The Lightning Theif

Chapter 23

"You know," Clarisse mumbled, "I bet Hades doesn't have trouble with door-to-door salesmen."

My backpack suddenly weighed a ton and I grinned.

"Hey, hold on, I need to check something," I said as I removed Ares' backpack. I opened it and reached inside, pulling out a miniature golden bolt. As I removed it, it grew larger until it was its full size, electricity emitting from it.

"Is that?" Clarisse asked.

"The Master Bolt," Annabeth replied, holding her breath. "We had it the whole time?"

"No, Ares did. He just gave it to us. I assume he wanted to have it appear near Hades so that he would have kept us here or killed us, starting the war."

"My father really is a bastard," Clarisse muttered. I put the bolt back and closed the bag.

"Let's go. I need to ask my dad something," I said, slinging the backpack on again and heading to the door. A hot wind blew down the corridor, and the doors swung open. The guards stepped aside.

"I guess that means 'entrez-vous,'" Annabeth said.

The room inside looked just like in my dream, except this time the throne of Hades was occupied. He was the third God I had met, but the first who really struck me as godlike.

He was at least ten feet tall, dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. His skin was albino white, his hair shoulder-length and jet black. He wasn't bulked up like Ares, but he radiated power. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

Hades's aura was affecting me, just as Ares's had. The Lord of the Dead resembled pictures I had seen of Adolph Hitler, or Napoleon, or the terrorist leaders who direct suicide bombers. Hades had the same intense eyes, the same kind of mesmerizing, evil charisma.

"You are brave to come here, Son," he said in an oily voice. "After what you have done to me, very brave indeed. Or perhaps you are simply very foolish."

I stepped forward. I knew what I had to say. "Lord and Father, I come with two requests."

Hades raised an eyebrow. When he sat forward in his throne, shadowy faces appeared in the folds of his black robes, faces of torment, as if the garment were stitched of trapped souls from the Fields of Punishment, trying to get out.

"Only two requests?" Hades said. "Arrogant child. As if you have not already taken enough. Speak, then. It amuses me not to strike you dead yet."

I glanced at the empty, smaller throne next to Hades. It was shaped like a black flower, gilded with gold. It was summer. Of course, Persephone would be above in the world of light with her mother, the goddess of agriculture, Demeter. Her visits, not the tilt of the planet, create the seasons.

Annabeth cleared her throat. Her finger prodded me in the back.

"Father," I said. "I have long guessed the truth of what happened. A thief has stolen your helm during the Solstice, and I know who did it and what God currently has your Helm."

"Tell me, then, who stole my helmet?"

"Luke Castellan, Son of Hermes, stole your Helm and the bolt. Ares caught him and was tricked, and he gave us the bolt, and he currently still has your Helm." Annabeth looked at me in confusion and rage at the accusation.

"Swear it," Hades ordered.

"I swear the Styx on what I said is true," I said. Thunder boomed above, and when nothing happened, Hades seemed to relax, and Annabeth crumbled. Clarisse just stood to the side chewing gum. Wait, where did she get gum?

"I see we were all tricked. But tell me, Son. Will you be able to get me my Helm back?"

"You'll have it back as soon as you allow us to leave to confront Ares, who should be at the beach any minute now."

"You are quite the unique demigod, son," Hades muttered. "I sense you have your... other father's pearls. You may crush them and leave."

Thanking him, I handed Annabeth and Clarisse a pearl. Before we stomped on the pearls Hades stopped us.

"Uh, son. I hate to ask but how is your mother? I could see true regret in his eyes. And after everything he has done to help us.

"She is doing well, father. She had got a good paying job and she got married and I now have a little sister, and do not worry. She has long forgiven you for what happened and you are always welcome to visit."

"I see," Hades muttered, he looked as if the weight of the world was taken off his shoulder. "Thank you, I won't keep you any longer."

I bowed to him before we all crushed the pearls beneath their feet. The pearl fragments at my feet exploded with a burst of green light and a gust of fresh sea wind. I was encased in a milky white sphere, which was starting to float off the ground. Annabeth and Clarisse were right behind me.

They exploded on the surface, in the middle of the Santa Monica Bay, knocking a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!"

I grabbed Clarisse and hauled her over to a life buoy. He caught Annabeth and dragged her over too. A curious shark was circling them, a great white about eleven feet long.

"Beat it." I growled. The shark turned and raced away. The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from them as fast as he could. Somehow, Percy knew what time it was: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

Grabbing the girls, I willed the water to blast them toward the shore, the wave carried them fast and they softly landed on the beach.

Though the god that was waiting for them was not the God of War, the god was a tall muscular man with long spiky orange hair. He wore a right shoulder guard and archery chest protector. His left arm has an ornate golden armband that covers his biceps. He also wore a lion fur kilt, a championship belt and simple leather sandals. He had a red tattoo of unknown design that went across his torso from his right shoulder to the lower left side of his abdomen. His eyes are vibrant blue that hold pure arrogance.

"Well, well, well, look you just arrived. My cousin and two bitches" Heracles spoke clearly pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die. Doesn't matter. The point is, kid, you're impeding the war effort. See, you've had to die in the Underworld. Then Old Seaweed will be mad at Hades for killing you. Corpse Breath will have Zeus's master bolt, so Zeus'll be mad at him. And Hades is still looking for this ..."

He pulled out a ski cap—the kind bank robbers wear—and placed it between the handlebars of his bike. Immediately, the cap transformed into a black greek helmet that oozed fear.

"The helm of Darkness," Clarisse gasped.

"Exactly," Heracles said. "Now where was I? Oh yeah, Hades will be mad at both Zeus and Poseidon because he doesn't know who took this. Pretty soon, we got a nice little three-way slugfest going."

"But they're your family!" Annabeth protested. Heracles shrugged.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Where is Ares, did the war god get scared?"

Heracles got a twitch in his jaw. "Please punk, you are not worthy of fighting Ares, so he sent me to come and kill you."

"So you are taking orders from, Ares?"

"I am the god of strength! I take orders from no one!"

I grinned, unfazed by his arrogance. "Wow, someone needs therapy."

Heracles looked agitated but tried to maintain his composure.

"Let's get back to the problem at hand, kid. You're alive. I can't have you taking that bolt to Olympus. You just might get those hard headed idiots to listen to you. So I've got to kill you. Nothing personal."

"I'll enjoy breaking you, demigod," Heracles sneered, his colossal club poised to strike. "Ares may have sent me here, but I'll relish this on my own."