The Moon's Shine (PJO)

Chapter 53

Sneaking into Poseidon's palace was easier said than done. 

Even though it was underwater, the place boasted tighter security than Fort Knox. The palace itself was in the Atlantis' center, a mile from the gate that Percy's breached through. Armed guard patrols swarmed around the city, led by leashed dolphins that sniffed passersby—the watered-down (hah--see what I did there?) version of humans' bomb-sniffing dogs. 

All Percy knew was that, if he was spotted, he'd immediately die. Mermen weren't exactly on friendly terms with humans.

Even with that notion, the son of the sea wasn't particularly able to follow it. After hours of evading guards through a network of alleys, ladders, and roofs, Percy finally, with relief, spotted the gleaming dome that was the top of Poseidon's palace.

Only to find it surrounded by another gate.

Mermen sure love their walls, Percy thought, too fatigued to curse. He lay on the roof—like a dog on a couch—of a house that overlooked the palace entrance from the opposite side of the road. 

Nearby, a crowd of merpeople had gathered, pointing fingers at the exhausted boy and discussing what to do next. Given their angry expressions, they obviously weren't there to help—but Percy didn't really care.

In a minute, he observed a mass of twenty guards exit through the front gates—which were flanked by five cyclopes with huge clubs and ten merpeople on each side—and line up single file along the wall. Confused, Percy found them patting their sides, making sure they had their weapons. They looked like reinforcements—but why? Had they found the guards on the border already?

Alerted by the commotion, a few guards approached the crowd beneath Percy. Upon spotting the son of the sea, they beckoned for more armed mermen for support.

A rumbling reached his ears, and Percy found his answers. From the east, along the road, came a huge parade of people—merchants, blacksmiths, and jewelers, each with their own cart pulled by horses. And they had tons of wares. The poorer traders had no such help—their goods were restricted to a tiny basket that teetered on their heads.  Looks like it's trading day for Atlantis.

Behind Percy, the sound of grunts and hands scraping brick shot through the air. the boy spun around to find himself surrounded by half a dozen guards. As he jumped to his feet, his neck was met with six glinting spears.

"Today, you die, boy," a guard spat out.

"Y'know, there are other ways out of this," Percy tried. "Can't you throw me out of town? I'd appreciate it if you let me keep my arms and legs."

In response, the guards stabbed him, spears penetrating his skin and drawing huge amounts of blood. One even went through his heart. Percy gasped, and his eyes rolled back into his head as he fell backwards, floating limply in the water.

At least, that's what was supposed to happen.

Instead, Percy took a step backward, right on the roof's edge—and then launched himself into a backward summersault. The guards' weapons brushed passed him. A spear tore the sleeve off his shirt. After his evasive maneuver, he had hoped to swim across the sea of merchants to the palace gate.

That didn't happen. 

You see, Percy could've done it if he still had his powers. But other than being able to breathe underwater, the son of the sea had been cursed by the, well, sea. Water did its best to avoid him, kind of like air. So he plummeted a story down.

Curse you, Poseidon. Percy closed his eyes in defeat. He didn't have the guts to say, Dad. Because his only living relative had abandoned him. He wondered if he'd be judged as a regular mortal in the Underworld—to be a demigod, you needed a godly parent.