The Adventure That Lies Ahead | PJO x HP

CHAPTER 11

The war god was waiting for them in the diner parking lot.

"Well, well," he said. "You two didn't get yourself killed."

"You knew it was a trap," Isa said.

Ares gave her a wicked grin. "Bet that crippled blacksmith was surprised when he netted a couple of stupid kids. You looked good on TV."

Percy shoved his shield at him. "You're a jerk."

"An ass!" Isa hissed

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath.

"Now, now," Ares said. "Don't want your father hearing you talk that way, now do you, punk?"

Ares grabbed his shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back.

"See that truck over there?" He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one-stop to Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which Isa could read because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for Dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

Percy said, "You're kidding."

At the same time, Isa said, "You're joking."

Ares snapped his fingers. The back door of the truck unlatched. "Free ride west, punks. Stop complaining. And here's a little something for doing the job."

He slings a blue nylon backpack off his handlebars and tossed it to Percy.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of them, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuffed Oreos.

Percy said, "I don't want your lousy⎼"

Simultaneously, Isa said, "We don't need your⎼"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted them, giving them his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

Percy gritted his teeth as Isa clenched her fists. Isa knew it wasn't a good thing to decline things from a god, but she truly didn't want anything that Ares had touched. And Isa could tell, her brother had the same feeling. Reluctantly, Percy slung the backpack over his shoulder. They knew their anger was being caused by the war god's presence, but they still had an itching to punch him in the nose.

Isa and Percy looked back at the diner, which only had a few customers now. The waitress who'd served them dinner was watching nervously out the window like she was afraid Ares might hurt them. She dragged the cook out from the kitchen to see. She said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera, and snapped a picture of them.

'Styx!' Isa thought. They'll make the papers again tomorrow.

"You owe me one more thing," Percy told Ares, trying to keep his voice level. "You promised me information about my mother."

"You sure you can handle the news?" He kick-started his motorcycle. "She's not dead."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean she was taken away from the Minotaur before she could die. She was turned into a shower of gold, right? That's metamorphosis. Not death. She's being kept."

"Kept. Why?"

"You need to study war, punk⎼"

"Hostage," Isa interrupted, not caring if she interrupted a god. "She's being held hostage."