"I'm sure your mother is fine," Isabella said, glancing at Percy from the corner of her eyes as they ascended Mount Lee.
"Ladora Buné will keep her safe."
He would be a fool not to.
"How do you know?" Percy asked quietly, staring at the ground before him. "Chiron said he couldn't be trusted."
"Chiron isn't always right," she shot back, her fingers tightening around the bag slung over her shoulder.
"Ladora saved your life. He saved Audrey's life. He has done nothing to earn our suspicion."
Percy let out a slow breath and buried his hands in his pockets.
"You're right," he muttered. "I'm just… worried. I don't know what I would do if mom got hurt."
Isabella reached out and gently squeezed the boy's shoulder, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
The love he shared with his mother was precious. It was rare for demigods to bond with their mortal parents.
Her brows furrowed slightly as a familiar memory echoed in her mind.
You will be my instrument of vengeance, little dove. You will make them regret the way they treated me.
She certainly hadn't.
"Audrey is the girl he brought to camp, right?" Percy asked, lifting his head. "How did the two of them meet?"
Isabella's expression softened as the blonde girl's stormy eyes flashed through her mind.
"She was hunted down by a brood of Arachnids."
An experience all too common among Athena's children.
"Just as she was about to face the Broodmother, he fell from the sky and killed it."
Isabella suppressed a snort.
From what she'd heard, the devil had a flair for dramatic entrances.
Percy blinked.
"A Brood—"
"We're here," Annabeth cut in as she glanced back at them.
The first letter of the Hollywood sign towered in front of her.
"I still think this is stupid." Percy's gaze traced the landmark as they approached the most well known entrance to the Underworld. "It's no wonder people keep finding this place. It's barely hidden."
"Why would they need to hide it?" Annabeth rolled her eyes. "Keeping people out is what the Trials are for."
Isabella nodded slowly, channelling a hint of divine energy into her eyes as she circled past the building-sized H.
"Getting in has always been the easy part," she said. "Escaping the Underworld will be the most difficult aspect of this quest."
Percy cleared his throat as he trailed behind her.
"I see…"
Her lips twitched as she focused on the densest cluster of mist in the area.
She did not blame him for underestimating the danger ahead.
During the course of their adventure, dozens of monsters and creatures of legends had stood in their way.
All had fallen.
His confidence was well founded—if only their enemy wasn't an elder god.
"Can you do it?" Annabeth asked as she approached her from the side. "I don't see anything."
Isabella hummed softly, studying the magical barrier.
The Mist was an entirely different branch of magic than the one she had inherited from her magus father.
What it lacked in versatility and offensive capabilities, it made up in its unmatched potential for concealing and confounding.
"Look closer," she said, pointing at the jewel-adorned gate before her.
"There's nothing—"
The words caught in Annabeth's throat as Isabella released a lance of concentrated divinity through her fingers.
Hecate had created the Mist to be malleable. All that was required to manipulate it was proof of kinship to the goddess. For the formless Mist, the energy constantly leaking from every demigod was enough.
Only when the country-spanning spell was shaped and stabilized for a prolonged period of time did brute force become necessary.
Chiron had taught her that.
"Wow," Percy breathed as the dark gate revealed itself.
The stygian iron pillars and skull-capped arch stood in stark contrast to the green hills and sunny sky of Hollywood.
"A simply yes would have sufficed," Annabeth huffed as she stepped forward.
"My apologies," Isabella retorted with a faint smile. "I was under the impression you preferred actions over words."
Annabeth clicked her tongue and turned away.
"Are you guys ready?" Percy asked, his brow creasing as he looked between them.
While he wasn't the most academically inclined, Percy could be surprisingly perceptive at times.
"I am," Annabeth said, turning Helen's ring on her finger.
"So am I," Isabella added. "We've done all we can to prepare for the Trials. It will be enough."
"Alright." Percy nodded, putting on the pair of soundproof headphones she had conjured for him.
"Let's go."
He stepped forward without hesitation, passing through the veil that led to the first guardian of Hades.
"This kelp head!" Annabeth hissed as she mirrored his actions. "I was supposed to go—"
Isabella snorted softly and followed after them.
After a bit of charmspeak, Megaera had been more than willing to tell her all about the forces guarding the Underworld's main entrance.
If their preparations failed, she would be the only thing standing between them and defeat.
Resistance to mental influence was a rare trait.
As soon as she crossed over to the other side of the veil, her gaze locked onto Percy's still form.
Her charge stood surrounded by tall trees and dense vegetation, staring intensely at the green walls encircling them.
Isabella blinked, looking at them again.
The walls were moving.
"Is that—"
"Snake!" Annabeth shouted, ripping her dagger from its sheath as she retreated toward them.
Percy's shoulder tensed as he uncapped Riptide and leveled it at the massive head of the serpent slithering toward them.
"You were wrong," Annabeth called. "The guardian isn't—"
"Down the road, no light ahead,"
A fragile voice drifted through the clearing, carried on a gentle breeze that swept across the verdant grass.
"Steps fall quite thin as thread."
The snake froze. Its jaw closed as a milky haze clouded its vertically slit eyes.
"I was there, I almost was."
The creature's head slowly withdrew into the forest. Then its body stilled, resuming its previous position.
"Close enough to feel and yet…"
The leaves littering the ground rose, dancing around the beautiful woman weaving herself into being—like bees around a flower.
The emerging nature spirit studied them closely, a mournful smile twisting her features.
"You turned too soon…"
Annabeth lowered her blade and glanced at her ring.
"It won't work!" she called. "We're immune to your voice… Eurydice."
The haunting song faded as the fabled wife of Orpheus tilted her head.
"So it would seem," Eurydice mused, sitting down on the flowery chair that bloomed beneath her.
"My husband was always the better singer."
Her gaze scanned Annabeth's form, lingering on her fingers.
"How interesting. An artifact that grants mental resistance. It has been centuries since I last encountered one."
Her brow arched as her attention shifted to Isabella.
"And you must be a daughter of Aphrodite." She tilted her head. "I don't believe I like the way you're looking at me."
Isabella crossed her arms, an unpleasant sensation stirring in her divine core.
"Good. I don't like you either."
No matter how much her siblings had tried to shove the story down her throat when she was young, she had always disliked the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice.
"You wouldn't be the first," Eurydice sighed. "To be reviled by later generations is the fate of all women married to great men."
Isabella scoffed.
"Your foolish husband has nothing to do with this."
Her eyes narrowed as she stepped forward.
"Every time I heard your story, I grew to dislike you more and more. There are few things worse than hope betrayed—and that's exactly what he did to you."
Her brows drew together as she traced the lines of Eurydice's expressionless face.
"How can you still love him?"
If he was going to look back, he should never have come for her. If he truly loved her, he would have joined her in Death.
Eurydice let out a quiet breath, breaking the tension by averting her gaze.
"It is not a story, child. It was my life."
The tips of her fingers brushed against the edges of her white chiton, held in place by a golden belt.
Her olive-colored eyes grew distant as they locked onto one of the fallen leaves hovering before her.
"Orpheus was the most romantic man I ever met." Her voice was as soft as the gentle breeze rustled her clothes. "He could no more resist looking back than he could resist attempting to save me from death himself."
A tender smile kissed her lips.
"That is why I love him."
Isabella shook her head as she took a small step back.
If people loved each other, they would do anything to stay together. Orpheus gave up on his wife after one attempt. That wasn't love.
"Orpheus died millennia ago," Annabeth spoke up as she advanced forward to stand at Isabella's left. "You said it yourself—his voice is more powerful than yours. Why are you the Gate Guardian and not he?"
Eurydice folded her hands in her lap, her gaze shifting between them before settling on Percy.
"Tell your friend there's no need for such protective measures. I will not harm you."
Annabeth rested her hand on the pommel of her dagger.
"You just tried to mind control us. Why should we trust you now?"
Eurydice raised her arm and lazily gestured toward the titanic serpent encircling them.
"If I wanted to kill you, you'd already be dead."
She leaned forward, a shadow passing across her face.
"You passed my trial. This fight is over."
Percy blinked as Isabella dismissed the headphones.
The magical construct dissolved into violet sparks.
"Did it work?" he asked slowly. "You're still you, right?"
"We are," Isabella replied, keeping her gaze fixed on the ancient spirit.
"Alright!" Percy skipped to her side. "Does that mean we can go?"
"I will not impede your passing," Eurydice chimed in, "but I urge you not to continue down this path. Only tragedy lies ahead."
"I don't recall any of us asking for your opinion, Dryad," Isabella scoffed.
"You do not have to like me to recognize the wisdom of my words, you stubborn girl. There is a reason Lord Hades has assigned me this position."
"We understand the danger," Annabeth said, her voice steady, "but we can't stop here. The fate of the world depends on it."
Slit pupils set in a sea of crimson flashed through Isabella's mind.
She still did not understand why the Olympians hid the existence of the other Pantheons from their own children.
"Whatever it is you're searching for," Eurydice continued, "you will not find it down there."
"We have to—"
"Enough."
Percy fell quiet as Isabella took his hand. His gaze dropped to their interlocked fingers.
"There's no point in talking to her," she said, stepping forward. "She cannot stop us—even if she wanted to. Her voice failed, and her pet snake would fare no better against us than any other monster we've faced on our journey here."
The trees behind Eurydice stirred as they passed her, their trunks bending into the form of a gate. A lightless veil spread between them.
"What is your problem?" Annabeth demanded, shooting Isabella a heated glance as she caught up to them. "That woman is legend. Do you have any idea how much we could learn from her?"
"That Dryad is not our ally, Annabeth," Isabella shot back, stopping before the portal. "What do you think she would have done if we failed her Trial? Tell us to leave and go home?"
Annabeth didn't respond.
Isabella raised a brow as she turned toward her.
Ever since she became the Head of House Athena at just ten years old, people had been calling Annabeth the brightest daughter of Wisdom born in generations.
She couldn't be this naive.
"Did you imagine that thing was put in here as decoration to liven up the scenery?" Isabella mocked, gesturing toward the serpent coiled nearby.
Percy gulped as he glanced at the scaled body.
"Surely she wouldn't—
"You're right," Eurydice admitted calmly. "Which is why I will offer you one last piece of advice—despite your lacking manners."
Isabella suppressed a scowl as she turned to face the nature spirit.
Her manners were impeccable.
Eurydice's form unraveled into colorful flower petals, carried away with the breeze as her voice echoed around them.
"The King of the Underworld cannot be tricked. He cannot be denied and he cannot be outsmarted. Should you attempt to do so, you shall surely die."
Percy hummed thoughtfully as the last trace of Orpheus's wife faded away.
"I vote we ignore that. We wouldn't have made it this far if we listened to warnings like that."
"Are you still set on that next part?" Annabeth asked, turning toward him. "You don't have to be the one to challenge the second trial."
"I am," Percy replied, the levity draining from his voice. "I was useless against Crusty. But this… I can do this."
Isabella stepped toward him and placed her hands on his shoulders.
"It has been some time since the Furies abandoned their post to hunt you," she said softly. "If their replacement has changed, you wait and we form a new strategy. If they've already recovered and are waiting for us down there, you retreat and I take over."
Like all divine spirits, the Furies were created by and bound to human imagination. Their existence was far more limited than the gods, but there were some advantages to their nature.
As long as humanity believed a trio of winged spirits of vengeance would punish them if they were wicked, then so would the Kindly Ones be there to serve that function.
Percy bristled, a small pout forming on his lips as he looked away.
"You worry too much, Isabella. You've seen me fight. I'm—"
She cupped his chin and guided his gaze back to hers.
"Don't get hurt. No matter what."
"I—"
His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water.
"I won't."
"Are you about done?" Annabeth asked from beside the gate. "In case you've forgotten, we're running out of time here."
Percy blinked, color rising to his cheeks as he cleared his throat.
"Relax, Wise Girl. This quest is almost finished."
Isabella's lips twitched as he headed toward the portal.
For the fated saviour—or destroyer—of Olympus, he was remarkably easy to fluster.
"You coming?" he asked, glancing back at her.
"Of course."
A small smile dawned on her face as she strode forward, joining her companions.
They stepped through the veil together.
On the other side, they emerged onto a rocky stage. Ghostly green light shone from an ivory ceiling, illuminating a derelict arena.
A thin man knelt near its center, covered with little more than a stained loincloth to preserve his dignity. Jagged pillars of stone rose from the floor to bind his spread limbs.
The tree-like gate shriveled up and sank into the ground behind them. Leaving them stranded in the space between worlds.
"Welcome, intruders."
Isabella let out a small breath as she averted her gaze from the stand in Gate Guardian to retrieve a plastic bottle from her bag.
"They told me you would come."
The man's unkempt hair fell to the side as he lifted his head, revealing two trails of blood that streaked down his cheeks. Empty sockets gaped where his eyes should've been.
"I'm glad… I was beginning to think I'd been forgotten."
"Where are the Kindly Ones?" Annabeth asked, her sharp gaze tracking his every movement. "Why haven't they returned?"
She received no answer. The man's chapped lips pressed firmly together as he hung limp in his shackle.
Percy pivoted toward Isabella, taking the water bottle she offered. His fingers tightened around it as he looked up at her.
She met his gaze and let divinity seep into her voice.
"You're not afraid.
You don't make mistakes.
You're strong.
You will beat him."
With each command, the tension drained from his shoulders like a low tide.
Her charmspeak wasn't powerful enough to assert her will over reality.
But it would guarantee that he'd fight at his absolute best.
She took a step back and gave a faint smile.
"I believe in you."
Percy's green eyes glinted as he opened the bottle and drenched himself in water.
Like all children of the sea, his power was never greater than when close to his source element.
He turned sharply and, after exchanging one last nod with Annabeth, strode toward his bound opponent.
"Pirithous—former King of the Lapiths. Hero of the Centauromachy. Closest friend to Theseus, King of Athens."
The stone bindings crumbled as Percy advanced toward him, reciting the speech they'd prepared together.
"Receive my challenge."
Pirithous' bones creaked as he straightened, his lips pulling into a twisted grin.
"I know not the man you speak of."
Percy's steps faltered. A hint of unease entering his voice.
"You're not—"
"He is," Annabeth called, loud enough to reach him. "He was submerged in the River Lethe as punishment for his crimes. He doesn't remember his own life."
Isabella paid their exchange no mind, her attention fixed on the dreadful form of the former king.
This was the fate of all who incurred the wrath of the gods—and there were few things the man could've done to anger Hades more than attempt to steal away Persephone.
"But I have heard you challenge," Pirithous added, grasping the bone sword extending from his wrist, "and I accept it."
With strength that belied his frail frame, he lunged forward and slashed at Percy's head with a horizontal strike—only to recoil as a bronze blade deflected the attack and swept toward his bare legs.
Neither the fresh wound nor his blindness hindered Pirithous as he retaliated with supernatural agility.
Isabella's chest swelled with pride as Percy exchanged a dozen strikes in as many seconds with a hero out of legends.
He'd come far in the weeks since his first duel with Luke Castellan.
Since the start of their quest, she had taken it upon herself to continue where her fellow camp leader had left off. While the sword was not her preferred weapon of choice, Chiron had personally ensured she was proficient in all forms of combat.
That was how she recognized Percy for the anomaly he was. What took others weeks to learn, he mastered in hours.
Poseidon had imbued him with power not seen among their kind since the Age of Heroes.
As Aphrodite had done for her.
"Yield," Percy growled, his voice slightly breathless as he halted his blade inches from Pirithous' throat.
The damned king's sword lay shattered at his feet.
"No."
Pirithous whipped his arm upward and spread his fingers.
In the instant it took Percy to react, five jagged bone projectiles had already launched from Pirithous' hand and pierced his chest.
Isabella instinctively stepped forward, her fingers twitching as Percy staggered back with a pained groan.
"Stop."
A firm hand on her shoulder pulled her back.
"You can't interfere," Annabeth said. "Otherwise he'll fail—and we'll be trapped down here."
Isabella stilled, then turned slowly.
It might have been Pirithous Percy was fighting, but the trial itself had been set by the Kindly Ones.
It was their rules that applied.
Any who entered Hades' domain without an invitation were considered guilty. To leave, or advance, they had to prove their innocence by defeating one of the Furies in battle.
It was a trial by combat.
"What makes you think I was about to?" Isabella asked, arching a brow.
"You obviously were."
"Was I?" She tilted her head. "Like you said, I don't care about anyone. Why would I interfere in Percy's battle?"
Annabeth rolled her eyes.
"This is hardly the time for that conversation."
"I disagree. I think this is precisely the time."
She didn't know why those words had vexed her so, but it was undeniable that they did.
She stepped closer, staring down at the younger girl.
"Admit you were wrong."
Annabeth exhaled through her nose.
"Fine. It's evident you care about him."
She met Isabella's gaze with narrowed eyes.
"I just haven't figured out why yet."
"Why wouldn't I? He's a nice boy."
"Yeah right," Annabeth scoffed. "Like there haven't been a dozen—"
"Guys!" Percy shouted, ducking beneath a bladed elbow aimed at his neck. "I can hear you!"
Riptide flashed upward, severing Pirithous' arm at the base.
"It's pretty distracting!"
His puncture wounds had healed, at the cost of the last layer of water still clinging to his body.
"I'm kind of in the middle of something here!"
The argument faded from Isabella's mind as she refocused on the battle.
Percy's movements were slower—less fluid than they were before. And yet, he was undeterred.
Pirithous roared like a wounded animal as Percy leapt over him and, midair, cut off his remaining arm.
Percy landed lightly behind him, spinning without pause as he pushed his sword close up to the second guardian's neck.
"You lost," he said quietly, nodding toward the severed limbs. "Move—and that will be your head."
The corner of Isabella's mouth lifted into a smile she couldn't suppress.
He had come far indeed.
"You're strong, boy," Pirithous said, lifting his chin, uncaring of the blade grazing his skin. "What is your name?"
Percy's shoulders eased slightly, though his grip remained firm.
"Perseus Jackson."
"I acknowledge my defeat at the hands of Perseus Jackson," Pirithous proclaimed. "And I declare you innocence."
A gate of bone rose behind him as his words echoed around the arena.
Pirithous stepped aside.
"You may pass."
Riptide shifted back into pen form as Percy whirled toward them.
"Did you see that?" he shouted, a wide grin pulling at his lips. "I won! We can leave now!"
"We did," Isabella said, studying the portal.
There was one trial left.
The most harrowing of them all.
"You misunderstand," Pirithous said as his body began to regenerate beneath a pillar of green light. "Only one of you has bested me. Only one of you shall pass."
"There is no way we're doing that." Annabeth shook her head as she turned toward Isabella. "You saw what just happened. All we need is for him to say we beat him."
Isabella nodded in agreement.
They could not afford not to be at full strength for what lay ahead.
The Mist unraveled from her face as her father's voice rang through her mind.
Not all weapons were swords and spells.
——————-
The stage for the final trial was a colossal cage.
Not too surprising, considering the Guardian of the Last Gate was the most infamous hound this side of Fenrir.
The three snarling heads of Cerberus glared at them through towering golden bars.
Ruby red eyes shone like burning embers.
The Hound of Hades was a match for Heracles himself. The mightiest of them all.
To fight him would be suicide.
"You know what to do?" Isabella asked, casting her gaze toward Annabeth.
"I do," she responded, retrieving the divine artifact in the form of a cap.
Athena had always valued her children's mind over their physical prowess—and Annabeth had not disappointed her. In her hands, the simple invisibility enchantment had become a silver bullet.
"Speed will be of the essence," Isabella continued seamlessly, handing Percy another pair of headphones.
She pulled out a vial, filled with a highly concentrated chemical compound.
Acquiring a drug powerful enough to affect a creature like Cerberus had taken them the better part of a day. And yet, it still would likely not be enough.
Beings born of the supernatural functioned on a different plane of existence than the mundane.
Her magic core thrummed to life as she wrapped her fingers around the vial and enforced the liquid inside.
"A single drop of this is enough to sedate an elephant," she said, passing it to Annabeth. "If we're lucky, it will keep him down long enough for us to reach the Gate."
Annabeth nodded curtly and put on her cap. She vanished at the same time Percy covered his ears with the headphones.
Isabella's chest rose with a slow breath as she gently pivoted toward the growling monster.
Manipulation. Domination. Temptation. Seduction.
She had not properly appreciated the gifts her mother had granted her prior to leaving the gilded cage that was Camp Half Blood.
At times, she had even resented them.
The magic she had inherited from her father, on the other hand, was more straightforward.
It was as mighty as it was mysterious.
And yet, it was her mother's gifts that had served her best throughout the course of their adventure.
Her lips parted slightly as she hummed a quiet melody, meeting the Hound's burning gaze with the gentle warmth only a daughter of love could summon.
Her voice rose into a higher pitch as she stepped closer to the golden bars.
Then she began to sing.
Her words washed over the surrounding cage like rolling waves against molten stone.
As she sang, the aggression on Cerberus' canine face lessened.
He leaned forward, his head lowering as intelligent eyes locked onto her with startling intensity.
Eurydice and her pet snake had inspired her more than she would liked to admit.
Using song as a medium to amplify and carry her charmspeak wasn't something new to her, but she had never done so with the intention of taming a monster.
Annabeth fulfilled her part of the plan before Isabella could reap the fruits of her efforts.
Cerberus's eyes fluttered shut. He swayed from side to side—then collapsed, the magically enhanced neurotoxin wreaking havoc through his system.
"It's working!" the blonde shouted, standing next to the towering Hound. "Get over here! Quick!"
Isabella's mouth snapped shut as she dismissed the headphones on Percy's head.
They leapt through the golden bars and dashed past the Last Guardian's motionless body.
"He's moving again!" Percy shouted, gesturing toward the twitching serpentine tail as they raced toward the gate. "We're not going to make it!"
They had only made it halfway across the titanic cell.
"No. We will," Isabella proclaimed, her body heating up as she pushed her magic core further than ever before. "Brace yourselves!"
A powerful gale wind slammed into them from behind, drowning out the howling of the waking Cerberus as it launched them forward.
They passed through the gate like human bullets.
Not a moment too soon.
The last thing Isabella saw as they left the trial realm behind were three snapping jaws closing in on them. Each large enough to swallow them whole with room to spare.
Her stomach churned and her breath came in short bursts as the rift closed behind them.
She still felt like a cavewoman swinging a club every time she used her magic on a large scale.
Powerful, but graceless.
"We actually made it," Annabeth whispered, sweeping her gaze across the dark realm they had crashed into. "We're in the underworld."
A ghostly riverbank sprawled before them, populated by an uncountable and ever-increasing number of wispy souls.
Isabella paid them no mind, her attention fixed onto the large boat anchored in the waters before them.
"This looks depressing," Percy said, joining Annabeth in examining their surroundings. "Is this really where we'll go after death?"
"Of course not, you seaweed brain." She clicked her tongue. "This is the path every soul takes to cross into the Underworld. We're demigods, so we're destined for Elysium."
"How do you know—"
Isabella's eyes narrowed slightly as she spotted the cloaked figure standing near the shore.
The tall man collected a coin from each soul that passed him before allowing them onto his boat.
Charon.
The Ferryman of Hades.
"There he is," she said, stepping forward, uncaring of the souls in her path.
As always, the crowd parted before her, their starstruck eyes following her like moths to a flame.
Half of her essence was the personification of beauty and desire. Simply perceiving her was enough to overwhelm the minds of most mortals.
Even the Mist could only do so much.
She had always wondered how Aphrodite managed to avoid that problem.
"Wait," Percy shouted, catching up to her. "Are we really just going to walk up to him?"
"Of course." Isabella nodded.
"Percy is right," Annabeth said. "We've done well so far because we planned and prepared for every step. This is reckless."
Isabella scoffed quietly.
As much as Athena's children liked to boast about their strategic acumen, they tended toward caution to a crippling degree.
It was why she had quickly grown to prefer Audrey over her siblings.
"It'll be fine," Isabella said, drawing closer to the shore. "Just watch. Let me do the talking."
"You can't mind control the Ferryman of Hades!" Annabeth hissed.
"Why not?" Percy asked. "Aren't you the one who always tells her to do that when you don't want to do something?"
"That's different! This—"
"Charon!" Isabella called, ignoring the bickering of her companions as she approached the cloaked figure.
"Oh my," the man said, turning his veiled head toward her. "What do we have here? A group of bold young demigods walking amongst the dead. It has been quite some time since any of your kind last passed through here."
Annabeth's words died in her throat as they cut to the front of the queue.
"What can this humble Ferryman do for the revered Blood of the Olympians?"
Isabella smiled pleasantly and gestured toward the boat.
"Ferry us to Hades."
"…Why would I do that?"
Quiet menace entered his voice.
"The living are not welcome in the Land of the Dead."
Percy stiffened, his hand inching toward his pocket.
Going by their track record, this would usually be where things escalated.
"You must have heard about the theft," Isabella said, her expression unchanged.
"Who hasn't?" Charon snorted. "Zeus has been—"
"Not the Bolt. The Helmet."
The Ferryman flinched.
"How do you know about that?" he demanded, any trace of humor absent from his voice.
Isabella's smile deepened.
Allowing their symbol of power to be stolen was an embarrassment for any god.
It was no surprise Hades would want to keep it a secret.
"I know many things," she said smoothly. "Your king will be… interested in what we have to say."
Charon didn't respond, not moving an inch as he stared at them.
He wasn't convinced. Not yet.
"Naturally, you will be rewarded," Isabella added, opening the heavy pouch she'd pulled from her bag. "We'll make it worth your while."
The Ferryman perked up as his gaze fell onto the golden drachma.
"If you truly possess such knowledge," he said slowly, "I would be doing my liege a disservice by turning you away. We'll depart as soon as—"
"No! This is wrong!"
"I'm not supposed to be here!"
"He lied to me!"
A cacophony of enraged voices shattered the calm of the riverbank.
"What's going on?" Percy asked as they turned toward the commotion.
A new group of souls had appeared among the crowd.
Charon clicked his tongue, stashing the pouch into one of his cloak's pockets while retrieving a handful of small bones from another.
"Don't concern yourselves with them," he sneered. "Not everyone is as eager to enter the Kingdom of Hades as you are."
Isabella hummed quietly as her gaze flicked between the recently dead.
They were straining against the myriad souls surrounding them. None of them bothered to make way for the noisy newcomers.
"He promised me Heaven!"
"The devil is a liar!"
"Silence, Christians!" Charon bellowed, casting the bones into the crowd.
They struck the ground and rose as fearsome skeletal soldiers, armed with swords and spears forged of dark iron.
"Did he just call them Christians?" Percy whispered. "I thought God wasn't real?"
"He isn't," Annabeth responded, her brows drawing together. "I think."
"You don't understand!" the spectral form of a beautiful redhead cried as a bone soldier advanced toward her.
"He promised! We did everything he asked!"
Isabella's lips thinned as she observed the ghastly spectacle.
As far as she knew, there was only one devil active within the domain of the Olympians.
Her fingers rose slowly and brushed against the draconic pendant at her throat.