The Spa of Lies

  “Excuse the interruption,” Annabeth said as she stepped through the door, her face somewhat serious.

  “Oh, little one, come in,” Circe said with a sweet, calm smile, slipping one of her hands beneath the desk and hiding the tiara.

  “I’m looking for Percy. He left me a note saying he was coming to speak with you,” Annabeth said, looking straight at the woman. One of Percy’s bags hung from her arm; he had left it right beside the note.

  “Oh, yes. He was here a moment ago, but he left just now. Perhaps you passed each other and didn’t notice,” she replied quickly, with a calmness that felt far too measured.

  “Mm. Is that so? Then why would he leave me a note?” Annabeth asked, staring at her with suspicion.

  “I truly have nothing more to add. The spa is quite large. Perhaps looking around a bit would not hurt you before you start pointing fingers,” Circe answered calmly, as if she were an adult guiding someone along the proper path of manners.

  Annabeth narrowed her eyes slightly, saying nothing more, yet not moving either. The silence, heavy with her thoughts, made Circe seem somewhat impatient, waiting for the girl to leave quickly.

  But at that moment, Circe glanced briefly at her right hand, the one holding the tiara, feeling a faint itch. Beneath the desk, she shifted the tiara to her other hand while continuing to wait for Annabeth to go. The itching in her right hand increased, forcing her to rub it gently. Her impatience grew with every passing second.

  “CUI, CUI, CUI, CUI.”

  The guinea pigs, for some reason, began squealing loudly in unison, creating a noisy moment that drew Annabeth’s attention. And Circe’s as well.

  “Oh, don’t mind them. They get like this when they’re hungry sometimes. After all, they’re animals,” Circe said calmly, though her smile was no longer quite as perfect.

  “Well. Then I’ll go look for Percy around the spa. But if I don’t find him, I suppose I’ll come back,” Annabeth said, still suspicious, glancing at the chaos among the animals.

  Then her gaze fixed on one guinea pig that seemed to be watching her patiently, as if waiting for something. Around it, the others were in complete chaos.

  That caught her attention.

  She remained there, standing still, looking directly at that small and gentle creature that, unlike the others, was neither screaming nor running in desperation.

  Circe seemed increasingly impatient as she noticed Annabeth was not leaving. The noise of the animals grew louder, sharper, as if something invisible were unsettling them.

  “Can you be quiet!” she shouted, irritated by the noise.

  That startled Annabeth for a moment, and she looked at her carefully; since she had arrived, Circe had behaved in no way other than kind.

  “And what the hell is wrong with this thing?” Circe suddenly shouted, as if she could not endure it any longer, throwing Annabeth’s tiara to the floor and beginning to scratch both hands desperately, as though she could not bear the itching.

  Then she looked at her hands and noticed her skin turning gray, spreading from her fingers as if she had been poisoned.

  She looked at the tiara with a truly furious glare. Then at the guinea pig Annabeth had been observing earlier.

  “You!” Circe said angrily, raising a hand. A blue flame floated above her palm, vibrant, intense; but not for long. The flame began to shrink rapidly until it went out completely.

  Circe stared at her hand in surprise. She moved it again, and this time, instead of fire, only weak sparks emerged. She lifted both hands as if about to cast a powerful spell, and for a moment it seemed as though everything around them began to shift in form.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  The walls rippled slightly. The air seemed to distort.

  A chill ran down Annabeth’s spine as the walls began to ripple like water held within a fragile shape. The floor seemed to tilt by barely a degree; enough for her balance to waver.

  And then, suddenly, everything stabilized. Not gently, but with restrained violence; as if something invisible had seized reality by the throat and forced it to remain steady.

  Circe seemed to clutch her chest, her breathing turning heavy.

  As if the pieces suddenly connected in her mind, Annabeth slipped her hand into the bag and pulled out the only thing inside: Hermes’ jar of vitamins. Without hesitation, she ran toward the guinea pig cage and threw all the vitamins inside.

  “What are you doing? Nooo!” Circe screamed at the sight of the jar in Annabeth’s hands, while she herself seemed to weaken and the gray color spread up her arms.

  The moment the vitamins fell into the cages, the guinea pigs began gnawing on them rapidly. Almost immediately, all of their bodies started to grow out of control. Their small forms stretched, bones cracked, fur vanished, and the cage exploded, unable to withstand it.

  Annabeth stood stunned as they became human. And men, specifically. Fully dressed as pirates, others as sailors, and some simply as handsome men who looked like the type who could deceive women with nothing more than a smile.

  Among them was Percy.

  He adjusted his clothes, making sure everything was in place, letting out a quiet sigh once he was satisfied.

  “Good. You arrived a little earlier than expected. If you had walked in at the exact moment, you would have found her unconscious with your tiara on her head and my clothes on the floor. It would have been simpler,” Percy said with a smile, looking at Annabeth.

  “You’re welcome,” Annabeth said sarcastically. “Idiot. What if I had failed? Or simply left without asking any more questions?” she added, looking at him seriously.

  “Come on. You?” Percy replied, as if that possibility did not even exist in his mind.

  Then he looked at Circe, who was staring at him with hatred, especially at the sight of the men standing behind him with truly wicked expressions. And yet, they still did nothing. As if waiting for a single word from him.

  “Well. No one ever taught you not to touch what isn’t yours,” Percy said while glancing at the tiara on the floor. He did not pick it up with his hands; it floated in front of him as he moved his hand slightly, using telekinesis.

  “I have my own tricks too. My master forces me to ingest poisons constantly to build resistance. Some leave marks on magic. Others leave them on the body,” he said with a faint smile. “I simply mixed a dose into the vitamins and spread it across the entire tiara. It seems the potency increased again.”

  He stepped a little closer.

  “And that strange feeling you have… that’s withdrawal. I was never supposed to try it, according to him. But in a dangerous world, you keep dangerous tools.”

  As he spoke, he slowly walked around Circe, who was beginning to feel strange effects in her body. More adrenaline. Emotions overflowing. An urgent need to consume something she could not even name.

  Percy searched through the desk until he pulled something out with a small flourish; a jar of beeswax.

  He approached Circe with a faint smile that almost looked genuinely kind.

  “You know, you were right about that thing with the smile. ‘And when they least expect it, their heads are already rolling on the ground.’ That’s the first thing my master taught me. Pretend to be a fool. And even if someone notices, they will still underestimate you, believing that by knowing it, they have you,” he said before stepping away again.

  “Brat, you can stop talking now. We truly want to begin our revenge,” said a man dressed in black, with an intimidatingly unkempt beard and a pirate hat.

  “Of course. It was a pleasure making a deal with you, Edward,” Percy said calmly.

  “Hmph. I told you to call me Blackbeard,” the pirate replied, though there was a slight smile of appreciation toward the boy before he tossed him a small bundle of celery.

  “Here’s your share, brat. And you can take my ship, as agreed, according to my desire for revenge. So you’d better disappear before I regret giving you the Queen Anne’s Revenge,” he said before drawing his sword and looking at Circe with truly deep hatred.

  “No. No. He’s the worst!” Circe screamed in panic. But her body did not seem to respond to her desire to flee. She was weakened, already showing clear signs of withdrawal.

  Percy grabbed Annabeth’s arm, who was still confused by everything happening, and led her out of the office.

  “That was… Edward Teach? Son of Ares?” she asked, stunned.

  “I suppose,” Percy replied calmly as they walked.

  Behind them, other pirates and furious men burst out in different directions throughout the spa. The workers began running for their lives, since they themselves knew what happened there. Meanwhile, the confused women had no idea what to do. Fortunately, those men still retained some awareness and did not attack blindly; they were not there for slaughter, only for revenge.

  So Percy walked beside Annabeth without quickening his pace, while behind them the spa collapsed amid screams and the sounds of revenge.

  “I’m not lending you my tiara again if this is how it ends,” Annabeth said, glancing back for a moment, witnessing what was probably the most reckless and destructive plan Percy had come up with so far.

  “Oh. But I didn’t use the tiara to plan all this,” Percy said with a smile as they walked toward the dock, where several boats were moored.