Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
THIRTEEN, we drowned in a bathtub
❀ ✿ ❀ ✿
DOA RECORDING STUDIOS WAS the easiest sign Aster had ever read. It was in gold lettering etched in black marble, which probably helped, but she gave herself a pat on the back for overcoming her dyslexia. Underneath, there was another message stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.
That last one might be a problem.
It was almost midnight, but the lobby was brightly lit and full of people. Behind the security desk sat a tough-looking guard with sunglasses and an earpiece.
Percy turned to Aster, Annabeth, and Grover. "Okay. You remember the plan."
"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."
Annabeth bit her lip nervously. "And what happens if the plan doesn't work?"
Percy paused for a moment. "Don't think negatively."
"Right," Aster said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and we shouldn't think negatively. Great strategy."
Percy took the four pearls he had received from the nereid in Santa Monica. He studied them for a moment, and Annabeth stepped forwards. "Sorry, Percy. You're right, we'll make it. It'll be fine."
She gave Grover a nudge.
"Oh, right!" the satyr chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."
Annabeth looked over at Aster, who obliged. "What they said. We technically should be dead already anyways, so why not keep cheating death?"
Percy looked at the three of them, relief flushing over his face. Aster smiled at him, and he slipped the pearls back into his pocket. "Let's whoop some Underworld butt."
"You could say that again," Aster muttered, and they walked inside the DOA lobby.
Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel gray. Pencil cactuses grew in the corners like skeleton hands. The furniture was black leather, and every seat was taken. There were people sitting on couches, people standing up, people staring out the windows or waiting for the elevator. Nobody moved, or talked, or did much of anything. Out of the corner of Aster's eye, she could see them all just fine, but if she focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking... transparent. Aster could see right through their bodies. It was a bit unsettling, to say the least.
The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so they all had to look up at him. He was tall and elegant, with chocolate-colored 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.
