DESTINY ↳ WILL SOLACE

18. Music Soothes The Savage Beast

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Music Soothes The Savage Beast

I don't own Percy Jackson.

In hindsight, their plan really could've been a thousand times better, but in their defense, the stress was getting to even Will's nerves. To his credit, he tried to convince Percy her plan was awful, but she'd have none of it.

Looking up at the golden DOA RECORDING STUDIOS etched into black marble, though, made her wish she had listened to him.

Right underneath was stenciled on the glass doors: NO SOLICITORS. NO LOITERING. NO LIVING.

Percy turned to Will. "Okay, so I'm thinking we use whatever brilliant plan you've cooked up instead."

He just looked back at her with an unreadable expression. "Percy... I know I roasted yours, but really, there isn't a better plan. There is no 'good' plan to get into the Underworld. This is the only way." Then he pursed his lips. "Sorry, by the way. For saying your plan was bad."

"But it is."

He shrugged. "When you've experienced this world a little more, you'll realize there's really no such thing as a good plan. You'll have to make up almost everything all the time." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, okay? Your prophecy said you'll make it. You'll find the bolt and return it. We're going to be fine."

Percy thought of the pearls in her pocket, the ones the Nereid had given her, and wondered how much they could've done if something went horribly wrong. Maybe the Oracle had said she'd succeed, but she couldn't help but think that if the Oracle was that old, maybe it had a limited warranty on accurate prophecies. Besides, it was hard to convince herself of success when she was going into the Underworld.

"We'll be fine." Grover's voice jolted her back to the present, and she realized her hand had drifted to the pearls. He gave her an encouraging smile. "We got this far. We'll find the bolt and save your mom."

She looked at them both, a warm feeling blooming in her chest. She wondered how she was lucky enough to have friends like them. Less than a quarter of an hour ago, she had almost gotten them stretched to death on deluxe waterbeds, and now they were trying to be brave for her sake.

"We'll be fine," she echoed.

They walked into the lobby.

Muzak played softly on hidden speakers. The carpet and walls were steel grey. 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.

If Percy didn't pay special attention, she could see everybody fine, but if she tried to focus on any of them in particular, they started becoming transparent. If she wanted, she could stare straight through a man and see the wall behind him.

She tried to focus instead on the raised podium security guard desk.

They stared up at a tall and elegant man, dressed in a silk Italian suit with a black rose pinned to his lapel.

Completely forgetting all her mythology lessons, Percy read his silver name tag and blurted out, "Your name is Chiron? Charon," Percy remedied quickly when Will kicked her in the shins, but it was too late.

"What a precious young lass." His accent was British, maybe, but strange, like he learned English as a second language. "Can you read this, mate?" He pinched his name tag. "C-H-A-R-O-N. CARE-ON."