Percy Jackson: The Son of Kronos

Chapter 8: The Gateway to Danger

The two-day train ride west felt like an uneasy truce, a fragile pause between battles. Percy spent most of his time on edge, feeling exposed in the long Amtrak cars as if he were a target in plain sight. Though there were no immediate threats, he couldn't shake the sensation of being watched. Perhaps it was paranoia, or perhaps it was something more sinister. Either way, he didn't let his guard down.

Instead of lounging around, Percy made a habit of pacing the train's aisles. He kept watch for anything unusual outside the windows, his sea-green eyes scanning the fields, rivers, and small towns that flickered past.

Once, his vigilance was rewarded—or perhaps punished. In a distant wheat field, he spotted a family of centaurs galloping with bows at the ready, hunting their next meal. The smallest of them, a young boy no larger than a child on a pony, waved in Percy's direction. Percy didn't return the gesture, instead scanning the train car to see if any mortals had noticed. As expected, they were oblivious, absorbed in their laptops or magazines.

Later, nearing dusk, something far more unsettling caught his attention. A massive, golden creature moved through the shadows of a forest, its coat gleaming as it leapt gracefully between the trees. Percy's stomach churned. It was too large to be a normal lion and too fluid to be anything mundane. His grip tightened on the armrest, but the creature disappeared before he could get a better look.

When he shared his observations with Annabeth, she seemed skeptical. "A Nemean lion, maybe," she mused, her gray eyes narrowing. "But it's odd for it to show itself like that. You sure you weren't imagining things?"

"I don't imagine things," Percy said firmly, his tone cool. "You should know that by now."

Annabeth didn't argue further, but Percy could see the gears turning in her head. She didn't trust what she couldn't explain, but Percy wasn't concerned about her doubts. He was concerned about what might be waiting for them further west.

The nights on the train were far from restful. Their seats were cramped, and the lack of a sleeper car meant Percy's neck grew stiff from trying to find a comfortable position. Grover snored loudly, occasionally mumbling about vegetables and shedding his fake foot, which Annabeth and Percy had to hastily reattach before anyone noticed.

Annabeth, ever observant, seemed to watch Percy more than she slept. At one point, after Grover shifted into a quieter position, she broke the silence. "You were mumbling in your sleep," she said, her voice soft but probing.

Percy's eyes flicked toward her, his expression guarded. "Was I?"

"You said, 'I won't help you.' Who were you talking to?"

He hesitated, considering whether to share the dream he'd had. It was the second time he'd heard the slightly familiar voice—the sinister one that echoed from the depths , promising his mother in exchange for his loyalty. Percy rarely spoke about things he couldn't control, but Annabeth's piercing gaze made lying seem pointless.

"Something's been calling to me," he admitted, his voice low. "A voice from a pit. It wants me to help it rise, and it offered my mom in return."

Annabeth's expression darkened. She leaned closer, her tone now laced with concern. "That doesn't sound like Hades. He doesn't laugh like that, and he's never subtle. If it's him, why would he need your help to rise? He's already got the master bolt—assuming he's the thief."

Percy shrugged, though his thoughts churned with unease. "I don't know. I am not even sure whether Hades actually stole the bolt as it seems like too easy a conclusion."

Annabeth considered this, her fingers instinctively reaching for the necklace she wore. She pinched one of the clay beads between her fingers—a small token painted with the image of a pine tree. Percy noticed the faint glimmer of her father's gold college ring on the chain, but before he could ask about it, she spoke again.

"Whoever it is, you can't bargain with them, Percy. And if it is Hades, you should know that Hades doesn't deal in fair trades. If you even consider accepting a deal, he'll twist it against you."

The edge in her voice caught Percy's attention. "You've dealt with him before?"

She hesitated, her gray eyes shadowed. "Let's just say I've had my share of run-ins with the Lord of the Dead. He's not someone you can trust."

Percy didn't press further, sensing her discomfort. Instead, he shifted the conversation. "What would you do if it was your dad?"

Annabeth's jaw tightened, her voice hard. "I'd leave him to rot."

Her bluntness surprised him, and his brows furrowed. "You don't mean that."

"I do," she said, her eyes locking onto his. "My dad resented me from the moment I was born. He didn't want a demigod daughter. When I was five, he remarried and started a new family—one that didn't include me. Eventually, I got the message and left."

Percy didn't respond. Her words, though spoken with conviction, were laced with pain.

The next day, the rhythmic clatter of the train's wheels filled the cabin as Percy, Annabeth, and Grover settled into their seats on the Amtrak bound west. The dim glow of the overhead lights softened the edges of their faces, and Percy used the flickering shadows to his advantage. He leaned back casually, his arms stretched over the backrest, appearing relaxed and confident—two qualities he knew Annabeth respected.

Annabeth, seated across from him, was engrossed in a book titled The Architecture of Ancient Greece. Percy pretended not to notice but occasionally let his gaze linger on her, carefully observing her expressions. The focus in her gray eyes, the way her lips pursed when she found a particularly fascinating fact, and the slight furrow of her brow as she flipped pages—it all gave her an air of determination he found intriguing.

Grover sat beside Annabeth, munching nervously on a tin of recycled aluminum cans. His eyes darted between the two of them and occasionally out the window, as if he expected Zeus to hurl a lightning bolt at their train any second.

"Annabeth," Percy said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, casual. "What's your deal with architecture? You've been nose-deep in that book for hours."

Annabeth looked up, her expression slightly defensive at first, but it softened when she saw his genuine curiosity. "I want to be an architect when I grow up. Build something like the Parthenon. ," she replied, closing the book slightly but keeping her finger between the pages. "The Greeks designed their cities with defense and functionality in mind. Every structure served a purpose. Take the Parthenon, for example—"

She paused, her eyes searching Percy's face for signs of boredom, but he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Go on," he prompted, his tone encouraging.

That seemed to catch her off guard. Most people tuned out when she got too deep into history or architecture, but Percy's interest seemed sincere. Her lips quirked into a small smile, and she continued, "The Parthenon wasn't just a temple; it was a symbol of Athenian power and ingenuity. Its columns were designed to look straight even though they're slightly curved. It's brilliant."

"Sounds like a lot of work to make something look perfect," Percy said, tilting his head. "But I guess perfection's your thing, huh?"

Annabeth's cheeks flushed faintly, and she quickly looked down at her book. "It's not about perfection," she said, though her tone lacked conviction. "It's about achieving something that lasts."

"Like your dream to build something great," Percy said, his voice softening just enough to sound thoughtful. "You'll get there, Annabeth. I know you will."

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, a glimmer of surprise and gratitude shining in them. Percy held her gaze just long enough for her to notice before leaning back again, breaking the moment. He didn't press further; that would come later. Right now, he wanted to plant the seeds—just enough to make her start seeing him in a new light.

Grover cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Uh, so... what's the plan when we reach St. Louis?"

Annabeth looked relieved to shift the conversation. "We'll stop at the Gateway Arch. This is probably one of the only chances I'll get to see it"

Percy nodded, but his thoughts lingered on Annabeth. The train ride had given him a glimpse of how her mind worked, and he knew he could use that to his advantage. She valued intelligence, ambition, and vision—qualities he could easily mirror.

He leaned his head back against the seat, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. By the time this quest was over, Annabeth Chase wouldn't just trust him—she'd look up to him. And that was the first step toward bringing her fully under his influence.

The train sped on through the night, its destination drawing closer with every passing mile.

The next day, the trio arrived in St. Louis under a clear blue sky. The city buzzed with energy, and tourists milled about the grounds surrounding the Gateway Arch. The massive stainless-steel structure gleamed in the sunlight, its curved shape a stark contrast against the rectangular buildings nearby. Percy craned his neck to take it all in, marveling at how it seemed to defy gravity.

Annabeth stood beside him, hands on her hips, her gray eyes alight with excitement. "Isn't it incredible?" she said. "It's the tallest arch in the world—630 feet high. Designed by Eero Saarinen. They started construction in 1963, and it was finished in—"

"1965," Percy finished, flashing her a grin. "I actually read something, believe it or not."

Annabeth blinked in surprise, then smirked. "Maybe there's hope for you yet."

"Hey, I'm full of surprises," Percy said, his tone light but layered with subtle intent. "You just have to stick around long enough to find out."

Annabeth's smirk softened into something more genuine, and she glanced away, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Percy felt a small surge of satisfaction. Step by step, he was breaking through her walls.

"Come on, guys," Grover said, interrupting the moment. "We should probably keep moving. This place feels... weird."

Percy glanced at Grover. The satyr's usual nervousness seemed heightened, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his backpack. Percy didn't sense anything out of the ordinary, but he'd learned to trust Grover's instincts when it came to danger. Still, they couldn't just skip the Arch—Annabeth wouldn't let that happen.

They bought tickets for the ride to the top, and soon they were crammed into a tiny, egg-shaped elevator pod. 

Percy's first thought as he and his companions were crammed into the tiny elevator was how vulnerable they were. The car was too small, the walls too close, and the only escape was up or down—neither an appealing option. He scanned their fellow passenger, a rotund woman whose denim dress and floppy hat made her seem harmless at first glance. But her Chihuahua, nestled in her lap with a rhinestone collar, was anything but. The creature's beady eyes gleamed with a malicious intelligence, and Percy didn't trust it for a second.

The elevator began its ascent, moving in a strange curve that made Percy's stomach churn. He tensed, gripping the railing as if it might steady more than just his body. Annabeth, beside him, appeared composed, though he caught the subtle flick of her eyes toward their traveling companion—a silent assessment that Percy mirrored.

"No parents?" the woman asked, her voice saccharine but sharp. Her pointy, coffee-stained teeth flashed as she smiled, and her gaze lingered on each of them just a little too long.

"They're below," Annabeth said smoothly. "Scared of heights."

"Oh, the poor darlings," the woman cooed. Her Chihuahua growled softly, its lips curling to reveal tiny, needle-sharp teeth.

"Now, now, Sonny. Behave," the woman chided, patting the dog's head with a hand adorned in cheap rings.

Percy's brows furrowed. There was something unsettling about both the woman and her dog, as if they were more than they appeared. He didn't trust her sugary demeanor or the way her eyes darted between him and Annabeth, as though sizing them up.

"Sonny?" Percy asked cautiously, his tone polite but probing. "Is that his name?"

"No," the woman said with a too-wide smile, as if her cryptic response clarified everything.

Percy exchanged a glance with Annabeth. She gave the faintest shake of her head—a silent warning to let it go. Percy complied, though his instincts screamed that something was off. He focused instead on their surroundings.

The elevator car felt impossibly small, the air thick with the woman's cloying perfume and the Chihuahua's faint scent of wet fur. Percy kept his posture relaxed, but his senses were on high alert, cataloging every detail: the slow curve of their ascent, the rhythm of the machinery, and the way the woman's smile never quite reached her eyes.

As they continued upward, Percy fought to suppress the unease building in his chest. The Arch itself didn't bother him—he could handle heights. It was the confined space, the strange woman, and the oppressive weight of his instincts screaming danger.

"Everything okay?" Annabeth asked under her breath, her voice so quiet only he could hear.

"For now," Percy muttered back, his tone measured.

But his grip tightened on the railing, and his sea-green eyes stayed locked on the woman and her unnervingly watchful Chihuahua. He didn't know what would happen when they reached the top, but he'd learned to trust his instincts. And right now, they were telling him to be ready for anything.

 When they reached the top, Percy stepped out onto the observation deck and walked to the narrow windows. The view was breathtaking—St. Louis stretched out in every direction, the Mississippi River glinting like a ribbon of silver. Annabeth joined him, her eyes scanning the horizon with an intensity that Percy found captivating.

"It's beautiful," she murmured.

"Yeah," Percy agreed, though his gaze wasn't on the view. Annabeth caught him staring and raised an eyebrow. He quickly looked away, feigning interest in the river. "I mean, the view's great, but I wouldn't want to live in a giant metal arch. Seems impractical."

Annabeth rolled her eyes but smiled. "You're impossible."

"Impossible to ignore," Percy shot back, grinning. Annabeth didn't respond, but her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink.

Grover cleared his throat. "So, uh, should we head back down now? I'm getting bad vibes up here."

"Relax, Grover," Percy said. "What could possibly go wrong?"

Annabeth sighed. "Never say that, Seaweed Brain. You're just asking for trouble."

She and Grover stepped back toward the elevator, and Percy followed. However, when they reached the elevator pods, a uniformed attendant held up a hand. "Sorry, folks. Only two per pod. Safety regulations."

"I'll catch the next one," Percy offered.

Annabeth hesitated but nodded. "Don't take too long."

As the doors closed behind Annabeth and Grover, Percy leaned against the glass wall, enjoying the brief moment of solitude. But the silence didn't last. A low growl rumbled from behind him, sending a chill down his spine.

"Hello, little hero," a voice hissed, cold and serpentine. Percy turned slowly, his hand instinctively reaching for Riptide. Standing near the opposite window was the rotund woman who suddenly had reptilian features—scales glimmering faintly under her skin and slit-pupiled eyes that burned with malice. Beside her crouched a massive, lion-like creature with a serpent's tail and a goat's head protruding from its back—the Chimera and it looked a lot like the Chihuahua she had previously.

Percy's heart raced, but he forced a smirk. "Great. I get the pleasure to meet the Echidna I am guessing.The Mother of Monsters ,lucky me."

Echidna's lips curled into a predatory smile. "You should feel honored, child of Poseidon. Today, you'll learn what it means to face true terror."

Percy tightened his grip on Riptide, his muscles coiled for the fight he knew was coming. "Bring it on."

The Chimera lunged at Percy with a roar that rattled the metal walls of the observation deck. Its lion's jaws snapped inches from his face as he rolled to the side, barely avoiding the attack. His heart pounded as he drew Riptide, the celestial bronze blade gleaming in the sunlight streaming through the windows.

"I've faced scarier things than you," Percy quipped, trying to mask his rising panic.

The Chimera snarled, its serpent tail whipping toward him like a lash. Percy ducked, the tail shattering a section of the observation window behind him. Wind howled through the jagged hole, and Percy spared a quick glance downward—the Mississippi River seemed impossibly far below. One wrong move, and he wouldn't just lose the fight; he'd fall to his death.

Echidna stood to the side, watching the fight with an unnerving calm. "You should be grateful," she hissed. "Few demigods live long enough to meet me. But you—you have potential. A pity you'll never live to fulfill it."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Percy muttered, dodging another swipe of the Chimera's claws. He slashed out with Riptide, aiming for the creature's flank, but the blade glanced off its hide as if he'd struck solid stone.

The Chimera retaliated, its goat head spewing a jet of fire straight at him. Percy dove behind one of the steel beams supporting the arch, feeling the heat sear the air around him. His breathing was ragged, his mind racing. He needed a plan, and fast.

The Chimera charged again, its massive body barreling toward him. Percy sidestepped at the last second, swinging Riptide in a wide arc. This time, the blade connected with the serpent tail, severing it with a sickening hiss. The Chimera roared in pain, but its fury only seemed to grow.

"Impressive," Echidna said, her voice laced with mockery. "But you can't defeat us. Not here. Not now."

"Wanna bet?" Percy shot back, though his bravado felt thin. His limbs ached, his energy draining faster than he liked. He needed to end this quickly, but the Chimera wasn't giving him any openings.

Then it happened. The goat head reared back, its maw glowing orange as it prepared another blast of fire and Percy didn't think he could get out of the way. As he just hoped for a bit more time to dodge it. time seemed to slow down—not metaphorically, but literally. Percy felt the world around him grind to a crawl, the flames creeping forward in a sluggish wave. His body moved instinctively, darting to the side with a speed that felt almost unnatural.

What just happened? Percy thought, but he didn't have time to dwell on it. The moment passed, and the fight continued at full speed.

The Chimera spun to face him, its lion's head snarling, but Percy was already in motion. He ducked under its claws, driving Riptide into its chest with all his strength. The blade pierced the creature's hide at last, a burst of golden ichor spraying from the wound. The Chimera howled, collapsing to the floor with a final, guttural growl.

Echidna's expression darkened. "You've done well, child. But this is far from over."

She lunged at him, her claws slashing toward his throat. Percy parried with Riptide, the clash of celestial bronze against her talons sending sparks flying. She was faster and stronger than he expected, each strike pushing him closer to the broken window.

"You should bow to me," Echidna hissed. "You were born to serve the Titans, not the gods."

Her words sent a jolt through Percy. What did she mean by that? He gritted his teeth, refusing to let her get into his head. With a burst of strength, he drove her back, their blades locking in a tense stalemate.

"I'm not serving anyone," he growled. "And I definitely don't take orders from monsters."

With a sharp twist, he broke the lock and slashed at her side. Echidna hissed in pain, ichor seeping from the wound. Her eyes burned with fury, but she seemed to realize she was outmatched.

"This isn't the end," she said, her voice echoing with a sinister promise. Then, before Percy could react, she dissolved into a cloud of black smoke, vanishing into thin air.

Percy staggered back, his chest heaving as he surveyed the damage. The Chimera lay motionless on the floor, its body already beginning to dissolve into golden mist. The observation deck was in ruins, shards of glass and twisted metal littering the ground.

And then he noticed the elevator was gone—along with any safe way down.

The room groaned ominously, the broken observation deck teetering as the wind howled through the gaping hole. Percy's pulse quickened as he realized he was completely stranded. The elevators were either gone or unusable, and Echidna's attack had left the structure unstable. He peered through the shattered window at the dizzying drop to the Mississippi River far below.

"Great," he muttered. "No pressure."

Behind him, the Chimera's remains dissolved fully, leaving behind nothing but the lingering smell of sulfur. Percy stepped closer to the jagged edge, his thoughts racing. There wasn't time to wait for rescue—if he stayed, the deck might collapse entirely, taking him with it. His gaze shifted to the river below. It was a long fall, but something deep inside him whispered that he'd survive it.

The same instinct that had guided him in the fight flared to life again. The water called to him, a silent reassurance that he'd be safe.

"Okay, Jackson," he muttered to himself. "It's not like you have a better idea."

With one last glance at the empty observation deck, Percy climbed onto the ledge. The wind tugged at his clothes, and for a moment, vertigo made his head spin. He forced himself to focus.

"Here goes nothing," he said, and he jumped.

—

End of chapter 8

Author's Note: By the way if anyone asks, I know I could have had Percy kill Echidna but I felt that as the Mother of Monsters , she should be a decently powerful and hence she escaped in the black smoke. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.