"What do you mean we have to take a plane?" Percy wouldn't go through the airport's glass doors. "Hello, I'm the son of Poseidon! I can't get on a plane, Zeus would blast me out of the sky!" He looked like a seven year old whining about a lost toy.

   This was the protector of Olympus? Get real.

   I rolled my eyes. "I doubt that'll happen. Hello, we're on a quest to retrieve his bolt to prevent a massive war."

   He shook his head. "No way."

   "So you can single handedly take down Kronos but you can't get on one teeny tiny little airplane?" Paris teased.

  "Right," Percy agreed, "so if you'll excuse me-"

   I stepped in front of him. "Listen Wonder Boy, I did not fight the Minotaur, go all the way to Camp Half-Blood, and almost get torched by the hydra itself for you to back out on me and get scared over an airplane. You're getting on."

    "Why don't you make me?" Percy and I stood nose to nose. I raised my hand at him, blue electricity sparking on the tips of my fingers. 

    He got on the plane.

    The flight from New York City to Los Angeles was the longest I'd ever been on, verging close to six hours. Paris and I had slept through a majority of our trip but the same couldn't be said for Percy. It was weird seeing him scared; he rotated from nervously picking at his fingernails and shaking his hair out, to rearranging the inflight magazines. He did this every five minutes for the five hour and thirty-seven minute flight. I looked out of the small window, hundreds of clouds passing by. Below, I could see thousands of molecular streets leading up to one giant ocean. It was hard to believe the men who created these domains had children just like me.

    "Passengers, this is your captain speaking. We have arrived in Los Angeles California. Please make sure your seatbelt is fastened correctly and remain in your designated seat until the airplane comes to a complete stop. Once again, thank you for flying with us."

    I could hear Percy huff out a sigh of relief at the flight attendant's announcement. He took the seat closest to the edge, just in case.

   "Have you heard anything about Nico? Hades's son?" I softly asked, hoping Percy would answer. I couldn't help but wonder where Nico was, and if he'd attack again anytime soon. 

  "Last I heard they were keeping him on lockdown in his cabin." He looked at me with sympathetic eyes, trying to soothe my troubled thoughts. "As hard as it is for you to believe, Nico Di Angelo really isn't a bad guy. I've known him since he was a kid...the other day was really out of his character."

    "Do you really think it's Hades trying to start a war? Why would he do that?" I tried my best to ignore any talk about Nico Di Angelo's winning personality. He was crazy, period.

    Percy shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows together in concentration. "No way. The whole thing sounds completely bizarre. Even if Hades pulled a fast one over both Zeus and Poseidon, he'd have no one as a backbone. Nobody sides with Hades except for his wife Persephone. And even she hates the guy's guts. None of this adds up. I wouldn't really blame the guy for wanting a little more recognition on Olympus, though."

    I nodded, thinking back to the way Percy acted in the Olympian throne room. "What's with you and Zeus anyway? Why do you hate him so much?"

   "I don't hate Zeus...but it's hard to like someone who sees you as the biggest mistake on Earth. He sees my birth as an unforgivable crime, since I was conceived during the Big Three's oath."

   "But...he has Thalia and Jason. And me. I don't understand."

    "The gods aren't perfect, Orion," Percy shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Paris' sleeping head on his shoulder. "They all have different flaws and problems just like we do. They make mistakes."

    I twitched at Percy's usage of the word mistake. Was that all we were to the gods?

    Percy continued, "Zeus is just...extremely prideful. When I was born he basically forbade my father and the other gods from having contact with their children to keep them focused on their godly duties. He's tried to kill Nico and I countless times because we were conceived under the oath even when he had children of his own. He likes to hold other people accountable for their wrongdoings but refuses to acknowledge his own sometimes."

    Thunder loomed across the clear blue sky and Percy winced.

    "Maybe this isn't the best place to talk about your father's winning personality."

     I nodded. I didn't want to talk about my father anymore either.

    "Do you live with your mother then?" I changed the subject.

    "Yeah, sometimes when I'm not staying at camp. Before that I used to move around all the time from boarding school to boarding school. The older I got, the more I moved around...until I got to camp, then I was able to stay close to her and keep myself safe."

    "Are you two close?"

     Percy broke out into a goofy smile. "Insanely. My mom is an angel. She just had a baby, you know. With my step-dad, of course. Not Poseidon."

     I smiled back at Percy. The thought of him being an older brother gave me goosebumps. I tried to imagine his arms holding a small person, trying not to harm the baby's head while supporting its neck at the same time and rocking it back and forth. The baby would be completely unaware that those same arms had fought countless monsters. Would his sibling ever know Percy's true demigod identity?

    "What about you?" Percy studied me with his jade eyes.

    Before I could answer him, the plane lurched and jolted underneath us. He yelped in fear and instinctively grabbed ahold of my hand.

    I smirked. "Relax, it's just the plane landing. It's all over."

    He glanced down at our hands clasped together tightly and coughed to cover the new awkward tension in the air.

    "Yeah...I knew that."

***

    Los Angeles was exactly how one would expect it to be; crazy, loud, colorful and bursting with life. It was good to be home...kind of. This was the closest I would actually get to being home. I inhaled deeply, trying my hardest to gasp every ounce of sea breeze my lungs could hold in a single breath.

    "Chill out," Percy rolled his eyes, "you've been away from home for less than a week."

     He didn't understand. I knew he wouldn't. Percy had mentioned his nomadic lifestyle before his life at camp but I couldn't relate. I had never lived anywhere other than Santa Barbara. I wasn't used to not hearing the sound of seagulls by my balcony and the absence of the constant and steady roar of the ocean in the distance. My heart ached with every minute I was away from home.

    "So we're in Los Angeles... where exactly is the Underworld?" Paris studied her California map.

    I shrugged and looked around for any clues as to where it could be. Why would Hades chose Los Angeles of all places? California was anything but hell on earth. 

   "We need to find D.O.A Recording Studios first. That's where the nearest entrance is."

   D.O.A Recording Studios was not an actual recording studio or anything close to it. D.O.A was an acronym for Death On Arrival. From the outside it looked like a regular old shop hidden deep in the alleyways of Los Angeles. Inside, it was a totally different story. The lobby was a single, uniform color of an ugly charcoal grey and the furniture was just rows of black leather chairs. Whoever Hades's interior decorator was needed to be fired. Stat. Just standing in the room made me want to die. But the place's dull and depressing appearance wasn't enough to keep the local Los Angeles public away; it was packed. Every seat in the lobby was filled, with a line of people even trailing outside the door. Everyone was pale and looked sickly and anxious, almost like they were waiting for something. The closer I got to the people the more I realized they weren't pale. They were transparent. I could literally see right through them.

    "Are these people...dead?" I shook Percy's shoulder in front of me.

    "Very. They're the souls of living people from all over the world. This is just one of the many stops you make when you die."

    I shook my head in disbelief. "Then why are we here?"

    "Relax, I have an old friend who can get us into Club Underworld. Follow me," Percy shoved past the opaque ghouls, leading us to a tall black podium. Behind it stood a taller man who kind of reminded me of a club bouncer or a secret agent. His hair was a frosty shade of blonde, contrasting against his chocolate colored skin. He wore all black Ray Bans and a single gold hoop earring. He had on an expensive looking black silk suit, with a red rose boutonniere adorning the pocket above his where his pectoral muscle should've been.

    "Mr. Charon," Percy chided, "good to see you, sir!"

    The man's jaw nearly hit the floor. He tilted his glasses forward to study Percy, revealing his golden brown eyes. 

    "Is that little Percy Jackson? I can't believe it!" The man's accent was somewhere between British and Jamaican.

    "What brings you back here, mate?" Charon embraced Percy in a hug. I was surprised Percy could still breath afterwards.

    "Oh just on another quest into the underworld. The usual death wish. How about you? Hades ever give you that pay raise?"

    Charon chuckled. "Sure did. I was even able to buy myself a brand new suit," he gestured to it proudly, "eh? Eh? What do you think? Come on now, don't be shy."

    Percy smirked and I couldn't tell if it was because he was genuinely amused or because he was trying not to laugh. "It looks great buddy."

    "And who are these young ladies? Not dead, I presume."

    "I'm Orion and this is Paris. Nice to meet you." I gestured between my friend and I as Charon studied us behind his Ray Bans.

    "Charmed." 

   "But hey, listen," Percy tried to draw his friend's attention back to his issue. Charon leaned in closer to Percy. "We're actually trying to get into the underworld again. So if you could just...do your elevator slash boat thing, that'd be great."

    Charon stared at Percy blankly as if he didn't understand a word he'd said. Then he began to laugh. The sound bounced off every single wall in the studio, making it sound louder and more obnoxious than it really was. Every single ghost in the room turned to look at us. Their eyes were wide in either shock or horror. Maybe both.

    "You're a great laugh, mate. A great laugh. But let me ask you something, see," Charon motioned for Percy to come closer, "do I look like a charity case to you? I can't go running favors for demigods, especially if they're not dead! Die, pop back for a visit, take a spot in line, bring me back a drachma or two, and we'll talk, yeah? I'll see you in the next seventy years. Goodbye, now."

    "Alright," Percy grumbled under his breath, "time for plan two." He slung a silk pouch full of golden drachmas over the podium, spilling its contents in front of Charon.

    "Aw, come on Charon. You really thought I'd forgotten how things work around here?"

    Charon looked at us and then the bag. Then back at us. Then at the bag again before he carefully tucked it away in his inner coat pocket.

    "Come along then, you three. I don't have all day." The man held open a steel elevator door off to his left. I followed closely behind Percy. 

    The elevator itself was freezing and everything was pitch black. It felt like I was in a giant icebox. We began to slowly decend in the opposite direction of Olympus. My stomach lurched and my heart pounded heavily against my ribcage. 

    Finally, the elevator came to a smooth stop, unlike the one in the Empire State Building. This place was pitch black too, but slightly warmer. I  could hear the distant gurgle of what sounded like a stream. Then Charon clapped his hands and dozens of candles surrounding us began to ignite by themselves, one by one. We were on a stone pathway in the middle of a cave. In front of us was what looked like an ordinary creek, with one of those small boats the Italians liked to use...what were they called? Gondolas. But I had a feeling this boat ride wasn't going to be a very romantic one.

    "All aboard, everybody. Watch your step."

    "Where are we?" Paris gawked at the cave from inside the boat.

   "The River Styx, love." Charon chuckled, pushing his oar into the black waters.

    Charon warned us to keep our hands and feet inside the vehicles at all times to avoid falling into a burning river of damnation and an eternity of suffering. I took his word for it.

    The underworld itself had many dimensions to it. I thought the place was going to be dark, cavernous and engulfed in roaring flames. To my surprise, some parts of it were actually beautiful. In the middle of the dark rocky cavern, I spotted a lush green field to my far right; behind the polished brass gates its grass rippled in vivid rainbow colors and the flowers that grew in the abundant meadows were shimmering platinum and gold, despite the lack of sunshine. There were endless rows of neighborhoods built around a sparkling blue lake. In the distance you could hear sounds of laughter and even the sizzling of a barbecue. 

     "What is that place?" I whispered just loud enough for Paris to hear.

     "Elysium. It's where heroes go to die."

    Across the shore was the exact opposite. Just by looking at the place I knew it was the complete embodiment of hell. The stony pathway leading up to it glowed and flickered with heat, and steam would occasionally rise from within its cracks. A lava version of Niagara falls hung over the place, sending molten rock and ash down to the dark abyss below. I couldn't necessarily see anyone living there, but I could hear them loud and clear. It was the same, unmistakable sounds of tortured souls from my nightmares. I closed my eyes and tried to block them out until they were completely out of earshot.

    Further down the river there was a similar field to Elysium, except this one was...different. It was black. Totally pitch black. I could barely make out rows of what looked to be like wheat swaying back and forth by a gentle breeze. I thought it was silent too, but if you held your breath and listened, really listened, you could hear the anxious, nervous whispers of lost souls.

    "The Fields of Asphodel," Percy read my mind, "they're for forgotten souls. People who weren't necessarily all that bad but....weren't exactly heroes either."

    It was hard to wrap my head around standing in a dark field for all of eternity but I managed to tear my eyes from the disheartening and depressing scene as we continued to float down the River Styx.

    "Ah, here we are." Charon came to a halt in front of what looked like a combination of a mansion and a medieval castle; it could only be Hades's palace. "Your ride ends here, I'm afraid. Good luck to you, Orion Vera. You'll need it."

    Before I could ask Charon how he knew my last name, he vanished into a cloud of smoke, leaving behind the faint scent of incense.

    There was no beating around the bush. It was time to meet Hades.