Harry Hates Crust
They arrived at the Santa Monica pier in an impressive amount of time. Annabeth had traded her infinite cash for a quick ride to the pier and the taxi driver appeared to have been determined to please her as he sped down the roads.
Harry, Annabeth and Grover watched as Percy waded into the waters completely ignoring Annabeth’s commentary on the pollution.
“Relax Bethy, he is the son of Poseidon,” Harry responded to Annabeth’s growing annoyance.
“Don’t call me Bethy!”
“Alright, Annie.”
Annabeth cursed.
When Percy resurfaced he was holding three white pearls with a frown on his face.
“No gift comes without a price,” Annabeth warned.
It was starting to get dark and Harry was impatient. “C’mon.”
The others followed him as he weaved through the streets, trying to find the entrance to the underworld. He could see a group of young men shrouded in the darkness of the alley and knew that he should pick up the pace, those guys reminded him of Dudley, and nothing that ever reminded him of Dudley was a good thing.
As we hurried past the entrance of an alley, a voice from the darkness said, "Hey, you."
Like an idiot, Percy stopped.
Before I knew it, we were surrounded. A gang of kids had circled us. Six of them in all-white kids with expen-sive clothes and mean faces.
Percy drew his sword and held it up hesitantly.
When the sword appeared out of nowhere, the kids backed off, but their leader was either really stupid or really brave, because he kept coming at him with a switchblade. Percy made the mistake of swinging. The kid yelped.
But he must've been one hundred per-cent mortal, because the blade passed harmlessly right through his chest. He looked down. "What the ..." I figured we had about three seconds before his shock turned to anger.
“Idiot,” Harry hissed. He stepped in front of Percy and drew his silver hunting knives. “Listen, his sword might be an illusion but I promise you these knives aren’t. Let us go and no one gets hurt.”
The leader sneered and charged. What. An. Idiot. As Hermione would say.
Harry met his switchblade with incredible speed, he parried the weak strike and began slicing wounds into the boy's body. Harry didn’t want to kill the kid so he avoided any spots that could be fatal.
Blood poured from the boy’s wounds and he stumbled back with a pale face.
“Run!” Percy yelled. Harry shot the boy one last look before running after the others who were rushing into a nearby waterbed store.
The waterbed store was rather bland. It had plain powder blue walls lined with rows of beds. Harry could see a few pinup boards with random flyers stuck up. His instincts tingled slightly but Harry wrote it off as nothing. It was really only to be trusted if it buzzed.
“Welcome!” A man stood in front of them. He was extremely tall and rather large. His skin was almost green and he had a flaky skinned face. Gods talk about self-neglect. “I’m Crusty, welcome to my store.”
“Your name is crusty?” Percy asked with a raised eyebrow.
The man nodded. “Nickname.”
“Fitting,” Harry muttered under his breath.
“Follow me, I’ll show you some of my models,” He grabbed Percy’s shoulder and steered him towards the waterbeds. Annabeth shrugged and walked behind them and Grover laid himself down on one of the closest beds with intricate designs all along it. Hands sprung forward and began massaging him. “Ah, my bestseller. It’s called the hundred-handed massage,” Crusty grinned. Grover seemed to be enjoying it, his eyes were closed and he was humming satisfactorily.
Harry was suspicious of the man, his eyes looked over the room and focused on one of the pinned up flyers.
‘Dracanae Cleaners for hire!
We don’t bite, give us a try’
Dracanae!? Harry looked back at the group just in time to see Crusty push Annabeth onto one of the waterbeds despite her protests.
“Ergo,” He called out with a snap of his fingers. Ropes wrapped around both Grover and Annabeth, holding them in place. “Almost,” the man muttered to himself. Harry watched in horror as the robs began to stretch Grover and Annabeth.
Okay. What.
Harry dropped to the floor with a thud to avoid being seen by Crusty.
“What was that?!” The man turned but Percy distracted him with his rambling nonsense. Huh, look at that, his motormouth does come in handy.
Harry crawled over to the bed Grover was on and sawed at the ropes with his knife. It was fraying but taking way too long in Harry’s opinion.
“Ergo!” Percy’s voice rang through the saleroom. Harry looked up as Percy swung his sword through Crusty. The son of Poseidon quickly ran over and broke the remaining ropes with ease. Maybe celestial bronze knives as a backup would be a good idea after all.
While Annabeth and Grover stretched Percy walked over to a pinup board and ripped off a slip that read:
DOA Recording Studios
Always on the lookout for deadly new talent
Annabeth looked it over. “This must be the entrance,” she grabbed the slip and read out the address.
Percy nodded. “Let’s go.”
Grover shot him an incredulous look. “Give me a second, I was just almost stretched to death.”
Harry was sick of this quest. All he wanted to do was go back to Cabin 11 and take a nice long nap.