The Jacksons (completed): Book 2 - Percy Jackson Fanfiction

~ Chapter Thirty: ESME

Chapter Thirty:

ESME

There. At last. A hole.

Not big, not small, just right. I could crawl through there and end up anywhere.

My powers were weak. Extremely weak. I could only hold a forcefield for two or three seconds, and my invisibility powers could only sustain one blow. An explosion or an earthquake of some kind would wipe me out.

But it didn't matter. Here, in my concrete cell, I'd been digging. Digging long and hard with plastic spoons that I'd pilched from my food rations. Dig dig digging. Always digging.

That may sound stupid, ridiculous, unbelievable - but the hard determination of being a Borne and the sweet taste of escape so close... it drove me hard and fast.

The hole was deep and as I dug further, it suddenly caved in. A tunnel, already there!

Someone's escaped from here before, I thought. That didn't exactly reassure me.

Without looking back, I slid down into the passage but my feet fell from beneath me and I ended up tumbling under. Dirt sprayed across my face as I landed with a thud.

There was a whole network of tunnels, several doors leading here and there. A man, tall and thin, slouched against a column of mud. He wore a pinstripe black suit, a black bowler hat pulled low over his eyes and shining black shoes. His leathery skin hung beneath his chin, but not fat; like it had melted off of his face. There was something defiant about the way he stood, like he knew he shouldn't be here but he couldn't resist.

He raised his eyes, and they were bright pink.

"Esme Jackson!" His grin was a mile wide. "Oh, my. This is such... I can't believe I am here, with you, today. Let me think... eighteen, nineteen years ago, I met your parents. Before they were married, of course."

My heart was hammering. "My mum and dad?"

"Mr Percy Jackson. Oh, that was indeed an honour. I had him right where I wanted him, and his pretty little lady friend, too. Now, my dear friends - Pseudologoi and Apate - they did not get the chance to meet your lovely parents. But they can certainly meet you."

Another bloke appeared, and he looked relatively human. He was slightly fuller, a little more athletic, with a soot-black beard neatly trimmed and well-groomed dark hair. He had a charming smile and dressed tidily in a crisp white shirt, black trousers and a blood-red tie. His eyes were kaleidoscopic; a mixture of yellows and greens and blues and oranges and purples.

"Pseudologoi." He warmly grabbed my hand and shook it. "I see you've met my counterpart, Dolus." He turned to the thin man. "Where is the gorgeous Apate?"

Dolus shrugged. "She'll be along, Pseudologoi."

"Can I call you Sue?" I blurted.

Pseudologoi's smile did not drop, but became slightly colder. "Pseudologoi will be fine, Miss Jackson. Now. APATE!"

And there was a third figure, startlingly perfect. Her hair was short and caramel-coloured, her eyes like chocolate buttons. She wore a hot-pink dress that matched Dolus' eyes, and her skin was pale and glowing. But the ferocious snarl on her face did not match her undistinguishable beauty.

"I wish you wouldn't holler like that!" she growled at the two men. "I was at war with Aletheia, like you well knew. I hate that blasted truth, her and her legions of followers!"

Sue - I couldn't pronounce his name - rolled his eyes. "Enough, Apate. We have a guest."

The stunning woman seemed to notice me for the first time, but her snarl just became a firm scowl. "Oh, another beautiful vixen," she snapped.