“What? Are you crazy? Let’s get out of here.”
“Medusa is a menace. She’s evil. I’d kill her myself, but…” Annabeth swallowed, as if she were about to make a difficult admission. “But you’ve got the better weapon. Besides, I’d never get close to her. She’d slice me to bits because of my mother. You—you’ve got a chance.”
“What? I can’t—”
“Look, do you want her turning more innocent people into statues?”
She pointed to a pair of statue lovers, a man and a woman with their arms around each other, turned to stone by the monster.
Annabeth grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. “A polished shield would be better.” She studied the sphere critically. “The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection’s size should be off by a factor of—”
“Would you speak English?”
“I am!” She tossed me the glass ball. “Just look at her in the glass. Never look at her directly.”
“Hey, guys!” Grover yelled somewhere above us. “I think she’s unconscious!”
“Roooaaarrr!”
“Maybe not,” Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.
“Hurry,” Annabeth told me. “Grover’s got a great nose, but he’ll eventually crash.”
I took out my pen and uncapped it. The bronze blade of Riptide elongated in my hand.
I followed the hissing and spitting sounds of Medusa’s hair.
I kept my eyes locked on the gazing ball so I would only glimpse Medusa’s reflection, not the real thing. Then, in the green tinted glass, I saw her.
Grover was coming in for another turn at bat, but this time he flew a little too low. Medusa grabbed the stick and pulled him off course. He tumbled through the air and crashed into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful “Ummphh!”
Medusa was about to lunge at him when I yelled, “Hey!”
I advanced on her, which wasn’t easy, holding a sword and a glass ball. If she charged, I’d have a hard time defending myself.
But she let me approach—twenty feet, ten feet.
I could see the reflection of her face now. Surely it wasn’t really that ugly. The green swirls of the gazing ball must be distorting it, making it look worse.
“You wouldn’t harm an old woman, Percy,” she crooned. “I know you wouldn’t.”
I hesitated, fascinated by the face I saw reflected in the glass—the eyes that seemed to burn straight through the green tint, making my arms go weak.
From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, “Percy, don’t listen to her!”
Medusa cackled. “Too late.”
She lunged at me with her talons.
I slashed up with my sword, heard a sickening shlock!, then a hiss like wind rushing out of a cavern—the sound of a monster disintegrating.
Something fell to the ground next to my foot. It took all my willpower not to look. I could feel warm ooze soaking into my sock, little dying snake heads tugging at my shoelaces.
“Oh, yuck,” Grover said. His eyes were still tightly closed, but I guess he could hear the thing gurgling and steaming. “Mega-yuck.”
Annabeth came up next to me, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa’s black veil. She said, “Don’t move.”
Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster’s head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice.
“Are you okay?” she asked me, her voice trembling.
“Yeah,” I decided, though I felt like throwing up my double cheeseburger. “Why didn’t…why didn’t the head evaporate?”
“Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war,” she said. “Same as your minotaur horn. But don’t unwrap the head. It can still petrify you.”
Grover moaned as he climbed down from the grizzly statue. He had a big welt on his forehead. His green rasta cap hung from one of his little goat horns, and his fake feet had been knocked off his hooves. The magic sneakers were flying aimlessly around his head.
“The Red Baron,” I said. “Good job, man.”
He managed a bashful grin. “That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun.”
He snatched his shoes out of the air. I recapped my sword. Together, the three of us stumbled back to the warehouse.
We found some old plastic grocery bags behind the snack counter and double-wrapped Medusa’s head. We plopped it on the table where we’d eaten dinner and sat around it, too exhausted to speak.
Finally I said, “So we have Athena to thank for this monster?”
Annabeth flashed me an irritated look. “Your dad, actually. Don’t you remember? Medusa was Poseidon’s girlfriend. They decided to meet in my mother’s temple. That’s why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her two sisters who had helped her get into the temple, they became the three gorgons. That’s why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She’s still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him.”
My face was burning. “Oh, so now it’s my fault we met Medusa.”
Annabeth straightened. In a bad imitation of my voice, she said: “‘It’s just a photo, Annabeth. What’s the harm?’”
“Forget it,” I said. “You’re impossible.”
“You’re insufferable.”
“You’re—”
“Hey!” Grover interrupted. “You two are giving me a migraine, and satyrs don’t even get migraines. What are we going to do with the head?”
I stared at the thing. One little snake was hanging out of a hole in the plastic. The words printed on the side of the bag said: WE APPRECIATE YOUR BUSINESS!
I was angry, not just with Annabeth or her mom, but with all the gods for this whole quest, for getting us blown off the road and in two major fights the very first day out from camp. At this rate, we’d never make it to L.A. alive, much less before the summer solstice.
What had Medusa said?
Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue.
I got up. “I’ll be back.”
“Percy,” Annabeth called after me. “What are you—”
I searched the back of the warehouse until I found Medusa’s office. Her account book showed her six most recent sales, all shipments to the Underworld to decorate Hades and Persephone’s garden. According to one freight bill, the Underworld’s billing address was DOA Recording Studios, West Hollywood, California. I folded up the bill and stuffed it in my pocket.
In the cash register I found twenty dollars, a few golden drachmas, and some packing slips for Hermes Overnight Express, each with a little leather bag attached for coins. I rummaged around the rest of the office until I found the right-size box.
I went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa’s head, and filled out a delivery slip:
The Gods
Mount Olympus
600th Floor,
Empire State Building
New York, NY
With best wishes,
PERCY JACKSON