Daughter of Poseidon

An Interesting Bath

My cell had no bars, no windows, not even a door. The un-dead guards shoved me straight through a wall, and it became solid behind me.

"Great." I thought, "This is cosy."

The walls were polished black obsidian. There was no furniture in the room, no bed, nothing - the room had been designed for the dead and I doubted that they did much sleeping. But I was so tired that I could pass out as I hadn't slept in about two days, since I'd ran away from the quest, and I was dead on my feet. Not to mention hungry, very hungry and thirsty. If they didn't give me any food or water, which I suspected they wouldn't, I could be dead within days. The heat of the Texan ranch where I had come from hadn't really helped, and my clothes were now very rumpled and crumpled, the t-shirt still bearing the Camp Half-blood logo and memories of camps that seemed eons ago. I was beginning to lose hope and sat on the cold, stone floor, staring unblinkingly at nothing.

I don't remember falling asleep, but I had been through a lot.

I dreamed I was at my step-dad's house in Virginia and he was watching the television. The house looked identical to the last time I'd seen it, naphtha lamps casting a soft glow against the heavy wallpapers; the carpet thick and soft. But Scott, my step-dad had changed. His brown hair was beginning to grey and lines were on his face where there hadn't been any before; his whole mentality seemed to be sadder and more worried than before. The TV suddenly flashed and a news reporter appeared on the screen:

"We interrupt our programming for a special bulletin. Scientists are puzzled by what appears to be a single cloud storm that spans much of Europe and Asia coming toward the United States. There are reports of high winds, rain and waves along the coastlines of several continents. So far, no victims, but countries are preparing for the worst."

"The gods are angry." Whispered Scott to the television and then he seemed to look straight at me. "Be careful, Anya. Your mother loved you, and I will always love you no matter what. I don't blame you."

I looked at him, confused. He had never said that to my face, and I thought he resented me for my mother's death - a freak car accident, most probably caused by a monster. It had been the reason I ran away and met Luke and Thalia, only to be dumped on his doorstep again a year later.

The scene shifted and I was on mount Olympus. The gods sat in war council and were arguing, again, but this time it seemed to be over me. Next to Zeus sat a beautiful woman with silver hair braided over one shoulder and a dress that shimmered colors like peacock feathers. The Lady Hera. On Zeus's right, my father Poseidon. Next to him, a huge lump of a man with a leg in a steel brace, a misshapen head, and a wild brown beard, fire flickering through his whiskers. The Lord of the Forges, Hephaestus. Hermes was wearing a business suit, checking messages on his caduceus mobile phone. Apollo leaned back in his golden throne with his shades on. He had iPod headphones on, so I wasn't sure he was even listening. Dionysus looked bored, twirling a grape vine between his fingers. And Ares, well, he sat on his chrome-and-leather throne, glowering while he sharpened a knife. On the ladies' side of the throne room, a dark-haired goddess in green robes sat next to Hera on a throne woven of apple-tree branches. Demeter, Goddess of the Harvest. Next to her sat a beautiful gray-eyed woman in an elegant white dress, Athena. Then there was Aphrodite in pink, flowing robes on a pretty throne made of flowers.

"I'll blast you off the face of the Earth!" Roared a man dressed in a pinstriped suit with dark, grey hair and stormy eyes. The air around him seemed to crackle with electricity and smelt strongly of ozone, Zeus.

"Brother!" Yelled a man dressed in Bermuda shorts and a shirt, Poseidon. "Omnipotence has blinded you. We are forbidden to steal the symbols of powers from each other."