Something about the turtle. Hazel couldn’t remember.
“Theseus was such a cheater!” Sciron complained. “I don’t want to talk about him. I’m back from the dead now. Gaea promised me I could stay on the coastline and rob all the demigods I wanted, and that’s what I’m going to do! Now…where were we?”
“You were about to let us go,” Hazel ventured.
“Hmm…” Sciron said. “No, I’m pretty sure that wasn’t it. Ah, right! Money or your life. Where are your valuables? No valuables? Then I’ll have to—”
“Wait,” Hazel said. “I have our valuables. At least, I can get them. ”
Sciron pointed a flintlock at Jason’s head. “Well, then, my dear, hop to it, or my next shot will cut off more than your friend’s hair!”
Hazel hardly needed to concentrate. She was so anxious, the ground rumbled beneath her and immediately yielded a bumper crop—precious metals popping to the surface as though the dirt was anxious to expel them.
She found herself surrounded by a knee-high mound of treasure—Roman denarii, silver drachmas, ancient gold jewelry, glittering diamonds and topaz and rubies—enough to fill several lawn bags.
Sciron laughed with delight. “How in the world did you do that?”
Hazel didn’t answer. She thought about all the coins that had appeared at the crossroads with Hecate. Here were even more—centuries’ worth of hidden wealth from every empire that had ever claimed this land—Greek, Roman, Byzantine, and so many others. Those empires were gone, leaving only a barren coastline for Sciron the bandit.
That thought made her feel small and powerless.
“Just take the treasure,” she said. “Let us go. ”
Sciron chuckled. “Oh, but I did say all your valuables. I understand you’re holding something very special on that ship…a certain ivory-and-gold statue about, say, forty feet tall?”
The sweat started to dry on Hazel’s neck, sending a shiver down her back.
Jason stepped forward. Despite the gun pointed at his face, his eyes were
as hard as sapphires. “The statue isn’t negotiable. ”
“You’re right, it’s not!” Sciron agreed. “I must have it!”
“Gaea told you about it,” Hazel guessed. “She ordered you to take it. ”
Sciron shrugged. “Maybe. But she told me I could keep it for myself. Hard to pass up that offer! I don’t intend to die again, my friends. I intend to live a long life as a very wealthy man!”
“The statue won’t do you any good,” Hazel said. “Not if Gaea destroys the world. ”
The muzzles of Sciron’s pistols wavered. “Pardon?”
“Gaea is using you,” Hazel said. “If you take that statue, we won’t be able to defeat her. She’s planning on wiping all mortals and demigods off the face of the earth, letting her giants and monsters take over. So where will you spend your gold, Sciron? Assuming Gaea even lets you live. ”
Hazel let that sink in. She figured Sciron would have no trouble believing in double-crosses, being a bandit and all.
He was silent for a count of ten.
Finally his smile lines returned.
“All right!” he said. “I’m not unreasonable. Keep the statue. ”
Jason blinked. “We can go?”
“Just one more thing,” Sciron said. “I always demand a show of respect. Before I let my victims leave, I insist that they wash my feet. ”
Hazel wasn’t sure she’d heard him right. Then Sciron kicked off his leather boots, one after the other. His bare feet were the most disgusting things Hazel had ever seen…and she had seen some very disgusting things.
They were puffy, wrinkled, and white as dough, as if they’d been soaking in formaldehyde for a few centuries. Tufts of brown hair sprouted from each misshapen toe. His jagged toenails were green and yellow, like a tortoise’s shell.
Then the smell hit her. Hazel didn’t know if her father’s Underworld palace had a cafeteria for zombies, but if it did, that cafeteria would smell like Sciron’s feet.
“So!” Sciron wriggled his disgusting toes. “Who wants the left, and who wants the right?”
Jason’s face turned almost as white as those feet. “You’ve…got to be kidding. ”
“Not at all!” Sciron said. “Wash my feet, and we’re done. I’ll send you back down the cliff. I promise on the River Styx. ”
He made that promise so easily, alarm bells rang in Hazel’s mind. Feet. Send you back down the cliff. Tortoise shell.
The story came back to her, all the missing pieces fitting into place. She remembered how Sciron killed his victims.
“Could we have a moment?” Hazel asked the bandit.
Sciron’s eyes narrowed. “What for?”
“Well, it’s a big decision,” she said. “Left foot, right foot. We need to discuss. ”
She could tell he was smiling under the mask.
“Of course,” he said. “I’m so generous, you can have two minutes. ”