Chapter 7

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Seven

I Get A Lift From My Math Teacher

  We emerged in Central Park just north of the Pond. Mrs. O'Leary looked pretty tired as she limped over to a cluster of boulders. She started sniffing around, and I was afraid she might mark her territory, but Nico said, "It's okay. She just smells the way home."

  I frowned. "Through the rocks?"

  "The Underworld has two major entrances," Nico said. "You know the one in L.A."

  "Charon's ferry."

  Nico nodded. "Most souls go that way, but there's a smaller path, harder to find. The Door of Orpheus."

  "The dude with the harp."

  "Dude with the lyre," Nico corrected. "But yeah, him. He used his music to charm the earth and open a new path into the Underworld. He sang his way right into Hades's palace and almost got away with his wife's soul."

  I remembered the story. Orpheus wasn't supposed to look behind him when he was leading his wife back to the world, but of course he did. It was one of those typical "and-so-they-died/the-end" stories that always made us feel warm and fuzzy.

  "So this is the Door of Orpheus." I tried to be impressed, but it still looked like a pile of rocks to me.

  "How does it open?"

  "We need music," Nico said. "Can you still sing?"

  I scoffed. "No."

  Nico raised an eyebrow at me. "You sang me to sleep every time I had a nightmare. Did you lose your powers after you were claimed, or something?"

  I frowned. "I don't like singing. Can't you just open it? You're the son of Hades."

  "It's not so easy. We need music. You have an amazing voice, (y/n)."

  I wasn't that anxious to sing, so I decided on another thing.

  "I have a better idea." I turned and called, "GROVER!"

We waited for a long time. Mrs. O'Leary curled up and took a nap. I could hear the crickets in the woods and an owl hooting. Traffic hummed along Central Park West. Horse hooves clopped down a nearby path, maybe a mounted police patrol. I was sure they'd love to find two kids hanging out in the park at one in the morning.

  "It's no good," Nico said at last.

  I frowned. "I won't sing."

  Nico rolled his eyes. "What's so hard about it? You sing, we pass to the underworld, do what we came to do, and go back. Nothing much."

  "I said I won't."

  Nico huffed and laid back.

  I paced around, kicking trees out of frustration and calling, "Come on, Grover! Food! We have food. Why don't you come here? We have pancakes!"

  Suddenly, a tree I kicked spilled a satyr from its branches, landing on his head. I flinched back before I noticed it was Grover that was laying on the ground.

  "Grover!" I yelled.

  "Are we playing?" Mrs. O'Leary looked up, probably wondering if we were going to play fetch with the satyr.

  "Blah-haa-haa!" Grover bleated.

  "You okay, man?"

  "Oh, I'm fine." He rubbed his head. His horns had grown so much they poked an inch above his curly hair. "I was at the other end of the park. The dryads had this great idea of passing me through the trees to get me here. They don't understand height very well."

𐌙/𐌍 Ᏽ𐌵𐌀𐌋𐌄 & 𐌕𐋅𐌄 Ᏽ𐌐𐌄𐌀𐌕 𐌌𐌙𐌕𐋅𐌔 ¹Where stories live. Discover now