The Remembrance of Chaos (PJO)

Chapter 9

"How many rooms?" The man behind the counter of the tavern asked gruffly. "And do you have the money for it?"

Percy wondered if anyone in the darn city was polite. He and Artemis had came into the old, but well-maintained stone building, dodged some drunk people lying on the ground (or maybe they were dead, who knows?) and walked over to the bar.

It had been notably harder for Percy, though, since Artemis had made him put the sunglasses on, blocking the light from entering his eyes. 

"It'll at least disguise us a bit," Artemis had explained. "Both of our eyes are very unique." Percy had obeyed, but not without a bit of grumbling.

The man standing there had not even looked up while asking his questions, showing his disinterest.

Artemis looked around, and made sure nobody was staring at them. A couple of people had looked up at them in mild interest when they had opened the door, but they had gone back to their conversations. 

Artemis summoned a pile of drachmas and slid them over towards the man. Percy's eyes had widened in shock; there were at least five-hundred coins in the big pile, way more than the pay would be. It had seemed as though that the barkeeper had not seen the magical summoning, since he was still stoic and uncaring. However, once the man looked at the coins, his eyes had widened and he turned his full attention towards them.

The room had fallen quiet, and everybody in the surprisingly gigantic room were looking at them: Some in shock at the amount of money; some in curiosity at why they had that much money; some in fear at how they had gotten that much money; some in greed, wondering how to steal it; and some were glaring at them for no apparent reason—perhaps because of the alcohol?

Fortunately, the man at the counter—who was obviously the owner of this place, recognizable with the tiny name tag on his shirt that read: Owner—glared at all the people staring, making them cower in fear and turn back to their conversations.

"How many rooms?" The man asked again, although in a much more nicer tone. 

Apparently, money equals politeness, Percy thought in his mind, refraining from snorting out loud. Artemis smirked at Percy, giving the impression that she knew what he was thinking. The man seemed confused at her behavior, but thankfully did not question it. Again—it probably was because of the money.

"One, but make sure it has two beds," Artemis informed the owner. "And let it be a normal room, not a luxury suite." He nodded quickly and gave Artemis a copper key engraved with the number "192". Perfect; It was a random number, not too even, and not too odd. "Third floor, first room to the right," He said. Artemis turned to leave.

"Before you go to your room," The owner said before they moved. They both turned back around. "Queen End has ordered the search of two wanted people. Have you seen a woman with silver eyes, and a man with green eyes? They both are in their late teens."

Artemis and Percy both stiffened. Fortunately, the man did not notice, since the movement was not very noticeable. Percy was now happy that he had listened to Artemis about the sunglasses, and tried to act older; he straightened his back as far as it went, making him a centimeter taller. "No, we haven't," Artemis replied in a curt tone that indicated she would not answer any more questions. 

"Okay, thank you," The man said. His eyes looked relieved however, as if asking that question would make them leave the place with the money.

A piece of advice: next time, ask two suspicious customers to remove their sunglasses when you only have age and eye color to identify, Percy thought. Percy did not just think they looked suspicious: he knew they looked suspicious. After all, who comes into a tavern during the night with sunglasses on? Moreover, why would they not take them off in dimly lit room? Of course, he did not say his thoughts out loud; he knew the value of his life.

I can't die though, Percy thought curiously. "What would End do to keep me permanently detained?

Would she just leave him to starve in the dungeons, forgetting that he could not die? Would she eventually get fed up and let him go? Or, would she kill him, wait for him to reform, and kill him again, repeatedly and for entertainment?

Percy knew the former was wishful thinking; why would End abduct him, erase his memories, and now search for him, only to leave him in utter boredom? The latter was much closer to reality; she would not have a bone of mercy in her body. As for the second . . . it was better to just forget about it.

Artemis nodded at him and started walking towards the stairs.  When Artemis stepped on the first stair, a hand shot out and grabbed her arm. It was a man who probably wanted to take their money. Only, there were two problems with his plan:

Firstly, he had threatened the wrong person. If he had grabbed Percy, he might have had a chance before Artemis came to help. Instead, he grabbed Artemis, a warrior goddess who Percy had recently realized was an Olympian. A man-hating Olympian, to make matters worse. In other words, Percy did not even need to lift a finger to help.

Secondly, even if he did knock Artemis out—which was highly unlikely—they did not have any money on them. It would be a waste of time.

Without even looking, she snapped his arm and calmly kept walking. The man howled in pain and cradled his arm gingerly. Percy looked at him in pity and disgust.

"Be glad she didn't eat you," Percy told the man ominously. The man's eyes widened in horror, obviously believing in what Percy had said. He retreated backwards, away from the stairs, and clumsily tripping over a table which was populated by a group of travelers. The table flipped, dumping the hot food onto the travelers' laps, making them cry out in pain. To add insult to injury, the man fell on his broken arm, eliciting a string of curses.

Percy watched this with amusement. With the man's adverse reaction to his statement, he found himself wondering what made what he said convincing. 

Maybe he values his life like me, Percy mused. Or maybe it's because Artemis looks like a cannibal: scary, intimidating, and strong.

Ruminating on this, Percy followed the retreating figure of Artemis: a man-hating Olympian—and maybe a cannibal?