I Drowned in the Bathtub and Bribed Charon?
"Wow… this is an incredible flute," Grover said with genuine interest, holding the instrument with both hands and studying it with contagious happiness as he examined it quickly. The glow around it was special; the carvings were so vivid that they didn't only show a wolf, but also a bear intertwined in the design. The wood looked ancient and precious, as if it came from a forest that didn't even exist in the mortal world. "But… what does it do?" he asked with a confused look, unable to understand its exact purpose.
"Just try it," Percy said with interest as well, while Annabeth observed the golden tiara with analytical eyes. It wasn't something she would normally wear; at first glance it looked too flashy, almost like something an extremely girly child would use… or a princess from old fairy tales.
Grover looked at the flute again and hesitated for only a second before bringing it to his lips and playing a soft melody. The flute glowed for an instant and, right in front of them, a massive specter began to take shape; it was a wolf the same size as the three of them, made of luminous mist. Grover got scared and stopped blowing immediately, not completing the summoning, so the figure dissolved into a cloud that slowly dispersed into the air.
All three of them stood there with their mouths open, staring without knowing what to say.
"That was awesome… right?" Percy asked.
Grover and Annabeth only nodded, completely agreeing. If that was what they thought it was, then Grover had just obtained something similar to a summoner.
Percy and Grover turned to look at Annabeth almost at the same time, as if waiting to discover what exactly the tiara in her hands did.
Annabeth looked at them, then observed the golden tiara more closely. It really seemed crafted with extreme care; she could feel the piece clearing her mind just by touching it, like a whisper organizing her thoughts. Finally, she decided to put it on.
The moment the tiara touched her hair, it emitted a faint golden light. Annabeth felt an internal jolt, as if a mental cleansing pushed a fog out of her brain. She lifted her head slightly and recognized with absolute clarity the letters written on the signs of nearby stores, even though they were closed and dimly lit. Her eyes opened in surprise.
The mental clarity was almost overwhelming; she could think of several strategies at once, remember details from the past with absolute precision, process ideas at a speed that bordered on impossible. For a moment she even felt a slight dizziness at the avalanche of information her mind was processing so easily. That was why she quickly removed the tiara.
"And?" Percy asked with obvious interest after seeing Annabeth's surprised expression.
"This… I think it makes me smarter when I wear it," she said with a mix of surprise, happiness, and conflicted emotions as she looked at the tiara between her fingers.
That strange feeling came from the fact that the gift came from Percy's mysterious master, a being whose true identity they didn't even know; and yet the object had a level that could rival any gift the goddess of wisdom could give her children.
"Seriously?" Percy asked, fascinated. "Can I try it?"
Annabeth handed it to him without thinking too much; after all, it had been a gift left by Percy's own master.
Percy held the tiara, studied it with some intrigue, and said, "Well, it's not really my style… but I hope it looks good on me," he joked before putting it on.
A few seconds passed. Nothing.
Percy made a confused expression. "Umm… I think it doesn't work," he finally said while taking the tiara off and giving it back to Annabeth.
"Maybe it doesn't work on donkeys," Annabeth commented with a mocking smile, very satisfied with herself.
"Ha ha, very funny," Percy replied sarcastically.
"Guys…" Grover said, interrupting.
Annabeth and Percy looked at him and followed the direction he was pointing. Inside the place, a really tall and muscular security guard was staring at them. "I think he's been looking at us for a while," Grover whispered, nervous because of the intensity of the man's gaze.
Annabeth quickly put the tiara away while Grover hung the flute around his neck.
The three of them walked in slowly, feeling the weight of that gaze on them. The guard didn't get up to stop them; he just kept watching them insistently, and his intimidating presence made Grover swallow hard.
From somewhere in the ceiling, elevator music was playing, soft and strangely out of place. The carpets and walls were a dull steel gray. The cacti used as decoration looked like petrified skeletal hands. The black leather furniture was full; every chair occupied.
The place was packed with people. People sitting, standing, waiting for the elevator… but no one moved, no one talked, no one did anything. They seemed to simply be waiting, empty, lost in suspended time.
The three of them noticed something disturbing: they could see the people clearly, but if they focused enough, their vision passed through their bodies as if they were almost transparent. It was like watching solid shadows.
They approached the counter where the guard sat. Up close, the man was even more imposing; so tall that the three had to raise their heads just to see him properly. His appearance was immaculate: dyed blond hair with a military cut, glasses that barely let his eyes be seen, a perfectly tailored Italian silk suit, and on the lapel, a black rose under a name tag.
Percy read the name for a moment and then looked at the guard. "Is your name Chiron?" he asked innocently.
The guard rested his elbows on the desk and leaned toward them. His smile was sweet and cold at the same time, like a serpent about to swallow its prey whole.
"Tell me, little boy… do I look like a centaur to you?" he suddenly asked in a deep, guttural voice, filled with restrained irritation.
"N… no," Percy said softly.
"Sir," the man added with a gentle yet clearly authoritative tone.
"Sir," Percy repeated immediately.
The guard slid his finger under his name with a slow, elegant movement. "Repeat after me. Charon," he said, sliding his finger again under the letters as if teaching a five-year-old how to read.
"Charon," Percy repeated, letting out a sigh and feeling slightly annoyed by the treatment.
"Well done. It's not hard, right? Now say Mr. Charon," the man said with a smile as he softly clapped once.
Percy's emotions cooled instantly.
"Mr. Charon," he repeated, forcing himself not to spit out an insult.
"Good. I hate being compared to that flea-ridden centaur. Now… what do you need from me, little dead ones?" Charon asked, reclining elegantly in his seat.
"We want to go to the Underworld," Annabeth said quickly, while Percy muttered something under his breath, clearly annoyed at being treated like a child.
"Wow… what a surprise," Charon said calmly, adjusting himself slightly in his chair. "Normally everyone starts screaming that it was a mistake or crying until they drive me insane." His gaze darkened just a little as he remembered something that, by the way he spoke, had happened thousands and thousands of times across millennia. "Alright. How did you die?" he asked again, watching them with almost bored interest.
The three looked at each other anxiously for a moment, and Percy, without shame, gave Grover a little nudge with his elbow, pushing him forward as a voluntary sacrifice.
"Uh… ah… uh… drowned… in the bathtub," Grover said, blurting out the first thing that came to mind, earning him two death glares from Annabeth and Percy.
"All three of you?" Charon asked, raising a brow.
It took Percy and Annabeth some effort, but they eventually nodded; all three did it at the same time, forcing Grover to keep that ridiculous story going with their combined stare.
"Mm. I'm not one to judge. I've heard some very interesting deaths before," Charon said in a neutral, almost indifferent tone. "I suppose you won't have money to pay for the trip. Normally, if you were adults, I'd put the charge on a credit card or deduct it from your assets. But when it comes to children… I suppose you'll have to wait a couple of centuries."
"Oh no, we do have money," Percy said, pulling out several gold drachmas immediately; part of them stolen without the slightest remorse from Krusty's office.
Charon lifted himself a couple of centimeters from his seat and licked his lips at the sight of the coins. Greed shone in his eyes in a way the three of them could notice clearly. "Well, well… I really haven't seen drachmas in a while. And pure gold, too," he said as he stared at them again.
Then he sniffed the air. It was a deep, slow inhalation, heavy with intention. "You're not dead at all," he added immediately, fixing his gaze especially on Percy. "I should've realized. Demigods." He said it with the same natural tone someone else might use to say it's hot outside.
"We have to get to the Underworld," Percy said quickly, accepting that at this point there was no way to hide it.
But before he could continue speaking, Charon let out a deep roar that echoed throughout the room. The people inside stood up nervously and began walking aimlessly from side to side like frightened animals. Some lit cigarettes with trembling hands, others smoothed their hair compulsively. The fear was obvious.
"You better get out. I'll pretend I didn't see you. I'll keep the coins for the trouble," Charon said with a cold, almost lethal voice.
Before his hands reached the coins, Percy moved fast and grabbed them off the counter.
"No service, no tip," he said bravely, though his other hand moved in a slow, calculated way toward his bag, directly to the handle of his sword.
Charon released a growl so deep that the floor vibrated. The ghosts in the elevator pressed the button repeatedly as if hoping the door would open by divine miracle. Others hid under nearby chairs. Some grabbed cushions from the sofas to protect themselves, even though it was obvious that would do nothing.
Grover and Annabeth tensed immediately, looking at Percy with both hope and nerves as they waited for his idea to work.
"It's a shame," Percy said with a calm smile, pulling out a jingling pouch and, at the same time, a sword that looked like it was made of solid gold. "We have much more to offer."
Charon's growl transformed, as if his throat changed shape. What had been fury now sounded almost like the satisfied purr of a lion. The ferryman's eyes fixed first on the pouch, then on the sword, with a greed so strong it practically thickened the air.
"You think you can buy me with a couple of coins and a… truly magnificent solid gold sword? Beautiful… perfect… ahem. Just out of curiosity… how many coins do you have?" Charon asked, his voice becoming softer with every word.
"A few. But if it's not enough, I still have some gold bracelets," Percy added, pulling out some bracelets that looked really heavy.
They were weights created by Miraak with the gold he had found earlier. They had no aesthetic details; they were made solely for training. But since they were pure gold, they were literally worth their weight in gold.
Percy placed the items on the counter, one by one. The pouch fell first; when it hit the wood, it opened, revealing at least a dozen drachmas that glowed with a warm gleam. Then he placed the sword, whose weight made the counter rumble. Then the wrist weights. One by one. Charon's expression began to soften, losing all hardness.
Percy also pulled out two gold ankle weights. The desk creaked under the total weight, as if seriously considering giving up.
After all, Miraak had made those weights truly heavy.
"I think this should be enough for a few replacement suits," Percy said, resting his arm on the counter and pressing the gold lightly with one finger, as if it were a demonic temptation sent specifically for Charon.
The ferryman looked at his silk suit and began imagining newer, more expensive, more elegant suits… and many more of them.
"Ahem." Charon cleared his throat loudly as, with one hand, he slid all the gold toward himself with almost reverential softness. "Alright, little dead ones. Seems your death was really unfortunate. Drowned in a large bathtub. What a tragedy for your parents. The boat is almost full, but I can make room for you thanks to my charitable soul."
He gathered all the gold in his arms and stood up.
"Follow me," he said, leading the way toward the elevators.
Percy looked at Grover and Annabeth with a triumphant smile. "I'm becoming what I swore to destroy. A capitalist."
Grover and Annabeth rolled their eyes at the same time as they followed him.