Indigo Eyes

Chapter 87

They thought they lost the spider but Tyson heard a faint pining sound and eventually, after backtracking and a few turns both right and wrong, they eventually found the spider banging its tiny head on a metal door.

It looked like a submarine hatch with a wheel for a handle. Except this one had a big brass plaque above the wheel, one that was green with age and with a Greek Êta inscribed in the middle.

The five friends glanced at each other.

"Ready to meet Hephaestus?" Grover said nervously.

"No," Percy admitted.

"Yes!' Tyson said gleefully, and he turned the wheel. As soon as the door opened, the spider scuttled inside with Tyson right behind it and the rest of them had no choice but to follow.

The room was enormous. It looked like a mechanic's garage, with several hydraulic lifts. Some had cars on them, but others had stranger things: a bronze hippalektryon with its horse head off and a bunch of wires hanging out of its rooster tail, a metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a battery charger, and a Greek war chariot made entirely of flames. Smaller projects cluttered a dozen worktables.

Under the nearest hydraulic lift, which was holding a '98 Toyota Corolla, a pair of legs stuck out – the lower half of a huge man in grubby grey overalls and shoes even bigger than Tyson's. One leg was in a metal brace. The spider scuttled straight under the car, and the sounds of banging stopped.

"Well, well," a deep voice boomed from under the Corolla. "What have we here?"

Hephaestus wore overalls covered in grime and oil and inscribed with his name on the chest pocket. His hands were the size of catcher's mitts, but he handled the spider with amazing skill. He disassembled it in two seconds, then put it back together.

"There," he muttered to himself. "Much better." The spider did a happy flip in his palm, shot a metallic web at the ceiling, and went swinging away.

Hephaestus glowered at them. "I didn't make you, did I?"

"Uh, no sir," Annabeth said.

"Good," the god grumbled. "Shoddy workmanship." He studied Percy, Cressida and Annabeth. "'Half-bloods,' he grunted. "Could be automatons, of course, but probably not."

"We've met, sir," Percy told him. 

"Have we?" the god asked absently, not really caring as he tried to figure out how their joints worked or something. "Well then, if I didn't smash you to a pulp the first time we met, I suppose I won't have to do it now." He looked at Grover and frowned. "Satyr." Then he looked at Tyson, and his eyes twinkled. "Well, a Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing travelling with this lot?"

"Uh..." said Tyson, staring in wonder at the god.

"Yes, well said," Hephaestus agreed. "So, there'd better be a good reason you're disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know."

"Sir," Annabeth said hesitantly, "we're looking for Daedalus. We thought -"

"Daedalus?" the god roared. "You want that old scoundrel? You dare to seek him out!" His beard burst into flames and his black eyes glowed.

"Uh, yes, sir, please," Annabeth said.

"Humph. You're wasting your time." He frowned at something on his worktable and limped over to it. He picked up a lump of springs and metal plates and tinkered with them. In a few seconds, he was holding a bronze and silver falcon. It spread its metal wings, blinked its obsidian eyes and flew around the room. Tyson laughed and clapped his hands. The bird landed on Tyson's shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately. Hephaestus regarded him. "I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops."