe asked as if she didn't know the answer.
He shrugged. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."
Marlowe reached into her back pocket and handed him her green LotusCash card.
He looked at it skeptically.
"Swipe it," Marlowe invited, an innocent smile on her face.
He did.
His meter machine started rattling. The lights flashed. Finally an infinity symbol came up next to the dollar sign.
The cigar fell out of the driver's mouth. He looked back at the four, his eyes wide. "Where to in Los Angeles...uh, Your Highness?"
Marlowe turned around in the seat with a wide smile. She looked at each of her friends: Annabeth gave her a knowing smirk, Percy rolled his eyes, knowing that she liked the title she was given, and Grover had to put a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.
"The Santa Monica Pier," Marlowe said, sitting higher in her seat. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."
Maybe she shouldn't have told him that. The cab's speedometer never dipped below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert.
On the road, they had plenty of time to talk. Percy told his friends about his latest dream, but the details got sketchier the more he tried to remember them. The servant had called the monster in the pit something other than "my lord"... some special name or title...
"The Silent One?" Annabeth suggested. "The Rich One? Both of those are nicknames for Hades."
"Maybe..." Percy said, though neither sounded quite right. He glanced at Marlowe for help, thinking that maybe she could shed some light into what was going on.
"That throne room sounds like Hades's," Grover said. "That's the way it's usually described."
Percy shook his head. "Something's wrong. The throne room wasn't the main part of the dream. And that voice from the pit...I don't know. It just didn't feel like a god's voice."
Annabeth's eyes widened.
"What?" Percy asked.
"Oh...nothing. I was just— No, it has to be Hades. Maybe he sent this thief, this invisible person, to get the master bolt, and something went wrong—"
"Annabeth," Marlowe deadpanned, giving the girl a look that told her to trust her gut. She was going down the right path, but didn't believe it because she didn't want it to be true.
