The Son of Neptune (The Heroes of Olympus #2)(76)

“But if you win, you get everything,” Percy said. “If Idie, my friends will swear to leave you in peace and not take revenge. You’d have your sight back, which even Gaea won’t give you.”

The old man’s expression soured. Percy could tell he’d struck a nerve. Phineas wanted to see. As much as Gaea had given him, he resented being kept in the dark.

“If I lose,” the old man said, “I’ll be dead, unable to give you information. How does that help you?”

Percy was glad he’d talked this through with his friends ahead of time. Frank had suggested the answer.

“You write down the location of Alcyoneus’s lair ahead of time,” Percy said. “Keep it to yourself, but swear on the River Styx it’s specific and accurate. You also have to swear that if you lose and die, the harpies will be released from their curse.”

“Those are high stakes,” Phineas grumbled. “You face death, Percy Jackson. Wouldn’t it be simpler just to hand over the harpy?”

“Not an option.”

Phineas smiled slowly. “So you are starting to understand her worth. Once I have my sight, I’ll capture her myself, you know. Whoever controls that harpy…well, I was a king once. This gamble could make me a king again.”

“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” Percy said. “Do we have a deal?”

Phineas tapped his nose thoughtfully. “I can’t foresee the outcome. Annoying how that works. A completely unexpected gamble…it makes the future cloudy. But I can tell you this, Percy Jackson—a bit of free advice. If you survive today, you’re not going to like your future. A big sacrifice is coming, and you won’t have the courage to make it. That will cost you dearly. It will cost the world dearly. It might be easier if you just choose the poison.”

Percy’s mouth tasted like Iris’s sour green tea. He wanted to think the old man was just psyching him out, but something told him the prediction was true. He remembered Juno’s warning when he’d chosen to go to Camp Jupiter: You will feel pain, misery, and loss beyond anything you’ve ever known. But you might have a chance to save your old friends and family.

In the trees around the parking lot, the harpies gathered to watch as if they sensed what was at stake. Frank and Hazel studied Percy’s face with concern. He’d assured them the odds weren’t as bad as fifty-fifty. He did have a plan. Of course, the plan could backfire. His chance of survival might be a hundred percent—or zero. He hadn’t mentioned that.

“Do we have a deal?” he asked again.

Phineas grinned. “I swear on the River Styx to abide by the terms, just as you have described them. Frank Zhang, you’re the descendant of an Argonaut. I trust your word. If I win, do you and your friend Hazel swear to leave me in peace, and not seek revenge?”

Frank’s hands were clenched so tight Percy thought he might break his gold spear, but he managed to grumble, “I swear it on the River Styx.”

“I also swear,” Hazel said.

“Swear,” Ella muttered. “‘Swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon.’”

Phineas laughed. “In that case, find me something to write with. Let’s get started.”

Frank borrowed a napkin and a pen from a food truck vendor. Phineas scribbled something on the napkin and put it in his bathrobe pocket. “I swear this is the location of Alcyoneus’s lair. Not that you’ll live long enough to read it.”

Percy drew his sword and swept all the food off the picnic table. Phineas sat on one side. Percy sat on the other.

Phineas held out his hands. “Let me feel the vials.”

Percy gazed at the hills in the distance. He imagined the shadowy face of a sleeping woman. He sent his thoughts into the ground beneath him and hoped the goddess was listening.

Okay, Gaea, he said. I’m calling your bluff. You say I’m a valuable pawn. You say you’ve got plans for me, and you’re going to spare me until I make it north. Who’s more valuable to you—me, or this old man? Because one of us is about to die.

Phineas curled his fingers in a grasping motion. “Losing your nerve, Percy Jackson? Let me have them.”

Percy passed him the vials.

The old man compared their weight. He ran his fingers along the ceramic surfaces. Then he set them both on the table and rested one hand lightly on each. A tremor passed through the ground—a mild earthquake, just strong enough to make Percy’s teeth chatter. Ella cawed nervously.

The vial on the left seemed to shake slightly more than the one on the right.

Phineas grinned wickedly. He closed his fingers around the left-hand vial. “You were a fool, Percy Jackson. I choose this one. Now we drink.”

Percy took the vial on the right. His teeth were chattering.

The old man raised his vial. “A toast to the sons of Neptune.”

They both uncorked their vials and drank.

Immediately, Percy doubled over, his throat burning. His mouth tasted like gasoline.

“Oh, gods,” Hazel said behind him.

“Nope!” Ella said. “Nope, nope, nope.”

Percy’s vision blurred. He could see Phineas grinning in triumph, sitting up straighter, blinking his eyes in anticipation.

“Yes!” he cried. “Any moment now, my sight will return!”