vi. trapped

*    *    *

IT'S ANNABETH'S IDEA. Thea refused to pay and Annabeth didn't push it. Because Thea has limited money, and she isn't wasting hundreds on a ride to Los Angeles.

When they get into the taxi the driver gives them one look and it's clear what he's thinking. "That's three hundred miles. For that, you gotta pay upfront."

"You accept casino debit cards?" Annabeth asks.

He shrugs. "Some of 'em. Same as credit cards. I gotta swipe 'em through first."

Annabeth hands him her green LotusCash card and he looks at it skeptically. "Swipe it," she invites.

He does.

His meter starts rattling. The lights flash wildly. After nearly a minute an infinity symbol comes up next to the dollar sign, something that isn't even possible.

The cigar falls out of the driver's mouth. He looks back at them wide-eyed. "Where to in Los Angeles . . .uh, Your Highness?"

"The Santa Monica Pier." Annabeth sits up straight. Gross, she likes being called that. "Get us there fast, and you can keep the change."

She probably shouldn't have told him that. He never goes below ninety-five the whole way through the Mojave Desert. Which is rather annoying, since Thea's doing her best to nap. Realistically, she knows she should stay awake. The three of them should talk and reveal some information they probably forgot because that seems to be their style. Even if she wants to know, it doesn't really matter.

Ever since Thea was turned to stone, she's been tired. It's as if she was never meant to be wake up from her prison, that the Fates didn't mean for it to happen, and they're punishing her with a crippling yearning for sleep. Thea isn't sure why it's happening, but she sleeps despite it. Even if she has nightmares, sleep is the most relaxed she ever feels. There are no worries, no people--just blank.

For once Thea doesn't have a nightmare, and when she's shaken awake by Annabeth, she feels replenished.

"Let's go," Annabeth says, "we're here."

The sun is already starting to set.

"Alright, alright."

Thea stretches as she gets out, and with a groan, she straps her bag and sword back onto her back. She's used to the weight, but even she knows there's no way it's good for her back.

Santa Monica is beautiful. It looks like the movies, and it smells bad, but Thea can't find it in herself to care. Carnival rides line the Pier, palm trees line the sidewalks, and people are surfing, waiting for the perfect wave. Thea wants to jump into the ocean and swim until she can't breathe, but she doesn't.

They walk down to where the water is and Thea stands right where the tide rolls in, the rubber which wets the rubber soles of her boots.

"This is awesome," she says. "This is so much better than I imagined.

"Wait," Grover says. "Have you never been to the beach before?"

"No." Thea shrugs as she breathes in the salty air. "I didn't really have much time when I was constantly running for my life. I saw some cool scenery, though."

"Thea—"

Percy steps knee-deep into the water.

"Percy?" Annabeth says. "What are you doing?"

He keeps walking, up to his waist, then his chest.

"You know how polluted that water is?" she yells. "There's all kinds of toxic—"

"I would go after him," Thea interjects, "but I have a feeling I won't catch him."

"If you've never been to the ocean, do you even know how to swim?" Grover asks.

"Of course I know how to swim!" She frowns as she bends down to touch the water. "Behind my house, there was a lake. It was huge. Ever since I was a baby, my mom taught me how to swim. She called me her little minnow, she always said she'd never seen anyone swim that fast."

Annabeth almost put her hand on her shoulder, but she decided against it. "My dad called me his little bookworm, because even though I had a hard time reading since it was in English, I still read books faster than he did."

"You're lucky," Thea says. "I know your dad's an asshole to you, but you don't know how much longer you have left. Even if you can't fix things with him, try to. So you won't regret it later. And if he still sucks, then it's okay."

"I—I might."

"You should."

Thea brings her other hand down into the water and bites her lip, stifling a cry. Her hand is wrapped in a bandage, and she knows she has to properly clean it eventually, but she knows it's going to hurt awfully when she does. At least one finger is broken, not to mention everything torn. One of her fingernails is completely gone, she saw it before she hastily wrapped it up.

"Oh my gods, I forgot about your hand," Annabeth says, bending down to look at it. "Is it alright? Do you need ambrosia?"

"I—I'm fine. I try not to use ambrosia, I don't like how it makes me feel."

"Just take some. I know it hurts."

She scowls but still does so. Ambrosia tastes heavenly, like her mother's amazing macaroni and cheese. It makes her chest ache worse than her hand.

"Once Percy gets back and we can find someplace to stop for a few minutes, we're re-bandaging your hand."

"Really, Annabeth, it's—"

The girl flicks her hand and Thea yelps in pain. "What the shit, dude!"

"It's going to get infected, and you know it. If we go to the Underworld, we're going to need you."

"Oh, you're going to need me?"

Annabeth scoffs as she crosses her arms. "Ugh, you're such a brat, Thea!"

"Sure, sure." She gets to her feet, feeling ten times better, like she can take on a god. "Does anyone know what he's doing? I get he's connected to the sea, but walking in like that is weird. Even for Percy."

"Maybe it's the Nereid?" Grover suggests. "She did say to go to Santa Monica, right?"

"Yeah." Annabeth looks nervously toward the water. "But why, though? I still don't understand. I can't—would his father meet him here?"

Thea shrugs, her eyes slightly wide. "I know a lot about the gods, but I haven't met that many, and I certainly haven't met Percy's father. But, honestly? The gods don't ever see their kids, or speak to them. Maybe it's different, since he's, you know, not supposed to exist."

"You know about the agreement?"

"Duh, my mom was descended from Hecate, remember?" Thea looks down at her injured hand. "She knew the godly world better than some demigods—don't look at me like that, it's a long story. So of course I knew about the agreement."

It isn't that long of a story. Her mom worked for some of the gods when they called upon her, amounting to dozens of favors and high respect, or as much as any god would give. But Thea can't bring herself to talk about it. She can't bring herself to talk about much of anything.

Percy appears a few feet from them, entirely dry, with something clutched tightly in his right fist.

"Percy!" Thea says. "What the hell? You could have been eaten by a monster!"

He goes to respond before he stops short and smirks. "Wait, do you actually care if I die? Oh my gods, I think I drowned."

She huffs. "I should have never went with you guys."

"Percy," Annabeth says, "what were you doing down there? What took so long?"

"There was a Nereid," he says, "the one from the river. She said that I had a . . . a great and terrible future ahead of me if I lived that long, told by oracles, I think? And that my dad wouldn't let me die before my time, so she gave me these." He opens his hand to reveal four small, shiny white pearls. "She said whenever we're in need to smash one at our feet. Whatever that means."

Annabeth grimaces. "No gift comes without a price."

"They were free."

"No." She shakes her head. "'There is no such thing as a free lunch.' That's an ancient Greek saying that translated pretty well into English. There will be a price. You wait."

"Dang," Thea sighs. "That sucks. So, are we going to the Underworld or not?"

Grover looks at her warily, like she'll grow a third arm any minute. "Is it just me or does she sound excited?"

"I-I'm not excited!" she protests. "I just haven't been there before! I mean, who doesn't want to go to the Underworld?"

No one wants to go to the Underworld, it's an awful place.

*    *    *

THEY TAKE A bus to West Hollywood, which Thea still refuses to pay for. After they get off the bus, they look in phone books and ask people on the street, but no one recognizes DOA Recording Studios, just like she expected. It's a front, mortals will see it and forget it mere seconds later.

Once it gets dark, the others start to get nervous. Thea isn't nervous—she feels sick, a crippling wave of deja vu hitting her. It feels just like before—before she was been turned to stone by Medusa, before them—when she was on the street. She slept in alleyways, hotels when she felt safe enough, in woods and forests, in stolen cars. But the feeling is the same, the same as she feels right now.

Alone, hungry, and missing her mother more than ever. And wishing her father would give her some sort of sign.

The people they pass are familiar too. She's never met them before, but they're the same characters she found herself surrounded with before. Homeless, drug dealers, and the occasional scrawny teenager looking to score a few bucks off of someone miraculously smaller than them.

As they hurry past the entrance of an alley, a voice whispers from the darkness, "Hey you."

Thea doesn't think twice, she keeps—but, no, Percy is a no-good-idiot, and he stops like someone blew a dog whistle. For a New Yorker, he has zero common sense.

They're surrounded in less than two seconds. Six teenagers, all in expensive white clothing, their faces twisted into the meanest looks they can muster. Thea wants to wipe that look off their face. They're rich, why do they need to mug people?

Percy instinctively uncaps Riptide and the kids back off. They're seeing some sort of weapon they don't look eager to try to overpower. But their designated leader is either stupidly brave or dim, because he comes toward them with a switchblade. Before Thea can move to disarm him, Percy slashes at the kid. And it goes right through him.

The teen looks down with wide, shocked eyes. "What the . . ."

Thea is paralyzed for a brief second before she yanks the closest person, who happens to be Grover, and yells at them to run. Thea kicks at the knees of the two kids standing in their way and races down the street, Annabeth only a few inches behind her.

When they turn a sharp corner, Annabeth grabs her arm, nearly making her fall flat on her face in the process. "There!" she shouts.

Only one store on the block looks open, the light shining through like a mysterious beacon of hope. The sign on the door is jumbled in Thea's brain from the thin neon lettering, but she makes out the word 'Crusty,' which she's sure must be a mistake.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translates, sounding skeptical.

"I don't think we should go in there," Thea says as they start to inch their way over. "I've run from a lot of scary people on the street, and trust me, almost every time I tried to hide in a store or restaurant it was filled with monsters. Demigods don't have great luck."

"Well, we don't have much of a choice," Annabeth hisses. "Do you want to get stabbed with a switchblade?"

"I mean, maybe, switchblade is one of the weapons I haven't been stabbed with yet."

"You're insufferable!"

And with that, Percy yanks her into the store and they duck behind a water bed. If Annabeth and Percy pitch in, they can take them, Thea's done it before. But she knows staying here is safe for the time being. Safer than going out there.

The kids run by the window and Thea lets out a breath of relief. "I think we lost them," Grover pants.

"Lost who?"

They all jump.

Standing behind them is a man who reminds her of a reptile if it could wear a leisure suit. He's easily seven feet tall, has no hair, with gray, leathery skin and a cold, unnerving smile. He walks toward them slowly, but Thea's got the awful feeling that he can move much faster than that.

"I'm crusty," he says, flashing a smile that shows his yellowed teeth.

"Sorry to barge in," Percy tells him. "We're just, um, browsing."

"You mean hiding from those no-good kids," he grumbles. "They hang around every night. I get a lot of people in here, thanks to them. Say, you want to look at a water bed?"

Thea wants to say no, you creepy old man, but Crusty steers Percy further into the store with one of his giant hands, and she has no choice but to follow. If it wasn't for Crusty, she would have found the place amazing. It has every kind of bed, ones she hasn't even seen before, or ones so large it can fit an entire car on it.

"This is my most popular model." Crusty spreads his hands proudly over a bed with black-satin sheets and built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrates, which makes it look like a lake rippling at night.

"Million-hand massage," Crusty tells them. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, anyway.

"Um," Percy says, "I don't think--"

"Million hand massage!" Grover cries as he dives in. "Oh, you guys! This is so cool."

"Hmm," Crusty says as he strokes his leathery chin. "Almost."

"Almost what?" Percy asks.

Suddenly, Thea's spine straightens and she turns to the right, almost robotic, and walks toward a bed in the corner of the store. It seems colder over here, as if the air conditioner only runs in that one spot. The bed is small, only twin-size, with a black headboard that's carved with intricate designs of what might be snakes, or vines, or waves. The mattress doesn't have sheets, or a comforter, a waterbed with something black and mirky within it that discolors the mattress.

It's practically whispering her name. She can almost hear it. Althea, Althea, Al—

No one but her mother and monsters call her Althea.

"Guys!" she cries out. "Ru--"

A rope comes out of the headboard and wraps around her wrist with bone-crushing force. She yelps and desperately pulls at it, yanking with all her might as she kicks the mattress to free herself. The others start to scream in protest, and Thea tries to look behind her, but another rope wraps around her neck and yanks her forward, crushing her back into the bed, forcing her to look at the ceiling as more wrap around the rest of her body.

"I-I'm stuck!" she yells. "I'm stuck! Help me!"

She thrashes wildly, the bed rippling dangerously under her as she cries out, the rope pulling so hard against her skin that she starts to bleed.

"Stop it, girl!" Crusty yells from across the store. "You'll break it!"

"Let me out!" she screams, her eyes squeezed shut as she thrashes. "You can't do this to me! Let me out!"

"Shut up, child!"

"Let me out!" she screams, her voice sounding loud—raging. "I said, let me out!"

The bed bursts beneath her, the ropes snapping apart as they vaporize from a liquid that quickly vanishes. Crusty topples back into a bed, looking horrified and angry as he points desperately at the bed. "You—you broke it!" he cries. "You broke the bed! That was for a high-paying customer, young lady!"

"Tough shit," she hisses. "No one's killing me again. Especially not some lizard-looking bastard."

Percy is standing there, slightly wide-eyed, Riptide in hand. "Uh, Thea . . .?"

She doesn't know what's going on, not really. All she knows is that there is a burning—consuming—rage filling her chest, so hot it feels like it will melt right through her. All she can think is how dare he do that to them and how dare he try to kill her after she just came back.

Thea doesn't know what comes over her. In one quick, clean slash of her sword, Crusty is nothing but dust, and one of his silver chain necklaces hangs on the tip of her sword like a trophy. Her lips twist in dismay, but she lets it slip down her sword, into her hand, and puts it around her neck.

"Wow," Percy breathes out. "That was . . ."

"Awesome?"

"Terrifying." He blushes. "But, yeah, it was awesome too."

"Hello!" Annabeth yells, struggling against the ropes. "Still trapped here!"

"Oh, yeah—right, right."

Thea and Percy hurry to untie them and slash at the ropes with their swords. Thea tries not to think about what Crusty was tying them down to the bed for, and if it had anything to do with the suspicious "almost."

As they sit, trying to catch their breath, Thea stares at the bed in the corner, the deflated one that has a rip right in the middle. She doesn't know what was inside of it, why it was calling her name, or who the client was. Maybe it was her father. Maybe it was someone else. She isn't sure which is worse.

"Come on," Percy says.

"Give us a minute," Grover complains. "We were just almost hog-tied to death."

"Goat-tied," Thea corrects absentmindedly, but it lacks her usual sneer.

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," Percy says, ignoring her. "It's only a block from here."

Thea's head snaps up and her grip tightens on her sword. The Underworld is only a block from here. Finally.