The House of Hades (Heroes of Olympus Book 4)

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!’
    ‘Gaia 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 Gaia destroys the world.’
    The muzzles of Sciron’s pistols wavered. ‘Pardon?’
    ‘Gaia 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 Gaia 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.’
    Hazel climbed out of her pile of treasure. She led Jason as far away as she dared – about fifty feet down the cliff, which she hoped was out of earshot.
    ‘Sciron kicks his victims off the cliff,’ she whispered.
    Jason scowled. ‘What?’
    ‘When you kneel down to wash his feet,’ Hazel said. ‘That’s how he kills you. When you’re off-balance, woozy from the smell of his feet, he’ll kick you over the edge. You’ll fall right into the mouth of his giant turtle.’
    Jason took a moment to digest that, so to speak. He glanced over the cliff, where the turtle’s massive shell glinted just under the water.
    ‘So we have to fight,’ Jason said.
    ‘Sciron’s too fast,’ Hazel said. ‘He’ll kill us both.’
    ‘Then I’ll be ready to fly. When he kicks me over, I’ll float halfway down the cliff. Then when he kicks you, I’ll catch you.’
    Hazel shook her head. ‘If he kicks you hard and fast enough, you’ll be too dazed to fly. And, even if you can, Sciron’s got the eyes of a marksman. He’ll watch you fall. If you hover, he’ll just shoot you out of the air.’
    ‘Then …’ Jason clenched his sword hilt. ‘I hope you have another idea?’
    A few feet away, Gale the weasel appeared from thebushes. She gnashed her teeth and peered at Hazel as if to