Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
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53
beard, and the cruel eyes. “You mean that evil king? That’s the ghost who’s been giving you
advice?”
“It’s none of your business, Percy!” Nico turned back to Geryon. “And what do you mean
about things getting difficult?”
The three-bodied man sighed. “Well, you see, Nico—can I call you Nico?”
“No.”
“You see, Nico, Luke Castellan is offering very good money for half-bloods. Especially
powerful half-bloods. And I’m sure when he learns your little secret, who you really are, he’ll pay
very, very well indeed.”
Nico drew his sword, but Eurytion knocked it out of his hand. Before I could get up, Orthus
pounced on my chest and growled, his faces an inch away from mine.
“I would stay in the car, all of you,” Geryon warned. “Or Orthus will tear Mr. Jackson’s throat
out. Now, Eurytion, if you would be so kind, secure Nico.”
The cowherd spit into the grass. “Do I have to?”
“Yes, you fool!”
Eurytion looked bored, but he wrapped one huge arm around Nico and lifted him up like a
wrestler.
“Pick up the sword, too,” Geryon said with distaste. “There’s nothing I hate worse than
Stygian Iron.”
Eurytion picked up the sword, careful not to touch the blade.
“Now,” Geryon said cheerfully, “we’ve had the tour. Let’s go back to the lodge, have some
lunch, and send an Iris-message to our friends in the Titan army.”
“You fiend!” Annabeth cried.
Geryon smiled at her. “Don’t worry, my dear. Once I’ve delivered Mr. di Angelo, you and your
party can go. I don’t interfere with quests. Besides, I’ve been paid well to give you safe passage,
which does not, I’m afraid, include Mr. di Angelo.
“Paid by whom?” Annabeth said. “What do you mean?”
“Never you mind, darlin’. Let’s be off, shall we?”
“Wait!” I said, and Orthus growled. I stayed perfectly still so he wouldn’t tear my throat out.
“Geryon, you said you’re a businessman. Make me a
deal.”
Geryon narrowed his eyes. “What sort of deal? Do you have gold?”
“I’ve got something better. Barter.”
“But Mr. Jackson, you’ve got nothing.”
“You could have him clean the stables,” Eurytion suggested innocently.
“I’ll do it!” I said. “If I fail, you get all of us. Trade us all to Luke for gold.”
“Assuming the horses don’t eat you,” Geryon observed.
“Either way, you get my friends,” I said. “But if I succeed, you’ve got to let all of us go,
including Nico.”
“No!” Nico screamed. “Don’t do me any favors, Percy. I don’t want your help!”
Geryon chuckled. “Percy Jackson, those stables haven’t been cleaned in a thousand
years…though it’s true I might be able to sell more stable space if all that poop was cleared away.”
“So what have you got to lose?”
The rancher hesitated. “All right, I’ll accept your offer, but you have to get it done by sunset.
If you fail, your friends get sold, and I get rich.”
“Deal.”
He nodded. “I’m going to take your friends with me, back to the lodge.
We’ll wait for you there.”
Eurytion gave me a funny look. It might have been sympathy. He whistled, and the dog
jumped off me and onto Annabeth’s lap. She yelped. I knew Tyson and grover would never try
anything as long as Annabeth was hostage.
I got out of the car and locked eyes with her.
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she said quietly.
“I hope so, too.”
Geryon got behind the driver’s wheel. Eurytion hauled Nico into the backseat.