❝ Does being a Child of Hermes automatically make you good at flirting? Or was that just a skill you picked up? ❞
Andromeda Jackson knew she was not cut out for the demigod life, and that was before she heard about her death from the creepy oracle i...
─── dogs are the way to my heart, regardless of their size
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ℑt took us another three hours or so to reach the address for Hades' home. Once we stepped out of the taxi, all of us were a bit unsure of what to do.
There entry to my uncle's home was guarded by large, gilded gates with a box on one side that someone was sitting in. The four of us had stopped out of view, trying to peer through the fence and see what was in side but to no luck, instead we were left plotting how to get in.
I turned to my friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."
"Which plan?" Annabeth asked.
"Luke's. Mine was terrible," I replied, nodding my head.
"I agree," Luke murmured.
"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."
Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"
"Don't think negative."
"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."
I took the pearls out of my pocket, the four milky spheres the Nereid had given me in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong.
Luke put his hand on my shoulder. "Andi, we'll make it. It'll be fine."
He gave Annabeth and Grover a pointed look.
"Oh, right!" Grover chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."
I sent the trio grateful looks. Only a few hours before, I'd almost gotten them stretched, or beheaded, to death on deluxe water beds, and now they were trying to be brave for my sake, trying to make me feel better.
I slipped the pearls back in my pocket. "Let's get dead then."
We walked up to the guard box, ready to barter (or climb our way inside). As we drew closer, other people became visible. They were standing around, doing nothing and they began to look somewhat transparent. I could see through the closest one beside me.
The security guard's office was raised, so we had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-coloured skin and bleached-blond hair shaved military style. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag and my dyslexia decided to say hello.
