The Mark of Athena

“Who are you?” he demanded. “Does Kate stand for something?”

“Kate?” She looked momentarily confused. Then she glanced at her name tag. “Oh…” She laughed. “No, it’s —”

“Hello!” said a new voice, booming through the aquarium.

A small man scuttled out of the darkness. He walked sideways on bowed legs like a crab, his back hunched, his arms raised on either side like he was holding invisible plates.

He wore a wet suit that was several horrible shades of green. Glittery silver words printed down the side read: PORKY’S FOLLIES. A headset microphone was clamped over his greasy wiry hair. His eyes were milky blue, one higher than the other, and though he smiled, he didn’t look friendly—more like his face was being peeled back in a wind tunnel.

“Visitors!” the man said, the word thundering through the microphone. He had a DJ’s voice, deep and resonant, which did not at all match his appearance. “Welcome to Phorcys’s Follies!”

He swept his arms in one direction, as if directing their attention to an explosion. Nothing happened.

“Curse it,” the man grumbled. “Telkhines, that’s your cue! I wave my hands, and you leap energetically in your tank, do a synchronized double spin, and land in pyramid formation. We practiced this!”

The sea demons paid him no attention.

Coach Hedge leaned toward the crab man and sniffed his glittery wet suit. “Nice outfit.”

He didn’t sound like he was kidding. Of course, the satyr wore gym uniforms for fun.

“Thank you!” The man beamed. “I am Phorcys.”

Frank shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Why does your suit say Porky?”

Phorcys snarled. “Stupid uniform company! They can’t get anything right.”

Kate tapped her name tag. “I told them my name was Keto. They misspelled it as Kate. My brother…well, now he’s Porky.”

“I am not!” the man snapped. “I’m not even a little porky. The name doesn’t work with Follies, either. What kind of show is called Porky’s Follies? But you folks don’t want to hear us complain. Behold, the wondrous majesty of the giant killer squid!”

He gestured dramatically toward the squid tank. This time, fireworks shot off in front of the glass right on cue, sending up geysers of golden sparkles. Music swelled from the loudspeakers. The lights brightened and revealed the wondrous majesty of an empty tank.

The squid had apparently skulked back into its cave.

“Curse it!” Phorcys yelled again. He wheeled on his sister. “Keto, training the squid was your job. Juggling, I said. Maybe a bit of flesh-rending for the finale. Is that too much to ask?”

“He’s shy,” Keto said defensively. “Besides, each of his tentacles has sixty-two razorlike barbs that have to be sharpened daily.” She turned toward Frank. “Did you know the monstrous squid is the only beast known to eat demigods whole, armor and all, without getting indigestion? It’s true!”

Frank stumbled away from her, hugging his gut as if making sure he was still in one piece.

“Keto!” Porky snapped—literally, since he clicked his fingers to his thumbs like crab claws. “You’ll bore our guests with so much information. Less education, more entertainment! We’ve discussed this.”

“But—”

“No buts! We’re here to present ‘Death in the Deep Seas!’ Sponsored by Monster Donut!”

The last words reverberated through the room with extra echo. Lights flashed. Smoke clouds billowed from the floor, making donut-shaped rings that smelled like real donuts.

“Available at the concession stand,” Phorcys advised. “But you’ve spent your hard-earned denarii to get the VIP tour, and so you shall! Come with me!”

“Um, hold it,” Percy said.

Phorcys’s smile melted in an ugly way. “Yes?”

“You’re a sea god, aren’t you?” Percy asked. “Son of Gaea?”

The crab man sighed. “Five thousand years, and I’m still known as Gaea’s little boy. Never mind that I’m one of the oldest sea gods in existence. Older than your upstart father, by the way. I’m god of the hidden depths! Lord of watery terrors! Father of a thousand monsters! But, no…nobody even knows me. I make one little mistake, supporting the Titans in their war, and I’m exiled from the ocean—to Atlanta, of all places.”

“We thought the Olympians said Atlantis,” Keto explained. “Their idea of a joke, I guess, sending us here instead.”

Percy narrowed his eyes. “And you’re a goddess?”

“Keto, yes!” She smiled happily. “Goddess of sea monsters, naturally! Whales, sharks, squids, and other giant sea life, but my heart always belonged to the monsters. Did you know that young sea serpents can regurgitate the flesh of their victims and keep themselves fed for up to six years on the same meal? It’s true!”

Frank was still clutching his stomach like he was going to be sick.

Coach Hedge whistled. “Six years? That’s fascinating.”

“I know!” Keto beamed.