Hellfire

02: Death on Olympus

TWO

 

            Frankly, Percy was having a hard time understanding why the gods found it so hard to not break the oaths they made. Why did they make these oaths if they knew they wouldn’t be able to keep them? First, the Big Three (Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades) had vowed never to have any more children because their offspring were too powerful to be deemed safe. Despite that oath, however, Percy, Jason, Hazel, Thalia Grace, and Nico di Angelo were all alive. What a shocker, right?

            The latest broken oath of the gods was that they would never again call the Seven forward for some great quest that would save the world from another new enemy rising from the depths of Tartarus. But, here they all were in the throne room of the gods on Mount Olympus. Percy decided that he shouldn’t trust the gods’ promises and oaths anymore – it never ended well for him or his friends.

            Annabeth stepped on his toes for the third time, hissing, “Stop glaring.”

            But Percy couldn’t help it. His arms were crossed across his chest, and he was glaring at the floor. The throne room was icily silent, and the tension felt so thick that Percy didn’t think even Celestial bronze could cut through it. When he cast a sideways glance at his friends, he saw Piper glaring, too.

            Percy and his friends were standing in front of the gods in silence. The gods didn’t say anything, either, and they wouldn’t look at each other or at Percy and his friends. He realized suddenly that it was because they were waiting for a few others: Hermes and Hera. Percy assumed Hades would also be joining them because of the darker, smaller throne beside Demeter’s that was smoking slightly. She kept giving it distasteful looks, as though hoping it would just disappear.

            The doors swung open behind Percy and the others. A long line of satyrs filed in, accompanying Hera and Hermes.

            Only they didn’t look like Hera and Hermes. All Percy saw was an elderly man and woman hobbling along and looking as though each step was causing them immeasurable pain. Zeus rose from his throne and strode past the Seven, gripping the arms of the woman and leading her to the throne beside his. When they passed Percy, he caught a few words of what Zeus was whispering in her ear: “Slowly… you’ll feel better once… that’s it, dear…”

            Aside from wondering when Zeus ever called Hera dear, Percy couldn’t fathom why Hera and Hermes looked like a couple of old hags. Artemis and Apollo stood to help Hermes into his throne beside Dionysus, who – to Percy’s immense surprise – had a glass of wine in his hand. He patted Hermes on the shoulder gently when the messenger god eased into his throne.

            “What’s going on?” Percy said at last. “Why are we here?”

            “As you can see,” Zeus said gruffly, sitting in his own throne. Percy saw Jason’s eyebrows lift when Zeus kept a hand on Hera’s wrinkled arm. “We are dying.”

            There was a beat of silence after his words, during which Percy’s face flushed a bright red. Leo spoke before Percy could. “Is this some kind of joke? You're gods. You don’t die; you can't. That’s the whole point!” he griped.

            Poseidon spread his hands. “Well, clearly, that point no longer matters,” he said. “At first, we thought it was one of us playing a trick on Hermes when he caught the cold. But then, Hera got the chicken pox. Slowly, they both contracted every mortal disease known to man.”

            “Even the deadly ones?” Annabeth asked. “Like, the plague and small pox?”

            “Even those,” Apollo agreed. “They're dying, and no cure ever invented by the gods or Titans or giants is helping them.”