Bathtubs are dangerous
Percy rested his hand on his chin. "Feels like this part was way too easy…, like we skipped a bunch of steps,"
All of them stared at the sign in golden letters over black marble.
DOA Recording Studios
Below, on the glass doors, there was another sign:
no lawyers, no vagrants, no living.
Meanwhile, Percy's gaze went straight through the doors, looking inside, where the lobby was packed with people… and a security guard with sunglasses, a baton, and a very unfriendly look.
Percy turned to look at his companions, who were also staring directly at the people inside.
Grover, as always, looked nervous, swallowing hard. Annabeth, on the other hand, tried to look casual, but it was obvious from her eyes that she was tense. Only Harry seemed a bit calmer, understanding that this was the final stretch, letting that push him a bit.
"Alright… do you remember the plan?" Harry asked, looking at the others just in case.
"The plan? Yeah… the plan, I love the plan," Grover said, pulling himself together, shaking his head like he was trying to shake off the nerves.
Annabeth just nodded, letting out a small breath to steady herself.
Percy nodded too, smiling slightly, but Harry kept his eyes on him for a few seconds longer, making Percy look away for a moment.
"Can you go over it one more time? I didn't really get why we still have to go to the Underworld if we already have Ares's backpack," Percy said, sounding a bit guilty under that stare.
Harry just sighed.
"It's because Ares said the backpack will only pull the master bolt into it once we're in the Underworld. That way, if we die, he loses nothing. So we still have to go there no matter what. And also…" Harry said, pulling an old black helmet out of his enchanted bag, like shadows themselves had turned solid. "We need to return Hades's helm. That way we complete his quest too. Then all that's left is getting out of the Underworld and returning the master bolt to Zeus… and stopping your dad and him from destroying half the world in their childish fight," Harry explained calmly so Percy could follow.
"I get it," Percy said, though the way he scratched his head… and his expression… made it clear he didn't really get it. And Harry had already simplified it a lot for him. Still, as long as he understood the important parts, it was enough.
"That's if Hades lets us leave his realm," Annabeth said seriously.
"We're about to give him his helm back. Letting us go should be the least of his worries. I don't know why you still seem to have something against him, considering he wasn't the one who stole the master bolt in the end," Percy said, glancing at her.
Annabeth met his gaze for a moment, frowning.
"It doesn't matter… let's go in," she said, like she didn't want to talk about it.
Percy looked at the others, like he wanted an explanation, but Harry didn't seem to care, and Grover just avoided his eyes for a moment and followed Annabeth quietly.
"Come on," Harry said, gesturing, as they pushed open the glass doors.
The moment they stepped into the DOA Recording Studios lobby, soft elevator music surrounded them, playing from hidden speakers in every corner. And now they had a better view of the place, which had walls of steel gray. In the corners, there were cacti with skeletal hands.
And all the furniture was black leather.
Only now did they notice how crowded it really was. Every seat was taken, people sitting quietly, while others had to stand and wait.
And what all of them shared… was that they were staring at the elevator. Like they had been waiting for it… longer than anyone should.
No one moved, spoke, or did anything else.
They just stared.
As the four of them walked together toward the guard, Percy focused on some of the people who looked normal… until he stared too closely and realized he could see through them, nudging Harry a couple of times.
But Harry had already noticed, so he gestured for him to stay calm, since they had reached the security desk, which was slightly elevated, forcing them to look up to meet the guard's gaze.
And the man looked down at them… serious.
The guard didn't look like any normal building guard. He was tall and elegant, with bright blond hair, cut in a military style. He wore sunglasses that looked expensive… but not as much as his Italian silk suit, which matched his hair.
And on his lapel there was a small black rose… and a name badge.
Percy tried to read it, his face a little confused.
"Is your name Chiron?" he asked on reflex.
The moment he heard that, the man frowned and leaned over the counter, bringing his face closer to them, making Percy and Harry, who were right in front, take a step back on instinct. His gaze was cold… though there was a fake smile on his lips, like some kind of python about to swallow you whole.
"Well, well… what do we have here. A group of youngsters. I can't say it's rare to see that around here… but it's not something I see every day either," the man said with a somewhat British accent. Though Harry and Percy, coming from England, could tell it was forced. "Tell me, boy… do I look like a centaur to you?"
"N-no…," Percy answered quietly.
"Sir," he added under his breath.
"Sir," Percy repeated after a moment, unable to hide the slight frown.
Percy glanced at his brother for a moment, feeling like all those etiquette books he kept getting for his birthdays hadn't really done much for him. Then he looked back at the man, who was now slowly correcting him, like he was teaching a grade school kid how to read his own name.
"Charon," Percy repeated after the man made him read it again, going over it with him.
"Very good, boy. Now, Sir Charon," Charon said, fixing Percy with a serious look that left no room to argue.
"Sir Charon," Percy repeated politely, unable to hide a bit of embarrassment, while his friends and his brother stared at him, not helping at all… if anything, they seemed to be enjoying it a little.
"Good. I hate being mistaken for that monstrosity," Charon said, settling back into his seat comfortably as he looked at the group. "So then… how can I help you, little dead ones?" he asked calmly.
Those words froze the group instantly, all of them exchanging quick looks, somewhere between confused and nervous.
Luckily, Annabeth reacted fast.
"We want to go to the Underworld," she said.
Charon showed a flicker of surprise, intrigued.
"Well now… people like you are my favorite. Straight to the point, no whining, no screaming about it being a mistake and all that nonsense. Good… so then… how did you die?" he asked, more out of curiosity than necessity.
Percy immediately nudged Grover, who answered right away:
"Drowned… sir. In a bathtub," Grover blurted, saying the first thing that came to his mind.
Harry and Annabeth both shot him a look. Even Percy couldn't help but feel that was the worst excuse he had ever heard… and he was basically the king of bad excuses.
"All four of you?" Charon asked, looking at them. And they had no choice but to go along with that stupid lie, nodding in unison.
Annabeth couldn't help but give Grover a small kick at the ankle. After all, she was the only girl in the group.
"Well… I can't really comment on mortal customs, they change all the time anyway," Charon said, not caring much. "So… I assume you don't have money to pay for the boat, correct? That's the problem with children. If you were adults, I could just charge it to a card or take it from whatever cash you hide under your beds. But… children are more complicated," he said, tapping the desk with his finger. "So you'll have to wait with the others for a few centuries," Charon added, already about to motion for them to join the line of the dead, who seemed to be waiting for exactly that.
"Ah… no, we do have gold drachmas," Percy said quickly, glancing at Harry, who was in charge of the money.
Harry didn't keep him waiting. He quickly pulled out four drachmas… the only coins Ares had left them in the backpack, clearly expecting them to use them for this, proving everything had been planned down to the smallest detail. Just… not by him.
"Well, well…," Charon said, picking up one of the coins from the counter and inspecting it carefully. "Real drachmas… it's been a while since I've seen one of these used by the dead," he said, before lifting his gaze again and looking straight at them. "Of course… if you really are," he added, leaning forward again over the desk… and sniffing the air.
"As I thought…," he said, staring at them.
"You're not dead at all."