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FIC: The Final Sacrifice, chpt 6
Title: The Final Sacrifice (Daughter of Wisdom 5)
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Thalia Grace, Charles Beckendorf/Silena Beauregard, Clarisse La Rue, Michael Yew, OCs, multiple others
Fandom: Percy Jackson
Word Count: WIP, estimated 100K+ (33 chapters planned)
Summary: The war on Olympus is heating up, and Annabeth Chase is right in the thick of it. Bad enough that she's gearing up for battle while wrestling with the emotional turmoil over two of her dearest friends that is turning her heart inside out. She doesn't need more mysterious glimpses about the Great Prophecy and how it connects to her own history. But in order to understand what lies in her future, Annabeth has to dig into the past. What she finds will shape her choices … and change the course of the final battle. An alternate PoV retelling of The Last Olympian. Part 5 of the Daughter of Wisdom series.
In this chapter
Chapter Title: Michael Auditions For Ad Sales
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Annabeth Chase, Michael Yew, OCs, Percy Jackson, Silena Beauregard, Clarisse La Rue, Charles Beckendorf
Word Count: 3,795
Chapter Summary: Annabeth and Michael visit an unusual pharmacy.
Notes: I made up none of the Mütter Museum exhibits. Real life can truly be stranger than fiction sometimes! But I did fudge the exhibit list a bit. Ancient medicine is listed as a special exhibition on the web page. But ... teensy detail that I'll claim artistic license for.
Panacea, from which the modern word derives, was indeed a daughter of Asclepius (granddaughter of Apollo).
Delphyne is referenced in Typhon's battle with Zeus as the guardian of Zeus's sinews, though some sources trace her/him to the serpent that Apollo slew for control of the Delphic Oracle-though in PJO universe this has been attributed to Python. She appears in Percy Jackson's Greek Gods as female, which is why that's the gender I've assigned her.
The Clean Hands Count campaign is a reference to the CDC movement (years too late for this timeline, but all times are one time to gods, right?). You can see the original Detrol ad, from the early 2000's, on YouTube.
Apologies to those of you across the pond for the tongue-in-cheek references to your healthcare access. The cost of medical care is indeed a problem, though I should state up front that I have plenty of issues with the NHS on this side as well, so healthcare that’s free at point-of-delivery isn’t the panacea one might believe it to be.
Huge thanks to AnnaUnicorn, Hello, CQ816, SG2000, Numberfivewithabullet, 2na22, JustADerangedFanGirl, Rocketay, thatoneguy, and MariaClaire for providing their input on Americanisms in this chapter!
Back to Fic Content Page
Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled to wander the city of liberty. It had been a site of the architectural revival in the 1900s, with historic buildings like the Penn Museum, or the Independence Hall that we'd landed on, which dated back centuries. The Museum of Art was even hailed as the Parthenon of Philadelphia.
Michael and I took the streetcar across town. It took the scenic route to Twenty-second Street, passing the door to the Museum of Art. It was indeed a work of beauty, with four Doric columns facing out so that the entrance resembled an ancient Greek temple. I'd only ever been to the Parthenon replica in Tennessee, so I couldn't tell how closely the museum matched the ancient original. Although my dad had wanted to take me this summer, that would probably never happen now. Would he visit it anyway? Maybe he'd send me a postcard.
From the outside, the Mütter Museum could have been any ordinary building, with red brick walls and double-glazed windows. Inside, though, it was possibly the weirdest place I'd ever seen. And after eight years of demigod training, I'd definitely seen weird.
The entrance hall was decorated with skeletons-actual skeletons leering from glass cases and hanging from the ceiling. There was even one on a stand by the door, rigged up so that its arm waved up and down in welcome. At the front desk, a receptionist sat under shelves of even more bones. She wore a skull-shaped badge that said, ASK ME ABOUT MY BODIES!
The weirdest thing was how none of the mortals seemed to find any of this odd. The visitors wandered among the exhibits, grinning at the skeletons and posing with them for pictures.
'Are you sure this isn't some monster trap?' I couldn't help thinking of the zombie tourists Luke had once kept aboard his monster cruise ship-mortals who had been there just to keep up appearances. Though to be fair, these tourists approached the ghoulish exhibitions with an enthusiasm that had been completely lacking among the dazed passengers on the Princess Andromeda.
'It's just anatomy,' Michael said with a shrug. He examined a glass case of different-sized femurs. 'Will would have a field day. He loves this stuff.'
The entrance hall split off in three directions. One door led out to a courtyard garden brimming with strange plants. On our right, the corridor was marked EXHIBITS. On our left, an arrow pointed to SOUVENIRS.
'Gift shop?' I asked.
Michael shook his head. 'I think it's somewhere among the exhibits.'
We ducked under a banner that screamed, BE DISTURBINGLY INFORMED! The exhibits corridor curved off into a series of rooms. More signs pointed out the special exhibitions: GRIMM'S ANATOMY, and BLOOD WORK, and THROUGH THE WEEPING GLASS. I almost thought my dyslexia was acting up, but it seemed like these were the titles, and not just the letters twisting into strange words.
At the end of the corridor, a wall placard gave a list of the permanent exhibits: stuff like WET COLLECTION, and MEDICINAL PLANT GARDEN. Michael considered it for a while, then put his finger on the words ANCIENT MEDICINE. 'I think that's it.'
The permanent exhibitions were in a long series of connected rooms. To get to the Ancient Medicine collection, we had to pass through what could have passed for a mad scientist's lab. There was a hallway of pickled brains, a room filled with surgical instruments, and a collection of jars stuffed with slimy innards-tendons and sinews and other labelled body parts that Michael read out loud until I told him to shut up before I hurled. This part of the museum didn't seem to be on the tourist highlights (no surprises there). We were the only ones here.
'I don't like this,' I said.
'Well, it probably just means we're in the right place.' He reached for the door to ANCIENT MEDICINE. 'The Mist probably keeps the mortals away. Let's just-aaaah!'
On the door, a hundred eyes sprung open. Michael and I leapt back, startled. The blinking eyes reminded me of Argus, our security chief at camp, who had peepers all over his body. But this was a serpent-a giant, multi-ocular red snake that blended in so seamlessly with the wood that I'd never have guessed it was there. It uncurled from the door, hissing furiously.
'G-good snake,' Michael stammered. 'N-nice snake. We're just gonna-'
The serpent, clearly not impressed, lunged at us.
I dragged Michael backwards. As soon as we backed away from the door, the serpent disappeared back into its panels. Like a chameleon, its scales faded into the wood. Every so often, one of its eyes would crack open at different points on the door, like a roving security peephole. Or a security peeper, I guess.
'Figures,' Michael groaned. 'There's a guard.'
'Could we sneak past it? Like, with a distraction?' I pulled out my invisibility cap. 'You get its attention and I'll sneak in.'
Michael pursed his lips, then shook his head. 'I don't think that'll work. See, only children of Apollo are supposed to be able to get in. I think that means there's a way in that only Apollo kids would know.'
'Like a password?'
'Yeah. I'd guess it has something to do with Apollo's domain.'
'Healing? Archery? The Oracle?' Apollo had fingers in practically every pie. How would we figure out which one was relevant? 'We don't have time to work it out!'
'We'll just have to try them all,' Michael said. 'Look-do the thing with your hat. Give me a couple of tries to get the password, and if it really doesn't work, we'll do it your way, with the distraction.'
'Fine.' I donned my invisibility hat. Michael winced.
'That's way too much like the chameleon snake.' He stepped forward and took a deep breath. 'Hey, uh, serpent of Apollo!'
Five eyes blinked on the door. The serpent gave a low, warning hiss.
'Er, you know, Apollo, god of light ... can you let us in without a fight?' Michael threw out a few more phrases. I didn't know if he'd intentionally made them rhyme, or if he just figured that was how a god of poetry might set up a password.
Nothing happened, unless you counted the serpent uncurling its head from the door to prop itself on the doorknob. It nodded at Michael as if to say, Nope, not it, but do continue, this is amusing.
'Man, give me a clue, won't you? Sun dude, godly twins, crap, what else did he do?'
Then I noticed something. The serpent wasn't just nodding. It was bobbing its head in time to the rhythm of Michael's words.
'Michael!' I hissed. 'Look at it.'
His brow furrowed. Then his face brightened. 'Apollo did, like, everything, and if he had a skill missing, he left it to his kids to sing it; we try to bring it, but we're probably failing, cos the dude's like a king.'
The serpent swayed, bobbing its head faster with the beat. Michael got into the rhythm, moving his hands in time to his rap. I had no idea where he was getting his inspiration from, but he produced a string of fast-paced lines that would have made the heaviest street rapper proud.
At last, the serpent uncurled from the door and opened its jaws wide-but only to yawn. A moment later, all billion of its eyes fluttered shut. It stretched out along the base of the WET COLLECTION shelves, snoozing.
I pulled off my hat. 'Well, that was ... interesting. Will did say you do a mean rap.'
Michael gave me a sheepish grin. 'Sort of a side hobby.' He frowned at the serpent. 'Not really the reaction I typically want from an audience, but let's go before it wakes up.'
The Ancient Medicine room would have looked like an ordinary pharmacy, only instead of medicine cabinets, it had shelves filled with ancient Greek jugs: amphoras, pithes, stenii. A full-length window looked out onto a bed of flowering plants in the museum garden. Although I wasn't an expert on flowers, I was pretty sure most of them made some dangerous poisons.
The walls were plastered with cheerful posters that said things like, Have you asked your doctor about Moly? and Eternity got you down? Try Hermultivites-guaranteed to put the godliness back in your step!
A service counter cut the room in half. On one end, a couple of prescription pads lay next to a cash register. Underneath were trays with eight-packs of Ambrosia Cough Drops (demigod-friendly) and Max Strength Nectar Suspension (godly use only). A sign over them advertised TWO FOR 4.99D (limited 6 packs per customer).
The pharmacist looked like she could have walked off one of those old pin-up posters from the 1950s. Her round, freckled cheeks were dabbed with rouge. A nurse's cap perched jauntily over her curly red hair. The name tag pinned to her starched white apron read PAMELA. The only thing missing was a bright smile. She scowled so fiercely when she saw us, she nearly went cross-eyed.
'Don't tell me Delphyne's sleeping on the job again!'
Michael and I looked at each other. 'Delphyne?'
'You couldn't have missed her. Big red serpent, a billion eyes?'
'Er, yeah, we met her.'
Pamela groaned. 'It's so hard to get good security these days. Unless ... either of you a relative of mine?'
'If by relative you mean a son of Apollo, then yeah.' Michael raised his hand. 'Me.'
'Well, that's all right, then.' Pamela's scowl relaxed. 'All these security checks. I swear, it's easier to get guns than meds these days. I told Apollo exclusivity kills sales, but he still insists ...' She sighed and clicked her fingers. 'Delphyne! Delphyne!'
The disembodied eyes of the chameleon serpent materialised along the wall, nearly giving me a heart attack. She slithered onto the counter and snaked her tongue out at Michael as though in greeting, before wandering up the shelves to curl around an old amphora.
'Hm.' Pamela raised an eyebrow. 'What did you do?'
Michael explained about his rap and she nodded. 'Well, that would do it. Delphyne's a sucker for anything with a good beat. She used to work for Typhon, you know, and that giant was like an all-in-one boombox.'
'Typhon?' I shuddered. Once upon a time, the storm giant had nearly caused the destruction of Olympus. Zeus had managed to trap him under a mountain, but not without some pretty serious mishaps during their battle.
'You mean the Delphyne,' Michael said. 'The one that guarded Zeus's tendons when Typhon stole them?'
Delphyne chittered as if to say, That's right, suckers!
Pamela nodded. 'Of course, Typhon's been out of action for millennia. Delphyne's kind of an odd serpent for hire now. But she likes this place.'
'I wonder why,' Michael murmured.
I shifted uncomfortably. Talking about Typhon reminded me of the volcanic explosion Percy and I had accidentally set off last year in the Pacific Northwest. And there was something else that had happened in the heart of Mount St Helens, something we'd never talked about ...
'So,' Pamela said, 'what can I do for you? Mud of Lemnos? Unicorn draught? Or ...' She rattled off a list of what I assumed were medications. 'Mind you, I'll need a prescription for anything stronger.'
'Er, actually, we just need some nectar and ambrosia,' Michael said. 'You can sell those over the counter, right? And something for pegasi, if you've got that.'
'Pegasi.' Pamela sniffed. 'Do I look like a vet?' But she slammed an amphora on the countertop and plucked a couple of the demigod-friendly ambrosia eight-packs from the trays. 'Well, fine. Here's your nectar and ambrosia. Though why anyone would want this stuff, with all the side effects ... especially when there's a better alternative.'
'A better alternative?' I asked.
Pamela's eyes gleamed. She clicked her fingers again. Delphyne materialised from her resting place on the shelves. Gods, that thing with the eyes was unnerving.
'Bring me a cutting, Delphyne,' she said.
The serpent slithered to the window. A moment later, we saw her weaving among the rows of medicinal plants. I guess she didn't just blend in with the walls; she actually moved through them.
Delphyne returned with a simple blue leaf, which she dropped into Pamela's outstretched hand. Pamela held it between two fingers like a precious stone. 'Behold. The cure-all. The prize of the pharmacy. You might call it ...' She paused for dramatic effect. 'A panacea.'
Mystified, I looked at Michael. He shrugged.
Pamela looked insulted. 'Oh, come on. Surely you've heard of it?'
'It's, uh ...' It sounded like one of those SAT prep words, the kind you memorise the meaning of but never actually use in everyday life. Except I could swear its etymology was Greek. 'Wait.' I squinted at her nametag. It did not, in fact, say PAMELA. 'You're Panacea.'
'Well, of course I am.' Pamela/Panacea looked even more disgruntled now. 'Who did you think I was?'
'Uh-we thought this place was run by a descendant of Apollo,' Michael said.
Panacea sniffed. 'Figures. Everyone knows the famous descendants. It's all about Asclepius, and Orpheus, and even Troilus. But when it comes to the goddess of medicines? Oh, no one cares about the pharmacist.' She slammed a new jug on the countertop. 'Even my sister gets more fame. Hygieia-oh, everyone knows about the Clean Hands Count campaign.'
'So, this, uh, panacea,' I said quickly, before she could go off on a rant. 'You were saying ... it cures everything?'
'Oh, it's strong enough to raise a slumbering coma patient,' Panacea said proudly. 'Though beyond that ...' She laughed. 'My father, Asclepius, once had a concoction that could revive the dead, but Great-Uncle Hades got pissed off about that and blasted him dead. Now that was one big Thanksgiving blowout. "You live by my rules, or you die under my roof," and all that.' She frowned. 'Hm. That's the wrong saying, isn't it?'
I pointed to the cutting. 'And that's-this plant?'
Panacea fingered the blue leaf. 'The mixture is distilled from the herb of invulnerability. It's so difficult to get right. But for the right price ...' Her smile was hungry. She closed her fist over the herb. 'Takes twenty-four hours to brew, but I might just have some already in stock ...' She stood on tiptoe and extracted a tiny vial from a shelf.
Michael took it carefully. 'Wow, thanks.'
'So the panacea, and I assume you still want the nectar and ambrosia? And powdered unicorn horn should work for your pegasi.' Panacea rang up the till. 'Can I get your OlympAid card?'
'What?'
'Or just the number if you don't have it on you. I assume you're insured under an AsclepiusCare health plan? No?' She made a tsking noise at our blank faces. 'Okay, that's five thousand drachma, then.'
'What?' I nearly dropped our purchases. 'We can't pay that!'
Panacea's nostrils flared. 'Excuse me? You don't want to pay for your medication?'
'No, that's not-it's just ... five thousand drachmas-that's-that's daylight robbery!'
'If you can't afford it-well, you should've gotten insured, shouldn't you?'
'But-I thought this place existed to help demigods!' Michael protested.
Panacea plucked the medicines out of our hands. Delphyne popped up on the counter, forming a threatening barrier.
'Forget it,' Panacea said. 'I have enough problems meeting my sales quotas without giving away stuff for free.'
Michael and I looked desperately at each other. We couldn't go back to our friends without supplies.
'Wait!' I said. 'Panacea. You-you say you're having a hard time meeting your sales quota?'
Panacea glowered at me over the top of Delphyne's billion blinking eyes.
'So-so-' I struggled for an idea. 'So maybe that's because you don't get enough foot traffic. I mean, with Apollo's restrictions on visitors to your pharmacy ... and I totally get that. You wouldn't want unscrupulous people stealing your formula.'
Delphyne gave a low hiss of agreement. Panacea stroked his scales thoughtfully. Emboldened, I went on.
'Sure, all the best pharmas guard their patents. But they also have a marketing strategy. Look at nectar and ambrosia: there's a huge market for it. Even you stock it.'
Panacea shook the kiddy-pack of ambrosia squares. 'Even though it's got awful side effects. But everyone wants it!'
'Exactly. It's all about demand. If you want to compete, you need a better strategy. See, the big pharmas, they start with free samples. That's how they break into the market. Add a good ad campaign ...' I snapped my fingers. 'Bam. Gold.'
Michael finally caught on. 'Yeah, even the best brands need a good ad to get their product out there. Like, uh, that Detrol ad.' He hummed a few bars of an old overactive bladder drug commercial.
Panacea continued to frown. I wasn't sure if she was buying it.
'Look.' I dug Daedalus's laptop out of my backpack. Thank the gods he'd programmed it to hook up to any available wifi signal, secured or not. I did a quick Google search for the Detrol jingle and found it on YouTube.
'Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now,' sang the ad.
'You could do that?' Panacea said dubiously.
'Sure! Of course, an ad campaign is just one part of it. You need the right distribution channels, too. And we can help with that. I mean, we go to a demigod camp. There's your niche market. You wouldn't have to wait for us to come to you-you could just sit and wait for the, uh, royalties to roll in from the sales!'
'Well ...'
'Look, how about we do a mock-up of the advertising?' Michael suggested. He rolled up his sleeves and gave me a significant look.
If I'd thought Michael's impromptu rap for Delphyne impressive, I hadn't heard anything yet. He broke into a dance/rap routine that extolled the virtues of panacea, the mighty cure-all, in rapid-fire ghetto rhyme. I don't know how he managed to come up with lines so quickly, but boy, the kid could rap.
Panacea's interest was definitely piqued. 'You think that would sell?'
'Absolutely,' I said. I typed a command into Daedalus's laptop. It ejected a recording of Michael's spontaneous ad routine on a USB stick. 'All we need is a couple of free samples-oh, and the formula. We'll be your licensed distributors. And we'll even forgo a commission.'
I held the stick between my fingers and tried to look confident and persuasive. Michael mopped his brow, breathing hard from his impassioned performance.
All of Delphyne's eyes flickered to Panacea, like, your call, though I thought-or hoped-maybe the serpent also had a hint of, can't beat that for a deal, in her gaze. Panacea nodded. Delphyne slid off the counter and back out to the garden. Panacea reached over her head for two things: a shallow bowl and a translucent vial. She set them down on the counter, then set a pen hovering over a prescription pad.
'There's a catch to this brew,' she said, letting the herb of invulnerability flutter into the bowl. 'The distillation creates a poison so strong, its fumes can knock out an immortal for days. Why, the first time I experimented with it ...' She shook her head sagely. 'The trick is gold.'
'Gold?' I asked. 'Like-drachmas?'
Panacea sniffed. 'That's tainted. Money and medicine should never mix.'
I thought it was probably best not to mention the exorbitant charge she'd just levied on us for her medicines. 'So you have to use-'
She unscrewed the lid of the vial. Inside, glittering flakes sparkled as bright as the Apollo cabin. 'Pure gold,' she said, dipping her fingers in the jug. Her voice turned slightly sing-song. 'A pinch for safety, two flicks to cure. Add a third when it settles, and a last drop to be sure.'
As she recited, her pen scribbled on the prescription pad, noting down her instructions. She added the gold flakes to the bowl, then poured in a glass of water. 'That should do it. Let it steep for twenty-four hours, no more, no less.'
Delphyne returned with more blue leaf cuttings. Panacea wrapped them in a filmy layer of animal skin (or possibly human, given the exhibits in this museum. I decided I didn't want to know.) She handed this over, along with the vial of gold flakes and three doses of ready-made panacea, the instruction sheet, and the rest of our meds.
I pressed the USB stick into her palm. Panacea took it with a gleeful expression. 'Watch out, Olympus. Million-drachma idea, right here!'
I imagined her going out to conquer OlympusTV with her new ad. Gods forbid I'd just created an immortal drug tycoon.
Michael and I packed the medicines carefully into my backpack.
'Nice rapping,' I told him.
He rubbed the back of his neck. 'Yeah, well, I seriously never thought that would ever come in handy.'
The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time we made it back to the National Historic Park. Beckendorf had drifted into unconsciousness by then, despite Silena's coaxing. His breathing was strained and shallow. Michael tipped a vial of panacea into his lips. Within seconds, his colour improved. The ugly red streaks spreading from his wound faded.
'It's working!' Silena looked like she could kiss Michael. 'What is this stuff?'
We explained about Panacea.
'Guess she wasn't kidding about the cure-all part,' Michael said. 'Here-' He passed a vial each to Percy and Clarisse. They popped the corks and drank. Clarisse bent her knee back and forth.
'That's good stuff, Yew,' she admitted.
'Yeah.' Percy unwrapped his arm and moved it in a circle, flexing his muscles as he did so. My throat went suddenly dry. I swallowed hard.
'Ungh.' Beckendorf's eyes fluttered open. Grateful for the distraction, I turned to him. So did Silena.
'Charlie! How are you feeling?'
Beckendorf sat up and put a hand to his forehead. 'Like I got sat on by Mrs O'Leary.'
Silena flung her arms around him. Beckendorf looked stunned, but pleased.
I looked out into the dusky twilight. 'I guess we should probably rest here for the night. Take care of the pegasi and start off tomorrow morning.'
No one argued. Clarisse passed around packs of fun-size chips from her supplies. Percy found a spare shirt somewhere and put it on (I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed). We rubbed powdered unicorn horn on the pegasi's hides while Michael and Silena set their broken wings and legs. Finally, I told the others to get some sleep.
'I'll take first watch.'
Chapter 7
Author: shiiki
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Thalia Grace, Charles Beckendorf/Silena Beauregard, Clarisse La Rue, Michael Yew, OCs, multiple others
Fandom: Percy Jackson
Word Count: WIP, estimated 100K+ (33 chapters planned)
Summary: The war on Olympus is heating up, and Annabeth Chase is right in the thick of it. Bad enough that she's gearing up for battle while wrestling with the emotional turmoil over two of her dearest friends that is turning her heart inside out. She doesn't need more mysterious glimpses about the Great Prophecy and how it connects to her own history. But in order to understand what lies in her future, Annabeth has to dig into the past. What she finds will shape her choices … and change the course of the final battle. An alternate PoV retelling of The Last Olympian. Part 5 of the Daughter of Wisdom series.
In this chapter
Chapter Title: Michael Auditions For Ad Sales
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Annabeth Chase, Michael Yew, OCs, Percy Jackson, Silena Beauregard, Clarisse La Rue, Charles Beckendorf
Word Count: 3,795
Chapter Summary: Annabeth and Michael visit an unusual pharmacy.
Notes: I made up none of the Mütter Museum exhibits. Real life can truly be stranger than fiction sometimes! But I did fudge the exhibit list a bit. Ancient medicine is listed as a special exhibition on the web page. But ... teensy detail that I'll claim artistic license for.
Panacea, from which the modern word derives, was indeed a daughter of Asclepius (granddaughter of Apollo).
Delphyne is referenced in Typhon's battle with Zeus as the guardian of Zeus's sinews, though some sources trace her/him to the serpent that Apollo slew for control of the Delphic Oracle-though in PJO universe this has been attributed to Python. She appears in Percy Jackson's Greek Gods as female, which is why that's the gender I've assigned her.
The Clean Hands Count campaign is a reference to the CDC movement (years too late for this timeline, but all times are one time to gods, right?). You can see the original Detrol ad, from the early 2000's, on YouTube.
Apologies to those of you across the pond for the tongue-in-cheek references to your healthcare access. The cost of medical care is indeed a problem, though I should state up front that I have plenty of issues with the NHS on this side as well, so healthcare that’s free at point-of-delivery isn’t the panacea one might believe it to be.
Huge thanks to AnnaUnicorn, Hello, CQ816, SG2000, Numberfivewithabullet, 2na22, JustADerangedFanGirl, Rocketay, thatoneguy, and MariaClaire for providing their input on Americanisms in this chapter!
Back to Fic Content Page
Under different circumstances, I would have been thrilled to wander the city of liberty. It had been a site of the architectural revival in the 1900s, with historic buildings like the Penn Museum, or the Independence Hall that we'd landed on, which dated back centuries. The Museum of Art was even hailed as the Parthenon of Philadelphia.
Michael and I took the streetcar across town. It took the scenic route to Twenty-second Street, passing the door to the Museum of Art. It was indeed a work of beauty, with four Doric columns facing out so that the entrance resembled an ancient Greek temple. I'd only ever been to the Parthenon replica in Tennessee, so I couldn't tell how closely the museum matched the ancient original. Although my dad had wanted to take me this summer, that would probably never happen now. Would he visit it anyway? Maybe he'd send me a postcard.
From the outside, the Mütter Museum could have been any ordinary building, with red brick walls and double-glazed windows. Inside, though, it was possibly the weirdest place I'd ever seen. And after eight years of demigod training, I'd definitely seen weird.
The entrance hall was decorated with skeletons-actual skeletons leering from glass cases and hanging from the ceiling. There was even one on a stand by the door, rigged up so that its arm waved up and down in welcome. At the front desk, a receptionist sat under shelves of even more bones. She wore a skull-shaped badge that said, ASK ME ABOUT MY BODIES!
The weirdest thing was how none of the mortals seemed to find any of this odd. The visitors wandered among the exhibits, grinning at the skeletons and posing with them for pictures.
'Are you sure this isn't some monster trap?' I couldn't help thinking of the zombie tourists Luke had once kept aboard his monster cruise ship-mortals who had been there just to keep up appearances. Though to be fair, these tourists approached the ghoulish exhibitions with an enthusiasm that had been completely lacking among the dazed passengers on the Princess Andromeda.
'It's just anatomy,' Michael said with a shrug. He examined a glass case of different-sized femurs. 'Will would have a field day. He loves this stuff.'
The entrance hall split off in three directions. One door led out to a courtyard garden brimming with strange plants. On our right, the corridor was marked EXHIBITS. On our left, an arrow pointed to SOUVENIRS.
'Gift shop?' I asked.
Michael shook his head. 'I think it's somewhere among the exhibits.'
We ducked under a banner that screamed, BE DISTURBINGLY INFORMED! The exhibits corridor curved off into a series of rooms. More signs pointed out the special exhibitions: GRIMM'S ANATOMY, and BLOOD WORK, and THROUGH THE WEEPING GLASS. I almost thought my dyslexia was acting up, but it seemed like these were the titles, and not just the letters twisting into strange words.
At the end of the corridor, a wall placard gave a list of the permanent exhibits: stuff like WET COLLECTION, and MEDICINAL PLANT GARDEN. Michael considered it for a while, then put his finger on the words ANCIENT MEDICINE. 'I think that's it.'
The permanent exhibitions were in a long series of connected rooms. To get to the Ancient Medicine collection, we had to pass through what could have passed for a mad scientist's lab. There was a hallway of pickled brains, a room filled with surgical instruments, and a collection of jars stuffed with slimy innards-tendons and sinews and other labelled body parts that Michael read out loud until I told him to shut up before I hurled. This part of the museum didn't seem to be on the tourist highlights (no surprises there). We were the only ones here.
'I don't like this,' I said.
'Well, it probably just means we're in the right place.' He reached for the door to ANCIENT MEDICINE. 'The Mist probably keeps the mortals away. Let's just-aaaah!'
On the door, a hundred eyes sprung open. Michael and I leapt back, startled. The blinking eyes reminded me of Argus, our security chief at camp, who had peepers all over his body. But this was a serpent-a giant, multi-ocular red snake that blended in so seamlessly with the wood that I'd never have guessed it was there. It uncurled from the door, hissing furiously.
'G-good snake,' Michael stammered. 'N-nice snake. We're just gonna-'
The serpent, clearly not impressed, lunged at us.
I dragged Michael backwards. As soon as we backed away from the door, the serpent disappeared back into its panels. Like a chameleon, its scales faded into the wood. Every so often, one of its eyes would crack open at different points on the door, like a roving security peephole. Or a security peeper, I guess.
'Figures,' Michael groaned. 'There's a guard.'
'Could we sneak past it? Like, with a distraction?' I pulled out my invisibility cap. 'You get its attention and I'll sneak in.'
Michael pursed his lips, then shook his head. 'I don't think that'll work. See, only children of Apollo are supposed to be able to get in. I think that means there's a way in that only Apollo kids would know.'
'Like a password?'
'Yeah. I'd guess it has something to do with Apollo's domain.'
'Healing? Archery? The Oracle?' Apollo had fingers in practically every pie. How would we figure out which one was relevant? 'We don't have time to work it out!'
'We'll just have to try them all,' Michael said. 'Look-do the thing with your hat. Give me a couple of tries to get the password, and if it really doesn't work, we'll do it your way, with the distraction.'
'Fine.' I donned my invisibility hat. Michael winced.
'That's way too much like the chameleon snake.' He stepped forward and took a deep breath. 'Hey, uh, serpent of Apollo!'
Five eyes blinked on the door. The serpent gave a low, warning hiss.
'Er, you know, Apollo, god of light ... can you let us in without a fight?' Michael threw out a few more phrases. I didn't know if he'd intentionally made them rhyme, or if he just figured that was how a god of poetry might set up a password.
Nothing happened, unless you counted the serpent uncurling its head from the door to prop itself on the doorknob. It nodded at Michael as if to say, Nope, not it, but do continue, this is amusing.
'Man, give me a clue, won't you? Sun dude, godly twins, crap, what else did he do?'
Then I noticed something. The serpent wasn't just nodding. It was bobbing its head in time to the rhythm of Michael's words.
'Michael!' I hissed. 'Look at it.'
His brow furrowed. Then his face brightened. 'Apollo did, like, everything, and if he had a skill missing, he left it to his kids to sing it; we try to bring it, but we're probably failing, cos the dude's like a king.'
The serpent swayed, bobbing its head faster with the beat. Michael got into the rhythm, moving his hands in time to his rap. I had no idea where he was getting his inspiration from, but he produced a string of fast-paced lines that would have made the heaviest street rapper proud.
At last, the serpent uncurled from the door and opened its jaws wide-but only to yawn. A moment later, all billion of its eyes fluttered shut. It stretched out along the base of the WET COLLECTION shelves, snoozing.
I pulled off my hat. 'Well, that was ... interesting. Will did say you do a mean rap.'
Michael gave me a sheepish grin. 'Sort of a side hobby.' He frowned at the serpent. 'Not really the reaction I typically want from an audience, but let's go before it wakes up.'
The Ancient Medicine room would have looked like an ordinary pharmacy, only instead of medicine cabinets, it had shelves filled with ancient Greek jugs: amphoras, pithes, stenii. A full-length window looked out onto a bed of flowering plants in the museum garden. Although I wasn't an expert on flowers, I was pretty sure most of them made some dangerous poisons.
The walls were plastered with cheerful posters that said things like, Have you asked your doctor about Moly? and Eternity got you down? Try Hermultivites-guaranteed to put the godliness back in your step!
A service counter cut the room in half. On one end, a couple of prescription pads lay next to a cash register. Underneath were trays with eight-packs of Ambrosia Cough Drops (demigod-friendly) and Max Strength Nectar Suspension (godly use only). A sign over them advertised TWO FOR 4.99D (limited 6 packs per customer).
The pharmacist looked like she could have walked off one of those old pin-up posters from the 1950s. Her round, freckled cheeks were dabbed with rouge. A nurse's cap perched jauntily over her curly red hair. The name tag pinned to her starched white apron read PAMELA. The only thing missing was a bright smile. She scowled so fiercely when she saw us, she nearly went cross-eyed.
'Don't tell me Delphyne's sleeping on the job again!'
Michael and I looked at each other. 'Delphyne?'
'You couldn't have missed her. Big red serpent, a billion eyes?'
'Er, yeah, we met her.'
Pamela groaned. 'It's so hard to get good security these days. Unless ... either of you a relative of mine?'
'If by relative you mean a son of Apollo, then yeah.' Michael raised his hand. 'Me.'
'Well, that's all right, then.' Pamela's scowl relaxed. 'All these security checks. I swear, it's easier to get guns than meds these days. I told Apollo exclusivity kills sales, but he still insists ...' She sighed and clicked her fingers. 'Delphyne! Delphyne!'
The disembodied eyes of the chameleon serpent materialised along the wall, nearly giving me a heart attack. She slithered onto the counter and snaked her tongue out at Michael as though in greeting, before wandering up the shelves to curl around an old amphora.
'Hm.' Pamela raised an eyebrow. 'What did you do?'
Michael explained about his rap and she nodded. 'Well, that would do it. Delphyne's a sucker for anything with a good beat. She used to work for Typhon, you know, and that giant was like an all-in-one boombox.'
'Typhon?' I shuddered. Once upon a time, the storm giant had nearly caused the destruction of Olympus. Zeus had managed to trap him under a mountain, but not without some pretty serious mishaps during their battle.
'You mean the Delphyne,' Michael said. 'The one that guarded Zeus's tendons when Typhon stole them?'
Delphyne chittered as if to say, That's right, suckers!
Pamela nodded. 'Of course, Typhon's been out of action for millennia. Delphyne's kind of an odd serpent for hire now. But she likes this place.'
'I wonder why,' Michael murmured.
I shifted uncomfortably. Talking about Typhon reminded me of the volcanic explosion Percy and I had accidentally set off last year in the Pacific Northwest. And there was something else that had happened in the heart of Mount St Helens, something we'd never talked about ...
'So,' Pamela said, 'what can I do for you? Mud of Lemnos? Unicorn draught? Or ...' She rattled off a list of what I assumed were medications. 'Mind you, I'll need a prescription for anything stronger.'
'Er, actually, we just need some nectar and ambrosia,' Michael said. 'You can sell those over the counter, right? And something for pegasi, if you've got that.'
'Pegasi.' Pamela sniffed. 'Do I look like a vet?' But she slammed an amphora on the countertop and plucked a couple of the demigod-friendly ambrosia eight-packs from the trays. 'Well, fine. Here's your nectar and ambrosia. Though why anyone would want this stuff, with all the side effects ... especially when there's a better alternative.'
'A better alternative?' I asked.
Pamela's eyes gleamed. She clicked her fingers again. Delphyne materialised from her resting place on the shelves. Gods, that thing with the eyes was unnerving.
'Bring me a cutting, Delphyne,' she said.
The serpent slithered to the window. A moment later, we saw her weaving among the rows of medicinal plants. I guess she didn't just blend in with the walls; she actually moved through them.
Delphyne returned with a simple blue leaf, which she dropped into Pamela's outstretched hand. Pamela held it between two fingers like a precious stone. 'Behold. The cure-all. The prize of the pharmacy. You might call it ...' She paused for dramatic effect. 'A panacea.'
Mystified, I looked at Michael. He shrugged.
Pamela looked insulted. 'Oh, come on. Surely you've heard of it?'
'It's, uh ...' It sounded like one of those SAT prep words, the kind you memorise the meaning of but never actually use in everyday life. Except I could swear its etymology was Greek. 'Wait.' I squinted at her nametag. It did not, in fact, say PAMELA. 'You're Panacea.'
'Well, of course I am.' Pamela/Panacea looked even more disgruntled now. 'Who did you think I was?'
'Uh-we thought this place was run by a descendant of Apollo,' Michael said.
Panacea sniffed. 'Figures. Everyone knows the famous descendants. It's all about Asclepius, and Orpheus, and even Troilus. But when it comes to the goddess of medicines? Oh, no one cares about the pharmacist.' She slammed a new jug on the countertop. 'Even my sister gets more fame. Hygieia-oh, everyone knows about the Clean Hands Count campaign.'
'So, this, uh, panacea,' I said quickly, before she could go off on a rant. 'You were saying ... it cures everything?'
'Oh, it's strong enough to raise a slumbering coma patient,' Panacea said proudly. 'Though beyond that ...' She laughed. 'My father, Asclepius, once had a concoction that could revive the dead, but Great-Uncle Hades got pissed off about that and blasted him dead. Now that was one big Thanksgiving blowout. "You live by my rules, or you die under my roof," and all that.' She frowned. 'Hm. That's the wrong saying, isn't it?'
I pointed to the cutting. 'And that's-this plant?'
Panacea fingered the blue leaf. 'The mixture is distilled from the herb of invulnerability. It's so difficult to get right. But for the right price ...' Her smile was hungry. She closed her fist over the herb. 'Takes twenty-four hours to brew, but I might just have some already in stock ...' She stood on tiptoe and extracted a tiny vial from a shelf.
Michael took it carefully. 'Wow, thanks.'
'So the panacea, and I assume you still want the nectar and ambrosia? And powdered unicorn horn should work for your pegasi.' Panacea rang up the till. 'Can I get your OlympAid card?'
'What?'
'Or just the number if you don't have it on you. I assume you're insured under an AsclepiusCare health plan? No?' She made a tsking noise at our blank faces. 'Okay, that's five thousand drachma, then.'
'What?' I nearly dropped our purchases. 'We can't pay that!'
Panacea's nostrils flared. 'Excuse me? You don't want to pay for your medication?'
'No, that's not-it's just ... five thousand drachmas-that's-that's daylight robbery!'
'If you can't afford it-well, you should've gotten insured, shouldn't you?'
'But-I thought this place existed to help demigods!' Michael protested.
Panacea plucked the medicines out of our hands. Delphyne popped up on the counter, forming a threatening barrier.
'Forget it,' Panacea said. 'I have enough problems meeting my sales quotas without giving away stuff for free.'
Michael and I looked desperately at each other. We couldn't go back to our friends without supplies.
'Wait!' I said. 'Panacea. You-you say you're having a hard time meeting your sales quota?'
Panacea glowered at me over the top of Delphyne's billion blinking eyes.
'So-so-' I struggled for an idea. 'So maybe that's because you don't get enough foot traffic. I mean, with Apollo's restrictions on visitors to your pharmacy ... and I totally get that. You wouldn't want unscrupulous people stealing your formula.'
Delphyne gave a low hiss of agreement. Panacea stroked his scales thoughtfully. Emboldened, I went on.
'Sure, all the best pharmas guard their patents. But they also have a marketing strategy. Look at nectar and ambrosia: there's a huge market for it. Even you stock it.'
Panacea shook the kiddy-pack of ambrosia squares. 'Even though it's got awful side effects. But everyone wants it!'
'Exactly. It's all about demand. If you want to compete, you need a better strategy. See, the big pharmas, they start with free samples. That's how they break into the market. Add a good ad campaign ...' I snapped my fingers. 'Bam. Gold.'
Michael finally caught on. 'Yeah, even the best brands need a good ad to get their product out there. Like, uh, that Detrol ad.' He hummed a few bars of an old overactive bladder drug commercial.
Panacea continued to frown. I wasn't sure if she was buying it.
'Look.' I dug Daedalus's laptop out of my backpack. Thank the gods he'd programmed it to hook up to any available wifi signal, secured or not. I did a quick Google search for the Detrol jingle and found it on YouTube.
'Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go right now,' sang the ad.
'You could do that?' Panacea said dubiously.
'Sure! Of course, an ad campaign is just one part of it. You need the right distribution channels, too. And we can help with that. I mean, we go to a demigod camp. There's your niche market. You wouldn't have to wait for us to come to you-you could just sit and wait for the, uh, royalties to roll in from the sales!'
'Well ...'
'Look, how about we do a mock-up of the advertising?' Michael suggested. He rolled up his sleeves and gave me a significant look.
If I'd thought Michael's impromptu rap for Delphyne impressive, I hadn't heard anything yet. He broke into a dance/rap routine that extolled the virtues of panacea, the mighty cure-all, in rapid-fire ghetto rhyme. I don't know how he managed to come up with lines so quickly, but boy, the kid could rap.
Panacea's interest was definitely piqued. 'You think that would sell?'
'Absolutely,' I said. I typed a command into Daedalus's laptop. It ejected a recording of Michael's spontaneous ad routine on a USB stick. 'All we need is a couple of free samples-oh, and the formula. We'll be your licensed distributors. And we'll even forgo a commission.'
I held the stick between my fingers and tried to look confident and persuasive. Michael mopped his brow, breathing hard from his impassioned performance.
All of Delphyne's eyes flickered to Panacea, like, your call, though I thought-or hoped-maybe the serpent also had a hint of, can't beat that for a deal, in her gaze. Panacea nodded. Delphyne slid off the counter and back out to the garden. Panacea reached over her head for two things: a shallow bowl and a translucent vial. She set them down on the counter, then set a pen hovering over a prescription pad.
'There's a catch to this brew,' she said, letting the herb of invulnerability flutter into the bowl. 'The distillation creates a poison so strong, its fumes can knock out an immortal for days. Why, the first time I experimented with it ...' She shook her head sagely. 'The trick is gold.'
'Gold?' I asked. 'Like-drachmas?'
Panacea sniffed. 'That's tainted. Money and medicine should never mix.'
I thought it was probably best not to mention the exorbitant charge she'd just levied on us for her medicines. 'So you have to use-'
She unscrewed the lid of the vial. Inside, glittering flakes sparkled as bright as the Apollo cabin. 'Pure gold,' she said, dipping her fingers in the jug. Her voice turned slightly sing-song. 'A pinch for safety, two flicks to cure. Add a third when it settles, and a last drop to be sure.'
As she recited, her pen scribbled on the prescription pad, noting down her instructions. She added the gold flakes to the bowl, then poured in a glass of water. 'That should do it. Let it steep for twenty-four hours, no more, no less.'
Delphyne returned with more blue leaf cuttings. Panacea wrapped them in a filmy layer of animal skin (or possibly human, given the exhibits in this museum. I decided I didn't want to know.) She handed this over, along with the vial of gold flakes and three doses of ready-made panacea, the instruction sheet, and the rest of our meds.
I pressed the USB stick into her palm. Panacea took it with a gleeful expression. 'Watch out, Olympus. Million-drachma idea, right here!'
I imagined her going out to conquer OlympusTV with her new ad. Gods forbid I'd just created an immortal drug tycoon.
Michael and I packed the medicines carefully into my backpack.
'Nice rapping,' I told him.
He rubbed the back of his neck. 'Yeah, well, I seriously never thought that would ever come in handy.'
The sun was hanging low in the sky by the time we made it back to the National Historic Park. Beckendorf had drifted into unconsciousness by then, despite Silena's coaxing. His breathing was strained and shallow. Michael tipped a vial of panacea into his lips. Within seconds, his colour improved. The ugly red streaks spreading from his wound faded.
'It's working!' Silena looked like she could kiss Michael. 'What is this stuff?'
We explained about Panacea.
'Guess she wasn't kidding about the cure-all part,' Michael said. 'Here-' He passed a vial each to Percy and Clarisse. They popped the corks and drank. Clarisse bent her knee back and forth.
'That's good stuff, Yew,' she admitted.
'Yeah.' Percy unwrapped his arm and moved it in a circle, flexing his muscles as he did so. My throat went suddenly dry. I swallowed hard.
'Ungh.' Beckendorf's eyes fluttered open. Grateful for the distraction, I turned to him. So did Silena.
'Charlie! How are you feeling?'
Beckendorf sat up and put a hand to his forehead. 'Like I got sat on by Mrs O'Leary.'
Silena flung her arms around him. Beckendorf looked stunned, but pleased.
I looked out into the dusky twilight. 'I guess we should probably rest here for the night. Take care of the pegasi and start off tomorrow morning.'
No one argued. Clarisse passed around packs of fun-size chips from her supplies. Percy found a spare shirt somewhere and put it on (I was simultaneously relieved and disappointed). We rubbed powdered unicorn horn on the pegasi's hides while Michael and Silena set their broken wings and legs. Finally, I told the others to get some sleep.
'I'll take first watch.'
Chapter 7