craving |PERCY JACKSON| [book 1] UNDER EDITING

XXXI

THE GROUP FOUND THE ADDRESS to DOA recording studios on Crusty's desk and once the three recovered from the stretching, they went to their destination. 

It was almost midnight by the time they got there, 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 his friends. "Okay. You remember the plan."

"The plan," Grover gulped. "Yeah. I love the plan."

Annabeth said, "What happens if the plan doesn't work?"

"Don't think negative." Percy scolded,

"Right," she said. "We're entering the Land of the Dead, and I shouldn't think negative."

Percy took the pearls out of his pocket, the four milky spheres the Nereid had given him in Santa Monica. They didn't seem like much of a backup in case something went wrong.

Selena put her hand on Percy's shoulder. "You're right, Percy, we'll make it. It'll be fine." 

She gave Grover a nudge. "Oh, right!" he chimed in. "We got this far. We'll find the master bolt and save your mom. No problem."

Percy looked at the three in front of him and felt really grateful. Only a few minutes before, he had almost gotten them stretched to death on deluxe waterbeds, and now they were trying to be brave for his sake, trying to make him feel better.

Percy slipped the pearls back in his pocket, "Let's whup some Underworld butt."

They walked into 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 Selena's eye, she could see them all just fine, but if she focused on any one of them in particular, they started looking ... Transparent. She could see right through their bodies.

The security guard's desk was a raised podium, so they 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.

Percy read the name tag, then looked at him in bewilderment. "Your name is Chiron?"

He leaned across the desk. Percy couldn't see anything in his glasses except his own reflection, but his smile was sweet and cold, like a python's, right before it eats you.

"What a precious young lad." He had a strange accent-British, maybe, but also as if he had learned English as a second language. "Tell me, mate, do I look like a centaur?"

"N-no." Percy stuttered nervously,

"Sir," he added smoothly.

"Sir," Percy repeated,

He pinched the name tag and ran his finger over the letters. "Can you read this, mate? It says C-H-A-R- O-N. Say it with me: CARE-ON."

"Charon."

"Amazing! Now: Mr. Charon." He talked Percy through it.

"Mr. Charon," Percy said. 

"Well done." He sat back. "I hate being confused with that old horse-man. And now, how may I help you little dead ones?"

His question caught in Percy's stomach like a fastball. He looked at Selena for support, "We want to go the Underworld," she said.

Charon's mouth twitched. "Well, that's refreshing."

"It is?" she asked.

"Straightforward and honest. No screaming. No 'There must be a mistake, Mr. Charon.'" He looked them over. "How did you die, then?"

Percy nudged Grover, "Oh," he said. "Um ... Drowned ... In the bathtub."

"All three of you?" Charon asked. 

They nodded. "Big bathtub." Charon looked mildly impressed. "I don't suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children ... Alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you'll have to take a seat for a few centuries."

"Oh, but we have coins." Selena set three golden drachmas on the counter, the remaining ones from her satchel.

"Well, now ..." Charon moistened his lips. "Real drachmas. Real golden drachmas. I haven't seen these in..." His fingers hovered greedily over the coins.

They were so close.

Then Charon looked at Percy. That cold stare behind his glasses seemed to bore a hole through his chest. "Here now," he said. "You couldn't read my name correctly. Are you dyslexic, lad?"

"No," Percy said. "I'm dead."

Charon leaned forward and took a sniff. "You're not dead. I should've known. You're a Godling."

"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy insisted.

Charon made a growling sound deep in his throat. Immediately, all the people in the waiting room got up and started pacing, agitated, lighting cigarettes, running hands through their hair, or checking their wristwatches.

"Leave while you can," Charon told us. "I'll just take these and forget I saw you." He started to go for the coins, but Percy snatched them back.

"No service, no tip." Percy tried to sound braver than he felt.

Charon growled again. A deep, blood-chilling sound. The spirits of the dead started pounding on the elevator doors.

"It's a shame, too," Percy sighed. "We had more to offer."

Percy held up the entire bag from Crusty's stash. He took out a fistful of drachmas and let the coins spill through his fingers.

Charon's growl changed into something more like a lion's purr. "Do you think I can be bought, Godling? Eh ... Just out of curiosity, how much have you got there?"

"A lot," Percy answered, "I bet Hades doesn't pay you well enough for such hard work."

"Oh, you don't know the half of it. How would you like to babysit these spirits all day? Always 'Please don't let me be dead' or 'Please let me across for free.' I haven't had a pay raise in three thousand years. Do you imagine suits like this come cheap?"

"You deserve better," Percy agreed. "A little appreciation. Respect. Good pay." With each word, Percy stacked another gold coin on the counter.

Charon glanced down at his silk Italian jacket as if imagining himself in something even better. "I must say, lad, you're making some sense now. Just a little."

Percy stacked another few coins. "I could mention a pay raise while I'm talking to Hades."

He sighed, "The boat's almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off." He stood, scooped up their money, and said, "Come along."

They pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at their clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things they couldn't make out. Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, "Freeloaders."