Read Online Percy Jackson & The Olympians: The Demigod Files by Rick Riordan - Free Book Online Page B

“It’s not total immortality, Percy. You know that. We can still die in combat. It’s just . . . we don’t ever age or get sick, so we live forever assuming we don’t get sliced to pieces by monsters.”
    “Always a danger.”
    “Always.” She looked around, and I realized she was scanning the faces of the dead.
    “If you’re looking for Bianca,” I said quietly so Nico wouldn’t hear me, “she’d be in Elysium. She died a hero’s death.”
    “I know that,”Thalia snapped. Then she caught herself.
    “It’s not that, Percy. I was just . . . never mind.”
    A cold feeling washed over me. I remembered that Thalia’s mother had died in a car crash a few years ago. They’d never been close, but Thalia had never gotten to say good-bye. If her mother’s shade was wandering around down here—no wonder Thalia looked jumpy.
    “I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
    Our eyes met, and I got the feeling she understood. Her expression softened. “It’s okay. Let’s just get this over with.”
    Another petal fell off the carnation as we marched on.
    I wasn’t happy when the flower pointed us toward the Fields of Punishment. I was hoping we’d veer into Elysium so we could hang out with the beautiful people and party, but no. The flower seemed to like the harshest, evilest part of the Underworld. We jumped over a lava stream and picked our way past scenes of horrible torture. I won’t describe them because you’d completely lose your appetite, but I wished I had cotton balls in my ears to shut out the screaming and the 1980s music.
    The carnation tilted its face toward a hill on our left.
    “Up there,” I said.
    Thalia and Nico stopped. They were covered with soot from trudging through Punishment. I probably didn’t look much better.
    A loud grinding noise came from the other side of the hill, like somebody was dragging a washing machine. Then the hill shook with a BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! and a man yelled curses.
    Thalia looked at Nico. “Is that who I think it is?”
    “Afraid so,” Nico said. “The number-one expert on cheating death.”
    Before I could ask what he meant, he led us to the top of the hill.
    The dude on the other side was not pretty, and he was not happy. He looked like one of those troll dolls with orange skin, a pot belly, scrawny legs and arms, and a big loincloth/diaper thing around his waist. His ratty hair stuck up like a torch. He was hopping around, cursing and kicking a boulder that was twice as big as he was.
    “I won’t!” he screamed. “No, no, no!”Then he launched into a string of cuss words in several different languages. If I’d had one of those jars where you put a quarter in for each bad word, I would’ve made around five hundred dollars.
    He started to walk away from the boulder, but after ten feet he lurched backward, like some invisible force had pulled him. He staggered back to the boulder and started banging his head against it.
    “All right!” he screamed. “All right, curse you!”
    He rubbed his head and muttered some more cuss words. “But this is the last time. Do you hear me?”
    Nico looked at us. “Come on. While he’s between attempts.”
    We scrambled down the hill.
    “Sisyphus!” Nico called.
    The troll guy looked up in surprise. Then he scrambled behind his rock. “Oh, no! You’re not fooling me with those disguises! I know you’re the Furies!”
    “We’re not the Furies,” I said. “We just want to talk.”
    “Go away!” he shrieked. “Flowers won’t make it better. It’s too late to apologize!”
    “Look,” Thalia said, “we just want—”
    “La-la-la!” he yelled. “I’m not listening!”
    We played tag with him around the boulder until finally Thalia, who was the quickest, caught the old man by his hair.
    “Stop it!” he wailed. “I have rocks to move. Rocks to move!”
    “I’ll move your rock!”Thalia offered. “Just shut up and talk to my friends.”
    Sisyphus stopped fighting.