The Son of Neptune - Chapter 28

THE OLD MAN WAS RIGHT WHERE they’d left him, in the middle
of the food truck parking lot. He sat on his picnic bench
with his bunny slippers propped up, eating a plate of
greasy shish kebab. His weed whacker was at his side.
His bathrobe was smeared with barbecue sauce.
‘Welcome back!’ he called cheerfully. ‘I hear the flutter
of nervous little wings. You’ve brought me my harpy?’
‘She’s here,’ Percy said. ‘But she’s not yours.’
Phineas sucked the grease off his fingers. His milky
eyes seemed fixed on a point just above Percy’s head. ‘I
see … Well, actually, I’m blind, so I don’t see. Have you
come to kill me, then? If so, good luck completing your
quest.’
‘I’ve come to gamble.’
The old man’s mouth twitched. He put down his shish
kebab and leaned towards Percy. ‘A gamble … how
interesting. Information in exchange for the harpy?
Winner take all?’
‘No,’ Percy said. ‘The harpy isn’t part of the deal.’
Phineas laughed. ‘Really? Perhaps you don’t
understand her value.’
‘She’s a person,’ Percy said. ‘She isn’t for sale.’
‘Oh, please! You’re from the Roman camp, aren’t you?
Rome was built on slavery. Don’t get all high and mighty
with me. Besides, she isn’t even human. She’s a monster.
A wind spirit. A minion of Jupiter.’
Ella squawked. Just getting her into the parking lot had
been a major challenge, but now she started backing
away, muttering, ‘“Jupiter. Hydrogen and helium. Sixtythree
satellites.” No minions. Nope.’
Hazel put her arm around Ella’s wings. She seemed to
be the only one who could touch the harpy without causing
lots of screaming and twitching.
Frank stayed at Percy’s side. He held his spear ready,
as if the old man might charge them.
Percy brought out the ceramic vials. ‘I have a different
wager. We’ve got two flasks of gorgon’s blood. One kills.
One heals. They look exactly the same. Even we don’t
know which is which. If you choose the right one, it could
cure your blindness.’
Phineas held out his hands eagerly. ‘Let me feel them.
Let me smell them.’
‘Not so fast,’ Percy said. ‘First you agree to the terms.’
‘Terms …’ Phineas was breathing shallowly. Percy
could tell he was hungry to take the offer. ‘Prophecy and
sight … I’d be unstoppable. I could own this city. I’d build
my palace here, surrounded by food trucks. I could
capture that harpy myself!’
‘N-noo,’ Ella said nervously. ‘Nope, nope, nope.’
A villainous laugh is hard to pull off when you’re wearing
pink bunny slippers, but Phineas gave it his best shot.
‘Very well, demigod. What are your terms?’
‘You get to choose a vial,’ Percy said. ‘No uncorking, no
sniffing before you decide.’
‘That’s not fair! I’m blind.’
‘And I don’t have your sense of smell,’ Percy countered.
‘You can hold the vials. And I’ll swear on the River Styx
that they look identical. They’re exactly what I told you:
gorgon’s blood, one vial from the left side of the monster,
one from the right. And I swear that none of us knows
which is which.’
Percy looked back at Hazel. ‘Uh, you’re our Underworld
expert. With all this weird stuff going on with Death, is an
oath on the River Styx still binding?’
‘Yes,’ she said, without hesitation. ‘To break such a
vow … Well, just don’t do it. There are worse things than
death.’
Phineas stroked his beard. ‘So I choose which vial to
drink. You have to drink the other one. We swear to drink
at the same time.’
‘Right,’ Percy said.
‘The loser dies, obviously,’ Phineas said. ‘That kind of
poison would probably keep even me from coming back
to life … for a long time, at least. My essence would be
scattered and degraded. So I’m risking quite a lot.’
‘But if you win, you get everything,’ Percy said. ‘If I die,
my friends will swear to leave you in peace and not take
revenge. You’d have your sight back, which even Gaia
won’t give you.’
The old man’s expression soured. Percy could tell he’d
struck a nerve. Phineas wanted to see. As much as Gaia
had given him, he resented being kept in the dark.
‘If I lose,’ the old man said, ‘I’ll be dead, unable to give
you information. How does that help you?’
Percy was glad he’d talked this through with his friends
ahead of time. Frank had suggested the answer.
‘You write down the location of Alcyoneus’s lair ahead of
time,’ Percy said. ‘Keep it to yourself, but swear on the
River Styx it’s specific and accurate. You also have to
swear that if you lose and die, the harpies will be released
from their curse.’
‘Those are high stakes,’ Phineas grumbled. ‘You face
death, Percy Jackson. Wouldn’t it be simpler just to hand
over the harpy?’
‘Not an option.’
Phineas smiled slowly. ‘So you are starting to
understand her worth. Once I have my sight, I’ll capture
her myself, you know. Whoever controls that harpy … well,
I was a king once. This gamble could make me a king
again.’
‘You’re getting ahead of yourself,’ Percy said. ‘Do we
have a deal?’
Phineas tapped his nose thoughtfully. ‘I can’t foresee
the outcome. Annoying how that works. A completely
unexpected gamble … it makes the future cloudy. But I
can tell you this, Percy Jackson – a bit of free advice. If
you survive today, you’re not going to like your future. A
big sacrifice is coming, and you won’t have the courage to
make it. That will cost you dearly. It will cost the world
dearly. It might be easier if you just choose the poison.’
Percy’s mouth tasted like Iris’s sour green tea. He
wanted to think the old man was just psyching him out, but
something told him the prediction was true. He
remembered Juno’s warning when he’d chosen to go to
Camp Jupiter: You will feel pain, misery and loss beyond
anything you’ve ever known. But you might have a chance
to save your old friends and family.
In the trees around the parking lot, the harpies gathered
to watch as if they sensed what was at stake. Frank and
Hazel studied Percy’s face with concern. He’d assured
them the odds weren’t as bad as fifty-fifty. He did have a
plan. Of course, the plan could backfire. His chance of
survival might be a hundred per cent – or zero. He hadn’t
mentioned that.
‘Do we have a deal?’ he asked again.
Phineas grinned. ‘I swear on the River Styx to abide by
the terms, just as you have described them. Frank Zhang,
you’re the descendant of an Argonaut. I trust your word. If I
win, do you and your friend Hazel swear to leave me in
peace, and not seek revenge?’
Frank’s hands were clenched so tight Percy thought he
might break his gold spear, but he managed to grumble, ‘I
swear it on the River Styx.’
‘I also swear,’ Hazel said.
‘Swear,’ Ella muttered. ‘“Swear not by the moon, the
inconstant moon.”’
Phineas laughed. ‘In that case, find me something to
write with. Let’s get started.’
Frank borrowed a napkin and a pen from a food truck
vendor. Phineas scribbled something on the napkin and
put it in his bathrobe pocket. ‘I swear this is the location of
Alcyoneus’s lair. Not that you’ll live long enough to read it.’
Percy drew his sword and swept all the food off the
picnic table. Phineas sat on one side. Percy sat on the
other.
Phineas held out his hands. ‘Let me feel the vials.’
Percy gazed at the hills in the distance. He imagined
the shadowy face of a sleeping woman. He sent his
thoughts into the ground beneath him and hoped the
goddess was listening.
Okay, Gaia, he said. I’m calling your bluff. You say I’m a
valuable pawn. You say you’ve got plans for me, and
you’re going to spare me until I make it north. Who’s more
valuable to you – me, or this old man? Because one of us
is about to die.
Phineas curled his fingers in a grasping motion. ‘Losing
your nerve, Percy Jackson? Let me have them.’
Percy passed him the vials.
The old man compared their weight. He ran his fingers
along the ceramic surfaces. Then he set them both on the
table and rested one hand lightly on each. A tremor
passed through the ground – a mild earthquake, just
strong enough to make Percy’s teeth chatter. Ella cawed
nervously.
The vial on the left seemed to shake slightly more than
the one on the right.
Phineas grinned wickedly. He closed his fingers around
the left-hand vial. ‘You were a fool, Percy Jackson. I
choose this one. Now we drink.’
Percy took the vial on the right. His teeth were
chattering.
The old man raised his vial. ‘A toast to the sons of
Neptune.’
They both uncorked their vials and drank.
Immediately, Percy doubled over, his throat burning.
His mouth tasted like gasoline.
‘Oh, gods,’ Hazel said behind him.
‘Nope!’ Ella said. ‘Nope, nope, nope.’
Percy’s vision blurred. He could see Phineas grinning
in triumph, sitting up straighter, blinking his eyes in
anticipation.
‘Yes!’ he cried. ‘Any moment now, my sight will return!’
Percy had chosen wrong. He’d been stupid to take such
a risk. He felt like broken glass was working its way
through his stomach, into his intestines.
‘Percy!’ Frank gripped his shoulders. ‘Percy, you can’t
die!’
He gasped for breath … and suddenly his vision
cleared.
At the same moment, Phineas hunched over like he’d
been punched.
‘You – you can’t!’ the old man wailed. ‘Gaia, you – you –’
He staggered to his feet and stumbled away from the
table, clutching his stomach. ‘I’m too valuable!’
Steam came out of his mouth. A sickly yellow vapour
rose from his ears, his beard, his blind eyes.
‘Unfair!’ he screamed. ‘You tricked me!’
He tried to claw the piece of paper out of his robe
pocket, but his hands crumbled, his fingers turning to
sand.
Percy rose unsteadily. He didn’t feel cured of anything
in particular. His memory hadn’t magically returned. But
the pain had stopped.
‘No one tricked you,’ Percy said. ‘You made your choice
freely, and I hold you to your oath.’
The blind king wailed in agony. He turned in a circle,
steaming and slowly disintegrating until there was nothing
left but an old, stained bathrobe and a pair of bunny
slippers.
‘Those,’ Frank said, ‘are the most disgusting spoils of
war ever.’
A woman’s voice spoke in Percy’s mind. A gamble,
Percy Jackson. It was a sleepy whisper, with just a hint of
grudging admiration. You forced me to choose, and you
are more important to my plans than the old seer. But do
not press your luck. When your death comes, I promise it
will be much more painful than gorgon’s blood.
Hazel prodded the robe with her sword. There was
nothing underneath – no sign that Phineas was trying to
re-form. She looked at Percy in awe. ‘That was either the
bravest thing I’ve ever seen, or the stupidest.’
Frank shook his head in disbelief. ‘Percy, how did you
know? You were so confident he’d choose the poison.’
‘Gaia,’ Percy said. ‘She wants me to make it to Alaska.
She thinks … I’m not sure. She thinks she can use me as
part of her plan. She influenced Phineas to choose the
wrong vial.’
Frank stared in horror at the remains of the old man.
‘Gaia would kill her own servant rather than you? That’s
what you were betting on?’
‘Plans,’ Ella muttered. ‘Plans and plots. The lady in the
ground. Big plans for Percy. Macrobiotic jerky for Ella.’
Percy handed her the whole bag of jerky and she
squeaked with joy. ‘Nope, nope, nope,’ she muttered, halfsinging.
‘Phineas, nope. Food and words for Ella, yep.’
Percy crouched over the bathrobe and pulled the old
man’s note out of the pocket. It read: HUBBARD
GLACIER.
All that risk for two words. He handed the note to Hazel.
‘I know where that is,’ she said. ‘It’s pretty famous. But
we’ve got a long, long way to go.’
In the trees around the parking lot, the other harpies
finally overcame their shock. They squawked with
excitement and flew at the nearest food trucks, diving
through the service windows and raiding the kitchens.
Cooks shouted in many languages. Trucks shook back
and forth. Feathers and food boxes flew everywhere.
‘We’d better get back to the boat,’ Percy said. ‘We’re
running out of time.’

Categories: The Son of Neptune