The Demigod Diaries (The Heroes of Olympus)(25)

“You’ve earned it,” I said. “But first we’d better check on Annabeth.”

She met me at the steps of the park, grinning like crazy.

“Was that amazing?” she demanded.

“That was amazing,” I agreed. It’s hard to pull off a romantic kiss when you’re both drenched in muck, but we gave it our best shot.

When I finally came up for air, I said, “Rats.”

“Rats?” she asked.

“For the snakes,” I said. “And then—”

“Oh, gods.” She pulled out her phone and checked the time. “It’s almost five. We have to get the caduceus back to Hermes!”

The surface streets were clogged with emergency vehicles and minor accidents, so we took the subway back. Besides, the subway had rats. Without going into gruesome details, I can tell you that George and Martha helped out with the vermin problem. As we traveled north, they curled around the caduceus and dozed contentedly with bulging bellies.

We met Hermes by the Atlas statue at Rockefeller Center. (The statue, by the way, looks nothing like the real Atlas, but that’s another story.)

“Thank the Fates!” Hermes cried. “I’d just about given up hope!”

He took the caduceus and patted the heads of his sleepy snakes. “There, there, my friends. You’re home now.”

Zzzzz, said Martha.

Yummy, George murmured in his sleep.

Hermes sighed with relief. “Thank you, Percy.”

Annabeth cleared her throat.

“Oh, yes,” the god added, “and you, too, girl. I just have time to finish my deliveries! But what happened with Cacus?”

We told him the story. When I related what Cacus had said about someone else giving him the idea to steal the caduceus, and about the gods having other enemies, Hermes’s face darkened.

“Cacus wanted to cut the gods’ communication lines, did he?” Hermes mused. “That’s ironic, considering Zeus has been threatening…”

His voice trailed off.

“What?” Annabeth asked. “Zeus has been threatening what?”

“Nothing,” Hermes said.

It was obviously a lie, but I’d learned that it’s best not to confront gods when they lie to your face. They tend to turn you into small fuzzy mammals or potted plants.

“Okay…” I said. “Any idea what Cacus meant about other enemies, or who would want him to steal your caduceus?”

Hermes fidgeted. “Oh, could be any number of enemies. We gods do have many.”

“Hard to believe,” Annabeth said.

Hermes nodded. Apparently he didn’t catch the sarcasm, or he had other things on his mind. I got the feeling the giant’s warnings would come back to haunt us sooner or later, but Hermes obviously wasn’t going to enlighten us now.

The god managed a smile. “At any rate, well done, both of you! Now I must be going. So many stops—”

“There’s the small matter of my reward,” I reminded him.

Annabeth frowned. “What reward?”

“It’s our one-month anniversary,” I said. “Surely you didn’t forget.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again. I don’t leave her speechless very often. I have to enjoy those rare moments.

“Ah, yes, your reward.” Hermes looked us up and down. “I think we’ll have to start with new clothes. Manhattan sewage is not a look you can pull off. Then the rest should be easy. God of travel, at your service.”

“What is he talking about?” Annabeth asked.

“A special surprise for dinner,” I said. “I did promise.”

Hermes rubbed his hands. “Say good-bye, George and Martha.”

Good-bye, George and Martha, said George sleepily.

Zzz, said Martha.

“I may not see you for a while, Percy,” Hermes warned. “But…well, enjoy tonight.”

He made that sound so ominous, I wondered again what he wasn’t telling me. Then he snapped his fingers, and the world dissolved around us.

Our table was ready. The ma?tre d’ seated us on a rooftop terrace with a view of the lights of Paris and the boats on the River Seine. The Eiffel Tower glowed in the distance.

I was wearing a suit. I hope someone got a picture, because I don’t wear suits. Thankfully, Hermes had magically arranged this. Otherwise I couldn’t have tied the tie. Hopefully I looked okay, because Annabeth looked stunning. She wore a dark green sleeveless dress that showed off her long blond hair and her slim athletic figure. Her camp necklace had been replaced by a string of gray pearls that matched her eyes.

The waiter brought fresh-baked bread and cheese, a bottle of sparkling water for Annabeth, and a Coke with ice for me (because I’m a barbarian). We dined on a bunch of stuff I couldn’t even pronounce—but all of it was great. It was almost half an hour before Annabeth got over her shock and spoke.

“This is…incredible.”

“Only the best for you,” I said. “And you thought I forgot.”

“You did forget, Seaweed Brain.” But her smile told me she wasn’t really mad. “Nice save, though. I’m impressed.”

“I have my moments.”

“You certainly do.” She reached across the table and took my hand. Her expression turned serious. “Any idea why Hermes acted so nervous? I got the feeling something bad was happening on Olympus.”