Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy was supposed to patrol and make sure nothing out of the ordinary was happening, that nobody was approaching the top of the mountain. And he was doing that… sort of.

He got curious, okay? That French accent the monster had intrigued him and he was carrying with him a faint-looking girl around Percy’s age that looked shaken up but angry despite how weak she seemed to be. Percy didn’t know who she was, but her presence must have annoyed the French Manticore because he dragged her forward, up the mountain, like he wanted to do just about anything else.

Silently, Percy followed the Manticore, heart beating in his chest as he tried to hear the threats the girl kept on spitting out, like she could actually do anything when she looked as ragged as she was. Her eyes were stormy and wild and her clothes a little ripped. She had a few scrapes and cuts and her cheeks were flushed from fury and adrenaline.

She was kind of the most beautiful person Percy has ever seen—after his mom, but that was a sore subject.

Hiding in the shadows, Percy watched as the Manticore shoved the girl forward, to the top, where the sky was being held by Atlas. Or… where it should have been held by Atlas. Instead, the person kneeling down on the ground, sweating and shivering and getting crushed, was Luke—the one who’d found Percy so long ago and brought him over to join their little army that grew bigger and bigger as time went by.

It baffled Percy to see Luke burdened with Atlas’s task because last he checked, Atlas wasn’t supposed to leave his job to anyone else—especially a fragile mortal or demigod that would surely not survive for a long enough time for the sky to not crush everyone underneath it. Yet he was there, obviously struggling immensely under the great weight.

The girl didn’t seem to notice Luke at first. She took a few steps forward at the Manticore’s shove and then turned around, enraged. Percy flinched a little but kept an eye on her as she seemed to search the area. The Manticore was nowhere to be found now—Percy wasn’t even sure how he ended up leaving without being seen or heard this quickly, but he clearly wasn’t around.

“Thorn!” the girl cried out in rage. “Where are you? Why did you bring me here?”

And then she turned around and her gaze fixated on Luke immediately. Her gasp let Percy know that for sure.

Percy strained his ears as Luke begged the girl for help—did he call her Annabeth?—and for some reason the girl ran toward him like she knew exactly who Luke was even though Percy has never seen her before and she was clearly not a part of their group—she was… different. Something about her seemed different to him. Maybe because she wasn’t fearing Luke or because she was led there by the Manticore—Thorn?

“What happened?” The girl asked and Percy was pretty sure she just withdrew her hand from touching Luke’s cheek. Were they familiar with each other? Were they friends?

“They left me here,” Luke said, voice strained. Percy’s eyebrows drew together. He was fairly certain that wouldn’t have happened. The weight of the sky had to be taken by someone willing—so how could anyone just leave Luke there? Besides, Percy was still there. And there were other… creatures, too. They were all still present and around—Luke had to be delusional from carrying the sky, right? “Please, it's killing me.”

The girl didn’t move. “Why should I trust you?” she asked.

Yeah, Percy was pretty sure they used to be friends. Maybe really close, too. And now her tone suggested that she’s been betrayed by Luke in some sort of way. He wasn’t sure what had happened, but he was curious to find out.

“You shouldn’t,” Luke replied. Percy wasn’t sure that was the answer the girl was expecting because she looked a little surprised for a moment. “I’ve been terrible to you. But if you don’t help me, I’ll die,” he said, like it was the simplest thing in the world to state. Just another fact.

Percy wasn’t convinced—Luke would be fine. They would just… get Atlas back, right? They could do that…

The sky started crumbling a little and Luke grunted as he shook even more from the effort of holding it all up. That seemed to convince the girl, though, because she immediately took her place beside Luke and held her hands up to help him. For a moment they both carried the burden of the sky together and Percy could tell the girl was straining herself beyond anything she’s ever been forced to do before.

And then Luke rolled away and gasped a thank you to her. He looked awful, but Percy couldn’t bring himself to feel sorry for him when the girl suddenly whimpered in pain as the weight of the sky was left for her to hold by herself.

“Help me hold it,” she groaned.

Luke stood up, looking very unsteady on his feet as he caught his breath. He didn’t seem to care about what the girl was doing—he just turned around to the depths of the mountain.

“I knew I could count on you.”

“HELP ME!” The girl pleaded, shaking so badly that Percy’s hands clenched. Where was Atlas? What was happening? Why was this random girl being forced to hold the sky? Why was Luke just walking away from her?

“Oh, don’t worry,” Luke told her, voice a little less weak. Percy kind of felt like punching him in the face right now. “Your help is on the way. It’s all part of the plan. In the meantime, try not to die.”

And he walked away.

Percy watched his back, mouth gaping open as he tried to comprehend what was happening before his eyes. And then he focused on the girl again. She was kneeling closer to the floor now, seemingly unable to keep herself up any longer without any help. She was whimpering in pain and her face was already slick with sweat. Her eyes were half-closed, like she was about to faint any moment now from the pain.

He wasn’t sure what was happening—wasn’t sure how any of this was considered a plan—but wherever the girl’s rescue party was, it couldn’t be close enough to the top of this mountain because she looked like she would pass out any moment now and if that were to happen, the sky would crush her and everyone else, including Percy himself.

Glancing around to make sure there was nobody else around, Percy held his breath and then ran toward the suffering girl. She barely reacted to his presence right in front of her, her eyes now nearly completely shut. Her entire body was shaking and she wasn’t even whimpering, apparently too tired to even open her mouth unless it was to breathe shakily.

Despite how unappealing it seemed to be, Percy gulped and squared his shoulders as he knelt down by the girl’s side. He tried to make himself as comfortable as possible before he hesitantly put his hands up until they made contact with the cold sky. And then he put some effort behind it and suddenly he felt like something was trying to squash him into a two-dimensional character.

It was the heaviest thing Percy has ever carried. It was worse than those armors and shields Luke handed him at the beginning. Worse than the water bottles his mom had told him to carry up to their apartment once, years ago. Then again, he kind of expected it to be like nothing he’s ever dealt with before.

That didn’t mean Percy had to be prepared for just how heavy the sky was. It was kind of ridiculous to think about, really—the sky being heavy when it mostly consisted of, you know, air and different types of gas. It shouldn’t have been as heavy as it was, and yet here Percy was, carrying as much as he could with this girl, his entire body shaking along with hers, now.

He remembered running for what felt like hours about two years ago, escaping a monster that wanted to kill him. He remembered how sweaty and tired he was back then, thinking it couldn’t possibly get any worse than that.

Yeah, no—he was definitely kidding himself with that one.

“What…?” The girl’s eyes opened a little and she turned her head just enough to look at Percy.

His vision was a little blurry from the exertion but he could tell she was baffled by his presence there. “You needed help,” was all he managed to say before he groaned in pain and closed his eyes tightly. This was the worst thing in the world. He would never have volunteered to do anything like this, but… he didn’t really regret it, either. This girl had to carry it all by herself—Percy wasn’t going to let her if he could help.

Even if this sucked. Absolutely sucked.

Apparently the girl didn’t need anything more from him. She just nodded a little, like that explained everything, and then closed her eyes and kept quiet with him as they both got crushed further and further by the weight of the sky for what must have been hours.

Percy’s mind was too dazed for him to comprehend what was happening around him when Atlas came back with Luke. They both looked at Annabeth first and then moved their eyes to him and he wasn’t sure what it was that flashed in their eyes, but he didn’t like it.

Not that it mattered—he was too busy nearly gurgling from just how painful and impossible it was to keep on holding up the sky like that, even with Annabeth by his side, struggling just as much.

He knew they were speaking and he could vaguely see another shape of someone else in the room, but it was just so hard to really focus on anything other than the sky weighing him down, so he let their words glide over him and only glanced up when a new figure came forward.

She was young—younger than him. Her body was covered in a torn silver dress and her arms and face were bleeding from cuts, but her blood wasn’t red—it was golden, like the ichor flowing through the veins of the immortals. Percy looked up into her face as she approached Annabeth and him and found wise silvery or maybe golden eyes staring back. They had this kind of appearance, like she was older than she seemed to be.

Her hands and feet were bound by chains that seemed to keep her trapped even though he was pretty sure he could feel the power emanating from her being.

And then she turned around and held her hands out and Luke stepped forward and cut through the chains. Percy watched with hazy eyes as the young girl ran forward and bent down to take the sky on her own shoulders.

The moment she was holding up the sky—somehow looking like she was managing a lot better than the two of them—Percy and Annabeth let go and collapsed on the ground. He could feel Annabeth’s body right next to him as she shivered and gasped the same way he did. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand to show some kind of comfort, but he could barely force his own body to move right now.

“Luke,” Atlas’s voice cut through Percy’s slow thoughts. “You may kill the girl now.”

Percy coughed. “N-no…!” he gasped out, his voice barely even heard in the room.

The girl holding the sky managed a little better, though. “No!” she yelled.

Luke looked reluctant. “She—she may yet be useful, sir,” he said uncertainly, like he thought Atlas would kill him. Percy wanted to shout at him to make his argument more convincing somehow, but he could barely even utter that one word earlier. “Further bait.”

“Bah! You truly believe that?”

“Yes, General,” Luke said, voice a little stronger now. “They will come for her. I’m sure.”

Percy watched Annabeth through half-lidded eyes as she seemed to be trying to say something. It strained her too much, though, because she ended up just shivering some more. Percy could relate.

“Then the dracaena can guard her here,” Atlas said.

Percy struggled to sit up, his vision swimming a little as he did so, yet he tried not to show it too much. “No,” he protested weakly. He could feel the girl looking at him despite her heavy burden. He could see Annabeth twisting her head just enough to stare at him, her eyes flashing in a way that made him push himself harder because he couldn’t let those monsters keep her safe—not after all of this. “I’ll do it—let me guard her.”

Luke narrowed his eyes at Percy. “You were supposed to keep watch, Percy,” he reminded him. “Why did you come here?”

He didn’t have enough energy to explain everything. And a part of him warned him about revealing too much to Luke, anyway—the same part that has been warning him about a lot of things regarding the company he was hanging around with for nearly two years now.

The guy groaned. “Will you ever listen to what you’re being told? The number of times I caught you sneaking down the mountain…” Luke muttered under his breath in exasperation, shaking his head.

“Luke, let me do it,” Percy pleaded.

“Bah! It doesn’t matter who watches her,” Atlas said and Percy took that as his approval. Luke just spared Percy another look before averting his gaze to watch the Titan again. “Assuming she doesn’t die from her injuries, you may keep her alive until winter solstice,” Atlas continued, eyes moving from Percy to Luke as he spoke to both of them. “After that, if our sacrifice goes as planned, her life will be meaningless. The lives of all mortals will be meaningless.”

Percy definitely didn’t like the sound of that.

Luke balled his hands into fists and then turned to Percy. “Take her to one of the empty quarters, then, and get her some food,” he ordered and Percy felt like he might actually cry from how painful this sounded. He didn’t, though, and just nodded a little, his neck aching. “Be sure to lock the door so she doesn’t escape, Percy. Don’t underestimate her.”

He pushed himself shakily to his legs and then steadied himself as quickly as he could and glanced down to where Annabeth was staring at him with an unreadable expression on her face. She let him haul her to her feet, though, shivering against him as she leaned on him like she was going to keel over—he felt the same, honestly, but he tried not to crumple, knowing it would make them both fall back down.

Instead, he started leading her deeper into the mountain. There were rooms inside, carved into the place. It was all made of some kind of black stone that made Percy want to run away and hide but he kept on going toward the only room he remembered should be empty.

There wasn’t much inside—just a bed and a restroom attached to it. Percy couldn’t imagine it would be very interesting to stay in, but the bed did look very inviting right about now. He felt a little like he was walking in a dream as he walked the girl toward the bed and then helped her sit on its edge.

“Why did you do that?” she asked, voice smaller than it was when she’d arrived hours ago.

Percy steadied himself as he leaned against the wall of the room, everything tilting a little as he tried to reorientate himself. “What?”

“Why did you do it? Why did you help me with the sky if you work for Kronos?” she asked, this time sounding a little sterner, more demanding.

He shook his head. “You needed help,” he said. “And I don’t work for Kronos. I’m…” he trailed off and shook his head a little helplessly. “I don’t know. It’s complicated, I guess… I don’t know anything other than that.”

She regarded him for a moment or two and then sighed and leaned back until she was lying on the bed tiredly. “Thanks,” she said in a quiet whisper that Percy wasn’t sure he was supposed to hear.

“Don’t thank me—you’re still stuck here,” he said and then walked out of there as quickly as his shaky legs would let him. He locked the door (though he felt like a jerk as he did so) and headed off to search for food for Annabeth and—hopefully—for himself, as well.

The next time Percy entered Annabeth’s room to give her another meal was when the sky was dark and stars started dotting them beautifully. Percy hasn’t seen Luke since he was given (chose, really) the task of looking over Annabeth to make sure she was safe but didn’t escape the mountain.

He paced out her door, feeling anxious and worried and confused. He had no idea what was going on and he wasn’t sure why they needed the girl to even be there in the first place. To carry the sky? It sounded stupid. Did they just want her because they wanted to have fun killing someone? That particular thought mostly made Percy sick for his stomach.

A part of him kept on wondering how Annabeth knew Luke. There seemed to be a shared past there that Percy wasn’t privy to and he wasn’t really feeling like asking Luke about it. The guy creeped him out the longer he stayed in his company and frankly, Percy would rather ask the trapped girl about what was happening than get Luke worked up for some reason or another.

It wasn’t that he thought Luke might hurt him—he knew he won’t. The guy had to keep him safe. That was one of the only things Percy knew for certain about Kronos—the Titan wanted him to be kept alive and to be trained until he could fight as good as he possibly could. Which made his training sessions with Luke very intense and demanding.

At first it was kind of fun because Percy wasn’t half bad when it came to wielding a sword. Luke himself admitted that he was really great with a blade, and Luke was the best swordsman Percy has ever witness before. Their sessions used to consist of the two of them slashing at each other while also chatting casually, grinning and enjoying themselves by doing something they both liked.

And then Kronos demanded more from Luke, though Percy wasn’t sure what the plans even were, and suddenly Luke looked more… ill. Like he was doing things he wasn’t too thrilled about, but he had to and it was taking a toll on him. A toll that Percy couldn’t know anything about, apparently, because Luke never answered his questions and only pressed him harder, to know to fight better, to be more obedient, which definitely didn’t sit right with Percy.

There were plenty of times in which Percy had ended up getting caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to do. There were so many limitations on him that Percy didn’t understand nor did he care for. Like talking to other demigods that were around—that was a big no-no, for some odd reason. And he couldn’t—wasn’t allowed to—ever try and pray to the gods, no matter what it was about. Only to Kronos.

And after countless accidents Percy was a little suspicious about yet didn’t bother asking about any longer, Percy wasn’t allowed near the sea or any source of water that wasn’t absolutely necessary. Which was also the one rule he kept on breaking because the sea was right there and Percy felt like it was calling his name whenever he got even a little close to it, like it was an old friend.

He got caught talking to the naiads inside—giggling girls that lived in the water and were extremely friendly toward Percy but frowned every time someone else approached—like Luke or a monster—as if they were upset with them for some reason. Percy didn’t understand it—the naiads were so nice and pleasant to be around and even if they mostly just giggled and grinned and listened to him, it was nice to have someone around who wanted nothing from him.

Once, Percy was found getting out of the sea after a fish called for him (that was a weird moment, but Percy just kind of… let the weirdness of it be and focused on what was going on), begging Percy to come underwater to help some kind of sea creature that was trapped there. It was honestly one of the weirdest moments of Percy’s life, when he went into the sea, held his breath and then noticed he could see everything perfectly in the water.

That was also the day he started to really suspect why he was being kept as far away from the water. Why he was forbidden from coming into contact with it. He learned that he could breathe underwater and understand the sea creatures and that they were very friendly and called him ‘lord’ even though he didn’t feel like he deserved such a title, no matter who he was.

And it was the day he’d saved Bessie.

It was some kind of… sea serpent… with the top half of his body looking like a cow. Percy couldn’t understand that creatures and he’s never seen anything like it, but he still worked hard to untangle him from the trap he got caught in, Bessie mooing at him the entire time.

At some point the fish corrected Percy and told him that Bessie was male and not female, but that didn’t matter—Bessie didn’t act too offended once he was set free and nuzzled Percy happily, mooing some more, this time sounding much more enthusiastic and less solemn at being trapped by a net that got drifted into sea by some reckless fisherman.

Luckily, Bessie wasn’t seen by Luke once Percy came back out of the water, lying through his teeth about how he just wanted to test out how long he could hold his breath underwater (because if they were going to try and keep him from the water to hide a secret Percy was strongly suspecting, then he wasn’t going to let them know he just learned a bunch of new, cool things about himself).

And now… well, technically, Percy probably wasn’t supposed to come into Annabeth’s room and linger inside, but… yeah, he wasn’t really obedient at all. Luke knew that. Kronos must have known about it, as well.

He knocked on the door, balancing the tray of food he was holding with one hand. It only consisted of a sandwich because there was nobody around to make food and Percy sucked in the kitchen, but it was better than nothing. Plus, there was a water bottle added to it and a bag of M&Ms that Percy managed to find and slip away during one of his visits (read: unauthorized visit) to the nearest city.

“Sure,” Annabeth’s voice reached his ears, muffled by the door separating them. “Come in, I guess.”

Percy pushed open the door and found the girl still lying in bed. Her hair was framing her face, almost making her look angelic, in a way. There was a silver strand in it now—a souvenir from carrying the sky that Percy matched as well, though it was more noticeable for him because his hair was dark and the gray lines kind of stood out like stars in the night sky.

“Hey,” he said hesitantly. Technically, they were enemies. He didn’t need anyone to explain that part to him—Luke had tricked this girl. Atlas threatened that he would kill her soon if things went according to plan. They weren’t supposed to get along, but she didn’t look monstrous to him and he didn’t really feel like fighting anyone despite all his lessons with Luke.

The girl hummed a little and tilted her head to the side until her gray eyes were on him. He could basically see her thinking, calculating her next move as he shuffled his feet awkwardly, unsure as to what he could possibly say. She was being kept there against her will. Percy volunteered to make sure she couldn’t escape.

He felt like a jerk for being the one to stand between her and freedom (and a whole lot of monsters, too), but he couldn’t just let her go. There was something going on—something that nobody was explaining to him even though he was aware of the fact that Luke knew Percy would play a big part in what was to come. And if anyone would be able to explain things to him, Annabeth might be that person.

Annabeth blinked and suddenly her gaze was trained on the door still hanging open behind Percy’s back. Self-consciously, he closed and locked it behind him, almost hearing Annabeth’s disappointment.

Percy drew his eyes away from Annabeth’s, feeling like too much of a jerk to look straight at her right now, and his gaze fell on the last tray of food he’d given Annabeth. He was worried she might not touch it because Annabeth looked frail but also very determined not to show weakness and her eyes were burning with fury and defiance as he’d put the tray next to her bed, unsure as to whether he should do anything more.

His mind kept on telling him that she might dismiss the food, thinking it was poisoned or believing it would be better off to just die from starvation than whatever was planned for her by Atlas and Luke (and Kronos).

But the tray was empty, meaning she’d eaten it all. And this time, as Percy replaced the old tray with the new one (the tray itself really wasn’t necessary when all he was giving her was some water and a sandwich, but whatever), he didn’t feel like she was glaring at him in accusation. Instead, her eyes were almost searching, like she was trying to figure him out. He was confusing her, somehow, and she seemed to want to be able to explain everything happening around her.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, immediately regretting the words.

He felt like an idiot, asking the prisoner how she was feeling as she was being brought a lame meal, locked in a room and being guarded by him after she had to carry the sky because Luke had tricked her (though he did warn her that she shouldn’t trust him, which didn’t seem to deter her as much as it should have, huh?). Annabeth has been through a lot in this day alone, and that was without him even knowing how she ended up being led to them by that Manticore.

So asking her how she was doing… it was a stupid thing to do, really.

Annabeth stared at him wordlessly for a long moment or two, her eyes following his movement as he cringed but still didn’t move away from her, and back over to the door.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“Percy,” he replied.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “But who are you really? You said you don’t work for Kronos, so why are you with Luke?”

Percy kicked the ground and dropped his gaze. “It’s complicated.”

“That’s what you said last time,” Annabeth reminded him.

He cracked a small smile. “Well, it is. And I have no idea who you are, so forgive me if I’m a little reluctant to talk about it,” he said with as chipper a voice as he could muster.

Annabeth stared at him. “My name is Annabeth,” she said.

“I know,” he said. Percy glanced back at her eyes briefly—gray and stormy and thoughtful. She was really determined to figure him out, wasn’t she? He wasn’t sure why or what she wanted to gain by that, but he could just tell by the look on her face that she felt a strong need to know more about him.

He confused her, he figured. His choice to help her with the sky made her want to figure him out because he wasn’t what she’d expected him to be like. He was her enemy, and she seemed to know that, but he still did something she didn’t see coming and helped her. It baffled her—her eyes gave that away. And it didn’t sit right with her that she couldn’t know what his motives were or why he’d made that choice back then.

Annabeth sat up and ignored the food on the tray as she kept on staring at Percy, making him feel kind of like he was being judged on the spot by her. He wasn’t sure what the verdict would be. “I’m a daughter of Athena,” Annabeth continued.

Percy blinked at her twice and offered her a small smile. “Isn’t she the goddess of wisdom?”

“Yes.”

“Then can’t you use your, like, super-brain to figure me out on your own?” he teased.

Annabeth hummed. “You’re a demigod, too, right?” she asked, ignoring his comment. Percy shrugged and nodded. “Who’s your parent, then?”

He shrugged again. “Not sure,” he said, though he still remembered Bessie swimming in the sea with the talking fish and the warm and cold currents Percy probably wasn’t supposed to be able to see. Oh, and the fact that he could breathe underwater was another pretty big clue, but he didn’t feel like talking about it. “He’s never really talked to me, you know.”

“Let me guess—you’re bitter about that?”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe a little,” he said. He thought it was an understatement because his dad was a god and therefore could obviously help Percy’s mother when she got so sick, but that was only wishful thinking at this point—his father never did a thing for the two of them. “At this point, I’m mostly just glad I don’t have another parent I can somehow miss. I’ve never met him, so I don’t feel much toward him.”

“So why did you join Kronos’s army, then?” Annabeth asked.

“Luke found me,” Percy answered, shuffling his feet again. He looked away from Annabeth’s intense gaze and instead focused on the sandwich he’d made for her. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go and he was really friendly. He didn’t tell me much—just that I was a demigod and that the gods were real and that they sucked.” He looked at the water bottle next. “I didn’t have other options—I just went with him.”

“You didn’t know you were a demigod?” Annabeth asked, a note of actual confusion in her voice.

Percy looked at her again, his eyebrows raised. “No. Mom never mentioned anything about it,” he said. “And I knew weird things kept on happening around me, but I never really knew why. Luke was the first to really explain it to me,” he said and then bit his lip. “I’m not sure the gods are really as terrible as he made them out to be, though.”

The girl looked surprised by this last part.

“Yeah… my mom used to tell me these stories about my dad. She never said anything too specific, but she never sounded bitter or angry. She talked about him like she really did love him, and my mom was the best person in the world. If she thought my dad was a good guy, then I’m going to trust her judgement,” he said with a shrug.

Annabeth’s mouth opened to say something and Percy was certain she would ask him about his constant use of the past tense with his mom, but then she slammed it back shut and instead looked down at the sandwich on the tray, her eyes less thoughtful and instead just sadder.

Then she reached out, grabbed the sandwich and tore it in half. Percy stared at her as she held out one half to him, a small smile on her face. “Annabeth Chase,” she introduced herself fully, the strand of gray hair almost glinting as he stared at her in wonder. “And I get that Luke was the first to offer you an explanation, but maybe you should hear another opinion, too. You might agree with it, more.”

He grabbed the offered half from her, feeling a little hesitant but also hopeful, because if she was offering him actual answers to some of the things he still didn’t understand that Kronos and Luke didn’t want him to know, then he would take it.

It was something his mom had told him once—asking questions didn’t make him dumb or stupid. It made him curious. Asking questions was a good thing. It meant he cared enough to search for the truth and for what mattered to him. People who withheld information from him kind of made Percy feel like he was being held back from learning and from expanding.

That was probably what Kronos wanted—for Percy to remain as oblivious to everything as was possible. Percy wasn’t sure whether it was because less information meant less chances of Percy betraying him in some way by giving said information to other people or because he was easier to control when he had information being dangled in front of him, kept out of reach. It was really hard to tell, but Percy still rolled with it because, well, nobody seemed to be offering more.

If Annabeth could answer some of his questions… if she could tell him the things that Kronos was refusing to indulge him with…

“Percy Jackson,” Percy said.

The girl’s eyes flashed and she gaped at Percy like she was seeing him for the first time.

“What?” he asked. “What is it?”

She shook her head, almost in a daze, and then pursed her lips. “Chiron has mentioned you before,” she said slowly, like she wasn’t sure she should really bring it up, yet she still chose to say something. Percy was glad—it was already better than Luke’s silence. “He said you disappeared. That we needed to find you because you might be important,” she continued and then bit the inside of her cheek. “I thought you were dead, at this point.”

“Who’s Chiron?” Percy asked. “You don’t mean, like, the trainer of heroes, right? Because… I mean, he should be dead by now.”

“He’s immortal,” Annabeth explained. “As long as he is needed, he would be alive.”

Percy drew his eyebrows together. “And he… knows me?”

“Said he was your teacher,” Annabeth said, clearly analyzing his reaction to her words. “You might remember him—Mr. Brunner.”

His breath caught in his throat and his hand instinctively traveled down. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his familiar pen, rolling it between his fingers as he remembered the weapon being tossed in his direction by a man sitting in a wheelchair that had vanished after that and left Percy shaking from leg to toe in his place, in front of a pile of dust that used to be his math teacher.

Annabeth’s expression softened a tad at the distress he could tell was plastered all over his face. “Sleep on it, Percy,” she said rather kindly. Then she leaned back against the wall next to the bed and took a bite from her half of the sandwich. “I’ll tell you more later.”

“I have questions,” he protested weakly. He couldn’t even bring himself to eat the sandwich he was numbly holding, too stunned by the fact that he was so close to getting answers about someone he genuinely liked before things got messy with that confrontation with the Fury.

“I’ll answer everything I can, I promise,” Annabeth said and for some reason it sounded like she was the one in control here even though he was keeping her locked up and she was the prisoner. “But it’s been a long day and you look exhausted. You shouldn’t have to learn too much with your mind all muddled up.”

Which was also different from what Luke and Kronos seemed to believe in. They didn’t care how tired Percy was or how incapable of concentrating he was. It sometimes felt like they wanted him to be vulnerable and easy to manipulate with his brain all dazed because then he could ask less questions and process less information. It was convenient. For them.

Reluctantly, Percy bid Annabeth a good night (as good as it could be when she was being locked in a room against her will) and exited her room, one hand still holding the half of her sandwich and the other rolling his pen thoughtfully.

Percy dreamed that he was standing in the middle of a strawberry field. The sky was dark and the wind made the leaves of the fruits rustle along with the ones belonging to trees from a forest close by. The moon was shining down on the area and Percy could see buildings not too far away from him, like old Greek architecture marvels.

“Nico, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” A girl’s voice said and Percy turned around to find a girl—around twelve, he figured—with silky dark hair braided over her shoulder. She had a splash of freckles across her nose and her skin seemed to almost glow in the moonlight—more so than Percy would have expected, no matter how bright its light was.

In front of the girl, looking very annoyed and offended, stood a younger boy—maybe ten—with dark hair like the girl’s and dark eyes that glared at the ground in this kind of way that kids sometimes did when their parents annoyed them with a response they didn’t like. Both he and the girl had olive skin and their features were rather similar, so Percy figured they were brother and sister, even though the boy wasn’t glowing like the older girl.

“Please, I promise I didn’t want you to feel this way, Nico. I was just…” the girl trailed off uncertainly and bit her lip. “She offered and I really, really think I would be happy as a Hunter,” she pleaded, trying to explain.

The boy—Nico—scowled. “So you don’t think you’ll be able to be happy with me? At camp?” he demanded. “You don’t think this might be enough?”

She shook her head. “It’s not like that. I’m sure Camp Half-Blood is great. Really, I do. And I know you’d love it here—“

“So was it the immortality?” the boy cut her off, turning around to face her. Percy hid behind the strawberries, watching warily as Nico’s eyes seemed to gleam with unshed tears. He didn’t know what was going on, but this was making him feel really bad for the kid. “Was it because you’ll be serving a goddess? Was it because… because you didn’t want to stay with me?”

“Don’t say that!” the girl protested instantly and tried to reach out to hold Nico’s hand, but the boy took a sharp step backward, lip trembling. “Nico, I love you—you have to know that! I just… I just heard the offer and it… spoke to me. It’s what I feel like I was meant to do. It’s something I want.” She regarded him for a moment or two when he didn’t react. “I only wish I knew someone here well enough to feel more secure in the knowledge that you’ll be safe here.”

Nico snorted. “Like you care,” he grumbled in a low voice and then turned to look away from her, his eyes landing almost instantly on Percy. The kid’s eyes widened in alarm and he took a step back, hand shooting out to grab onto his sister. “W-who’s that?!”

She turned around as well and searched for a moment before her eyes fell on Percy hiding behind the growing plants. One moment she just sort of gaped a little and the next she held out her hand and a bow appeared there. She pulled an arrow and aimed it at Percy, though her hands were a little shaky, like she wasn’t used to this and wasn’t sure what she was doing or how to react.

“Who are you?” she demanded in the firmest voice she could muster. Percy still heard the shakiness of it, though. “Come out—tell us why you’re eavesdropping on us!”

Percy wasn’t too thrilled about being faced with the option of getting shot—even if this still had to be a dream—but he reluctantly dragged himself away from the strawberries until he was standing in front of Nico and the armed girl. He spread his arms to the side, showing that he didn’t have a weapon on him, so they shouldn’t harm him, though he could feel Riptide in his pocket, waiting for him to choose to use it in case things deteriorated.

Not yet, his mind whispered. He had no idea who these two were, but they were kids even younger than him. The girl had silver clothes that kind of reminded Percy of the dress of the girl that was now holding the sky and the boy had an orange shirt that had to belong to that camp they’d mentioned before. They didn’t look malicious, despite the arrow that was aimed at Percy, threatening to pierce his chest.

“Sorry,” he said slowly, cautiously. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—I’m just… I’m pretty sure this is a dream. For me, at least. I’m not really here.”

Nico’s eyes were wide open as he gawked at him, his fear replaced by awe. The girl’s eyebrows furrowed a little but she didn’t lower her bow. “A dream?”

He hesitated for only a moment. “A demigod dream,” he explained. “We get them sometimes. They’re… weird. I’ve never been able to actually interact with anyone during them, but I guess now I can,” he glanced down at his hand and realized it looked rather solid, but not completely. He was nothing more than a ghost, his essence. “You’re really here, though, right?”

Finally, the girl lowered her bow. “You’re a demigod, as well?”

“Cool!” Nico exclaimed, taking a step away from his sister and toward Percy. She stopped him before he could take another one but it didn’t seem to dampen his spirits at all as he kept on staring at Percy. “What does it feel like? Where are you from? Are you not from camp? What’s your name? Who’s your parent?”

“Nico, shut up,” the girl said, almost urgently. Nico pouted at her a little but kept his lips tightly sealed. “Why were you hiding?” she asked Percy.

“Well, I figured it would be weird if you saw a random person standing here all of a sudden,” he noted dryly, eyes glancing at the girl’s bow. Her cheeks flushed a little in the moonlight and she quickly made the bow disappear, though Percy had no idea how that worked. Well, he couldn’t really question magic weapons when his sword had the ability to look like a pen. “You wouldn’t happen to know a girl with auburn hair in a silver dress that’s also immortal, right?”

Nico gasped. “Bianca, that sounds like—“

“Artemis,” the girl finished, looking stunned. “You saw Lady Artemis?”

“Artemis… as in, the goddess?” Percy asked, slightly dazed now as he remembered the little girl carrying the sky, bleeding ichor. Was she really the goddess? One of the twelve Olympians? “Wow…”

The girl—Bianca—took a step toward him, her dark eyes now desperate, for some reason. “Where is she? Is she okay?” she asked.

Percy shook his head. “She’s trapped,” he said. “Luke and Atlas have her. They made her carry the sky on top of Mount Tamalpais. She’s managing better than Annabeth, but I’m not sure she’s going to be able to keep it up for too long. It’s not exactly an easy task—and I’m talking from experience.”

Bianca’s eyes filled with tears. “She got caught? No, that’s impossible!”

“Annabeth?” Nico pondered the name. “Wasn’t that the name of that girl that jumped off the cliff after Dr. Thorn?” he asked his sister. “The one that’s missing.”

Nodding, Bianca looked like she was on the verge of panicking. “Thalia’s been going nuts. I heard Chiron sent scouts to try and look for her,” she said faintly, tugging at her braid a little. “We have to tell them that Lady Artemis and Annabeth are in California. We will be able to get there and rescue them!”

“How do you know all that?” Nico asked, turning back to Percy. “Did you dream about it, too?”

He flinched a little and shuffled his feet. “Not exactly…” he said, looking away from their probing eyes. He wasn’t sure how they would take it, but he could tell they wouldn’t like the next part. “I’m sort of the one tasked with keeping Annabeth in her room. I make sure she doesn’t escape.”

The siblings stared at him for a moment or two, looking very blank. Then Nico tilted his head to the side and shook it a little. “I don’t see it—you don’t look like a bad guy.”

“Nico…” Bianca muttered, eyes trained on Percy as she seemed to observe him.

Her little brother ignored her. “And you just told us where to find you, so you’re doing a pretty poor job at keeping us away from Annabeth, too.”

“I don’t really know what’s going on,” Percy confessed and he could tell Bianca was trying to decide what to think of him. He decided to smile at Nico instead of looking at the girl. “All I know is that the goddess is trapped and Annabeth was used to lure her in, somehow. At least, that’s what it looked like. I don’t want to keep them there, but it’s not up to me and at least I’m keeping Annabeth away from the monsters there.”

For a few moments they all regarded each other silently under the light of the moon. And then Bianca murmured something to Nico that Percy couldn’t hear. The boy protested. Bianca pressed harder and Nico grumbled as he sent Percy another intrigued look before walking away from there, toward a bunch of strange-looking cabins.

That left Percy alone with Bianca. He wasn’t sure how to feel about it.

“Are you telling the truth?” she asked uncertainly.

Percy shrugged. “I am.”

She pursed her lips. “Swear it,” she said, eyes burning with something like desperation. “Swear it on the River Styx.”

He winced as he remembered hearing from Luke briefly about how such a promise was bounding. How if he ever ended up breaking a promise on the Styx, he would end up paying for it one way or another, and it won’t be pleasant.

So far, Percy’s never done such a thing. He didn’t really need to and he didn’t feel like risking his life for any reason. But the look in the girl’s eyes made his insides squirm with the need to reassure her because she looked so lost and confused and unsure as to who to trust and what to think or do. She needed to know that she was talking to a friend she could put her trust in and not a foe.

His mind flashed back to Annabeth’s stormy eyes as she regarded him earlier.

“I swear I’m telling you the truth. And I promise I’m going to tell you the truth—as far as I can tell, at least,” he said and then gulped and shifted a little uneasily. “I swear it on the River Styx.”

Thunder rumbled and lightning flashed overhead, but other than that, nothing seemed to change other than the way Bianca’s shoulders sagged in relief. She looked less guarded now and more tired than before, though there was something about her that made Percy feel like she was more powerful than she looked. Maybe it was the glow from the moon.

“So Artemis is really being held by these people? And Annabeth is there, too?” she asked.

Percy nodded. “But they’re going to kill Annabeth once the winter solstice passes if things go according to plan. I don’t know what the plan is, but that doesn’t leave you much time to get here and save her. Or Artemis,” he added quickly.

Bianca’s eyes widened in alarm. “The winter solstice?” she asked faintly.

He nodded. “Where are you right now? How far away from us?”

She gulped, hesitating for only a moment. “Long Island,” she replied. Percy winced. “So pretty far away, I’d say,” she said and then shook her head. “I have to talk to the others. They’re going to want to know about this. They’ll send people to search for both of them, I’m sure.”

“You do that,” he said, offering her a tight smile. “Just be careful—I’m sure they’re expecting you to come. Luke’s mentioned keeping Annabeth as bait. He knows people will come looking for Artemis and her. You have to watch your back when you travel here because he’ll surely send monsters after you.”

Bianca stared at him for a moment or two, seemingly trying to understand him once again. “What’s your name?”

“Percy,” he answered easily.

She bit her lip. “You’re… not going to stab us in the back, right? You’re genuinely trying to help?”

The thought of turning on someone who trusted him made Percy’s skin crawl. The idea was just… absurd. He snorted. “I swear—so far, Annabeth’s been more willing to help me than anyone else in this world. I don’t know what’s going on and who you guys are, but you already seem better than a group of monsters led by a Titan that keeps me in the dark all the time.”

“So if you…” Bianca shifted a little uneasily but then locked eyes with Percy and the intensity of her gaze almost scared him. “If you end up getting to camp with Annabeth after they rescue her and Lady Artemis, will you… will you make sure my brother is okay?”

“Nico?”

“I won’t be able to stay here for long and he will not be able to join me,” she said, sounding a little sad about it. “I don’t know the other campers here, but you… you seem okay. And you swore you’re not lying to me, so… so I just figured…”

He smiled at her again. “If I get to camp,” he said, not a clue as to what camp she was talking about, yet knowing he could maybe just ask Annabeth about it. “I’ll try to keep an eye on Nico as much as I can.”

The tension left in her body seemed to melt away, too. She looked so grateful that Percy felt the urge to remind her that he still was, technically, her enemy and on the other side of the continent. They weren’t exactly close and he wasn’t sure how Annabeth’s friends would get to her in time. They didn’t have very long, after all.

And what if he couldn’t leave? What if Annabeth and Artemis got away but Percy got left behind? What if they decided to kill him or take him as their own prisoner? He wasn’t sure how he would be able to watch over a kid while being shackled and locked away, or dead.

Still, he didn’t say anything and instead just offered the girl his most reassuring smile, watching as she and the rest of the dream became fuzzy until it all melted away to darkness that swallowed him before he woke up in his bed with a gasp, wondering whether or not his dream was actually real.

Chapter Text

“Trade with someone.”

“Do you want one wool in exchange for a brick, then?”

“Nah. Not really.”

“Then why did you tell me to ask?”

“It’s always worth a shot, right?”

Percy glared at Annabeth over his cards and groaned at the smug smile on her face. “This game is a lot more fun when it’s more than two players,” he grumbled.

They were sitting on the floor of Annabeth’s room, a game of Catan between them. It was Percy’s idea. He’d found the old box hidden in a closet—probably belonging to some other demigod he wasn’t allowed to talk to—and Percy smuggled it over to Annabeth’s room on her second day as a prisoner, thinking it would be nice to have something to help her pass the time.

Unfortunately, they were only two and the game was meant for three to four players, meaning this was kind of ridiculous. And despite what Annabeth said, it wasn’t because Percy was losing, but because only playing this with two people was kind of lame. They were already on their third round and Annabeth seemed to be on her way toward another glamorous victory.

“You’re just acting like a sore loser,” Annabeth said cheerfully.

“You’re way too happy for someone who’s being locked away by her enemies.”

Annabeth shrugged. “I’m sure my friends are coming to try and get me,” she said casually. “I’m more worried about Luke than about them.”

Percy thought back to his conversation with Bianca and Nico the night before and he put his cards down, shifting a little on the floor. He almost forgot to tell Annabeth about it, but a part of him was worried it wouldn’t be the smartest idea. He didn’t really know her or those siblings from the camp. He had no idea who Annabeth’s friends were or what they would do to him once they reached the mountain.

Sure, he wanted Annabeth to get out of here because she didn’t look like a bad person and his instincts told him he could trust her more than he could trust Luke, but it was still strange to willingly choose a stranger over the guy he’s known for almost two years.

Squaring his shoulders, Percy opened his mouth and told Annabeth about his dream. She let the hand holding her cards fall slowly, losing interest in the game at the sound of his conversation with Bianca and Nico.

Apparently, she knew them, but only a little, because she and two of her friends were at their school to try and get them to safety before one of the teachers—the Manticore that pretended to be human—could get to them. That fight ended with Annabeth falling off the cliff with Thorn the Manticore. That was how she ended up getting caught in the first place.

“It sounds like Bianca joined the Hunters of Artemis,” Annabeth said slowly as Percy described Bianca’s glowing aura and her silver clothes. The way she called Artemis ‘lady’, like she was her leader. “I didn’t think she would—not with Nico. I guess I was wrong.”

“I don’t think Nico was too thrilled about it,” Percy noted.

Annabeth smirked. “Well, the Hunters have to take an oath before joining Artemis. They swear to serve Artemis and to turn their backs on the company of men. That includes Nico, even if he is her brother,” she explained.

He frowned. “Well, no wonder Nico was upset, then. I would have been, too, if someone close to me chose immortality and a girls’ club over me—especially if we’re really good friends or family.”

She grimaced. “I… I’m considering joining Artemis, too,” she said in a small voice, like she wasn’t sure she should really say it.

“Why?”

Her brows furrowed and she scowled at the wall over Percy’s shoulder. “It doesn’t concern you,” she said sharply and Percy dropped it even though Annabeth was the one to bring it up in the first place.

“So… you were right,” Percy said, plastering a smile onto his face. “Your friends are coming to rescue you and Artemis.”

She smiled and nodded. “Now let’s pray they make it here safely.”

“You pray—I’ve never prayed to anyone,” Percy said with a shrug he tried to make as nonchalant as possible. Annabeth stared at him. “I mean, I know the gods are real and maybe praying would actually help, but Luke told me I can only pray to Kronos and I… I guess I never really wanted to.”

“Then pray to your dad,” Annabeth said softly. “Even if you don’t use his name—even if you don’t know who he is—he’ll be able to hear it. Maybe he’ll help you,” she suggested and he got the impression that she suspected he knew something about his father’s identity. “It won’t hurt to try.”

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he argued weakly. In truth, he just didn’t want to pray to someone who’ll just ignore him, the way Luke said the gods did. He didn’t want to finally try to get his father’s attention only for the god to dismiss it. What if he needed help and his father decided he didn’t want to help him? “I mean, he must be upset with me for working with Kronos and not the gods. I’m even betraying him, now.”

Which was something he only learned that morning from Annabeth. Apparently, Luke used to go to that camp with her. They were friends and Luke sounded like a nice guy that everyone there liked… until he turned his back on the demigods at camp and on the gods of Olympus. He joined Kronos and has been serving him for two years now.

He wanted to bring Kronos back from the depths of Tartarus—get him to fight the gods and defeat them. He wanted to end their rule and begin a new era of the Titans, in which they would rule over the world. He wanted to break the gods—he wanted to do so to his own father, Hermes.

It didn’t sit right with Percy. Even with Annabeth’s confirmation that the gods weren’t perfect parents and were pretty dismissive and aloof, they were clearly better than the Titans. Percy remembered his dreams of Kronos talking to him from the chasm that was the entrance to Tartarus. They always made him wake up in cold sweat because the sound of the Titan’s voice was chilling, cold, detached, evil. He didn’t care about Percy or any other demigod.

But he offered Percy his mother—his sweet, kind and loving mother who was somewhere in the Underworld. Percy liked to think she got to Elysium because a human as amazing as she was had to be granted such a place after death, right? She had to be somewhere where she could enjoy her afterlife. Where she could live (so to speak) in bliss, no longer worried about Percy or her own health.

Kronos always promised Percy he would give him his mother back.

Percy never really wanted him to do it, even though he wanted to be with his mother more than anything else in the world.

Maybe he should have leapt at the chance of being reunited with her, but all he could think of was her soft, weak words as she told him that she wasn’t afraid of death—she was only worried that Percy would be left without her. She didn’t mind dying—she had time to prepare, after all—so Percy figured she was probably content with no longer concerning herself with the matters of his life. And his life was… a lot. Even before he realized he was a half-blood.

He didn’t want to take this peace away from her.

A hand on his shoulder made Percy focus back on Annabeth. She looked like she wasn’t sure whether actually touching him was alright, but then she offered him a smile like it didn’t matter all that much, anyway.

“Percy, I’m not sure who your father is, but you’re clearly not really trying to hurt him in any way. You’re here because you had no other options, right? Well, if you tell your father, he might understand. Maybe he already knows it and is just waiting for you to make the first move and reach out to him.”

“If he’s my father, shouldn’t he be the one to take the first step?”

She made a face, like she expected the question and still couldn’t figure out a better answer than the one she had. “The gods aren’t great with us, their children. Some are better, some worse,” she shrugged. “You won’t lose anything by trying it out. Either your father will hear you and do his best, or he’ll ignore it. I mean, if he’s upset with you, then he hasn’t done anything so far. He probably won’t decide to smite you just for trying to reach out. Either way, things won’t get worse, right?”

And she went back to playing the game as if nothing’s interrupted it in the first place. Percy did the same, but his mind was reeling as he tried to decide on what he should do.

Artemis was alone, holding the sky with nobody around. She was still shackled, which probably prevented her from escaping or from calling for help from the other gods.

Despite the weight of the sky, she still looked like she was very aware of her surroundings. She spotted Percy approaching cautiously almost instantly and her enchanting eyes remained trained on him as he stepped closer to her, unsure as to what was going through her head.

Once he stopped right in front of her, Percy realized how stupid it would look if someone came in and found his dead body on the floor in before her because she could somehow still kill her with her sharp gaze alone that didn’t suit the young face she supported. She looked younger than he was, yet her eyes were old. Older than any other pair of eyes he’s seen before.

Other than Mr. Brunner’s—Chiron’s, apparently—but that was a whole other matter.

“You’re really her, right? Artemis?” he asked.

“Perseus Jackson,” the goddess said appraisingly, like she was trying to test out his name and decide whether or not it suited him. He squirmed a little as he bent down to be at the same eye level with her. She looked a little surprised by this. “Your father has been trying to find you, but you’ve been hidden from him. There were only few instances in which you stepped into his domain.”

He gaped at her. “He was looking for me?”

She grunted a little as the sky rumbled threateningly above their heads, bricks falling around them. Percy moved out of the way of one and then looked back at Artemis, his heart going out for her as she kept on holding the sky without showing the extent of the strain it was obviously putting on her.

“Your father cares for you, boy. More so than I have ever seen him care for his demigod children in the past,” she said, taking in his shocked expression. “You are his first demigod child in about seventy years. Is it truly hard to believe that he would care for you?”

He shrugged. “Luke said the gods don’t care about their demigod children, uh, my lady,” Percy said uncertainly. Her eyes flashed but she didn’t look upset. “Annabeth said it was pretty much true, as well. That the Olympians don’t pay their children any mind unless they need something from them.”

“So you wonder if your father has a task for you,” the goddess guessed.

Percy bowed his head a little and didn’t reply.

Artemis shook her head. “Your father doesn’t ask for anything of you, boy. He is merely concerned for your wellbeing and the path you have been taking so far,” she said, not unkindly. Percy locked eyes with her once more. “But you doubt it, do you not? You fear he will punish you for taking a stance against the gods.”

“Won’t he?”

She hummed thoughtfully and Percy got the impression that she was remembering eons’ worth of memories. “My uncle has always been temperamental, though he has mellowed down with the years,” she said and Percy’s heart raced a little. “But he has always cared for his children. All of them, no matter whether they were good or bad—heroes or monsters. He loved them all and refused to hurt them. He has always been protective of them, and I certainly don’t think you will be an exception.”

He gulped. “That… doesn’t sound like what I’ve been told,” he said.

Artemis’s lips tilted up in a small smirk. “You will find that out of all the gods, your father is the most unpredictable one,” she told him. “None of us can tell for sure what his next move will be, no matter what the situation is. He has always been this way—it is in his nature. As it is in yours, I believe.”

Percy looked sideway, toward the outside, where the mountain overlooked the sea that spread there, going into the horizon, further than his eye could see. It was so big and vast and almost frightening… yet it still called for him, yearned for Percy to approach it and sink in it.

He thought about his inability to follow the rules—how he kept on disregarding what Luke and Kronos warned him about and how he still did as he pleased whenever he felt like he should do something, whether it was forbidden or not. Was this really a quality of his dad? A quality he’s inherited without even being aware of it? Something that connected him to a mythological Greek god that controlled so much?

It felt surreal to think about, but Percy knew he wasn’t wrong about the identity of his father—especially when Artemis noticed where he was looking and gave him an encouraging smile, as if to tell him that she knew what he was thinking and she confirmed it to be true.

“Why can’t he find me, then? Do I always have to enter his domain for him to, like, spot me?”

Artemis shook her head. “This place hides you. The people you are with are trying to prevent the gods—especially my uncle—from detecting you. They know that you meeting with your dad would probably make you choose a different path,” she said.

“What will happen if I do pray to him, then?”

She tilted her head to the side. “If you pray to him, it will reach him, no matter what our grandfather is doing to hide you, boy,” she said, sounding thoughtful yet a little impressed with his line of thinking. “Pray to him, and your location will be revealed to him.”

He let the words sink in and thought about Annabeth’s encouragement as she’d told him to try and pray to his father despite having never heard from him before. Percy remembered his mom’s bright eyes as she spoke of this man—this god—and couldn’t help but believe that whoever this god was, he had to be pretty freaking awesome to make his mom fall in love with him as much as she did.

Someone like that couldn’t be bad, right?

“I saw Bianca,” Percy told the goddess.

Her gaze turned sad at the name. “My newest recruit,” the goddess said. “I had to leave before I could spend more time with her, to try and find a monster that has been back on this earth for a short while now.”

“She seemed really distressed when I told her you’ve been captured,” Percy said.

Artemis looked at him with sharp eyes. “You told her?”

He rubbed the back of his neck self-consciously and tried to ignore the way his face flushed a little. “Well, yeah. I mean, you’re a goddess—it feels wrong to have you here. And Bianca said Annabeth’s friends will come looking for her, too. I warned them about Atlas and Luke. I hope they’ll make it here in time.”

For a few silent seconds Artemis regarded Percy, staring at him like he was a word she couldn’t seem to decipher, which was something Percy had a lot of experience with after years of going to school and dealing with his dyslexia. It was a little unnerving but he tried not to move too much. Or to show just how awed he was with how effortlessly Artemis seemed to hold up the sky. She should have been crumbling down from the pressure, but she was holding firm.

It had to be about her being a goddess, he knew, but still.

“I hope they will make it here, too,” Artemis said eventually. She shifted a little and the sky seemed to groan as more of it began to crumble on top of them. Percy shielded his head and then looked back at the goddess that, for the first time, looked tired. “Until then, make sure the maiden with you is taken care of, boy.”

He nodded. “I will.”

Percy snuggled into his bed, staring up at the ceiling with a small smile on his face.

Annabeth and he kept on talking after he brought her some more food. She didn’t look like she hated him or felt like keeping her guard around him, which confused him a little bit, but it still made him feel rather content to know that she didn’t feel threatened with him around.

She kept on answering his questions. About camp, about Chiron, about the other demigods, about satyrs that arrived at different schools to spot demigods and bring them safely to camp. Like Grover did for Percy before he… well… Percy lost him at some point and kind of assumed his best friend probably didn’t survive.

He left Annabeth’s room when she yawned for the fifth time and promised to get her food in the morning—anything that wasn’t a chocolate sandwich would be appreciated, really.

So now he was lying in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling and thinking about his conversations with both Annabeth and Artemis. He wished he had a window from this small room to the ocean, but knew that even if there was such a place on this mountain, Luke would never have given it to him.

Closing his eyes, Percy furrowed his brows.

“Hey, uh… Dad…” he muttered quietly into the open space. He didn’t feel any different so he wasn’t even sure if his father could hear this. Was this even an actual prayer? It felt awkward at best. “I’m not sure what I’m doing so if you can hear this, please don’t smite me for doing something wrong, okay?”

No answer. Percy shifted on the bed, feeling restless and ridiculous but at least if this went unheard by the god that was his father, then nobody else would ever hear about it, either.

“Look, I know I’m some huge disappointment for failing to get to camp like Grover and Mr. Brunn—I mean, Chiron wanted me to. And I know it’s even worse because I’m with Luke and Kronos—which is my grandfather and I’m trying not to feel extremely weirded out by this right now—but it would really be nice if you, I don’t know, let me know that you’re not extremely upset with me… Or at least tell me what to do to fix it…”

He pursed his lips and glanced around. It was dark, but he could tell that there was no deity in his room and no divine intervention. Nothing was happening to indicate that anybody was hearing him. That anybody was listening to his pleas.

He rolled to his side and sighed. “Right…” he mumbled to himself and closed his eyes again, curling into himself as much as he could.

And then he sat straight up in the bed, eyes wide as he inhaled deeply and smelt something other than the scent of a closed-up space and thick layers of dust. Instead of smelling the grimy air of the inside of the mountain or the Eucalyptus that seemed to always breeze through the air and made him feel like he was going to lose it at any moment if he stayed there much longer, Percy smelled something else.

It was like he was no longer inside, but out of the cave, standing at the feet of the mountain, in front of the open sea. He inhaled and breathed in the scent of salt water and open air. This was the ocean breeze that filled his room inexplicably in the middle of the night even though he had no windows in his room.

Percy looked around but he was still all alone in there. He didn’t feel rejected, though. Annabeth had told him that the gods were forbidden from intervening in their children’s lives, including him and his dad. He didn’t need to see the god to know that he was listening when the scent of the ocean was now in his room, filling him with all of his good memories of walking to the beach at Montauk with his mother, jumping over waves and laughing while sharing ice cream.

He smiled as he leaned back down again and took another whiff of the intoxicating scent.

“Well, it’s not a helpful clue about what I should do, but… if that means you forgive me, then… thanks,” he said.

The scent seemed to become even stronger and Percy sighed happily as he rolled to the side and fell asleep.

Percy found himself standing next to Bianca again. She was pacing a little outside a glowing cabin that seemed to match her own, silver glow. She was worried, he knew, and she was alone this time, no sign of her little brother around.

There were other cabins around—eleven more, to be exact. Percy remembered Annabeth’s explanation about the twelve cabins at camp and figured that had to be it—had he not known about it, it would have looked like the strangest bunch of cabins he’s ever seen. Not that it wasn’t still strange, but at least he knew that each one was uniquely built to represent a single god.

For a moment or two the girl kept on pacing, unaware of Percy’s presence, and then her eyes glided over the other cabins before falling on his figure and she startled a little before her eyes grew impossibly wide and she rushed toward him, looking like she wanted to grasp both his hands before holding herself back at the last moment.

He offered her a small smile, amused by this. “Sworn off the company of men, have you?” he teased lightly.

She put on a shaky smile. “You’re back,” she said, sounding almost astonished. There was relief in there, too, like she was hoping for this chance. “I couldn’t sleep, so I tried to wait and see if you will show up again.”

Percy spread his arms to the sides. “Well, I’m here. Can’t really control it, but I guess it’s better than having some kind of nightmare,” he said lightly, trying not to think too hard about his dreams of Kronos and the pit that had to be Tartarus. “Did you want anything?”

“Lady Artemis—is she still there? Is she alright?”

“Yeah. She’s stronger than she looks, that’s for sure. I had a little chat with her today,” Percy told her and Bianca looked extremely relieved at that. “She asked how you were doing. She knows there’s going to be a rescue party coming to us to try and save her and Annabeth.”

Bianca nodded and then sighed and put a hand against her chest. Percy was pretty sure she was relaxing a little bit for the first time that day. “That’s good to hear. That’s really, really good to hear. Thank you, Percy.” She smiled at him warmly. “It feels good to have someone I can trust without doubting every other word,” she admitted.

He shrugged. “It does,” he said, though he was thinking about a blond girl stuck in a room down the same hall as his own one rather than the dark-haired girl standing before him. Although Bianca was pretty nice, too, he supposed. “Are you okay? Who’s coming to Mount Tam? Have they left yet?”

She bit her lip. “You’re not… informing anyone on the other side, right?” she asked hesitantly.

Percy snorted and raised an eyebrow at her. “Wow, that trust bit lasted for less than three seconds, huh?” he mocked and Bianca flushed but didn’t budge. “I swear—I swear on the Styx, if that makes you feel any better about it—that I won’t give any information to anyone if I think it might harm you. I may tell Artemis or Annabeth about it. Maybe Luke if I think he might do something stupid with it. But I’m trying to help you guys—I promise.”

Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “I’m just nervous.”

“About what?”

“Zoë—Artemis’s lieutenant asked me to come with them on this quest. It’s going to be her, another Hunter, two campers and me. And I’m still new to this whole thing. I only discovered I was a demigod yesterday and I’ve become a Hunter the very same day. I don’t know how I’m supposed to help in any way. She should have chosen someone with more experience.”

Percy drew his eyebrows together. “But… if she’s the lieutenant then she must have a lot of experience, right? So I’m sure she has a reason for wanting you on this quest and nobody else,” he said. “You’ll be fine, Bianca. Don’t doubt yourself so much.”

She inhaled deeply and then smiled. “Yeah… I hope you’re right,” she sighed. “We’re leaving first thing in the morning so I hope we’ll make it in time.”

He nodded and then noticed that the scenery was beginning to turn fuzzy, the same way it did the previous dream. “I’m being pulled away,” he warned her.

“Tell them we’re coming, Percy!” she urged him.

He saluted her. “Will do,” he promised and then the dream changed.

Instead of camp, Percy found himself now near the cabin at Montauk where his mom always took him. In the water, messing around and laughing with joy, he could see his mom—younger and healthier than he remembered her to be—holding his hand. Only he was about five and definitely not dreaming.

Percy smiled at them, a little confused, until he noticed the pair sitting on a bench a foot away from him. They weren’t aware of him this time—Percy seemed to be invisible in this dream, like he usually was.

The man looked remarkably like him—black hair that fell into his eyes and green eyes that resembled the color of the sea. He was tanned and there were a few freckles on his face from spending time outside. There were crinkles near his eyes, like he tended to smile a lot—like he was doing right now, watching the pair in the water.

The woman next to him had black hair as well that was pulled up neatly and pinned with beautiful pearls and silk. Her eyes were mocha-dark and she looked displeased as she watched the mother-son duo in the water, though Percy could still tell she was a kind person. Nice, soft, in a way. Her dress was white, matching the pearls in her hair, and she was probably one of the most beautiful women Percy has ever seen before.

“Don’t say it,” the man said, and despite his smile he sounded grim.

“I didn’t say anything, my lord.”

He glanced at the woman next to him, looking wary. “You didn’t really have to—your expression says it all. You think it was foolish of me, do you not?”

The woman pursed her lips and watched Percy’s mom as she picked up a seashell and showed it to an enthusiastic little Percy that took it from her gingerly, looking like he was trying to make sure it didn’t fall back in the water. He told something to his mother and Percy watched with an aching heart as she laughed heartily, unbothered by the burden of her body betraying her, yet.

“You have brought a child to this world but we both know he will not have a simple life,” the woman said eventually, voice measured even as she smiled a little at the bright beaming smile on young Percy’s face. “The River Styx won’t be able to punish you for breaking the oath, but it only means the burden will weigh down this child.”

“I am quite aware of that,” the man said tiredly, eyes not moving from little Percy as the boy jumped above another wave, laughing merrily and freely.

The woman sighed and put a comforting hand on the man’s forearm. He still didn’t look away from the water and the pair messing around there. “Your brothers will come after him. They will kill him if they find out you broke the oath, my lord. You have to protect them—both of them—before they realize who he is.”

This time the man sighed and dragged a hand down his face, his eyes finally tearing themselves from Sally and Percy Jackson in favor of focusing on the woman by his side. “I tried. I offered her to come down to the ocean, where I will be able to protect her and Perseus,” he said and a small, sad smile crossed his face. “She refused. She doesn’t want to be rescued by anyone.”

“I see you’ve found a woman as stubborn as you, then,” the woman said.

The man chuckled heartily and raked his fingers through his dark hair, the same way Percy did when he felt bashful or nervous. “You would love her, too, dear. I believe the two of you would have gotten along quite well had she accepted my offer,” he said.

Sniffing, the woman glanced back at the pair in the water, her gaze mostly focused on Percy’s mom this time. “I’ll have to take your word for it, I guess.”

“My brothers will come after him soon enough—when he realized who he is,” the man said, sounding tired again. He looked back at young Percy with eyes that revealed more love than Percy was prepared to see, honestly. “I’ll do my best to watch over him, but with the ancient laws keeping me from interacting with him…” He sighed. “This is going to be a difficult life for him, you’re right. I wish it was not so, but now there’s nothing I can do anymore.”

“He will forgive you,” the woman said confidently, taking the hand of the man in her own and squeezing a little in a show of solidarity. “He might resent you at some point, and I’m sure it will hurt, my lord, but he will come around once he learns just how much you already love him—and he hasn’t even done anything to be proud of.”

“He built that sand castle earlier, actually,” the man said, pointing toward a crumbling, unimpressive sand castle that Percy didn’t remember making—but, then again, he was only five. “I’ve never seen anything more beautiful in my life.”

The woman rolled her eyes fondly and opened her mouth to say something when lightning flashed through the sky before a rolling thunder followed it. Percy’s mom and the little son she was with looked up, startled. The man and the woman glanced at the sky, as well, looking less confused and more annoyed and frustrated.

“I believe that is our cue to leave before someone decides to ask you why you’ve been spending so much time overland,” the woman said.

Sighing, the man nodded and got up along with her though he still kept his gaze locked on five-year-old Percy and his mom as they went right back to playing in the sea. He smiled again at the sight and then shook his head and, right along with the woman with him, dissipated into nothing but a swirl of fresh, ocean breeze that swished past Percy and toward the sea.

The dream changed once more. The beach vanished, getting replaced by the sight of camp again. This time Percy was outside a sky-blue house that had four floors, if he wasn’t mistaken. He could see a group of teenagers walking away from it—one of them was Bianca but she was busy talking to a girl next to her so she hasn’t noticed Percy.

Trailing after them in a very indiscreet manner was Nico, who glanced around warily as he followed the group of four.

“Nico?”

The little boy startled and turned around. He gawked at Percy for a moment and then his dark eyes lit up and he ran toward him excitedly, looking like he couldn’t even be bothered by the fact that Percy appeared before him in a dream for the second time.

“Hey! You’re back!” Nico exclaimed.

Percy looked around quickly but there was nobody else around. “Yeah, I am,” he said and offered the boy a small, uncertain smile. “Are you trying to follow them on their quest?”

The happy grin on Nico’s young face slipped away and he shuffled his feet bashfully. “Maybe?”

He sighed. “Nico, this is dangerous. You can’t go on this quest with them,” he told the young boy. Nico opened his mouth, looking like he had a defiant retort at the ready, but Percy held up a hand and spoke before Nico could. “Look, I know you’re worried about your sister. She’s worried about you, too, trust me. But going along with her will only put you in danger and she won’t be able to focus.”

“But I want to make sure she’s okay!” he protested.

“I know,” Percy said gently. “But you can’t. You really, really can’t. Please, stay here. Stay here and train and hang out with the other campers and just… just try to have fun. She’ll be back once they get Annabeth and Artemis. You’ll see her again.”

Nico went silent for a moment or two, his eyes glued to the floor. Then he lifted his gaze and met Percy’s eyes. It didn’t exactly make Percy feel much better. “Then follow her in these dreams you have,” he said, and he sounded more serious than he did before. “Follow her and make sure she’s okay. Promise me you’ll keep her safe when she gets to you on the quest.”

Percy gulped uneasily. “Nico, that’s a big promise. I can barely guarantee my own safety here—“

“Promise me,” the boy insisted.

They looked at each other for a long moment and Percy’s heart squeezed in his chest painfully as he forced himself to nod. “I’ll… do my best. That’s all I can promise you,” he said hollowly, but it seemed to cheer Nico up because the boy nodded like it was everything he could possibly ask for and then he waved at Percy and bounded away toward the few campers Percy could see in the distance, waking up as the sun began to rise in the sky.

Chapter Text

Percy was still a little dazed from his memories as he entered Annabeth’s room with a bowl of soup that he was pretty sure would be tasteless, but at least it had a few vegetables inside, so he figured she would have to appreciate it and the change from those chocolate sandwiches.

But the moment he entered and turned to face her after locking the door behind him, Annabeth’s eyes were on him and she narrowed them suspiciously, like she could tell something was up.

“You smell like the sea,” she commented. “Did you just go for a morning stroll on the beach or something?” she asked.

He shook his head. “No. I prayed to my dad. That was his response,” he said, though the dream he’d had made him feel like that was sent to him from his father, as well. And it definitely made him feel more at ease than the scent of the ocean in his room did. “I guess it stuck to me. Luke is going to think I went down there, though—that’s probably not the best…”

“Why not?”

“I’m not really supposed to go near the sea,” Percy said.

Annabeth fell quiet as he gave her the bowl and made himself comfortable on the floor in front of her bed, feeling like the weight of the sky was resting on his shoulders again as he thought about his promise to Nico. He was a kid—of course he would ask someone older to watch over his sister. But couldn’t he ask someone from the actual quest to do it? Why did it have to be Percy, who was bound to mess it up, somehow?

“What’s wrong?” Annabeth asked after a minute or two of silently sipping the tasteless soup.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me,” she huffed and took another sip. “By the way, this is the worst soup I’ve ever had.”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’ll give you another sandwich later, then.”

She shuddered. “You know what? On second thought, the soup is great. Thanks, Percy,” she said.

When Percy couldn’t bring himself to smile, Annabeth slid off the bed until she was sitting on the floor in front of him, her knees brushing against his ever so slightly. It sent a spark up his body that he didn’t want to interpret or look into too much for fear of actually giving himself hope where there had to be none because as helpful as he was being, they were still supposed to work against each other.

He wanted to leave Luke and Kronos, but he couldn’t see them ever letting him go and he was good with a sword, but his teacher was Luke—how could he possibly defeat him?

“What’s going on? Was the sign from your dad after the pray not good? Is it bad news or something?” Annabeth asked.

Percy sighed and shook his head. “No, it’s a good thing. I think that was his way of telling me that I’m forgiven, I guess,” he said solemnly. “I just… I had these dreams…” He glanced up at her uncertainly but her gray eyes were softer than usual and he could tell she wanted to help—really wanted to help, unlike Luke who made Percy feel like he was after information rather than anything else, more often than not.

So he told her about his dream about Bianca and the one about Nico. He could tell that Annabeth agreed with him on the fact that promising to keep someone safe was a bad idea, but she didn’t say anything. She just nodded and listened and gestured for him to continue when he gave her hesitant glances every now and then.

And then he told her about the dream of that moment from the past, when he and his mom went together to Montauk. It was weird to realize that two people had been staring at them back then and Percy and his mom were completely oblivious to it, but Percy found that he didn’t mind as much as he probably should have.

Annabeth looked a little sour at the mention of the couple watching Percy and his mom at the beach, like it just confirmed something for her that didn’t sit right with her, but she didn’t say anything about it and instead listened as Percy recalled everything he remembered from the conversation he’d heard.

“Your dad…” Annabeth said quietly. She looked away from Percy and frowned. “You’re a son of Poseidon.”

Then she cursed in what Percy assumed was Ancient Greek. He flinched a little and stared at her incredulously, unsure as to why she was reacting that way to finding out who his father was. Sure, it was unexpected—and Percy figured she knew something about that oath his father and wife (Amphitrite, right?) had mentioned—but Annabeth looked like someone just spat in her bowl of nasty soup.

“What? What’s wrong with Poseidon?” he asked, slightly defensive.

The girl cringed and then locked eyes with Percy and the intensity from before seemed to dissipate, like she remembered who she was talking to. “Nothing. He’s really powerful and important and I’m glad you know who your father is, Percy, I really do.”

“But…?”

She bit her bottom lip and started fiddling with her spoon absentmindedly. “Well… Athena and Poseidon—they’re kind of rivals. They don’t get along, see? So…”

Percy lips pressed together and he drew his legs up until they were bent and curled against his chest, his brain already working hard to try and understand what that meant and what he should do next. He liked Annabeth but she was looking at him now like he was the last person she wanted to be around and with Luke and Atlas as some of her other options, that kind of hurt.

“So we can’t get along?” he asked apprehensively.

Annabeth opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, looking just as lost as he felt. Her eyes flitted all around the room, trying to grasp at something that might save them from this conversation, Percy figured. But then she glanced back at Percy and their eyes locked and she looked so scared. Like she expected Percy to get up and leave her be, act like a proper guard instead of a friendly face around this place.

He let his shoulders sag a little. “We don’t have to act the same way, right? I mean, we’re not rivals—“ he winced a little and shook his head. “Well, technically, we are, but we get along, right? We don’t have to be exactly like our parents, do we?”

She stared at him for a moment or two and then a small smile appeared on her face. “No, we don’t have to,” she confirmed and Percy relaxed a little more. “I guess you’re not too bad, Seaweed Brain.”

“So we can be friends?”

The word left a bitter taste in his mouth, like it wasn’t the right one to use for the two of them but he didn’t want to think too hard to try and figure out which word would have been better. He had the feeling it would scare him more than comfort him. And by the look on Annabeth’s face, she felt the same way.

Then she smiled and took another spoonful of soup. “Sure. But you have to improve with your meals because this is one of the worst things I’ve ever had to eat,” she said.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad,” Percy protested and before she could react he snatched the bowl and spoon away from her and took a sip. He held himself back from wrinkling his nose at the poor taste that seemed to attack his mouth and tried to force on a smile. “See?” he said weakly. Annabeth looked like she was on the verge of bursting into laughter. “It’s great. Superb, you might say.”

“Absolutely prodigious,” Annabeth rolled her eyes and took the food back.

Percy whistled. “Big word. Prodigious. I like it,” he said smugly.

“Yeah, if your aim is to be a disaster in the kitchen,” she teased and Percy pressed a hand against his heart, pretending to be hurt. She didn’t seem to care in the least. “Have you ever cooked before?”

He smiled sadly. “I used to bake with my mom when I was little. And I had to make do with my poor skills when she got sick and I was left with only my stepfather who wouldn’t lift a finger to help with anything,” he replied. “My mom was the best cook, though. She could make anything taste good. And she used to cover me with flour every time we tried to bake and I’d get something wrong. It almost always turned into a mess, but she didn’t care when I retaliated.”

Annabeth smiled sadly at him. “Your mom sounds amazing.”

“She was amazing.”

He could see it again—the questions burning through Annabeth’s mind as she seemed to hold herself back from actually voicing them.

“She died when I was twelve,” he said after a few moments. Annabeth looked surprised, but she just leaned forward a little, eyes soft but gleaming with interest. He focused his gaze on her soup. “She got sick—really, really sick—when I was eleven and we didn’t have much money, but we still used most of it to try and save her. Nothing worked. Every treatment failed and the ones that did affect her didn’t last long enough.

“I wasn’t even home at the time because she sent me to a boarding school and I had to hear updates from her over the phone about once a week. It was torture,” he said and sighed. Annabeth looked like she wanted to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but decided she shouldn’t. He kind of wanted to tell her to go for it, anyway. “And then one day I got a phone call from my stepfather. He didn’t sound upset or anything—just neutral as he told me that my mom’s passed away.”

“I’m sorry,” Annabeth said, and there was sincerity in her voice that made Percy put on a frail smile.

He shook his head, though. “It’s okay. I’ve accepted it by now. But with how things sort of fell apart that year… It felt like another blow,” he said and then shifted a little and wrapped his hands around his knees, curling a bit more into himself. “I got attacked by a Fury that year on a school trip to a museum. She was disguised as one of my teachers. That’s when Mr. Brunner—Chiron—gave me the sword to protect myself.

“I killed the Fury—I wasn’t even sure how or if it was real and what the heck was going on—and then I tried to find Chiron or my best friend but they were both gone and the rest of the kids in my class had no idea who they were, so I just… I felt like I was going crazy for the rest of the year. So when I got the call about my mom I realized that there was actually nobody left in my corner. I wasn’t even sure my stepfather would keep on paying the school, so I packed my things and ran away.”

The look on Annabeth’s face was more understanding than Percy had expected it to be, like she knew a thing or two about running away from personal experience. “And then Luke found you?” she asked.

“Well, first the Minotaur did. And my best friend, who turned out to be a satyr, that was supposed to protect me—according to you,” he said with a fond smile. He didn’t like to think too much about Grover because he didn’t want to think about how the guy was probably gone only because he chose to come back to try and protect Percy. “He told me to run away. That he will slow down the Minotaur for as long as he could.”

“Did he?”

Percy pursed his lips. “I haven’t seen my friend since then,” he answered. “But the Minotaur appeared again a day or two later and I had to kill him. So I guess he did all he could, but…”

She hung her head low, probably respecting the memory of the brave satyr that had sacrificed himself for Percy’s sake. Percy wished he could just go back in time and kill the monster before it could kill his friend, but he was incapable of doing so. All he could do was hope he would never allow such a thing to happen again.

Then she looked back at Percy again and gave him this calculating look, like she was trying to determine what her thoughts about him were. “I ran away when I was seven,” she said eventually, gauging Percy’s reaction.

He raised his eyebrows at her but didn’t say anything, which, apparently, seemed to be the right thing to do because she tugged a loose strand of hair—a part of it was gray—behind her ear and kept on talking.

“My father never really wanted me. He tried to give me back to my mom when she showed up with me as a baby and my mom told him that the mortal parent had to raise the demigod. So he kind of got stuck with me. He did his best, I guess, but I could tell he never really wanted me around. And then he married my stepmom and started the family he actually wanted and they had two kids that were constantly in danger because of the monsters that came after me.

“They blamed me every time a monster showed up and my stepmom absolutely hated me. Eventually, I took the hint and left,” she said, putting down the now-empty bowl of soup. “Athena helped me—she showed me the way to two other half-bloods that were on the run. They took me in and helped me. We traveled together since then until we ran into a satyr that guided us back to Camp Half-Blood.”

“Why do you sound like this didn’t end as smoothly as it sounds, then?”

She bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her hands. “Those two half-bloods? One of them was Luke,” she said.

Percy sat up straighter. “Oh.”

Annabeth let out a little, humorless laugh. “Yeah. He was… my idol. I looked up to him,” she said and then sighed heavily and bowed her head, her hair falling forward, hiding her from Percy like a curtain. “The other demigod was a girl named Thalia. She was a daughter of Zeus, and Hades—angry at Zeus for having her—sent a bunch of monsters after her, to kill her.”

“It’s not her fault she’s alive,” Percy protested. “Why would Hades even care, anyway?”

“Because Zeus broke the oath,” she said. When Percy just stared at her questioningly, Annabeth explained further. “After World War Two, Zeus, Poseidon and Hades swore on the River Styx that they won’t have any more demigod children because of a prophecy that’s been given at the time about a child of the Big Three who will reach sixteen and would either save Olympus or destroy it with a single choice. In order to prevent such a thing from happening, they decided to take the oath.”

Percy stared down at his hands awkwardly and shifted a little uncomfortably. “Okay, so that definitely didn’t work out, then,” he said.

Annabeth smiled faintly at him. “You think?” she teased and then sobered up quickly and kept on going. “Well, Hades was mad at Zeus for breaking the oath and he tried to kill Thalia. We hoped we’d make it to camp before the monsters could catch up with us, but there were too many of them and we took a few wrong turns. Thalia stayed behind to give the three of us some time to get past the borders of Camp Half-Blood and she stayed fought and…”

“Wait, did she…?”

“She didn’t die,” Annabeth said, eyes glinting with what Percy assumed were unshed tears. He quickly looked away. “But when it was obvious she wouldn’t make it in time, Zeus turned her into a pine tree that protected the camp from monsters with her spirit,” she said and it sounded almost casual enough for Percy to take it in stride.

Almost.

“He turned her into a tree to save her?” he asked dryly.

The girl chuckled good-naturally. “It sounds horrible, doesn’t it? But it definitely saved the camp and we managed to bring her back last summer so we have both the magical border that keeps us safe and Thalia,” she explained. “It’s really good to have her back, too, although I’m worried this might mean the prophecy is about to pass soon.”

“How old is she?”

She shrugged helplessly. “I’m not sure. She kept on aging as a tree, but slower. She looks around sixteen, but I can’t be sure exactly…” Annabeth sighed and shook her head. “Well, I’ll just have to hope for the best. Thalia won’t betray the gods. She’s going to have to make the right choice…”

Percy winced and looked at the floor, heart hammering in his chest. He knew it wasn’t what she meant by her words, but he still felt like she was basically telling him that Thalia was the best option to be the demigod from that old prophecy because she was on the gods’ side of the war. Percy… wasn’t. He would have probably messed it up and made Olympus fall.

In a way, it was good to know that something this big wasn’t on his shoulders. He never wanted to know how bad it would feel to know that the only chance the gods had was some kind of future choice of his. Thalia, whoever she was, would be better off making that decision. She was already on the right side of this war, so her choice wouldn’t be too difficult to make, right?

“Of course, the prophecy never said it would have to be the next demigod of the Big Three,” Annabeth continued, eyes blazing as she seemed to think hard. Percy could almost smell the smoke coming out her ears as she seemed to overwork her brain. “It could still be about you, Percy. Or another demigod the gods may have in the future.”

He winced. “Hopefully, it’s not about me,” he said.

She seemed to realize what Percy was thinking because her expression softened just a tad and she nudged him slightly. “Let’s play Catan, again!” she said enthusiastically.

“You only want to play it ‘cause you always win,” he grumbled but still pulled the box over from the corner of the room, his heart turning lighter at the fact that the game would, hopefully, put an end to this conversation.

Annabeth sent him an innocent smile that sent his heart racing for a reason he wasn’t sure he wanted to explore, yet.

Percy tried to go over to Artemis and talk to her again because, well, it seemed kind of cruel to both let her carry the sky and leave her alone, with no company, whatsoever. Even if she didn’t like boys, from what he’s learned from Annabeth about the goddess.

But when he nearly reached the place where she was struggling, he heard Luke’s voice that made Percy stop in his tracks. He wasn’t talking to himself but to Artemis, sounding almost like he was warning her about something. He mentioned… skeletons and the Hunters. Something about how this quest was bound to fail because the skeletons won’t stop until their job is done and nothing would prevent them from completing it.

To her credit, Artemis didn’t sound scared or like she was doubtful of her Hunters’ skills. Her voice was sharp and rather clear for someone who was struggling as much as she was. She talked back to Luke, telling him they would still fail. That her Hunters would come back to her and they would succeed. The Titans would fail once more, no matter how many plans Kronos had under his belt.

Percy really wanted to believe she was right.

Percy dreamed that he was sitting in the driver’s seat of a Lamborghini. It was moving forward even though he wasn’t doing anything and Percy realized that it was moving thanks to an automobile-carrier train the Lamborghini was on.

Behind him he could hear snores from someone. Frankly, Percy expected to find Bianca sitting there, because he kept on dreaming about either her or Nico (or his dad, apparently), but instead he found a familiar, sleeping face there. The face of someone he thought was long gone.

“Grover?” he said in awe, voice small. The satyr kept on sleeping, but he stirred a little, like he could hear Percy’s voice and he wanted to respond even though he couldn’t. Percy honestly couldn’t believe his friend was alive. He was so sure… he thought for sure that he was gone.

He was wearing an orange shirt, like the one Nico had, of Camp Half-Blood. His curly hair was covered somewhat by the hat Percy remembered him having and his furry legs were hidden by his jeans, hooves resting in a pair of fake shoes. It wasn’t far off from what Percy remembered him to be like, only Grover looked a little older now, like he was finally growing up.

It was so good to see him again, safe and sound, that Percy nearly burst into tears.

“Having strange dreams, are we?” a voice next to Percy said.

He turned sharply toward the shotgun seat and found someone who was definitely not there a moment before. He looked kind of like some kind of homeless guy, though, or a teddy bear that’s been run over by a truck. He smiled at Percy like they were old friends and not like they’ve never met before—which Percy was pretty sure was the case.

The guy sighed, not looking particularly put off by Percy’s gawking, and leaned back in his seat, looking like he was feeling right at home. “If it weren’t for dreams, I wouldn’t know half the things I know about the future,” the guy said casually. “They’re better than Olympus tabloids.”

Percy had no idea what this guy was talking about. “Wha—“

Cutting him off, the guy cleared his throat and spat out some lame haiku that made Percy wish he could actually change his dreams. This was even weirder than his conversations with Bianca and Nico, but something told him that this guy wasn’t a threat to him. Or, well, he felt powerful. Percy could almost see the aura of energy around him, but he didn’t feel intimidated by it.

“Who are you?” Percy asked.

Looking at him, the guy sent Percy a blinding smile that almost made Percy’s eyes sore. It shouldn’t have been possible because he didn’t really have all his teeth, but Percy still had to admit that to himself—and that was in a dream, for crying out loud!

“You mean you don’t recognize your cousin?” the guy said and Percy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “Wow, Percy, I expected more from the son of Barnacle Beard,” he said, mock hurt in his voice.

Percy tried to run through all of the Olympians that were Zeus’s children. His cousins, in other words, even though that thought made him a little lightheaded. There was Ares, the god of war that Percy didn’t think was this friendly, homeless dude. There was Hephaestus, which this guy could definitely be. He could be Hermes, maybe… Who else? Athena was obviously a girl and Percy doubted she would reveal herself like that—especially to the son of her rival, or whatever. And Artemis was trapped and, again, a girl.

Wait.

“Apollo?” Percy guessed. That would explain the bad haiku. And the fact that he was talking to Percy right now, when Artemis was being held captive by Luke and, if you squint, Percy.

The glint in the guy’s eyes let Percy know that he was right. “I’m incognito,” he said. “Call me Fred.”

“A god named Fred?”

“Eh, well…” His expression soured a little but he was still smiling and Percy wasn’t sure how a toothless smile could be this charming, but it somehow was. “Zeus insists on certain rules. Hands off, when there’s a human quest,” Apollo/Fred said. “Even when something really major is wrong. But nobody messes with my baby sister. Nobody.”

Percy wondered whether Artemis knew just how much her twin brother cared about her, for him to disobey their father’s rule and speak to Percy during a quest that he was indirectly involved in, even if he wasn’t one of the people on the quest. He hoped the goddess knew someone other than her Hunters cared about her this much. It was a nice thought to have, right?

“Can you help them, then?” Percy asked the god.

“Shhh. I already have. Haven’t you been looking outside?” he asked and Percy sent a look out the window of the car, watching as they moved forward at a speed that, now that he paid more attention to it, was way faster than it should have been. That was good to know—it meant that the quest was getting along well, right? And that Percy might see his friend the satyr again pretty soon.

He wondered what Grover would do when he sees him again. He hoped the satyr won’t hate him for leaving him behind to deal with the Minotaur, or for joining Luke, unknowingly betraying him and Chiron and every other demigod that was back at Camp Half-Blood.

“How did they catch Artemis?” Percy asked Apollo/Fred. “I didn’t think it was possible to catch a goddess.”

The immortal homeless sighed. “She was looking for an ancient monster that holds the power to take down Olympus and all of us, the gods. They ambushed her and took her away. She’s hidden from me, too, even though I know that you’ve informed these guys of her location.”

“What was Artemis seeking?” Percy asked. He wasn’t even sure he had the right to demand answers from a god, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to try, right? Could a god hurt him in a dream? “Do you know what it is?”

“No,” Apollo/Fred replied. “But there is one who might. If they haven’t yet found the monster when they reach San Francisco, they should seek out Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea. He has a long memory and a sharp eye. He has the gift of knowledge sometimes kept obscure from my Oracle.”

Percy frowned. “Your Oracle?” he asked. He had no idea what the god was talking about. “You mean this guy knows more than you do, then?”

“Ah, look at the time!” Apollo/Fred said, looking down at a cracked watch. “I have to run. I doubt I can risk helping you again, Percy, but remember what I said!” he said, as if Percy was the one on this quest and not these four other people that included Grover and Bianca. “And when you return, I expect a good haiku about your journey!”

“But I’m not even on this journey!” Percy tried to protest but the god was already gone and Percy’s dream turned fuzzy before it changed.

He was now in New York—Percy recognized the area immediately. He’d missed his city so much these last couple of years, so seeing it again kind of made him feel homesick even though his house now only contained his lazy stepfather and there was no warm, loving mother waiting for his return.

Eyes roaming around, Percy tried to understand why his dream took him to New York of all places. People moved past him, clearly unable to see him or just not caring enough to pay a random kid any mind—so… regular, old New York, then.

They moved past someone else, too. A kid—a huge kid—that was sitting on the ground next to a cardboard box that contained an empty can of peanut butter. He was sitting with his back against the wall of a building, looking hungry and a little dazed, like he was starving and about to faint at any moment now.

Percy took a step toward him and then inhaled sharply at the sight of his face. It wasn’t the most handsome of faces, he would admit, but what caught Percy off guard was the single eye the boy had instead of two. A Cyclops, Percy realized, dread filling him.

Luke had told Percy about Cyclops when some joined their ranks to the boy’s displeasure. He claimed they were all deceitful and monstrous. That they weren’t to be trusted and they were cruel and enjoyed the misery of demigods like the rest of the monsters in the mythological world. But he also said something else—that most Cyclops were the children of one certain god.

Back then it didn’t really mean much to Percy and he just accepted Luke’s words. Now he let them replay in his head with the knowledge that said god was his father, too. Meaning this homeless Cyclops could be his brother. Half-brother. It made him a little queasy to think about, to be honest. He wasn’t sure what to think or how to react and he didn’t understand what this dream was even supposed to mean.

And then a hand landed on Percy’s shoulder and he jerked in surprise at the feeling of someone touching him in a dream. He didn’t know that was possible!

Swiveling around, he found himself standing face to face with the same man he’d seen in his dream the previous night. His black, windswept hair matched Percy’s and his green eyes made Percy think back to those waves at Montauk that he and his mom had jumped over, giggling gleefully the entire time. He had a neatly trimmed black beard and his deep tan somehow made his eyes stand out even more.

He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, khaki Bermuda shorts, leather sandals and had a cap over his head that read ‘Neptune’s Lucky Fishing Hat’. His hand was scarred, as if he’d spent his entire life being a fisherman and got the scars to prove it.

Percy’s mind screeched to a halt as he seemed to try and figure out what to do and how to respond to this. Was he supposed to bow? Kneel before this god in the middle of the street, in his own dream? Was he supposed to beg him for forgiveness for everything that’s happened the last couple of years? He was too anxious to move, anyway, so the hand on his shoulder remained there, firm and solid—more so then Percy would have expected from a figure in his dream.

But then the man smiled down at him, his eyes crinkling, and Percy exhaled a little. He thought about that ocean scent in his room that didn’t seem to go away, and the dream—memory?—he’d had the previous night, in which his father seemed to predict how difficult Percy’s life would be while also pretty much saying that he would still love him, despite everything.

Did that still hold true? Was he really not upset? Angry? Betrayed? It felt impossible. The old stories about Poseidon always made Percy feel like this god was one of the less forgiving entities, but the man standing before him, smiling down at Percy like he was happy to run into him—like he was proud of him, almost. He made Percy feel like maybe things have changed, or perhaps the stories weren’t all accurate.

“Do all the gods talk to demigods through their dreams?” Percy blurted out.

He cringed internally and cursed himself. He probably shouldn’t have said that as his first words to his father. Luckily, Poseidon didn’t look like he was upset. In fact, his smile widened a little, like he found Percy amusing. Well, Percy assumed it was better than him coming off as rude and disrespectful, right? Not that he wasn’t…

“It is a rather more… discreet way for us to interact with our children without my brother taking notice of anything amiss,” his father said, humor lacing his every word.

Percy nodded like it made perfect sense and hoped he would receive some kind of clue as to what he was supposed to do or say because so far he felt… kind of lost, to be honest. He wasn’t sure why he got this dream or what Poseidon wanted, but the hand on his shoulder felt like it was weighing him down, silently scolding him for everything that’s gone down in the last two years.

His expression said otherwise, though.

“Uh… sir,” Percy started awkwardly. Poseidon’s eyes flashed like a wave passed through their calmness, stirring something deep inside. It made Percy even more nervous than he already was because he had no idea what that meant. “Why did you, uh, get me here?”

Instead of saying anything, Poseidon turned a little and gestured with his free hand toward the Cyclops sitting a few steps away from them, curled into himself in a way that reminded Percy of a little kid rather than the giant that he seemed to be.

His mouth went dry. “Who… uh, what…” Percy moved his eyes from the Cyclops to Poseidon and back, unsure as to how to react to this. “Who is this?”

“His name is Tyson,” Poseidon said and there was a hint of warmth in his voice that made Percy’s heart hammer just a little bit faster. “My youngest, so far.”

“Your youngest?” Percy repeated tonelessly, too stunned to really be able to process any of this properly. He blinked a few times and then observed the Cyclops that was definitely much bigger than Percy. “Are you sure?”

“Quite, yes,” his father said in an entertained tone that made some of the pressure in Percy’s body dissipate. He expected some kind of harsh parent, maybe, despite his dream the night before. Someone who would be all serious and stiff. Unrelenting. Someone Percy wouldn’t get along with because while Percy never tried to be a troublemaker, he still was.

But then he remembered Artemis’s words. She’d said that Poseidon was like Percy, right? That he was as unpredictable as Percy was, even though she didn’t even know him. But, then again, she also said that Poseidon was the kind of god who loved all his children, no matter what their personality was. So it was possible he was now introducing Percy to a monstrous Cyclops that would kill hundreds of demigods without a second thought.

“Well, at least… mentally, he is the youngest,” Poseidon added after a moment or two.

“What do you mean, uh, sir?”

Poseidon’s eyes twinkled. “Please, you can drop the formalities, Perseus,” he said and Percy held himself back from sighing in relief because this felt extremely unnatural, to call this man that looked so… familiar ‘sir’, like they were complete strangers.

In a sense, they were. Percy has never held a conversation with his father before and despite Poseidon’s amusement, he was sure the god felt at least some of the tension Percy was feeling. But his earliest memories—Percy’s obscure ones from his days as an infant—were of warmth that he’d always associated with his father. A warm smile aimed his way, a soothing hand on his forehead, like he was being blessed.

Even in this dream, Percy could feel the same sort of warmth coming off his father and he was certain beyond a doubt that he’d been visited by his father when he was a baby.

“Right. Yeah, okay,” Percy shuffled his feet a little. “You were saying?”

Poseidon moved his intense gaze from Percy to Tyson the Cyclops. “Tyson was born a year before you, but Cyclops mature slower, so despite being fifteen, he has the mentality of a kid around eight-years-old,” the god explained.

Percy’s eyes widened. “Wait, really?” He looked at the Cyclops again and observed the dejected way he sat there, huddled into himself and still unaware of the two people watching him, if they could even be seen in this state. “Why is he just sitting out here, then? Doesn’t he have, like, a home or something?”

Eyes turning sad, Poseidon sighed. “I wish I could take him under the sea and provide for him,” he said and Percy thought he sounded genuine enough. “Unfortunately, every time I do so for my Cyclops children too early, they turn out… rather spoiled and dangerous.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound good,” Percy said with a slight grimace before he focused back on his father. “So… what? Is anything wrong? I mean, other than the fact that he’s sitting in the street and looks like he’s half-starving.”

“Tyson has been praying for me to send him help for quite some time, Perseus,” the god said and Percy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at that, unsure as to how he was supposed to react to that. “I wanted to do something earlier, but I couldn’t find you anywhere—my darted father has been hiding you for far too long,” he said, and he sounded like he was really upset about that.

Percy looked at him questioningly. “So why are you showing this to me now? What can I do?”

He wasn’t sure what he expected Poseidon’s answer to be, but it wasn’t a slight, gentle shove in Tyson’s direction. “For starters, you may say hello, child.”

Percy spluttered. “What?” he squeaked but then Tyson’s head reared up and he seemed to finally spot Percy. His one eye trained on him almost instantly—brown and warm in a way Percy wasn’t expecting it to be. The Cyclops didn’t seem to notice Poseidon standing only a step or so behind Percy. “H-hey!” Percy stuttered clumsily.

Tyson blinked his one eye at him in confusion and then seemed to sniff the air like he was detecting an enticing scent. Percy has seen monsters do so before and he wasn’t sure how to react—chuckle awkwardly? Chance a look back at his father and beg him for some kind of guidance? Scream and run in terror even though this was a dream and he wanted to believe he couldn’t be harmed in it?

“Smell like the sea,” Tyson said after a tense moment.

Percy did end up chuckling nervously. He sent a look over his shoulder and nearly spluttered in distress when he couldn’t find Poseidon there. Father of the year, he was, leaving Percy alone with a half-brother that could possibly just decide to kill him for fun.

“Do I?” Percy mumbled and then, when Tyson just kept on looking at him with interest and no obvious malicious intent, shuffled forward—just a little. “That makes sense, I guess.”

His first thought was that the smell came from the ocean breeze in his room that was sent to him by his father, but then he realized that while that was perhaps part of it, the main reason he would smell like the sea was that he was the son of its god. He wasn’t really sure different demigods smelled like different things, but if that theory was correct, then maybe that was what Tyson was smelling.

Percy looked around, desperate to find something he could say to this Cyclops he didn’t really know but which his father seemed to be fond of. He thought nobody would ever force him to play nice with other kids like his mom used to do when he was little, but apparently that wasn’t true.

Percy’s eyes locked on the empty peanut butter can and he forced a smile onto his face. “So… you like peanut butter?” he asked with as much cheerfulness as he could muster.

Tyson nodded enthusiastically, eye glinting. “My favorite,” he said and he didn’t sound malicious or vicious or like he wanted to gut Percy and eat him. He really did sound like a little kid. It made Percy’s smile turn a little less forced. “Daddy got this for me,” he added proudly.

“You mean… Poseidon gave you a can of peanut butter?” Percy asked hesitantly.

“Yes!” Tyson replied. “You know him?”

Percy wanted to laugh and tell Tyson that he wouldn’t really say that he knew Poseidon. They only had one conversation, if he could really call it that, and he felt like he was acting all wrong throughout the entire thing. Really, he didn’t know his dad. He didn’t know what he was like when he wasn’t trying to plan a playdate for his two children.

Still, Percy shrugged and took another step toward Tyson. “Oh, you could say that,” he said, fully aware of the single eye of Tyson following him eagerly. “He’s, uh, my dad, too.”

“Brother?” Tyson asked and he sounded like he was suddenly filled with hope.

Percy wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this, but Tyson’s eagerness that definitely looked like a child’s enthusiasm made him smile, nonetheless. “Sure,” he shrugged. And maybe he wouldn’t have just claimed some random Cyclops as his brother any other day, but Poseidon himself introduced the two of them, so Tyson had to be worth it, right? And he seemed friendly… “My name’s Percy.”

“Brother!” Tyson called happily and he got up and to Percy before the demigod could protest. He was taller than Percy and definitely stronger because his arms wrapped around the boy and even in the dream he could tell that Tyson would have probably ended up cracking Percy’s ribs with this hug.

“Oh, gods…” Percy gasped out. “Tyson—hey, big guy—I can’t breathe!”

“Sorry,” the Cyclops said sheepishly, stepping away. He was still beaming at Percy, though, like he was a gift given to him by the gods. Which, Percy realized, he kind of was.

“Don’t worry about it,” Percy dismissed quickly, though he still wrapped a hand around his middle, sure that the pressure would have bruised him in the real world. He stared at Tyson and tried to understand how someone this big could be mentally younger than him.

It was strange to think that he had a sibling, anyway. Of course, he was sure he had more than only Tyson, but he never really needed to confront any of them before now. This felt strange. Tyson was bigger than him in any way possible—he was even a year older, apparently—but his smile was enough to reveal that he was a child inside and not a teenager like Percy.

He was like a satyr, Percy realized. Grover had mentioned being around twenty-eight when Percy was twelve, though he looked like he couldn’t have been older than thirteen and he sure did act like a teenager. Tyson was huge but he was acting like an eight-year-old.

“Brother is turning into mist,” Tyson noted.

Percy blinked and realized that the dream was becoming fuzzy. He was either waking up or moving on to something else. “Oh, right. It’s a dream for me, Tyson—I’m not really here,” he tried to explain.

The Cyclops still looked confused and more than a little alarmed. “Where are you going?”

Internally, Percy wanted to curse his dad for bringing him over here to meet Tyson only to not let him stay behind long enough, but he tried to send Tyson a reassuring smile, anyway. “Listen, I’m going away for a while but I hope I’ll be able to make it here soon, okay? I’ll look for you.”

“Percy is coming back?”

“Yes, big guy,” he said. “I promise I’ll come back the moment I can.”

And the dream ended with Tyson’s trusting smile etched into Percy’s brain, like he would wait for all eternity for Percy to show up if that was what he had to do.

Chapter Text

Percy made blue pancakes.

Seeing New York again after so long just made him want to feel as close to his mother as he possibly could, and that meant painting stuff blue. He could see the monsters around staring at him as he flipped the pancakes and was sure that they would take some of them, whether he wanted them to or not. He decided he didn’t care—he just wanted to get them ready and take everything that would be left over to Annabeth’s room.

Frankly, Percy wasn’t sure why he even found blue food coloring in the small kitchen that he knew Luke had insisted on having because the demigods around—the ones Percy barely even saw—had to eat normal food, unlike monsters. It wasn’t like food coloring was very important for anyone other than Percy and there weren’t any other colors in the cupboard where he’d found it.

A small part of him figured it hasn’t always been there—it was a sort of gift from his dad. It had to be. Maybe it was because he knew it would be hard for Percy to find himself back in California after finally seeing New York again. Or maybe it was like a small thank you for really talking to Tyson and not ignoring or dismissing him the way Percy was certain others might have done.

He didn’t feel like he did much—the two of them barely said more than a complete sentence to each other, but Tyson looked so happy and Percy didn’t pull out Riptide to kill the Cyclops, so he figured he didn’t mess it up too much.

“Okay, you can take one—one,” Percy said when he turned around with the plate of pancakes in one hand. The monsters behind him made him want to wince and shield the food, but he stopped himself before he could somehow really anger them. They could be polite… sometimes.

Still, it was pretty disgusting to think that Annabeth would have to eat the remaining pancakes after all of those other inhuman hands touched them.

He practically bolted out of the room once more than half the plate was emptied and Percy sprinted toward Annabeth’s door, heart pounding, though he wasn’t sure it was from the close proximity of the monsters in the kitchen or the food he felt might actually be infected in some way or another.

His legs took him toward the familiar room almost automatically, though he stopped walking for a moment as he moved past the entrance to the room where Artemis was—the one leading out of the mountain. He peeked inside and found Artemis kneeling there, grunting from the effort of carrying the sky on her own. She was sweating by now and looked a lot worse for wear than she did the previous days.

Biting his lip and glancing down at the pancakes in his plate, Percy hesitated for a moment before he walked toward the goddess cautiously, sparing a glance over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching him.

When he was only a few steps away from her, Artemis lifted her gaze and looked at Percy somewhat tiredly. She didn’t look like she hated him, however, which he considered to be good. In fact, compared to the venomous looks she’d sent Luke and Atlas, the one she aimed toward Percy could be considered friendly.

“Hey,” he greeted unsurely.

Artemis groaned a little. “Do you have news for me, Perseus Jackson?” she asked.

He shuffled his feet a little and offered her an awkward smile. “Four people are coming for you,” he informed her, glancing over his shoulder again just to be sure they were really alone. “I saw Grover—a satyr—and I know Bianca is there. I think she’d mentioned someone named Zoë the other day, too.”

“Zoë, my lieutenant,” Artemis said and her voice was fond now, like she was talking about an old friend she was extremely close to. “I am not surprised that she is coming here, as well,” she said and then composed herself again. “Do you know where they are? What trouble they’ve encountered?”

“Sorry, I didn’t get to talk to any of them,” Percy said. Artemis’s face was too blank for him to know how his words affected her. “But they’re traveling quickly, as far as I’m concerned. Apollo is helping them,” he said.

The goddess arched an eyebrow. “Is he now?” she asked. “I thought father wouldn’t allow such a thing.”

“He said he was going incognito, actually. Told me I should call him Fred,” Percy said and Artemis rolled her eyes, but Percy thought he could detect a smidgen of care and appreciation in the gesture. “He talked to me. He sounded pretty upset about you being gone. Maybe frustrated because he couldn’t find you.”

She didn’t look surprised. “I hope our father won’t punish him for doing so,” she said. “My brother might be silly and childish at times, but even I can’t deny that he cares. As he should—I am his sister.”

Percy smiled at her and then held out the plate of blue pancakes, showing them to the goddess. “Oh, uh, I actually came to ask if you’d like to eat one?” he said awkwardly. Artemis’s eyes watched him and he could swear there was mirth twinkling there. “I mean, I know gods eat ambrosia and drink nectar and all, but… I can’t give you those, and food is still food, so…”

For a moment she didn’t say anything and only watched Percy. He felt once more like she was trying to solve him like a puzzle she wasn’t sure how to complete. Like she had the pieces but no idea what the big picture would end up being. To be frank, Percy wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He had no idea what she was trying to assess in him or why. All he knew was that Artemis didn’t like boys, yet so far she hasn’t been too demeaning toward him.

“These are… pancakes, right?” Artemis asked at long last, eyes drifting down to look at the blue circles (allegedly) Percy was holding. At his nod, she smiled a little. “I have never tried them before. Are they any good?”

Percy glanced down at his pancakes and made a so-so gesture. “Normally, yes. The best. But I made these and I’m not sure they turned out that good,” he admitted.

She smirked. “Well, let’s have a taste, then,” she said and there was definitely a bit of amusement in her voice now. “I’m afraid you’ll have to help me, though, boy, seeing as my hands are a little… tied up at the moment.”

It was such a terrible pun that Percy burst out laughing as he stepped closer and cut a piece of the top pancake with the fork he’d prepared for Annabeth. He will just have to wash it later before actually getting around to giving Annabeth her breakfast. He hoped she wasn’t getting restless in there, waiting for him to come, but he just felt like this was the right thing to do right now.

To be honest, though, nothing beat how awkward it was to spoon-feed (fork-feed, whatever) a goddess who was crouching under a weight that would have killed any mortal after such a long time. Percy was pretty sure this didn’t happen very often and the fact that he was a boy only made it a little more apparent to him that Artemis was either going to kill him once she was freed and could think straight, or she was just liking him for some reason or another.

He didn’t really feel like asking as Artemis ate the pancake, not commenting on its taste at all and instead chewing it thoughtfully, a bit of color somehow returning to her cheeks. This wasn’t ambrosia, but it still seemed to help her. Percy wanted to pat himself on the back for thinking of this in the first place, but he had half a mind thinking it was actually the blue food coloring that had this effect on Artemis.

Who knows, maybe it was actually blue nectar from his dad, disguised as innocent (but very out of place) food coloring.

Once she was done with the pancake, Percy stepped away from Artemis once more, knowing his cheeks were burning from how weird this situation was. Artemis, on the other hand, looked unbothered in the least.

“Pancakes,” the goddess said thoughtfully, eyes gliding over toward the entrance to the mountain. Her lips quirked up a little. “I will have to remember to try them again someday,” she said and then met Percy’s eyes and her silver/golden eyes danced happily, like she was feeling more alive than she did before. “Thank you, Perseus Jackson.”

“Oh, yeah, no problem,” he stammered out and then quickly excused himself and hurried away from the goddess and toward Annabeth’s room, his mind buzzing too loudly for him to remember he needed to actually wash the fork he was holding before getting to his new friend’s room.

He felt like it took forever to reach Annabeth’s room even though it wasn’t even far away. The whole place was kind of small, after all. But before he could even reach the door, he noticed someone standing next to it, looking rather grumpy and annoyed.

“Luke?” Percy asked somewhat apprehensively.

The blond turned to Percy and a smile that looked more like a grimace stretched his lips up. “Hey, Percy,” he greeted stiffly. Percy halted a few steps away from him, unsure as to what was going on. “Are those for Annabeth?” Luke asked, pointing at the three pancakes that were left.

Percy glanced down at them and then nodded mutely.

“Good—I’ll take them,” he said.

Percy gulped uneasily and shifted his stance, not handing the plate over to the older boy. “Oh, uh, why?”

“I need to talk to her,” he replied and there was an edge to his voice that Percy couldn’t decipher. “You need to train, anyway. I’ll watch her today.”

That was the last thing Percy wanted to do. Both because of Annabeth’s history with Luke and because he just really wanted to spend another day with Annabeth and he wasn’t sure how long she would stay here and what will happen once her friends came to rescue her. He had no idea how long she would stay around and even though it was messed up that she had to still be locked up, he kind of dreaded the day it would come to an end.

Grover used to be his friend back at Yancy—he was his first real friend, actually—but now Percy was befriending Annabeth, too, and he didn’t feel like letting his one friend slip away from him the same way Grover had. Not that he would stand in her way—he wanted her to be free again and to get back to her life—but he wasn’t sure he would be able to follow her away from this depressing existence he was living, too.

And now Luke was stealing an entire day they could have spent together to… talk to her. About gods only know what.

“Sure,” he forced out and jerkily handed Luke the plate with the pancakes. “Thanks.”

He watched as Luke nodded, grabbed the plate and then entered Annabeth’s room without so much as another glance in Percy’s direction. The moment the door locked behind him, Percy pressed his ear to it, feeling guilty for eavesdropping, but also very much intrigued and curious.

“Luke?” He heard Annabeth’s muffled voice. She sounded surprised—more than surprised. She sounded kind of disappointed, although Percy figured that was only a figment of his imagination—it had to be.

“Hey, Annabeth,” Luke greeted calmly.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Percy?”

He cringed a little but didn’t move any further.

“I let him have the day off—he’s off training, most probably,” Luke replied easily. “Oh, here—you’re probably hungry by now, huh?”

It was silent for a moment or two and then Annabeth’s voice chimed back up, a little quieter than before. “Did you make them? Why are they blue?”

“Yeah, I did,” Luke lied. Percy scoffed. “And I felt like it—a little change. Went on a little trip to find the food coloring. I figured it would be a nice change from the monotone, right?”

Percy cringed a little internally, knowing Luke would most probably confront him about the food coloring, thinking he’d snuck off again to find it.

Annabeth didn’t answer and Percy pushed himself away from the door reluctantly, bitterness filling him despite himself. Normally, he wouldn’t care if someone said they’d made something Percy had, but this time it just sort of got under his skin, for some reason. He was the one who’d made those pancakes—not Luke. It bugged him so much that he’d lied to Annabeth about it, like it was no big deal.

And if it wasn’t a big deal, then why even lie? Was he trying to get on Annabeth’s good graces for some reason? After tricking her into carrying the sky, Percy didn’t see how the girl would ever be able to trust Luke. Blue pancakes were definitely not something Percy would have gone with to try and soothe her, that’s for sure. It wasn’t exactly a peace offering, after all.

Percy was almost surprised when he found himself standing in the room Luke had presented to him what felt like ages ago as the training room. It was nothing special, of course, but there were weapons lining the walls or piled up on the ground, and a bunch of straw-filled dummies. Percy knew this room like the back of his hand after spending so much time in it, sparring with Luke to become better, better, better for whatever plan Kronos had for him.

Pulling out Anaklusmos, Percy uncapped the pen and then stared at the familiar blade, his brain supplying him with the image of his past teacher—Mr. Brunner AKA Chiron—as he rolled toward Percy in that museum in his wheelchair and threw Riptide toward (at) him to help him against the Fury.

With a tired sigh, Percy went to the corner of the room to drag over a dummy from the corner so he could train a little bit. He didn’t really feel like it, but Luke wanted him to, and he wasn’t sure not doing as he was told when he was already giving important information to Luke’s enemies was a very good idea. With his luck, Percy would get caught soon enough.

But before he could grab the dummy, Percy’s eyes fell on a knife—a dagger—that rested on a table next to it. There were other weapons next to it, too, but the knife looked… different. It glinted a little like Percy’s sword. Celestial Bronze, Percy knew. It made him hesitate, for some reason, though Percy wasn’t sure why. This dagger wasn’t like the other weapons in the room and he couldn’t even explain it to himself.

So he just picked it up and stashed it away, thinking he would be able to look into it some other time, perhaps.

He went to sleep earlier that evening, wishing the next morning would come quickly because he wanted to go back to visit Annabeth and talk to her and maybe ask her what Luke wanted from her, even if it was none of his business and she would probably not even answer him.

Of course, going to sleep also brought back his nightmares.

And this time… this time his dream was definitely a nightmare.

This time, Percy was standing in the middle of what seemed to be a giant—and he meant giant—junkyard. It was night, of course, but he could still see the many discarded items thrown all around him and under his feet. Some things were extremely interesting. Others were boring or mundane. He wasn’t sure what he was doing there, to be honest, until he heard someone calling his name.

“Percy!”

He turned around and found Bianca standing there, eyes wide and lips pulled up in what seemed to be relief. Next to her stood three other teenagers. Two of them—girls—eyed Percy suspiciously and prepared their weapons (a bow and a spear). The third one widened his eyes and gaped at Percy like he was staring at a ghost.

Percy offered him a small smile and then focused on Bianca who walked toward him quickly. “Hey, Bianca,” he greeted. “Good to see you’re alive.”

“Bianca, what is this? Who is this boy?” Asked one of the girls. She was tall and seemed to be around fourteen, maybe. There was something extremely graceful about her. Her eyes were brown and her hair long and dark with a silver circlet braided into its top. Her skin was copper-colored and her expression, despite being gorgeous, was fierce, like she was already thinking of ways to dismantle him.

Her silver clothes—matching Bianca’s—made Percy assume that this was Zoë, the other Hunter on this quest. He briefly wondered what happened to the third Hunter Bianca had mentioned the other night, but didn’t dwell on that.

Once more, it looked like Bianca had to stop herself before she could actually try to hug Percy. She looked back at the three standing a few paces away from them and gestured vaguely toward Percy, as if that would answer anything.

Luckily, Grover seemed to react faster. “Perrr-cy!” he cried out—more like bleated, really—and ran forward. He didn’t stop himself, instead wrapping his arms around Percy in a strong hug, like he was afraid Percy might disappear again. “I thought you might be dead! What are you doing here??”

“Oh, it’s a long story, really—“

“Wait, Grover, you know him?” The third girl asked. Her hair was dark, too, but it was spiky. Her eyes were an electric blue that made Percy recoil just a little. Even in the darkness Percy spotted the freckles on her face. She wore a leather jacket and if he wasn’t mistaken, there were skull earrings—glinting in the moonlight—attached to her ears.

Percy got the feeling he should know her. Yeah, he was fairly certain he’d had a dream with her in it a long time ago, but he couldn’t recall it at all.

Grover pulled away from Percy, a beaming smile on his face that hasn’t changed from the night before, when he was busy snoring in the backseat of a car. He looked like he was about to start jumping and dancing enthusiastically at any moment now from how happy he was.

“It’s Percy—Percy Jackson. I told you about him, remember?” the satyr said, giving the girl a look over his shoulder. Then he looked back at Percy. “Man, where have you been hiding all this time? Where did you even come from?”

Scratching the back of his neck, Percy glanced at Bianca. “I’m not really here, actually,” he said. Grover looked at him funny, like he was speaking a different language. “Yeah, I’m having these really strange dreams lately. They started two days ago, when I met Bianca and Nico.”

“He just showed up out of nowhere at camp,” Bianca chimed in. “I told you someone told me where to find Artemis and Annabeth,” she told the others, mainly focusing on Zoë.

The punk girl narrowed her eyes, not lowering her weapon.

Zoë did make her bow vanish at the trust shining in Bianca’s eyes, though. “If I recall correctly, you also said you got your information from a person on the inside. Someone who works for Kronos and Luke,” she said.

Grover stared at Percy. “Wait, what?” he asked. “Percy wouldn’t…”

Percy cringed and his friend gave him a look of utter disbelief and betrayal. “I’m sorry!” Percy said quickly. “I didn’t know anything back then and Luke found me after I killed the Minotaur. I thought you were dead, Grover. I only found out you were still alive yesterday.”

“You work for Luke,” The girl with the spear accused. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just run you through with my spear.”

Before Percy could think of anything to say, Bianca stepped between him and the girl. “No, listen, he’s not our enemy, Thalia.”

“Wait, Thalia?” Percy asked. “As in, Annabeth’s Thalia? As in, the girl who used to be a tree?”

“You saw Annabeth?” Grover asked.

Thalia (apparently) pushed forward and suddenly she was right in front of Percy, the front of his shirt clutched tightly between her fingers as she narrowed her unnervingly blue eyes at him. She was the daughter of Zeus, he reminded himself. Did that make her stronger or something? Was she capable of, like, shooting lightning from her eyes?

He wouldn’t really be surprised if she could.

“Annabeth—tell me everything you know about her right now or I swear I’m going to—“

“Thalia!” Bianca and Grover objected.

Zoë looked like she wasn’t sure whose side to pick here. “We shan’t be rush,” she said, taking a step toward Thalia. “Put this boy down.”

Thalia ignored the three of them and shook Percy a little when he failed to find the words to answer. “Go on, tell me everything. Where is she? What have you done to her since she was captured? What kind of torture—“

“Whoa, hey, nobody tortured her!” Percy objected defiantly. He ripped himself and his shirt out of Thalia’s clutches and took a step or two backward, eyeing her warily. “Look, pinecone face—”

“Don’t call me that!”

Percy ignored her. “She got there and Luke tricked her into carrying the sky for… I’m not sure how long. Until Artemis showed up and replaced her and me. Since then, Annabeth’s just been locked in a room. I give her food every day, three times at least, okay? She’s not stuck in some dungeon from a video game!”

“She carried the sky?!” Thalia spluttered.

Grover stared at Percy. “Wait, you carried it with her?” he asked in astonishment.

They were all staring at him now. Percy shifted uncomfortably. “Look, it’s no big deal, alright? I’m just… you have to get her out of there. Her and Artemis. I don’t know what Luke wants from Annabeth, but he just spent the entire day talking to her and I’m not sure about what because he told me to go away.”

The two girls Percy knew the least frowned at him and he could tell they weren’t sure about him. But Grover’s eyes cleared and he looked like he didn’t have any problem with trusting Percy again, like he used to during their one year together at school. And Bianca already trusted him anyway.

“How’s Artemis? Have you seen her today?” Bianca asked.

“Oh, yeah, I let her eat a—” Percy shook his head. “Never mind.”

They stared at him strangely and he shrugged as if to say that it wasn’t important and they should really not focus on that part right now, when they were on a time limit.

Eventually, Zoë turned toward Bianca with a serious expression. “Bianca, do you truly believe this boy is to be trusted?” she asked sternly.

The girl nodded. “He swore on the Styx—more than once,” she said earnestly.

“Then we shall carry on,” Zoë said. “We do not have time to waste on this.” She gave Percy a long look, one that kind of reminded him of Artemis’s puzzled and inquisitive gaze. “If Bianca trusts you, then so do I, boy.”

She sounded like she was doubtful of her own words, but she didn’t take them back, so Percy figured that was better than nothing and accepted them at face value.

And with that, she turned around and kept on walking across the wasteland that was this junkyard. Bianca smiled at Zoë’s back in relief and then cringed a little at the suspicious look on Thalia’s face as she glanced at Percy again before following in Zoë’s footsteps.

Grover and Bianca stayed with Percy, telling him about their journey so far (apparently, there were deadly skeletons after them that didn’t seem to be able to die. That was a cheery thought). They explained that this junkyard belonged to Hephaestus and that they mustn’t take anything from it, no matter how big or small it was.

They still picked up things every now and then, though, unable to resist the temptation of exploring their surroundings. Grover kept on sending Percy these looks, like he couldn’t believe he was actually walking next to his friend again after two years. To be fair, Percy kind of felt the same way as he repeatedly found his eyes drifting toward the satyr.

They did have a weird moment when they were nearing the edge of the area, getting close to the highway up ahead, and found a strange… thing bulging up like a giant foot. Percy had no idea what kind of being was this big, but he thought it was strange to see a prosthetic leg thrown in the junkyard of the gods so carelessly. Surely it could all be recycled or something, right?

“Hey, did you figure out who your dad was?” Grover asked when they were approaching the edge of the yard.

Percy shrugged. “Poseidon, apparently,” he said. Grover’s eyes widened and Bianca watched the two of them curiously but didn’t say anything as she kept her hands in the pockets of her silver jacket. “Yeah, I only confirmed it, like, two days ago, I think. And he talked to me in a dream yesterday before making me meet a brother of mine.”

“You have a brother?” Grover screeched, sounding breathless.

“Oh, he’s a Cyclops,” Percy assured him. “I’m the only demigod child he has, as far as I’m concerned.”

Ahead of them, Zoë and Thalia exited the junkyard, soon followed by Bianca, Grover and Percy.

And then everything went disastrous as they heard a rustling sound behind them and found a giant robot that Zoë identified as Talos—or… a damaged version of the automaton. Talos was huge and he was clearly going to kill them (maybe not Percy, because it was still a dream) for stealing something from the yard, which immediately made both Zoë and Thalia turn to glare at Percy accusingly.

He was more than a little upset when their first instinct was to accuse him of being the culprit in this situation. Seriously, he wasn’t even sure what they thought he would do with something stolen when he couldn’t teleport it to his body on Mount Tam. But he didn’t say anything and just drew out Riptide, praying to his dad that he would be able to help despite not physically being there with the group.

Luckily, Zoë and Thalia both had to turn their attention away from Percy and to the giant automaton soon enough, which gave Percy enough time to look around and try to figure something out.

He didn’t figure out a plan, though. Instead, he spotted Bianca, standing frozen next to him, eyes wide with fear and… guilt?

“You took something,” Percy accused her after dragging her away from Talos’s path as Thalia, Grover and Zoë started fighting him. He and Bianca hid behind a broken chariot but despite moving, Bianca’s eyes were still wide with terror and she looked a little like she wasn’t completely with him. “Give it back! Throw it down!”

“I… it’s too late,” she mumbled.

He didn’t have the time to press her some more after that because Talos tried to step on them like they were tiny, nasty spiders. Percy and Bianca ran out of the way and Percy watched as Grover started playing his reed pipes, making power cords dance around before they twisted toward Talos and electrocuted him. The automaton sparked and creaked.

Percy focused on the frozen Bianca again. “Come on!” he urged her. They didn’t have time for her to just stand there and not do anything. She needed to at least move out of the way before Talos killed them.

Instead of stepping away, though, Bianca pulled out a small figurine out of the pocket of her jacket, showing it to Percy shakily. “It… it was for Nico,” she said in a broken voice. Percy’s heart was hammering in concern at the entire situation but he still felt a spike of worry and heartbreak toward the girl. “It was the only statue he didn’t have.”

“What is this?” he asked.

“It’s… for Mythomagic,” she explained in a pained voice. “It’s this game he’s obsessed with.”

“How can you think of a game at a time like this?”

She was tearing up before his eyes and he wasn’t sure what to do but one glance toward the automaton attacking the others made him curl his fingers angrily and he turned back to Bianca.

“Throw it down,” he urged her. “Maybe the giant will leave us alone.”

Bianca looked like she wanted to protest, but she still dropped the statue. It didn’t do anything.

Grover got buried in scrap metal that the giant ended up hitting when he missed Grover. Percy’s mind screeched to a halt for a moment as he searched for his old friend and couldn’t find him. He wasn’t coming back out of the mountain of metal. Was he okay?

Angry, Thalia attacked the giant and Percy remained by Bianca’s side as she seemed to sway a little, her eyes dazed and worried and definitely guilty. He wanted to shake her out of it because they needed her help not her feelings of shame, but then his eyes focused on the bottom of Talos’s foot. There was a manhole there, he realized, to allow entry in case the robot needed repairs, probably.

“Crazy-idea time,” Percy said.

“Anything,” Bianca mumbled.

“At the bottom of his shoe there’s a maintenance hatch,” Percy told her hurriedly. “There may be a way to control the thing. Switches or something,” he explained. Bianca nodded slowly as she listened to this, a bit of hope sparkling in her dark eyes. “I’m going to get inside.”

She shook her head at him. “How? You’ll have to stand under its foot!” Bianca objected. “You’ll be crushed.”

Percy shrugged. “It’s only a dream for me. Even if something happens to me, I might not actually die. It’s just going to really, really suck for a moment or two. Probably,” he scrunched up his nose and then squared his shoulders. “Distract it. I’ll just have to time it right.”

Bianca didn’t look mollified. “No,” she said determinedly. “You said so yourself—you’re in a dream. You might wake up in the middle of trying to control Talos and then we’ll have to deal with him again,” she said and set her jaw. “I’ll go.”

“You can’t. You’re new at this!” Percy protested. “You’ll die.”

“It’s my fault the monster came after us. It’s my responsibility. Here.” She picked up the statue of the game she’d stolen and handed it over to Percy. He stared down at it, feeling like his heart was pounding faster as a feeling of doom seemed to crawl all over his body. “If anything happens, give that to Nico. Tell him… tell him I’m sorry.”

And then she charged at Talos.

Percy felt slightly numb. “Bianca, no!” he called after her.

Something was wrong. Something was going to go wrong and he could just tell he won’t be able to stop it no matter what he tried to do. Bianca ran closer to the automaton and Zoë screamed at her, demanding to know what was happening. Percy watched, hand still curled around the figurine she’d given him, and then stuffed it into his pocket and ran forward.

“Hey, Junk Boy!” he yelled at Talos. “Down here.”

He ran forward and slashed at the leg of the automaton with his sword. It definitely drew Talos’s attention and the giant went to squash him like a bug again. Percy sprinted out of the way so that the metallic leg landed a few inches away from him, only barely missing him. Unfortunately, the impact still made Percy get knocked into the air and he hit a refrigerator of all things.

Dazed, Percy sat back up, a hand pressing against his head. He wasn’t sure what kind of dream this was where he could feel things so vividly, but he didn’t appreciate it too much.

Before Talos could finish Percy off, Grover somehow clambered back out of the mount of scraps he got buried under and used his reed pipes again, making another power line attack Talos. Fortunately, that distracted the giant who turned away from Percy and over to Grover. Unfortunately, Grover seemed to be exhausted from all the magic because he only managed to take a couple of steps away from Talos before he collapsed and didn’t get back up.

“Grover!” Percy yelled and he could hear Thalia screaming along with him. They were both running toward Grover, knowing they wouldn’t make it in time to save their friend.

And then Talos froze. Zoë and Thalia both stared at him in confusion as he started moving his arms and legs weirdly, like he was doing the Funky Chicken. And then he punched himself in the face and Percy’s sense of doom lessened a little.

“Go, Bianca!” he cheered.

“She is inside?” Zoë asked, looking utterly horrified. As the automaton started staggering around, they all realized they were still in danger. Percy and Thalia worked together (very reluctantly) to carry Grover out of the way and Zoë was already running ahead of them, nearly at the highway. “How will Bianca get out?” she asked over her shoulder.

He didn’t have the time to answer before the giant punched himself again, dropped his sword and stumbled toward the power lines. Percy’s heart dropped in an instance as he called out to warn them all—especially Bianca—but it was too late.

Talos—Bianca inside—staggered ahead. His ankle snared the lines and electricity shot up his body, shocking him completely. Percy found himself praying to whatever god was out there, listening, to please let the inside be isolated because if it wasn’t… if it wasn’t, then Bianca stood no chance.

The giant’s right hand fell off and he careened into the junkyard. His left arm got dispatched as well and slowly but surely the rest of his joints started falling apart. Percy watched in horror as the robot started running further into the junkyard and away from them. Zoë yelled after him as the four of them followed as quickly as they could, but they stood no chance—Talos was huge and pieces of him kept on falling in their way, forcing them to make detours.

Eventually, the automaton broke down completely and Percy and the others set out to try and spot Bianca somewhere in there, between all the wreckage. They were all calling out her name, desperately clinging to the hope that somehow she survived this.

Percy’s vision was getting blurry and he knew his body was becoming more transparent, see-through. Still, he kept on looking, the image of Nico’s serious face as he made him promise to keep his sister alive resurfacing in his brain as he tried not to break down completely.

The sky was turning a lighter shade of blue as night slowly turned to day. Zoë stopped searching and instead sat there, crying. Thalia screamed in rage and impaled the head of Talos.

“We can keep searching,” Percy said urgently, voice shaky. He kind of sounded like he was speaking through a long tunnel as everything turned less and less sharp, out of focus. “It’s light now. We’ll find her.”

“No, we can’t,” Grover said and he sounded absolutely defeated and miserable as he did so. “It happened just as it was supposed to.”

“What the heck do you mean?!” Percy turned to face him, his vision so fuzzy now that he could barely see the features of his friend’s face. “Why would anything like this happen? No, it’s impossible. We have to keep searching. She’s here somewhere.”

Thalia looked at him and for once she didn’t look suspicious or angry (not at him, anyway). She looked resigned and a little worried. “Percy, you’re waking up.”

“I don’t care,” he kept on looking through the rubble. “I promised Nico I’d try to keep her safe. I can’t… I should’ve…” He took in a shaky breath and then fell down to his knees when his legs shook too much to carry his weight any longer. “This was my idea. It should have been me. I should’ve gone into the giant,” he said numbly.

Suddenly Grover’s frantic voice reached him, sounding way closer than it was before. “Don’t say that!” he protested. “It’s bad enough Annabeth is gone, and now Bianca. Do you think I could stand it if…” he sniffled pitifully and Percy turned his blurry eyes to his friend—someone he still considered his best friend, really—and stared at his face, unsure as to how to react to Grover’s alarmed tone. “I just found you again. Do you think anybody else would be my best friend?”

“Ah, Grover…”

“I’m…” He wiped tears from his cheeks. “I’m okay. I’m just… I already lost you once, and I have friends at camp, but it’s not the same, you know?”

Percy offered him a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry,” he said, because that was all he could think of to say right now. The world was darkening around him and he straightened up quickly, panicked. “Guys, no one else is allowed to die!” he yelled at them and then he grabbed Grover and thrust the Mythomagic figurine into his hand. “Don’t lose this—I’m going to need it later.”

And then he blinked and he was no longer in the junkyard.

He wasn’t sure this scenery was any better, though, because now he was standing in front of a huge chasm which he was already capable of recognizing as the entrance to Tartarus in the Underworld. Which meant that Kronos decided to chat with him again.

“Ah, my little hero,” The familiar cold voice echoed around Percy, making him shudder and feel like he was being crushed.

Unlike the other dreams, here Percy couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. He could only listen. Kronos never wanted anything more from him—just his obedience, after all. No need to give Percy the ability to talk back.

“Soon,” Kronos’s voice said, sounding like he was basking in the fact that his plan seemed to be playing out rather nicely. “Soon your purpose will be fulfilled and I shall rise again. Your part in it will be grand—you shall do me a service like no other.”

Percy wanted to tell him that he wanted nothing to do with Kronos’s plan, but he couldn’t voice his thoughts. He could only hold his ground the best he could as an invisible force seemed to try and cling to him, claw its way toward him from within the depths of the pit. Percy was no stranger to this feeling—he always felt like Kronos used these dreams to pull himself just a little further up and out of Tartarus.

He wished he could force him to stop, but there was nothing Percy could do without the ability to move or speak. He could only hope Thalia, Grover and Zoë will reach the mountain in time. That they will rescue Artemis and Annabeth and put a stop to Kronos’s current plan.

“I’ll give you the chance to get your revenge against your father who hasn’t even bothered to cure your dear mother,” Kronos continued and Percy wished he could block the voice out. He thought about his dad’s calm and smiling face. He showed so much love with that expression, acting like Percy hasn’t been helping Kronos for two years. He didn’t want to take revenge—Percy wanted to prove to his dad that he really deserved that trust. “Soon… soon…”

He woke up with a start, eyes wide and body shaking as the chilliness from his nightmares clung to him relentlessly.

Chapter Text

“What did Luke want from you yesterday?” Percy asked as he locked the door behind him, holding a bottle of water and a chocolate sandwich—he wasn’t in the mood to make anything else. He still felt numb after Bianca’s death.

Annabeth was sitting on her bed, looking a little anxious. At his question, though, she narrowed her eyes at Percy and pressed her lips together. “He tried to convince me to join him again, what else?” she said with a sigh. She looked like she was used to it, but she also seemed to be upset with Percy, for some reason. “Where were you?”

“He told me not to come here.”

She frowned but still took the sandwich from him. Percy put the water bottle next to her bed and then just sort of hovered there, not sure what to do with himself. Nothing felt right. Nothing felt real. The most vivid thing around was Annabeth but Percy’s hammering heart kind of made him want to look away from her, too, before his hope grew too much.

This was impossible, he knew. No matter what came next… even if Annabeth stayed there, trapped for months with him as her main company, Percy knew nothing would ever happen because she was Annabeth and she was beautiful and smart and she called him Seaweed Brain, which he was still unsure how to decipher. Was it a mocking nickname? Was it supposed to be friendly?

So he couldn’t focus on that. He couldn’t get too close if he didn’t want to have to force himself to suffer from withdrawal from Annabeth later on. Which was a problem, because he was already pretty much convinced that he would miss her a whole lot once she walked away with her friends. Grover might want Percy to come, too, and maybe Annabeth wouldn’t be opposed to it…

But Thalia disliked him strongly and thought he was her enemy, which, technically, he was. And Zoë was a Hunter of Artemis and didn’t really appreciate men in general, a category that included Percy. Both of them had no reason to want to take Percy back with them. And to take him, they would have to fight Luke and Atlas. Kronos wanted Percy for something, after all—he wasn’t just going to give up on him without a fight.

Annabeth scooted over on her bed until there was enough space for Percy. He didn’t take it and just kept on hovering, aimlessly looking around. Bianca’s teary faced seemed to have attached itself to his eyelids. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her mournful face as she realized she had doomed all of them because she wanted to surprise her little brother.

“I missed you yesterday,” Annabeth cut through the thick silence.

Percy blinked a few times and then focused on her again. She was watching him like she wanted to open his mind and see what was bugging him so she could fix it. He looked away quickly. “Yeah…” he mumbled. “Me, too.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Why aren’t you sitting down?” she asked. “Did you have a nightmare? You can tell me, you know.”

He shut his eyes tightly and then inhaled to try and calm himself down. “Bianca is dead,” he said. Annabeth stared at him, stunned. “A giant robot attacked them and… I suggested a stupid way to take it down and she… she did it instead of me and…” He tangled his fingers in his hair and groaned. “We searched for her and we couldn’t even find her body.”

“Oh, no…” Annabeth muttered, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. And then she was standing up, her sandwich discarded on the bed, and her gray eyes were staring right into Percy’s own, commanding his attention. “This isn’t your fault, Percy. You can’t blame yourself for it. She chose to do it, okay? Even if it was your idea, she took it. She thought it would work and she was willing to risk her life to save the rest of you guys.”

“I shouldn’t have let her do it…”

The girl’s frown deepened. “Hey, you blaming yourself is only taking from her choice, Percy,” she said, voice sterner now. Percy stared at her miserably. “She made her choice—she died a hero. I’m sure she’s going to get to Elysium. It… it hurts and she was young and shouldn’t have found her death on this quest, but… but she isn’t the first demigod to die at a young age, alright? A demigod that’s reached maturity is really rare. She… she shouldn’t have died, but she did and you need to respect her decision.”

He didn’t want to. He wanted to keep on praying that he could go back in time and run toward Talos before Bianca. He wanted to be the one in that electrocuted robot. But a part of him knew Annabeth was right. He couldn’t do anything about it. He couldn’t change what had already happened.

“She did get to Elysium,” Percy said. “She had to.”

Annabeth smiled gently at him and he realized with a start that one of her hands was holding his own while the other was carding through his hair, tugging a little at the gray strand he had that matched hers.

His brain told him to pull away quickly because he couldn’t stay this close—he would regret it soon enough, after all. The rest of his being refused, though, and Percy found himself frozen in place, staring into Annabeth’s eyes and wondering whether or not Aphrodite was just messing with him right now, laughing at his expense.

“Have you told Artemis, yet?” Annabeth asked.

Percy shook his head. “How am I supposed to tell her that her newest recruit was killed?” he asked. “She’ll kill me the moment someone takes the sky from her.”

“She won’t kill you,” Annabeth said, and there was a glint in her eyes, like she was already making plans for the future, for such a scenario. You know, just in case it happened despite her words. “I won’t let her.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to stop a goddess, Wise Girl.”

Her calculating look faded away as she grinned at Percy. “Wise Girl?”

He shrugged. “It suits you.”

“Clarisse—a daughter of Ares that doesn’t really get along with me back at camp—calls me that, sometimes,” she said, her voice lighter than it was before, like remembering that girl—even if she didn’t get along with Annabeth—made her feel better, already.

Percy scrunched up his nose. “Fine, I’ll figure something else out, then,” he said in defeat.

Annabeth shook her head, though, her lips tugging upward like she couldn’t stop herself from smiling despite herself. It was really pretty, Percy thought. She was pretty when she was thoughtful, but she was also pretty when she was just grinning at him like she was enjoying herself or when she beat him at Catan or when she was annoyed or confused.

He shook his head to get rid of these thoughts as soon as possible and Annabeth’s hand slipped out of his hair and down to his shoulder before she moved it to mess with the hair tickling the back of his neck. It made goosebumps spread over his body and he suppressed a shiver and just let her do as she pleased. Not like she had much else going her way as a prisoner, after all, right?

“No, you can call me that,” Annabeth said. “It sounds different coming from you, anyway. It’s nothing alike.”

“Okay. If you say so,” Percy said, trying to sound nonchalant even though he was pretty sure that didn’t work. He probably sounded really stupid, actually.

Were her eyes getting bigger, or was she moving closer? Wait, was he moving closer to her? He wasn’t sure, but he suddenly realized that Annabeth had a little, pale scar on her cheek and there were pale freckles on the bridge of her nose that were hard to see from afar and she was taller than him—just a little, but it still registered in his brain as something he really hoped wouldn’t last for too long.

“Percy,” Annabeth said and he was pretty sure he wasn’t imagining the way it sounded more like a whisper than anything else.

“Yeah?”

“Remembered how I told you our parents are rivals?” she asked.

He froze a little. It was slightly hard to concentrate on her words when he was close enough to feel the air blowing out of her mouth as she spoke, but he forced himself to focus. “Uh… sure?”

Annabeth kept on playing with his hair and he closed his eyes and finally Bianca’s face didn’t stare back at him with tears in her eyes. Instead, all he could see was Annabeth’s soft expression—the same one she had now, for some reason. And he thought he knew what was happening, but he didn’t want to hope. He couldn’t hope. He probably should have already pulled away and offered her a game of Catan instead of… doing this—whatever this was.

But he couldn’t really bring himself to move. Hope was such a treacherous thing, wasn’t it?

“You asked me if we can be friends,” Annabeth reminded him, apparently incapable of hearing his loud, loud thoughts, somehow.

He drew his eyebrows together. Okay, he had no idea where she was getting at, after all. Now would be the perfect time to pull away, right? “Right…?”

She was still smiling, but now she was also shaking her head and Percy had no idea how her nose could brush his when they were supposed to be further away from each other. Unless he was still rooted to the spot like an idiot instead of doing the wise thing and pulling away.

The hand holding his forced him to spread his fingers until she could intertwine them with hers. And it felt so natural, in a way, yet Percy wasn’t sure how that could be when he wasn’t even sure they would be able to see each other once Annabeth was whisked out of there. She would leave and Kronos will sink his nails into Percy and force him to stay to help with his plan—whatever it may be—and they would probably end up fighting each other at some point.

Annabeth stopped shaking her head and just smiled at him now. “The thing is, I don’t think I can be your friend, Percy,” she said.

The words didn’t compute in his brain. “Wha—“

She was kissing him before he could even finish the word and Percy didn’t move—couldn’t move—for a moment or two. They were probably a moment or two too long, but he just wasn’t sure this was really happening and that he wasn’t somehow still dreaming. It felt real, but his dreams about Nico and Bianca and his dad and Tyson felt real, too.

His brain screamed at him that it was real just in time to feel Annabeth starting to pull away and his head rebooted quickly before everything finally snapped into place and he kissed her back quickly, the hand Annabeth wasn’t holding coming up to land awkwardly on her waste.

He wasn’t exactly holding her in place—he wasn’t forcing her not to pull away any more—but she still chose to stay, which kind of amazed him, but Percy kicked that thought out of his head as quickly as he could and focused on Annabeth, Annabeth, Annabeth.

It wasn’t perfect—it couldn’t be. This was his first kiss. And he wasn’t sure, but he guessed it was hers, as well. He felt awkward, embarrassed, like he wasn’t sure what to do. His senses were basically going haywire, his blood pulsing through his veins quickly. His heart beat so hard that Percy could imagine the blood passing through it coming out in waves instead of a calm stream.

It wasn’t perfect, but he kind of felt like it was.

And it could have been forever or only a second (probably the latter) before they both pulled away. Her cheeks were a beautiful shade of pink that he was sure he was matching with how much his face was burning. She didn’t let go of his hand, though, and her gray eyes were gleaming happily, only showing a tiny portion of her own awkwardness.

“Oh,” he said stupidly.

She nodded, looking rather content. “Oh,” she agreed.

He probably looked stupid because he could feel the wide grin on his face and he didn’t think anything would be able to erase it completely in the next few hours, at least. Not a hoard of monsters, not Atlas, not even Kronos himself. Amazingly, this didn’t seem to deter Annabeth, even though Percy was certain he looked a little crazy.

“Is this, like, that syndrome where the prisoner falls in love with the imprisoner?” he asked.

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re kidding,” she murmured, but she looked like she was going to laugh rather than drop his hand and push him away, which Percy really appreciated.

“What’s it called?” Percy continued and Annabeth pressed her face to his shoulder and snickered, her voice muffled by his shirt. Percy kind of really liked that. “Oh, you know—that… Beauty and the Beast syndrome.”

“Beauty and the Beast syndrome?” Annabeth echoed. “Oh, my gods, you’re an idiot, Seaweed Brain,” she complained. “You made me like an idiot!”

“Okay, first of all, I didn’t make you do anything, Wise Girl. Except eat and stay in this room, I guess,” he said and she kept on chuckling. “And second of all, you have to tell me what that syndrome is called because I can’t remember and it’s kind of driving me crazy right now because I can’t stop thinking about it.”

She pulled away to look him in the eye and he beamed at her fond expression. “Stockholm syndrome,” she told him. Percy nodded. “And if anything, it’s more like the opposite of that syndrome. Stockholm syndrome means the victim identifies and empathizes with their captor and their goals. I think you’re the one empathizing here, though.”

Percy shrugged. “Eh, it’s close enough.”

A moment later she was close enough to him, like she was before. He probably could kiss her again, but Percy didn’t move and neither did Annabeth. “You haven’t eaten, yet,” he reminded her.

“It can wait.”

“If you collapse because you haven’t touched your food, I want it to be added to the protocol that it wasn’t my fault,” he said. “I worked really hard on this.”

Annabeth glanced at the bed. “On a sandwich?”

He shrugged. “Well, I can’t make pancakes every day.”

She leaned back a little, her eyes softening even more, though Percy wasn’t sure how that was even possible. “I knew you made those,” she said. “Luke was never weird enough to make blue food.”

“Were they good? I let Artemis have one and I’m not really sure what her opinion on them was, but she said she will have more once she’s free. So either they were amazing or they were a catastrophe and she wants to try ones that weren’t made by me.”

Annabeth pressed a chaste kiss to his lips—one he could barely even bask in—and then smirked at him. “They were interesting,” she said sweetly, which only made Percy sure he’d messed them up.

“What was wrong with them?”

“They were blue.”

“Their taste, Annabeth,” he pressed.

She shook her head. “They were too sweet—like you put extra sugar just to make sure no one could miss it,” she confessed. Percy winced. “But it was still really good. Probably a little addicting with all the sugar. I don’t think the nymphs back at camp would approve.”

Percy nudged her cheerfully. “Then don’t tell them when you get back, Wise Girl.”

Her hand squeezed his and there was determination on her face now, like she was planning on fighting someone to prove a point and Percy was a little apprehensive about Annabeth deciding to flip him upside down and pin him to the floor in some kind of painful move.

Of course, she didn’t do it. She just shook her head at him and her smirk morphed into a normal smile. “When we get to camp, we won’t tell them.”

It sounded like a promise.

Percy stayed with Annabeth for hours after that. He only left to get them both something to eat for lunch and then the two of them went right back to chatting and smiling and giggling together about gods know what. It wasn’t anything to do with their situation. They just talked about their lives when they were normal.

Annabeth told him stories about camp and her friends there and things that have happened in the past. She pointed at the different beads on a necklace around her neck and explained to him why they chose each bead for the different summers. Although she did huff a little at the mention of the bead with the centaur that wore a dress, claiming it was a story she would tell him some other time.

He wasn’t certain they would have another time, but Percy still just nodded and let her continue.

In return, Percy told Annabeth about his childhood, the adventures he’d had with his mother. He hasn’t talked about his mom before. Not since she died. It felt too raw and painful to focus on, but Annabeth looked at him with those stormy, gray eyes and he couldn’t help but feel like maybe she was someone he could talk to without fearing some kind of inappropriate comments or harsh judgement.

He told her about the yearly vacations to Montauk, the place where his mother had met his dad. It felt weird to think about this special place while also knowing who his father actually was, but Percy decided it wasn’t a bad feeling and he could live with it.

And Annabeth looked at him during these stories like she could imagine two-year-old Percy squealing and splashing in the water. And four-year-old Percy pointing at the different fish in the water and telling his mom stories about how they were talking to him and they were asking him if he wanted to play, thinking it was probably his imagination. And seven-year-old Percy complaining about school and his stepfather while roasting marshmallows.

When it was becoming too late, Percy had to leave. Because while Percy was tasked with watching Annabeth and preventing her from leaving, Luke would get suspicious if Percy spent so much time with her, right? So he reluctantly bid her a goodnight and then flushed happily when she pecked him on the cheek and shooed him away with the kind of mischievous smirk that made him want to stay just a little while longer.

Stumbling away, Percy found himself smiling to himself as he walked down the corridor. He knew it was stupid—he wasn’t in love with her, after all. He couldn’t be when they’ve only known each other for a few days in which she was supposed to hate him but probably ended up feeling more responsible for him because he was being… well, used by Kronos.

He wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking he could fall in love with anyone in only five days—less, really, because their first meeting consisted of the two of them basically being too exhausted to speak while doing something that Percy felt should have been impossible for either one of them, yet somehow didn’t end up killing them… instantly.

But he did like her. He really, really did. She rolled her eyes at him when they talked about mythology and Percy tried to show Annabeth how much he knew (not much, frankly, which was probably why she was so exasperated with him), and she snorted at his guesses on what the gods might look like (Annabeth knew what they actually looked like, and if Percy’s assumptions made her laugh he figured he was far from the truth).

She probably wasn’t supposed to like him. Percy wasn’t supposed to enjoy spending time with her, either, because he should have only interacted with her briefly to give her food and make sure she wasn’t planning an escape plan. But he was seriously thinking Aphrodite was messing with him at this point. He could see himself just warming up to someone really quickly, but it kind of stunned him that Annabeth was capable of trusting someone so fast, too.

Then again, Chiron knew him. And Grover, too, which made Percy pretty sure Annabeth has heard about him from the satyr, as well. She’d recognized his name when he’d introduced himself to her and the look on her face back then kind of made Percy feel like he was a person she’d mourned at some point only to now find out was still alive.

So maybe she didn’t know him personally all this time, but she knew of him, which meant that she was kind of (a little) familiar with him for longer than five days. He only hoped Grover’s stories were nice and not only of Percy’s dumb moments at Yancy Academy.

“Perseus Jackson,” a familiar voice called.

Percy stopped walking and looked aside. The room with Artemis and the sky was right there and the goddess was staring right at him, eyes intense and kind of frightening now. He gulped—he hasn’t talked to her, yet!

After one swift look around to make sure the coast was clear, Percy rushed toward Artemis and cursed under his breath. He woke up feeling absolutely awful and then one thing led to another and he’d forgotten about his dream. He should have come to Artemis first. He should have talked to her.

She didn’t take her eyes off him as he crossed the room until he was crouching in front of her, wincing in sympathy as he glanced up at the heavy sky. He was pretty sure that the goddess looked even worse, now, and had half a mind to go and make her some more blue pancakes to make her look a little less… worn-out. But the intensity of her gaze rooted him to the spot and he couldn’t move away, even if he wanted to.

“My Hunters,” the goddess said. “Something has happened to them.”

It wasn’t a question. Percy wondered whether she could feel it. Or maybe she could still see things from afar, despite being trapped here.

Nodding faintly, Percy told her shakily about the junkyard of the gods and Talos. He told her that Bianca had taken something and that it made Talos attack them. That he’d suggested a way to defeat him and then foolishly let Bianca do it instead of just going ahead with it on his own like he was planning on doing. He’d only told her about it because he figured he should let someone know so Bianca could inform the others or to get her to distract Talos, after all.

In the end, he was the one to distract the giant and Bianca…

Artemis looked upset. She hung her head at the end of his story and didn’t say a word, which made Percy wish she would just yell at him or something because he didn’t know what to do with a silent goddess that had just lost one of her Hunters. According to Annabeth, Artemis cared deeply about her Hunters, calling them her sisters. And now one of them was dead after barely even getting to be an actual Hunter.

“Zoë, Thalia and Grover made it out alive, then?” Artemis asked eventually. Her voice was measured, controlled. Like if she didn’t pay it enough attention, it might break and reveal too much. Percy sincerely hoped the goddess wouldn’t start crying because he had no idea what to do with crying girls—especially actual goddesses.

“Yes. Zoë was devastated and Thalia was furious, but they were all alive last I saw,” Percy replied quickly. “They’re continuing their quest right now, I’m sure of it.”

She was silent for a few seconds, eyes still locked on the ground. She grunted a little as the ceiling shook and she looked like she was going to stumble and let go of the sky. Percy jumped a little forward in alarm, ready to help, but Artemis adjusted her posture quickly and acted as if nothing even happened. Percy withdrew his hands and took a step back, heart pounding.

Then Artemis stared at him again and her eyes were softer, somehow. Maybe more vulnerable. “My family—the other Olympians—believe that getting close to their demigod children would only bring them pain because of your mortality. You cannot live forever, meaning that when you die, the closer we are to you, the more painful it is,” she said.

Percy blinked at her, confused. “O-okay…?”

“I myself spend time with my Hunters. I get to know them and I guide them. They are my sisters, a part of my family. Losing them is never easy—it is painful, indeed—but I believe caring about them is worth it, in the end,” she told him, like it was very important that Percy understood that. “I believe that after not having a child for so long, your father decided to throw caution to the wind, as well. He has been watching you for as long as he could, boy, which means that when you die he will feel it more than he’d felt the deaths of his previous demigods.”

He wasn’t sure what to think about that. On the one hand, it was nice to think that Poseidon cared that much. On the other hand, though… well, he was all for parents loving their children, but usually parents died before their children, not the other way around. He didn’t really want Poseidon to mourn him or anything.

Grief was such a human emotion that it kind of registered as normal in Percy’s brain, until he reminded himself that Poseidon was a god—not human. And the gods have lived through… a lot. He was sure that they’d all grieved a few times, whether it was over their children or their domains or anything else, he wasn’t sure. But he was sure they must have felt something. And yet… it probably wasn’t the same as the grief humans felt, right?

“Well, I bet Kronos was really bumped when he ate his children,” Percy mumbled, having nothing else to say. The room instantly became darker, colder. Percy winced. Right, names had power. He never did get the hang of that one. He seriously didn’t understand why they couldn’t just talk freely without fearing some kind of monster would show up.

Artemis sighed. “Our grandfather was a little paranoid,” she said. Percy stared at her, still feeling a little weirded out by the mention of Kronos being his grandfather on top of being Artemis’s. It was so strange. “Which is something my father is becoming, as well. I wish to be freed in time to get back to the council and enlighten them.”

“What do you mean?”

She tilted her head to the side as she studied him, as if trying to decide whether or not to tell Percy something. “My father has heard from that brave maiden you keep safe—Annabeth—that Grandfather is slowly coming back. It happened two years ago and yet my father declared the matter closed and refused to believe her. But I know the threat is real and I wish to speak to the council and inform them of the matter so we can vote to act before it is too late.”

Percy scrunched his eyebrows together. “That’s why Atlas has mentioned the winter solstice before?” he asked.

“The Olympians meet on that day, yes. Even Hades comes to Olympus to take part. It’s a tiring meeting, most of the time, where my father and uncles usually just end up arguing between themselves about silly, mundane matters. But it is also a time when the twelve of us are all gathered around together, and it is my opportunity to convince them we are in danger.” She glanced down at her shackles and frowned. For a young-looking girl, she sure looked scary. “My Zoë and the two campers must come here before the twenty-first if we wish to finally act.”

He thought back to Zoë, with stunned tears in her eyes after losing Bianca. He thought about Thalia’s furious scream as she impaled the dead robot out of pure rage. He thought about Grover, urging them to move on and keep on going.

“They’ll make it in time,” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “They’re in shock after losing Bianca and they’re probably having a hard time digesting it—especially Zoë—but it’s only going to motivate them. They wouldn’t want Bianca’s death to be in vain.”

Artemis considered him for a moment before she let a small smile cross her face. “Let us hope you are right, boy,” she said. “Now sleep.”

So he left her to handle the sky and the, he assumed, pain of losing her new sister.

His dream started and… frankly, Percy was kind of confused because everything felt… different. He couldn’t move, but he felt like every motion his body did was still… intentional, in a way. Percy needed only one moment to realize he was dreaming of being somebody else.

He was wearing old-fashioned clothes (it felt extremely awkward, but whoever he was dreaming about didn’t seem to care in the least, like this was very natural). There was lion skin wrapped around his back (gross, by the way) and he was running forward, being pulled by a girl that Percy recognized as Zoë, though he couldn’t fathom why a Hunter of Artemis would be with a guy or why she would hold his hand.

The time period thing didn’t really surprise him, though. Annabeth had mentioned that the Hunters of Artemis were immortal unless they die in battle, like Bianca. So the fact that Zoë lived back when men wore tunics and sandals seriously didn’t shock him too much. He figured she was one of the oldest Hunters, after all, since Artemis spoke of her like she was extremely fond, like they had years and years and years of time spent hunting together.

It was night and millions of starry constellations shined brightly above their heads. Percy and Zoë were running through tall grass and Percy could smell flowers all around him, making the air sweet and intoxicating. He kind of wanted to just stay there and admire the garden they were in, but Zoë dragged him forward like there was a mass murderer with an axe following them.

“Hurry!” Zoë urged Percy. She sounded scared. “He will find us!”

He had no idea who she was talking about, but it seemed that whoever he was in the dream did because he spoke up, anyway. “I’m not afraid,” he said. Percy wanted to argue and point out that he would like to first know what he wasn’t afraid of, but he was incapable of doing so, just like in his dreams of Kronos.

“You should be!” Zoë said and it kind of sounded like she was scolding him for being stupid and reckless. Those things did suit Percy.

He let her lead him up the side of a hill before she pulled him through a thorn bush and they both hid behind it, collapsing to the ground and breathing heavily. “There is no need to run,” Percy said, his voice not really matching up to… his voice. This guy he was dreaming about had a deeper voice. Richer, almost. “I have bested a thousand monsters with my bare hands.”

That sounded like a bit much. And it was kind of disgusting, honestly. Still, Percy could only wonder who this guy was. Was he just bragging to try and get the girl or was he seriously this strong?

Zoë didn’t look convinced, but she wasn’t looking at Percy like she didn’t believe him, either. “Not this one,” she told him. “Ladon is too strong.”

Percy took in the name and winced. Ladon was the dragon guarding the tree of apples further down Mount Tam. Percy snuck down there to try and watch the beast and he kind of regretted doing it because the dragon wasn’t epic or cool—he was smelly and scary and terrifying.

“You must go around, up the mountain to my father,” Zoë continued. “It is the only way.”

Was her father Atlas?! Percy stared at her, feeling like he was seeing her for the first time. He had no idea how to take in this information. Who was she? Why was he dreaming about this? What did any of this have to do with him, other than the fact that he now knew Zoë, as well?

The guy Percy was living through spoke up, and for once he agreed with him. “I don’t trust your father.”

“You should not,” Zoë said with a brief nod. “You will have to trick him. But you cannot take the prize directly. You will die.”

Chuckling as if she didn’t just predict his death, Percy listened as his mouth opened with another retort. “Then why don’t you help me, pretty one?”

Oh, gods no.

“I… I am afraid,” Zoë said hesitantly. Percy stared at her. He didn’t know much about her so far, but seeing her afraid—hearing her admitting that she was scared—was kind of strange. Unexpected. She gave him the impression of some kind of Persian princess, confident and graceful. This didn’t match the image, but kind of made her seem more human. “Ladon will stop me. My sisters, if they found out… they would disown me.”

“Then there’s nothing for it,” Percy said and got up, hands rubbing together as if he was preparing himself to take down Ladon with his bare hands, too. Percy really didn’t want to see this in his dream.

“Wait,” Zoë said. She was quiet for a moment as Percy—this guy, anyway—stared at her with anticipation. She looked like she was trying to come to a decision, a difficult one. And then she took a brooch out of her hair with a shaky hand. “If you must fight, take this. My mother, Pleione, gave it to me. She was a daughter of the ocean, and the ocean’s power is within it. My immortal power.”

Percy stared at the pin she was holding, feeing mostly confused. Who was she? He didn’t remember the myths that well, but he could vaguely remember the name Pleione. She was the daughter of Oceanus and was married to Atlas. She was some kind of nymph or something, if he wasn’t mistaken. And Zoë was her daughter? Gods, this family tree was messed up…

Breathing softly on the brooch, Zoë made it glow softly. Under the stars reflecting in it, it was even more beautiful. “Take it,” she told the guy Percy was impersonating. Wow, he kind of felt like a parasite. “And make of it a weapon.”

The guy laughed in her face and Percy felt pretty bad for Zoë for a moment—this was clearly important to her. “A hairpin?” The words tore out of Percy’s mouth. “How will this slay Ladon, pretty one?”

Ugh, this again.

“It may not,” Zoë confessed. “But it is all I can offer, if you insist on being stubborn.”

Percy’s hand—that looked nothing like his hand and definitely more muscular—reached out and he took the pin from Zoë. To his amazement, it grew, becoming longer and heavier in his hand, until he found himself staring at a familiar sword. This was his sword. He didn’t expect that. He didn’t even know the sword had any history until now. He only knew its name and that Riptide could turn into a pen that he could never lose. He thought it was just something Chiron had around, but apparently… that was not the case.

“Well balanced,” the guy said through Percy and he had to agree with him—the sword was perfect for him. Apparently it wasn’t only perfect for Percy, though. “Though I usually prefer to use my bare hands,” he added and Percy wanted to punch the guy in the face and just thank Zoë for giving him a way of not having to kill those gross monsters with his fists. “What shall I name this blade?”

“Anaklusmos,” Zoë replied, and she sounded sad for some reason. “The current that takes one by surprise. And before you know it, you have been swept out to sea.”

The guy didn’t have the time to reply before a strange sound—a hissing one, like air coming out of a tire—came from nearby. Zoë’s face paled as she told him it was already too late and Percy wondered what was happening exactly, only for his dream to darken and switch.

He yelped in alarm the moment his dream changed because he found himself way up in the air and there was nothing holding him or preventing him from plummeting down. He looked around frantically and noticed the strange sight of Zoë, Thalia and Grover being carried in the air by a pair of bronze statues that chatted between themselves like this was nothing new.

One of them was holding Thalia and Grover. Grover was playing his reed pipes, seemingly just to pass the time. Next to him, Thalia clung to the statue holding her like he would drop her and she would die. She was pale and very obviously scared out of her mind. Percy thought it was a little strange and kind of ironic that the daughter of the lord of the sky feared heights, but he decided not to comment on it.

The second statue was carrying Zoë who looked rather solemn even as she shot arrows at distant billboards that they were passing quickly. Percy wasn’t sure how they all ended up in this kind of situation, but decided not to ask. This was… too weird, honestly.

Looking around, it seemed that Thalia and Grover couldn’t see Percy. Neither could the flying statues. The only pair of eyes landing on him was of Zoë and he kind of felt a sense of déjà vu from simply looking at her face. She didn’t look the same as she did in his last dream and she wasn’t crying over Bianca’s death anymore, but she was still the same person.

It kind of made him nervous that she was the one who could see him now, as he seemingly floated in the air next to her like this was just another casual thing people did.

“You are back,” she noted.

Percy shrugged. “I fell asleep again. I guess I need to do something, help the quest in some way,” he said lamely. The last time he tried to help Bianca had died. He couldn’t imagine Zoë would want his help again. She only trusted him because of Bianca. Would she try to shoot him now? “Are you okay?”

She looked away from his face, pulled another arrow from her quiver, took aim and shot. It hit the middle of a billboard perfectly. “I pushed her into going on the quest,” Zoë said. She didn’t need to say Bianca’s name—it was obvious she was talking about her. “I was too anxious. She was a powerful half-blood. She had a kind heart, as well. I… I thought she would be the next lieutenant.”

He stared at her. “But you’re the lieutenant.”

Her eyes darkened a little and she made her bow disappear as she stared forward, eyes looking almost lost. “Nothing can last forever, boy,” she said, the same way Artemis did. Zoë was colder, though, like she didn’t trust him enough. Like she wasn’t even sure she wanted to speak to him. “Over two thousand years I have led the Hunt, and my wisdom has not improved.” She looked angry at herself. “Now Artemis herself is in danger.”

“Look,” Percy said uncertainly—he didn’t know Zoë. He wasn’t sure it was his place to try and make her feel better, but he was there and she was the only one seeing and talking to him right now, anyway. He had nothing to lose, right? “You can’t blame yourself for that.”

“If I had insisted on going with her—“

“On this hunt for the monster that would take down the gods?” Percy asked, cutting her off. Zoë narrowed her eyes at him but nodded all the same. “You think you could’ve fought someone powerful enough to kidnap Artemis?” he asked her. “There’s nothing you could have done,” he said when she didn’t answer. “And I’m sure you’re capable and strong enough, but I’ve seen Atlas—your father, right?—and he’s still too powerful for you to take on.”

She looked at him again. “Who told thee?” she demanded.

Percy shrugged. “I, uh, had a dream about it.” Zoë didn’t look particularly pleased to hear that, but she only sighed and looked away again. Percy pulled out the pen from his pocket—Riptide that followed him into these dreams, too. “You made this,” he noted.

Her eyes briefly glanced at the pen and she seemed to recognize it even now as the sword he’d used during the fight against Talos. A shudder went down her back and her eyes became a little cloudy. “Was that in thy dream, as well?”

“Yeah.”

Zoë looked at Riptide again. “It was a gift,” she confirmed. “And a mistake.”

“Who was the hero?” Percy asked, hoping she would actually answer him.

“Do not make me say his name,” she told him and her voice was remarkably vulnerable, like she was baring her heart before him, for some reason. Percy could see the hurt in her eyes and wondered what made her go from caring about that guy so much to not even being able to say his name. “I swore never to speak it again.”

He tipped his head to the side. “You act like I should know him.”

She raised an eyebrow at him like he really should know who she was talking about. Who his dream was about. “I am sure you do, hero,” she said and from her, the word sounded almost mocking. Like she saw him as anything but a hero. “Don’t all boys want to be just like him?”

Percy decided not to push. “Apollo talked to me in another dream,” he said, recalling the conversation. “He told me you should find Nereus to find out what the monster Artemis was after actually was.”

Zoë wrinkled her nose in distaste. “Excellent. Just what we need right now…”

“What do you mean?”

“Do not worry about it.” She waved at him dismissively. “We will find him. Don’t pay it any mind.”

He kind of wanted to press her until she told him how she knew Nereus—whoever this guy was—and maybe ask her why she reacted to his name the way that she did. But he decided there was no reason to annoy her right now. “Your mother was a water goddess?” he asked instead.

Relief washed over Zoë’s face—just a little bit of it—at the change of subject. “Yes, Pleione,” she said. “She had five daughters. My sisters and I.”

“The Hesperides,” Percy remembered. “The ones who live in the garden with the golden apple tree and the dragon guarding it,” he said. “I didn’t know there were five sisters, though. I’ve heard of only four.”

“There are now,” Zoë said. “I was exiled. Forgotten. Blotted out as if I never existed.”

“Why?”

She pursed her lips. “Because I betrayed my family and helped a hero,” she said bitterly. She gestured toward Percy’s pen and his heart dropped a little at the realization that whoever it was must have had some kind of story of his adventures and yet Zoë was still somehow forgotten. “You won’t find that in the legend either,” Zoë confirmed his suspicions. “He never spoke of me. After his direct assault on Ladon failed, I gave him the idea of how to steal the apples, how to trick my father, but he took all the credit.”

Percy shoved his pen into his pocket and glared ahead. This hero… Zoë said boys wanted to be like him, but he couldn’t see why anyone would want to be like someone who acted like a jerk.

“I’m sorry,” he said, hoping Zoë understood he was being completely genuine. “I guess I get why you chose to be a Hunter, then.”

Zoë didn’t say anything for a few moments before she glanced at him again, her eyes somewhat softer. Like he was no longer solely fit to be stuck to the bottom of her shoe. “Is Artemis alright?” she asked.

“As alright as she can be, I guess,” Percy said. “I told her about Bianca.”

“Bianca trusted thee,” Zoë said, like it was something she wasn’t sure how to digest.

Percy snorted. “Yeah, after she made me swear on the River Styx, like, three times.”

“Nonetheless, I shall try and trust thee, as well,” Zoë said, voice stern, like she wasn’t going to let Percy argue with her on that. As if he would even try. “I do not know why you are being sent here, but I pray the gods are not tricking us, that this is not a trap.”

“Thanks,” Percy said. His vision was turning fuzzy and he straightened up a bit. “Oh, my time’s up, I guess. Look, I don’t know what more you guys are going to have to face on your way to us, but I told Artemis you’ll make it in time, so maybe… don’t get here too late?”

Her eyes shined with determination. “We will free Artemis,” she said confidently, as if she was stating a fact.

“And Annabeth,” Percy reminded her.

“And the girl, too,” Zoë agreed. “Leave now, Percy Jackson. Keep my lady safe until we arrive tomorrow.”

He was surprised to hear her say his name—he wasn’t even sure she’d paid it any mind during his brief introduction in his last dream. But before he could comment on that, Zoë already pulled her bow again, aiming at another billboard like nothing has changed and Percy blinked and found himself in a different place.

It was a Camp Half-Blood again, only this time there was no Nico around to explain Percy’s presence there. The strawberries grew next to Percy, leaves rustling in the wind, and Percy glanced around in confusion, unsure as to what he was supposed to do next or whether this dream was going to show him something important if he just waited long enough.

And then he saw it—an owl circling over his head. It was brown but seemed to be very clean and dignified. Something about the owl drew Percy’s attention, like it was a magnificent creature that deserved his full attention. Its feathers were neat and almost seemed to gleam in the light of the moon overhead. It wasn’t incredibly big, but Percy still noticed its talons and he knew it would be able to protect itself, alright.

The owl kept on flying for a moment or two, hooting once or twice, and then it plummeted down and came to a stop right in front of Percy. This close up, Percy could see the color of its eyes were a familiar shade of gray. He thought about Annabeth’s eyes and how incredibly similar the owl’s were, only these ones were even colder, more calculating than really just… seeing.

Percy got the ridiculous impression that this owl was thinking of ways to take him down in a fight. The thought nearly made him laugh, but then Percy realized he couldn’t talk or move too much—the same as he felt in Kronos’s dreams and in that memory of Zoë and the jerk of a hero she was with.

The owl opened its beak, as if to hoot again, only this time a female voice came out. It was sharp and rich but very precise, like each syllable was calculated. Like this owl was working hard to make things happen exactly the right way.

“There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it,” the owl said and the dream ended at once as Percy woke up in his bed, ocean breeze still around him, making him feel just a little less alone.

It was still nighttime when Percy woke up. He walked up and down the corridor, feeling strangely trapped now, the energy in his body buzzing and making him unable to fall back asleep. The ADHD definitely didn’t help. He considered training for a while, but the thought of drawing out Anaklusmos now made him almost dizzy.

Feeling like he just had to get out of there, Percy made his way toward the room where Artemis was before he hesitated outside Annabeth’s one. She was asleep, he knew. Nobody was awake at this time. Nobody should be awake at this time. Still, he hesitantly rapped his knuckles against the door, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the shadows were the only company he had.

There was no reply, of course.

He thought about the next day—Zoë, Thalia and Grover would have to show up soon. Tomorrow or maybe the day after, even though that would be the winter solstice, already. Which meant Annabeth would need to rest as much as possible to make sure she could fight out of there with the others. He couldn’t disturb her sleep now of all times.

“Percy?” A whisper caught his attention.

He straightened up a little, startled, and then stared at the closed, locked door. That was Annabeth! She was awake, anyway. He wondered why—maybe she had a nightmare, too—but then just reached out, grabbed the key to the room and unlocked it.

She was standing there, looking like she just got out of bed. Her hair was a mess and her clothes were crinkled after five days of being worn all the time. She didn’t get to have a shower—and Percy only had the permission to have one twice a week because Luke wanted to keep him away from water. She should have probably looked rather pathetic or simply outputting, but Percy couldn’t help but smile at her a little.

“It’s still night, isn’t it?” Annabeth asked.

“It is,” he confirmed. He glanced over his shoulder again and then turned to Annabeth. “I’m going outside,” he said. She tilted her head to the side, looking confused as to why he was talking to her if that was his plan. “Come with me.”

This seemed to amuse her for a second, like she thought Percy was messing with her. Then, when she realized he wasn’t joking, she tucked the gray strands behind her ear and shook her head a little, looking stunned and a little disbelieving. He couldn’t blame her—this was probably the strangest hostage situation in history.

“What are you talking about?” she said. “I can’t come with you—I’m supposed to be locked in here, remember? Did you hit your head, Seaweed Brain?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “No, I know that,” he told her. “I just don’t care. Luke knows I’m irresponsible and that I tend to walk all over his rules and the restrictions I’m given,” he said.

She rolled her eyes. “You don’t say.”

“He probably shouldn’t have let me watch you, then,” he finished with a shrug. Then he offered her his hand, smiling at her in what must have been a goofy way but he didn’t really care when her eyes twinkled with mirth. “Do you want to come?”

Annabeth put her hand in his and a moment later Percy locked the door behind them—so that nobody would get suspicious if they woke up in the middle of the night, too—and then led her over to the entrance. Artemis looked almost faint but still aware. Her eyes snapped up to look at the two, bright in the dark cave.

Percy waved at her sheepishly and Annabeth bit her lip, as if to prevent herself from jumping forward to offer her assistance to the goddess. Artemis, on her part, didn’t look particularly upset at the fact that Percy was enabling Annabeth to go outside for a change while she was still trapped under the sky. Instead, her eyes locked onto his and he could almost feel her approval hitting him in the face.

“Do not linger too much,” Artemis warned them. “You’ll have to get back inside without being seen before anyone wakes up.”

“We will, Lady Artemis,” Annabeth promised.

Percy nodded in agreement and then quickly ushered Annabeth outside, to the edge of the mountain where they could sit down, under the moon and the stars. Percy inhaled deeply and finally let his body relax a little. He still felt the weight of the pen in his pocket and the uneasiness he’s been feeling since his realization that Zoë was coming over here to confront her own father.

To his relief, Annabeth didn’t hesitate to sit down next to him. She didn’t bother trying to get away or running down the mountain to escape. She didn’t try to reach for the weapon in his pocket or the dagger he’s been carrying since the previous day. Instead, she sat down next to him, their shoulders brushing, and stared at the view spread before them like she wanted to memorize it.

It made sense, he figured. Being locked up probably drove her insane. Percy knew that he would have gone mad had he been held prisoner by anyone and put in an enclosed space. He got restless very quickly and had to move or do something—anything—if he didn’t want to lose it completely. He was kind of admiring Annabeth for her ability to not show just how desperate she was to get outside again.

But he could see it on her face, now. How happy she was that she could feel the breeze around them or enjoy the sight of the stars glinting above their heads. In the distance, Percy could see the sea—dark, like a murky shadow that spread to the horizon. It made him feel better to see it there. It reminded him that now the ocean wasn’t only there, but his father was, too.

“Where did you find it?” Annabeth asked, her voice soft, as if she didn’t want to disturb the silence too much.

Percy glanced down to see what she was looking at and found himself staring at that dagger again. He pulled it out and watched as the moonlight glinted on the shiny metal. “I found it in the training room here.”

“And you just decided to pick it up?”

He shrugged. “I don’t really use knives. It’s not my thing,” he said. “I don’t know. It just… it was…” He tried to find the right words to describe that feeling that urged him to pick up the dagger and carry it with him, like a strange impulse. “It felt… out of place.”

Annabeth hummed. “It was out of place,” she said. “That’s mine.”

Percy’s eyes widened and he turned to look at Annabeth. “Wait, really?”

“Thorn took it from me when he brought me here. Of course, they wouldn’t want an armed prisoner,” she explained, sounding a little annoyed. Percy squirmed uncomfortably but she didn’t move away from him. “I thought I would have to look for it later or just give up and find another weapon back at camp.”

He glanced at the knife again and then smiled. “Well, good news is that you’re going to get your weapon back, then,” he said cheerfully.

She smiled at him for a moment and then her eyes fell back on the dagger and they dimmed. “Luke gave it to me,” she said quietly. “When Thalia and he found me and took me in so we could run together, he gave me the knife. He promised me we’d be like family to each other. I’ve been using it since then.”

Percy kind of wanted to toss the dagger over the edge of the mountain, but instead he put it away again, suppressing a grimace. “I’m sorry,” he said, hoping the words didn’t sound as hollow as they felt. He was sincere, but those words kind of felt… overused, at this point.

He was sorry for so many thing at this point, he couldn’t even tell which one he was apologizing for this time. For Annabeth’s family sucking? For Luke making her carry the sky on her shoulders? For keeping her locked up for five whole days? For failing to save Bianca—a girl Annabeth had been caught trying to save? For being on the wrong side of this war for two years without even realizing it? For Luke’s betrayal?

He wasn’t sure.

Annabeth, on her part, just grabbed his hand and squeezed it before intertwining their fingers together. She had a small smile on her face again as she stared up at the stars. “It’s okay. Well, no, it’s not okay, but… I’m working on it.”

They were quiet for a few minutes after that. Percy wasn’t sure how long it’s been. He could hear Artemis grunting behind him, which kind of set him on edge every time, thinking about how messed up this all was and how he wished he could just shove Atlas back under the sky so that Artemis could escape and make it back to Olympus in time.

He thought about Grover, Thalia and Zoë who were currently on their way there, being carried by flying angel statues. Thalia was probably still clinging to the statue for dear life, possibly not getting any sleep even though she would need it. Grover was either knocked out cold or still playing his pipes. Zoë… was she thinking about her conversation with Percy? Was she upset with his invasive questions? Glad she had someone to talk to?

“Which hero had a lion skin draped on his back like a cape?” he asked.

Annabeth blinked a few times, clearly pulling herself out of her own head to focus on Percy’s question. He felt kind of bad for dropping this on her when she was trying to relax, but he just had to know.

For a moment the girl just stared at him questioningly. “I know that Hercules is always portrayed with the skin of the Nemean lion,” she said. “He was the one who’d killed it. Choked it to death with his bare hands, if I remember correctly.”

“With his bare hands,” Percy repeated hollowly. “You don’t say.”

When she asked him what was wrong, Percy repeated his conversation with Zoë and told Annabeth about the first dream, the one about Hercules (apparently) and Zoë as they made their way through the Garden of the Hesperides. He was vaguely aware of his free hand pulling out Riptide just so he could stare at it and contemplate what to do or feel about using it.

Anaklusmos was a gift from Zoë to someone she’d clearly trusted. Someone who’d ended up turning his back on her once she was of no use to him. Frankly, Percy wished he could go back to that dream as himself, punch Hercules in the face and tell Zoë not to trust or help him. She didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to get disowned and exiled by her family only for the man she loved to turn his back on her, as well.

Of course, trying to punch Hercules in the face with all the stories about the guy was kind of suicidal, Percy knew, so it would have been a one-way trip, anyway. But he would have died happy knowing he’d done something good, right?

Annabeth stared at the pen intently, eyes narrowed slightly. “I’ve never known this sword was that old,” she said. “I never really thought about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Chiron’s had it for years now. Around fourteen, I’d say,” she said, giving Percy a meaningful look. “He told me that Poseidon had given it to him and told him to keep it until someone special arrived at camp. I guess your father hoped Chiron would recognize whose son you are immediately.”

Percy looked back down at Riptide, hand tightening on the pen that looked so unassuming now. “Zoë wouldn’t have wanted me to use it, though,” he said heavily. “She doesn’t strike me as the kind to like male heroes—and now I get why, too—so me using it… it kind of feels wrong.”

“Your father wanted you to have it, though,” Annabeth reminded him.

“And Zoë was the one who’d given it, first. It should be hers, not mine. She should be able to decide who would use it and who wouldn’t,” he rolled the pen between his fingers. It was so familiar and reassuring, but now he couldn’t help but feel like maybe he shouldn’t know the feeling at all. “I think I’ll let her decide when she gets here.”

He expected Annabeth to argue with him on that, but she only sighed and dropped her head on his shoulder. It probably would have felt more comfortable had he actually been taller than her, but apparently it didn’t matter to Annabeth because she didn’t bother moving from her new position. Percy, smiling to himself now, leaned his head on top of hers and just pocketed Riptide and turned to focus on the sea in the distance.

“They’re going to have to get here tomorrow,” Annabeth said after what felt like forever. “Or, well, today, I guess.”

Percy hummed. “Why?”

She nudged him, as if that would make his mind work any better. In actuality, it only made him chuckle a little. “The garden—you can only enter it at sunset, Percy,” she said. “Which means they have to do it the next time the sun sets or they’ll miss the deadline to free Artemis. Kronos’s plan will work, then.”

He stopped chuckling and instead groaned. “So tomorrow’s going to be an eventful day and here we are, awake in the middle of the night instead of getting a good night’s sleep,” he said in a monotone voice that made Annabeth snort a little. “Great. This is going to be fun.”

“It’s going to be okay,” Annabeth said.

Percy turned his head a little and found Annabeth’s eyes glancing at him already. Gray… gray like the eyes of the owl from the last dream he had, only warmer, more caring, with more emotions. He shuddered as he remembered the owl. He remembered which goddess was associated with owls. He remembered who Annabeth’s mom was, too.

“I think I dreamed about your mom,” he blurted out.

Annabeth lifted her head off his shoulder and stared at him. “What?”

He shifted a little uncomfortably and looked around, feeling like the gods were watching them, somehow, whether the two of them could see them or not. “I had this other dream, right before I woke up. I saw an owl back at camp and it… it told me, ‘there’s always a way out for those clever enough to find it’, I think. It sounded like a woman. And you have the same eyes, too.”

“Are you comparing me to an owl?” she teased, but she sounded like she was already trying to understand what it meant.

“No. I’m comparing you to your mom. Athena, right?” He didn’t wait for her reply. Instead, he squeezed her hand a little and kept on talking. “I think she’s worried about you. She wants you to get out of here. Maybe she helped the others on their quest, I don’t know.”

The girl hummed a little and then put her head back down, only this time it landed in Percy’s lap. He stared down at her, stunned, but her eyes were closed and he could tell she was getting tired and that she was on the verge of falling asleep. He probably should have taken her back inside so they wouldn’t get caught, but instead he just brought his hand up and started playing with her hair absentmindedly.

He wasn’t tired, anyway.

Chapter Text

Artemis ended up waking them both up when the horizon was beginning to turn a lighter shade of blue. She called out for Percy a few times before he managed to blink the sleep away and then he spluttered a little when he realized they were still outside, capable of being seen by just about anyone passing by.

Shaking Annabeth until she woke up, too, Percy scrambled to his feet and then helped her get up, as well, before he quickly ran past Artemis (throwing her a thank-you over his shoulder) with Annabeth following behind, her hand held in his as he looked around to make sure the coast was clear.

They didn’t run into anyone—thank the gods—and Percy mumbled a hasty apology to Annabeth as he locked her in her room again before sprinting to his room so nothing would look out of the ordinary. He was usually one of the last ones to get up, after all. He was pretty sure seeing him wide awake would have alerted just about everyone.

So he entered his room, closed the door behind him and then heaved a sigh of relief as he dumped himself onto his bed, limbs going limp. He stared up at the ceiling and let in the scent of the ocean that filled his lungs pleasantly.

This was the last day, he realized. If Grover, Thalia and Zoë didn’t make it in time…

He turned on his side and closed his eyes. “Don’t think about it,” he scolded himself.

When Atlas showed up that morning, Percy could tell it put Luke on edge. Not necessarily because of how mighty Atlas seemed to be—big and strong and definitely powerful—but because it meant that the quest was nearly done. Zoë, Thalia and Grover were going to get there and they knew it. So they were getting ready.

Luke sent the monsters left on the mountain to the Princess Andromeda that was anchored at sea nearby and then entered the training room and attacked the dummies there like he was preparing to kill everyone that would come near him. His sword, Backbiter—one that always put Percy on edge despite the fact that he knew Luke and he were (supposedly) on the same side—slashed through dummy after dummy like they were nothing.

He looked scary when he fought like that, Percy thought.

When Luke finally took a brief break to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his eyes landed on Percy and instead of gutting him out like he did to the dummies, Luke offered him a smile—a grim one, but still a smile.

“Hey, Percy,” he said. “Came to train?”

Percy very much didn’t want to train right now. He didn’t want to hold his sword, didn’t want to slash the practice dummies. Didn’t want to stay in the same room as Luke when he was moving like something was possessing him. It was truly the last thing he wanted to do.

Spending time with Annabeth was a lot more enticing, but he didn’t dare stay there for long now that Atlas was around. He wasn’t sure the Titan wouldn’t feel it, Percy’s friendship with her. Maybe Percy didn’t know how his powers worked exactly, but he wasn’t going to risk it now—not when they were this close to getting Artemis and Annabeth out of this prison.

“Sure,” Percy lied through his teeth and stepped into the room, pulling Riptide out as he did so. The sword was balanced perfectly in his hand as he uncapped it. He stared at the blade for a moment—at the Greek letters that spelled out the name Zoë had chosen—and swallowed down his guilt as he turned to Luke. “Are you okay?”

Luke swatted his hair out of his eyes and prepared to attack another dummy. “We’re going to have company today,” he told Percy, like he didn’t know that already. “They’re coming for Artemis and Annabeth.”

“Oh,” was all Percy said as he slashed half-heartedly at a dummy. “Do you know who?”

“Artemis’s lieutenant is one of them,” Luke said as he trashed another practice dummy. Percy stared at the ruins and grimaced at the vision of a real person suffering through the same fate. He quickly shook the image out of his mind, though. “And there’s a satyr, I think…” He trailed off.

Percy stabbed the dummy in the chest once and then looked over at Luke again. “Anyone else?” he asked innocently.

Luke decapitated his next dummy, his face contorting in anger now. He panted a little before his target and then turned to Percy with a serious expression. “One of them is a daughter of Zeus, Percy,” he said. “Her name is Thalia and… I’m going to try to make her see reason. I’ll try to convince her to help us, but… if I fail, don’t engage, okay? I’m going to fight her.”

“You think she’ll help us instead?”

There was an odd expression on Luke’s face. Percy thought he saw hopefulness and desperation somewhere in there, too. “I hope so. We, uh, used to be friends. We were really close when we were younger. And then…” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t seen her in a while, but when we used to hang out together we used to think the same. We both knew the gods weren’t good. We agreed on that. I hope she still feels the same way.” Luke gave him a strange look he couldn’t decipher. “Besides, you should hope Thalia joins us.”

Percy frowned, not understanding why he should hope for such a thing as much as Luke’s tone of voice seemed to insinuate, but didn’t say anything on that.

“So I’ll be leaving her to you,” he shrugged and looked back at his dummy so that Luke wouldn’t be able to look into his eyes and see just how uncomfortable he was with the thought of Thalia switching sides. Especially with that prophecy Annabeth had mentioned and with her being this close to sixteen. “What do you want me to do, then?”

Luke picked up the head of the decapitated dummy and examined it like he was trying to imagine a face there. “Annabeth—they’ll need to see that she’s here and that she’s okay,” Luke said. “You’ll need to tie her hands and legs and gag her because she’s smart enough to get out of it or help them out somehow if you allow her to move or speak. Bring her there around sunset.”

Just the image of Annabeth being tied and gagged made Percy want to throw up, but he forced himself to keep his expression neutral. “Sure,” he said.

Apparently Luke was done, because he put down the head and moved toward the exit. As he passed past Percy, he patted him on the back like he did after every victory of Percy during their practice duels. It used to make Percy feel better, but now his eyes were trained on the head of the dummy and he felt like he was holding himself back from freezing under Luke’s touch.

“Good man, Percy,” he commented.

Percy could tell that the older boy meant it—he saw Percy as a friend. It kind of sucked that to be on the side that Percy felt was better, he would have to turn on Luke, but what other choice did he have? Besides, Annabeth had told him that Luke was the one to betray her. It kind of made Percy upset with the guy.

“Oh, by the way, that Pegasus came back, Percy. You should get him out of here before everything goes down,” Luke added.

Then Luke left and Percy capped Riptide and put it away, feeling a little sick.

“Blackjack, what are you doing here?”

A black Pegasus waited outside the cave, his eyes glancing over and over in Artemis’s direction like he just couldn’t help himself. He used to live on the ship with the monsters, but when Percy passed him once by chance, the Pegasus’s voice crept into his head like the fish’s did and he begged Percy to get him out of there.

Percy still remembered the look on Luke’s face when Percy told him that they needed to get Blackjack off the Princess Andromeda and away from the monsters because Percy could understand him and he was upset and terrified. The guy looked like he was on the verge of hitting Percy over the head to try and make him forget about the talking horse.

Back then Percy didn’t think about it too hard, unsure as to why that was. But now he could see that Luke was just worried it would clue Percy in on who his father was. Like putting Percy on a cruise ship at sea wasn’t a big enough clue as it was (it really did tend to baffle Percy whenever he just knew where they were or what time it was).

Anyway, Blackjack was set free, but he also kind of decided that he owed Percy, so he flew away but always flew right back, found Percy, demanded sugar cubes and apples and donuts and then flew away again after making sure Percy was alright, as if he was worried about him. For the first time Percy wondered where Blackjack was when he wasn’t with Percy.

Yo, boss! Blackjack’s voice slipped into Percy’s mind like it always did and Percy arched an eyebrow at him. Is that a goddess? I think that’s a goddess, he whispered, like it was some kind of secret.

“Yeah, that’s Artemis,” Percy said flippantly. Blackjack let out a neigh, like he was shocked. Then he shifted a little, legs hitting the ground anxiously. “Are you okay?”

She’s the one that hunts, right? he asked. I should leave—

“What? No,” Percy stood in his way, like that would prevent the Pegasus from flying away. “Blackjack, she won’t hurt you, alright? She’s really nice,” he said, glancing at the goddess over his shoulder. She was staring at Blackjack and Percy with slightly dim eyes, but there was a smile on her face, like she could hear Percy from this distance. “Anyway, why did you come here, Blackjack? Did something happen?”

Blackjack kept on eyeing Artemis like he was afraid she would leave the burden of the sky and instead choose to hunt him down, but then he focused on Percy again. Heard some things. Rumors flying around, he said. Thought ya might be in need of assistance, boss.

Percy stared at him. He had no idea what kind of rumors were going around, but he was suddenly extremely glad that Blackjack was there.

Lowering his voice, Percy stepped closer to Blackjack, just in case someone was nearby that Percy wasn’t seeing. “Well, this is great because I might need your help, but only later. Me and a few, uh, acquaintances are going to get out of here and we might have to do it, like, really, really fast.”

Blackjack bobbed his head. Gotcha. Running away, huh? So unlike you, boss.

“I can tell you’re mocking me,” Percy said.

Me? No, I would never.

He gave the Pegasus a look and then shook his head and tried to focus again. “Blackjack, just be close, okay? I’ll call you if we need a lift.”

How many are we talking about here?

Percy pursed his lips thoughtfully and then shrugged. “Maybe try to bring two friends with you, if you can,” he said and sent a look at Artemis again. She was nodding at him slightly before shifting her stance to seemingly get more comfortable.

Blackjack spread his wings. Got you. On it, boss, he said and flapped his wings before his hooves lifted off the ground as he started flying away. I’ll get Guido and Porkpie, I think. It’s been a while since those two got the chance to get a real exercise.

“Don’t be suspicious, though!” Percy called after him. He wasn’t sure Blackjack heard him, but he figured… Pegasi were probably not going to arise much suspicion, right? It was going to be alright. He hoped.

“Do not fret, Perseus Jackson,” Artemis said. Her voice was weaker than it was the night before. Or the days before that. Percy cast her a worried look that she was clearly pretending not to notice. “I believe it will be solved, in time. At least, I pray that it will.”

He wrinkled his nose in confusion. “Can gods even pray?” he asked.

She let out a sound that Percy was shocked to decipher as laughter. He wasn’t sure he wasn’t hallucinating at this point. She didn’t answer his question, though, and Percy decided to just roll with it and leave her alone. She didn’t need him to distract her when she looked like she was actually on the verge of collapsing despite being a goddess.

“I’m sorry,” Percy mumbled. He kind of hated himself as he tied Annabeth’s hands and legs as loosely as he could without anyone suspecting a thing. He couldn’t even show that he was hating doing this because they were both standing in the same room as Artemis, where Luke and Atlas were, as well, waiting for someone to arrive.

Annabeth stared back at him with a blank expression that honestly cut deeper than anything she could have said. He knew it wasn’t real—knew she had to act like she resented him in front of their audience—but it really hurt to look at her and see such a cold look aimed his way.

Except for her eyes, he guessed. Had they been as cold as the rest of her demeanor, she would have reminded him of that owl from his dream, of her mother. But they weren’t emotionless or distant. They were soft, like they usually were when they spent time together, like she wanted him to know that she didn’t mind despite the expression on her face that gave the message that she wanted to stab him on the spot.

“They’re coming,” Atlas said lowly. He threw Percy a look. “Gag her. Now.”

Percy obeyed reluctantly. Once he was done, he helped Annabeth turn around to face the entrance and took his place behind her, ready to help her undo her ties in a moment’s notice. Plus, he really didn’t want to look at her face right now. Especially not when he could see her glaring at Luke silently. This time her eyes did become cold. She looked hurt and frustrated and resentful.

His back itched a little as he felt the cold aura coming off the sarcophagus—something that even without his knowledge of Camp Half-Blood always made Percy want to throw it down to Tartarus forever. He hated the thing that seemed to chill a room by simply being there. Which was why he usually stayed away from it, but now Luke ordered six dracaena to hold it nearby so that Kronos could be near.

“My lady!” A cry drew Percy attention to the entrance where he found Thalia and Zoë—no trace of Grover.

In a moment, Luke drew out Backbiter and held the sword to Annabeth’s throat. She leaned back, her hands squirming a little in the weak ties until Percy put a hand on her arm. It probably looked like he was holding her in place, but he just wanted to somehow make her relax, remind her that she wasn’t standing there alone. Luke wouldn’t hurt her—Percy had to believe that.

Zoë and Thalia haven’t noticed them yet, though. Their eyes were locked on the crouching, sweating and struggling Artemis. Zoë ran toward her frantically, like there was a rope pulling her forward, refusing to give way or to allow her to stay away any longer.

“Stop!” Artemis ordered, voice strained. “It is—“ She cut herself off and her eyes flashed in Percy’s direction for a brief moment. Then she gulped, swallowing back her words, likes she decided they were unnecessary anymore.

Not listening to the goddess, Zoë kept on advancing. She was crying as she reached Artemis and tugged at her chains, the ones that tied her legs to the floor so she couldn’t escape. It did nothing, of course, and Percy had to hide his wince of sympathy.

“Ah,” Atlas’s booming voice cut in, drawing the attention of both girls. “How touching.”

For a second they both observed the scene before them, taking it all in. The Titan in the silk suit standing there, the six dracaena that carried the sarcophagus, Luke’s sword pointing at Annabeth’s throat as she still leaned back, into Percy. Then Thalia’s electric blue eyes locked on his and he could see the swirling emotions there, as she tried to figure out whether she really could trust him or not.

Zoë stared at Atlas for a long moment before she moved on to the others. Her eyes were less suspicious than Thalia’s as she regarded him and he felt strangely vulnerable now that he was no longer dreaming about being around these two—they could really hurt him if they wished to, now. His body was fully here, not only his consciousness.

Finally, Thalia drew her eyes away from Percy and onto Luke. They were fiery. “Luke,” she snarled. “Let her go.”

“That is the General’s decision, Thalia,” Luke said, and there was a note of vulnerability in his voice that let Percy know just how much he really cared about Thalia despite the anger etched to her face as she glared at him. “But it’s good to see you again.”

She spat at him, which didn’t really surprise Percy—if they were really as close as Annabeth and Luke had made them out to be, then Luke joining a different side in this conflict must have hurt Thalia who woke up from being a tree to find out Luke was her enemy now. That had to suck.

Atlas chuckled. “So much for old friends. And you, Zoë,” he turned to his daughter who looked back at him with a complicated expression on her face that Percy decided not to even try to look into. Next to her, Artemis glared at the Titan hatefully. “It’s been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you,” he said.

There was genuine delight in his voice that sickened Percy. Annabeth let out some kind of growl from the back of her throat that sounded muffled and distorted with her gag, but he figured she was just as repulsed by this as he was.

“Do not respond,” Artemis spat out. Her eyes were glued to Atlas even as she trembled from the sky, but she was clearly talking to Zoë. “Do not challenge him.”

Zoë opened her mouth like she wanted to protest and then flinched. Percy thought she just didn’t want to disobey an order from Artemis, but then he noticed she was in pain. He searched her body quickly and when his eyes fell on a gash at her side, they widened in horror.

She was hurt. She was injured. And instead of having three against two (even if one of the two was a Titan), they had one, an injured second and no third. He wasn’t even sure where Grover was—he could only hope his satyr friend was still alive and only lagging behind for some reason.

“Let Artemis go,” Zoë said, voice commanding despite being faced with her father, the Titan of power, if Percy wasn’t mistaken. Or was it endurance? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Walking closer to Artemis and, by extension, Zoë, Atlas didn’t look like he was bothered by his daughter’s words. “Perhaps you’d like to take the sky for her, then? Be my guest,” he said, gesturing toward the sky only barely being held away from the ground.

“No!” the goddess cut in before Zoë could say anything. “Do not offer, Zoë! I forbid you.” Then she bit in Atlas’s direction when the Titan tried to touch her cheek.

He chuckled. “You see, daughter?” he said. “Lady Artemis likes her new job. I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the center of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility.” Then he turned to face Thalia, squinting at her, looking rather pleased and demeaning. “So these are the best heroes of the age, eh?” he asked, eyes flitting over to Percy for a moment, too. “Not much of a challenge.”

Anger filled Percy for a moment before he looked around and swallowed it quickly. He was standing on the wrong side of this exchange, this confrontation. While Atlas was mocking heroes in general, he was mainly speaking about Thalia right now because she was also opposing him.

Thalia bit the inside of her cheek, probably to stop herself from hurtling an insult at him or something like that. This definitely seemed to please Atlas.

“Daughter of Zues,” Atlas rumbled. “It seems Luke was wrong about you,” he said.

“I wasn’t wrong,” Luke protested. He sounded like this entire thing pained him. He looked at Thalia, emotions blazing in his eyes. “Thalia, you still can join us,” he told her. “Call the Ophiotaurus. It will come to you. Look!”

He waved his hand and suddenly there was a pool of water next to them. A pond ringed in black marble. Percy tilted his head to the side when Thalia turned to look at the pool, nose scrunched up like she was unsure.

“What’s the Ophiotaurus?” Percy asked. He probably shouldn’t have done that, but he couldn’t help it—he was curious.

Atlas snarled at him. “Be quiet, child. This does not concern you,” he said.

Percy looked at Luke next, but the guy was busy urging Thalia with his eyes, desperate for her to help them. He wanted to ask Annabeth what they were talking about, but she couldn’t really speak right now. Zoë’s lips were pursed as she looked from the pond to Thalia, her eyes warning the other girl not to listen to Luke.

And then Percy noticed Artemis staring right at him. Her eyes flashed and an image sprang into his mind—of a cute, innocent cow with a serpent’s tail underwater. One that Percy couldn’t understand and one that he’d helped what felt like a lifetime ago. That was the Ophiotaurus? What was he? Toxic or something?

“Thalia,” Luke said. “Call the Ophiotaurus and you will be more powerful than the gods.”

Percy stared at the pool. He could certainly imagine Bessie there, swimming happily. And then he wasn’t quite sure it was really his imagination because he was pretty sure Bessie the Ophiotaurus was turning more and more solid, like… like Percy was summoning him there just by thinking about it.

A muffled protest from Annabeth drew his attention. She was staring at him with widened eyes. Even without words, the message was clear—he had to stop. Apparently he really was summoning the Ophiotaurus. And the creature getting there would be pretty bad, he knew, if Bessie could somehow turn someone more powerful than a god…

Skateboards, Percy thought. Basketball players, his mom’s candy from back when she was healthy, kissing Annabeth what must have been dozens of time. He thought about anything he could conjure up that had nothing to do with Bessie. Annabeth staring at him with her beautiful gray eyes was pretty helpful, too.

“Luke…” Thalia muttered, eyes no longer on the pool. Percy wasn’t sure what was up with her, but he had the feeling the Ophiotaurus wasn’t going to come to her. Was it because Bessie knew him personally? Was it because Percy had rescued him? “What happened to you?”

“Don’t you remember all those times we talked?” Luke asked her, exasperated and tired and desperate. “All those times we cursed the gods? Our fathers have done nothing for us. They have no right to rule the world!”

The girl shook her head. “Free Annabeth,” she said. “Let her go.”

“If you join me, it can be like old times,” he promised. Annabeth turned away from Percy now and he could tell she was focusing on Thalia, urging her not to listen. “The three of us together. Fighting for a better world,” Luke continued. “Please, Thalia…”

Zoë stood upright in her place, narrowing her eyes at Thalia. “Do not, Thalia,” she said. “We must fight them.”

Percy didn’t see how the two of them stood a chance, but he bit his lip.

Waving his hand again, Luke summoned fire—Percy wasn’t sure why. Behind them, Percy felt the coldness getting heavier and he tilted his head backward just enough to reveal the sarcophagus that was now glowing, revealing images in the mist all around them: black marble walls rising, the ruins becoming whole, a terrible and beautiful palace rising around them, made of fear and shadow.

“We will raise Mount Othrys right here,” Luke said, voice still strained from how much he wanted Thalia to understand. “Once more, it will be stronger and greater than Olympus. Look, Thalia. We are not weak.”

His voice sure as hell was weak, though.

He gestured toward the ocean and Percy followed his finger only to feel his heart stammering. An army of monsters from the Princess Andromeda was marching up the mountain, ready to fight. Percy knew there were a lot of monsters on their side, but this definitely didn’t cheer him up now. He assumed they only had a couple of minutes, nothing more.

“This is only a taste of what is to come,” Luke said. “Soon we will be ready to storm Camp Half-Blood.” Annabeth shuddered at that and Percy didn’t need to see her face to know that she was furious. “And after that, Olympus itself. All we need is your help.”

Thalia hesitated for a moment that made Percy tighten his hold on Annabeth’s arm. He didn’t know Thalia well enough, but he couldn’t imagine her working for Kronos after the quest she’d just had. How could she when she was spending so much time and effort on rescuing her friend and a goddess, right? It wouldn’t make sense.

The look she gave Luke was one of hurt, like she wanted nothing more than to listen to him, yet she brought up her spear, getting ready to attack. “You aren’t Luke,” she said sternly and Percy heaved a sigh of relief. “I don’t know you anymore.”

“Yes, you do, Thalia,” he protested. “Please. Don’t make me… don’t make him destroy you.”

Thalia and Zoë locked eyes and nodded at each other. Percy realized what was happening a moment before they both charged at Atlas and Luke. The sword slipped away from Annabeth’s neck—which was good—as Luke moved forward to meet Thalia’s spear. Atlas smirked at Zoë who ignored her injury and glared up at him, bow and arrows at the ready.

But that wasn’t going to work. Grover wasn’t there to help. The two girls were on their own, and while Percy was certain they would have been okay in any other circumstances, now they were up to a Titan (who summoned a javelin and whose suit became a Greek battle-armor) and an old friend Thalia seriously seemed to still miss dearly. And Zoë was injured, which made none of this any better.

Biting his lip, Percy glanced back at the dracaena that watched the scene in interest, taking in the image of Luke and Thalia attacking each other with what looked like mirth, the sarcophagus still glowing. Then he cast his gaze over to Artemis who followed Zoë with her eyes, worry shining in her silver-golden eyes. She probably knew about the injury, too. And she couldn’t even do anything about it as Zoë shot arrow after arrow at her father who tried to attack her with his javelin.

“Annabeth,” Percy muttered under his breath. She craned her neck to look at him, eyes wide. She was already struggling to free herself from her loose restraints. “Don’t get yourself killed,” he warned her.

Her eyes twinkled like she had a retort at the ready that she couldn’t say.

Then Percy tugged at the rope around her hand just enough to let her set herself free a little faster and slipped her dagger out before putting it in her hand, where it belonged. His hand slipped into his pocket as he ran forward and he uncapped Riptide just in time to station himself between Zoë—on the ground and looking dazed—and Atlas, who lifted his javelin to strike.

Percy blocked the javelin with his sword, gritting his teeth at the effort it required. He knew Atlas was strong—he had to be to carry the sky all these years—but this felt like something Percy could never match. He was shaking from the force, and he could tell it wasn’t even Atlas’s strongest strike.

The thing that must have saved him was the shock. Atlas’s eyes were wide open as he stumbled back, staring at Percy in astonishment before he narrowed his eyes in anger.

“Mutiny!” he roared, enraged.

From his place fighting Thalia, Percy heard Luke’s gasp. “Percy?” he asked. “What are you doing?”

Percy set his jaw and lifted Anaklusmos again. He didn’t stand a chance against Atlas, he knew that already, but what other choice did he have, really? “You should’ve stayed under the sky,” he said. “Now you’re just going to be really embarrassed when you lose.”

Atlas charged at Percy and, knowing he couldn’t parry again unless he wanted his hands to fall off, Percy rolled away. Zoë was crouched next to a wall and she leaned against it, holding her side with a grimace on her face as her eyes were trained on Percy and Atlas’s dance. Well… dance sounded like a graceful thing. Percy mainly just tried to avoid Atlas’s javelin while also aiming to try and find an unprotected area between the armor that he could somehow slash at.

Still, this couldn’t last forever. Percy saw Atlas’s strike a moment before the pole of the javelin hit him in the chest, throwing him back forcefully and knocking the air out of Percy’s chest. He slid backward on his back until he found himself blinking dazedly up at Artemis.

“Run,” Artemis told him, straining under the sky a little more. “You must run.”

“Percy!” Annabeth shouted—she managed to free herself, then, he assumed.

Atlas approached, holding his javelin up to deliver the finishing blow, but then an arrow hit him in the armpit—from Zoë, Percy presumed—and a blur moved past him, slashing with a small blade—Annabeth attacked with her knife.

Sitting up with his head pounding a little, Percy blinked at the two girls that fought the Titan ferociously. They still didn’t stand a chance, he knew, but they were trying, anyway. Zoë was hurt, and she was still fighting her father. Did she seriously just save Percy’s life?

Percy glanced down at Riptide. Even the three of them were probably no match to the Titan.

There is always a way out for those clever enough to find it, Athena had told him in his dream. Was she talking about a situation such as this? Because what he had in mind—the sudden thought that plagued him all of a sudden—felt a lot more reckless and stupid then clever.

He gritted his teeth and put Riptide back in his pocket. He hated the idea he had already, but what other choice did they have, really? Turning away from the fight, Percy focused on Artemis.

“The sky,” he said, and he hoped he didn’t sound as scared as he felt. “Give it to me.”

She was frowning at him now. “No. You don’t know what you’re asking. It will crush you!” Artemis argued.

“I’ve taken it before,” he reminded her.

“Along with the girl,” the goddess told him. “Alone, you will not last so long.”

“You think I liked it the last time? I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other choice!” he said. “I’ll die anyway. Give me the weight of the sky!”

He slipped under the crushing weight once more, like he did all those days ago, and held his hands up as he knelt down, getting himself as ready as he could. Artemis was their only chance here—she was a goddess. She could handle a Titan, Percy was sure of it. If he wanted to win this battle, he would have to let her fight because her being neutralized was a bad idea.

It was just as painful as it was before—maybe more. Or maybe Percy’s been downplaying it ever since he got to walk away from carrying the sky. Anyway, it was horrible as he carried it with the goddess who stared at him as he shook but held his ground firmly. He could do this. He had to do this because if he couldn’t…

The next moment, Artemis left to join the fight and Percy was holding the sky on his own. Like last time, he couldn’t scream. He didn’t have the energy to, but this was so much worse. He couldn’t even describe it, as much as he wanted to. This was torture at its finest, he figured. Nothing could be worse than holding up the sky without any help. He honestly had no idea how Artemis remained coherent after days of doing so. How Atlas was still capable of thinking straight.

Percy couldn’t even take in any of the fight before him. His eyes were closed and he bared his teeth. He felt like the entire world was crushing him, which was pretty much true. He heard voices shouting—some clearer than others. Someone grunted next to him and Percy seriously hoped it wasn’t an enemy because he didn’t feel like getting stabbed on top of everything.

“Percy!” A hand caressed his cheek gently and he barely managed to squint a little at the blond girl standing before him. She was crying, he thought in a haze. “Percy, I’ll help you. Let me—“

He managed to shake his head. “No,” he protested, and he wasn’t really sure the word came out right, but Annabeth seemed to understand because she didn’t move. He closed his eyes again. “Go.”

“But—“

“Annabeth!” someone called—Percy wasn’t sure who. It could be anyone. Well, maybe not Atlas. The next moment the girl was gone—Percy could feel the air before him emptying—and he stayed in place, getting crushed further and further by the sky as he hoped the others were winning the fight because if not… this would be a pretty horrible way to die and lose.

Get ready, a voice spoke inside Percy’s mind and he opened his eyes again to see Artemis and Atlas fighting each other. The goddess was backing away toward Percy, luring the Titan after her. He tried to let her know that he got the message, but he figured his thoughts were too jumbled from the pressure so she must have gotten a pretty stupid reply.

Atlas swung his weapon and Artemis dodged, but it was a misdirect. He brought down his javelin and swiped Artemis’s legs from under her, so close to where Percy was. The goddess hit the ground and the Titan prepared to strike her when Zoë shouted and stationed herself between the two. She shot an arrow into the forehead of her father who roared and swept her aside with his hand.

Percy wanted to scream when Zoë hit a wall and collapsed to the floor. Or, at least, it sounded like it. He couldn’t actually see Zoë since tilting his head was a luxury he didn’t have at the moment. He briefly wondered how Atlas managed to hold the sky and go to the bathroom every once in a while but quickly realized he should probably focus on the situation at hand more.

Pulling the arrow out of his head, Atlas threw it aside and then stabbed at Artemis with his javelin. Percy watched in horror-turned-fascination as she grabbed its shaft and made it hit the ground next to her. Using it to her advantage, Artemis kicked Atlas over her with the help of his implanted javelin that provided her some much-needed leverage, and Percy watched as he came flying toward him.

Oh, he thought.

He prepared himself, loosening his grip on the sky, and didn’t try to stand his ground as Atlas’s body slammed into him. Percy rolled backward as far away as he could with his tired limbs and aching body. Everything hurt, but he could still see Atlas fuming as he found himself carrying the sky once more.

The Titan bellowed and raged, screaming so loudly it seemed to shake the ground. The entire mountain, maybe.

Percy tried to stand up but his body wouldn’t support him. His vision was still swimming a little and he wasn’t sure what the state of his hair was this time, but it was probably not the best.

“You idiot,” a voice next to him said and he barely managed to crane his neck in order to look up at Annabeth who approached him with a small, relieved smile and glistening eyes. “What were you thinking, huh? How stupid do you have to be to want to carry the sky?”

He huffed out some air, all too aware of how it should have been laughter—he was too weak for that right now. “It worked,” he said as nonchalantly as he could muster.

She slapped his shoulder lightly and he winced in pain. Everything hurt, burned. He hated it. Then she looked over to watch as Thalia pointed her spear at Luke’s throat near the edge of the cliff, her face filled with fury and her body trembling. Luke’s sword was on the ground—Thalia must have disarmed him.

“Don’t kill him!” Annabeth yelled at Thalia.

Her hand grasped Percy’s shoulder and he wanted to cry out but he held it in and instead searched for a moment to check and see where Artemis was. He found her kneeling next to Zoë who had her eyes opened even though she looked like she was half dead. It made Percy’s stomach drop a little.

“He’s a traitor,” Thalia said, not looking away from Luke. Her voice drew Percy’s attention back to her. “A traitor!”

Annabeth let go of his shoulder (thankfully) and took a step toward Luke and Thalia. “We’ll bring Luke back,” she said. “To Olympus. He… he’ll be useful.”

“Is that what you want, Thalia?” Luke scoffed. “To go back to Olympus in triumph? To please your dad?”

For a moment Thalia hesitated and Luke used it to try and grab her spear. Annabeth screamed and ran toward them, but it was a moment too late. Percy watched, stunned, as Thalia kicked Luke away by instinct. And it would have been fine… had they not been standing near the edge.

Percy could see the terror on Luke’s face—someone he’s known for two years, someone who’s been using him, but was still friendly most of the time—as he lost his balance… and then fell down, off the cliff.

“Luke!” Annabeth called. Thalia looked shocked.

Forcing his legs to work, Percy stumbled toward the edge and looked down. He could see the army of monsters coming toward them. They were close, now, and they were clearly seeing the body at the bottom—motionless. Luke. Percy gaped at him, unable to believe he was just… gone. Just like that. It was insane to think about.

The monsters bellowed something and ran forward, trying to get up even faster than before. Percy blinked furiously to try and rid himself of the image of Luke’s body just lying there. He turned to Thalia who was crying now, her body completely stiff as she mourned.

Behind her, Percy noticed a javelin sailing toward them and he pulled her back before it could impale her. On Percy’s other side stood Annabeth, sobbing, too. She looked like she couldn’t look away from Luke’s body if she tried, so he swallowed thickly and tugged at her hand a few times until she finally tore her eyes away from the ground far below them, turning to look at Percy with a miserable expression.

“We can’t stay here,” he told her, almost pleading with her.

She nodded shakily and wiped a few tears from her cheek. “Right. Right, we have to leave.”

Percy glanced at the approaching monsters and then stared out at the view before him and whistled as loudly as he could. Annabeth flinched a little, giving him a baffled look. Thalia swayed slightly on her feet but didn’t react other than that too much. He even noticed Artemis getting up with Zoë in her arms, being carried like she was the most precious thing in the world.

Ducking to avoid a knife that was thrown at him, Percy tried to ignore the way his muscles protested at all this movement after he just finished carrying the sky for the second time. Then he straightened up and found three Pegasi sailing toward them—one of them as black as night.

Boss! Blackjack said as he landed next to Percy along with his two friends. You called?

The other two Pegasi neighed at Percy. How ya doin’?

“I know you can move faster than that,” Percy grumbled but still turned to the others. “Thalia, take Porkpie. Artemis, you and Zoë can fly with Guido,” he pointed at the Pegasi quickly and by the time he turned to Annabeth, Thalia was already starting to climb into her Pegasus’s back, looking a little apprehensive about it, yet still willing.

Guido neighed nervously, though, and took a hesitant step away from Artemis. She’ll kill me! he protested.

“No, I won’t,” the goddess said.

Percy nodded. “No, she won’t. But if you don’t let her ride you right now, I will!”

Guido settled down and let Artemis and Zoë climb onto his back reluctantly.

“Come on, Annabeth.” Percy turned to the girl that was glancing back again at the body over the edge.

She snapped her gaze up and her gray eyes met his own. Something in them turned a little sharper, more focused, and she nodded. “Right. Pegasi,” she mumbled.

You haven’t eaten too much, right? I got kind of tired from getting these guys all the way here in such short notice. Not that I’m complaining or anything…

“I’ll give you extra snacks when we get someplace safe, alright? Just go already!” Percy yelled as another weapon was tossed their way. A Laistrygonian was already thundering toward the lot of them and Percy didn’t want to fight him with his body aching as much as it was. So he climbed quickly onto Blackjack’s back and then pulled Annabeth up until she was sitting behind him, arms wrapped around his waist. “We’re leaving! now!”

Blackjack and the other two flapped their wings and sprang into the air in an instant. Thalia yelped in alarm and clung to her Pegasus. Artemis didn’t seem to have any problem staying on board Guido, although the Pegasus was definitely tense.

Percy tried to stay alert because he wasn’t sure what the army was capable of or whether Kronos would somehow act to stop them. He could definitely feel something in the back of his mind, like an evil presence screeching at him to halt and turn back around. Ultimately, Percy snapped at it to get out of his head and kept on urging Blackjack, Guido and Porkpie to move further away.

The wind whistling in his ears made it kind of difficult to hear anything, but Percy could feel Annabeth’s face burrowing into his back and the way his shirt dampened a little made it pretty obvious that she was crying. He wasn’t sure what to say to make any of this better, though. He wasn’t even sure that opening his mouth wouldn’t end up in Percy crying, too.

Sure, Luke was working for Kronos and he was kind of extremely scary when he was as intense as he was in the training room earlier that day, but he was still one of the first people that were nice to Percy. Or… as nice as someone who was manipulating him could ever be. Because Luke was both telling him some of the truth and keeping him from learning who Percy’s father was, what his purpose in all of this was… He was hiding things, but he was still mostly friendly.

The hurt, baffled look on his face when Percy jumped forward to join the fight… Percy didn’t expect the image to leave his head any time soon.

They didn’t talk. Not Artemis, not Thalia, not Annabeth. Zoë was still resting in the goddess’s arms, like a fragile marionette whose strings have been cut down. Percy’s only indication that she was still alive was that her eyes were open and she blinked every once in a while, staring up at the stars that started appearing above them as night fell.

What felt like forever later, Percy urged the Pegasi to land them all.

Percy watched solemnly as Artemis slid off Guido immediately and dropped to the ground to start binding Zoë’s wounds. He got off Blackjack’s back, too, and he could tell Annabeth followed suit, as did Thalia, but he didn’t approach Zoë or the goddess, instead sheepishly shuffling his feet. This felt like Bianca all over again, only this time they had a body—they had Zoë right in front of them, and she was clearly dying.

Making her way to the goddess and Zoë, Thalia bent down and observed Zoë for a moment before shaking her head. She said she didn’t have ambrosia or nectar, meaning they couldn’t give any to help Zoë. Annabeth grabbed his hand and pulled him toward them and he grimaced but followed anyway. Wasn’t like standing around and doing nothing was going to help.

“Can’t you heal her with magic?” Percy asked, eyes moving from Zoë to Artemis’s grief-stricken face. It was so strange to see such an expression on the face of an immortal being, but Percy tried not to think about it too hard. “I mean… you’re a goddess.”

“Life is a fragile thing, Percy,” she said and he was almost taken aback by the fact that she called him by his name—not ‘boy’ or ‘Perseus Jackson’. Just Percy. “If the Fates will the string to be cut, there is little I can do. But I can try.”

She moved her hand to put it on Zoë’s side, but the Hunter caught it beforehand and looked up at Artemis. Percy wasn’t sure what was going on, but he could tell they were communicating silently, no words needed.

“Have I… served thee well?” Zoë asked in a small voice that was not like the commanding one Percy remembered.

“With great honor,” Artemis confirmed, her voice gentle and loving. “The finest of my attendants.”

Zoë seemed to relax at that. “Rest,” she murmured. “At last.”

“I can try to heal the poison, my brave one,” Artemis told her.

Percy stared at the gash—it was the one Zoë had arrived at the top of the mountain with, not something from the battle against Atlas. Meaning… she got poisoned before and still fought with everything she had. Percy shuddered just thinking about it. He knew that Ladon was poisonous because Luke had warned him about it—probably to get Percy to finally listen to him and stop going down to the ocean—but to think that the dragon was responsible for this…

But it was more than that, Percy knew. The poison and the injury would have been salvable had it not been for Atlas’s strikes against his daughter. The poison wasn’t the final blow—it was Atlas. And Percy kind of wanted to go back to the mountain to somehow try to make Atlas see just how horrible a parent he was for bringing forth the death of his own child.

He didn’t move, though. Just watched.

Zoë blinked and her eyes fell on Thalia, sitting on her other side with tear tracks shining on her cheeks. Zoë grabbed her hand. “I am sorry we argued,” she said. Percy had no idea what she was talking about but didn’t say anything. “We could have been sisters.”

“It’s my fault,” Thalia said. “You were right about Luke, about heroes, men—everything,” she went on.

Percy shifted a little—the only male in the group—before Annabeth held his hand and caught his eye. She looked like she knew what was going through his head and she wasn’t going to let him believe they were talking about him. He wasn’t sure he believed that, but he still smiled at her a little before they both turned back to the scene before them.

He blinked hard when he found Zoë’s eyes on him. She had an odd expression on her face, like she was trying to figure him out while also believing that maybe he wasn’t that bad. “Perhaps not all men,” she murmured. “Do you still have the sword, Percy?”

His tongue felt too heavy in his mouth, so he speechlessly pulled out Riptide. Annabeth’s eyes were on him, and he knew she was wary about what might happen next because he did tell her he didn’t feel right using the sword that he thought still belonged to Zoë. Still, she didn’t protest when he let go of her hand to come and crouch next to Zoë.

Putting the pen in Zoë’s hand, Percy bit his lip. “I know who it was you gave it to,” he said, the words spilling out like they had no other option but to come out. Zoë didn’t react, she just rolled the pen between her fingers, eyes flitting up to look at Percy. “But I’m not like that. At least… I hope I’m not.”

She was quiet for a moment or two, contemplating, then she smiled at him weakly, faintly. “You speak the truth, Percy Jackson,” she said and he shifted a little uneasily. “I do not believe you are like… like Hercules.” She seemed to have a great difficulty saying the name and Percy remembered how she refused to say it in his dream. He gaped at her. “I am honored that you carry this sword.”

His throat was choked as he tried hard not to cry. “Zoë—”

“Stars,” she whispered, eyes gliding over to the sky above them, dotted with marvelous, shining stars. Artemis’s eyes sparkled as a tear slipped down her cheek. “I can see the stars again, my lady.”

“Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight.”

“Stars,” Zoë murmured one last time and then she stopped moving completely. Her eyes were still trained on the sky, her chest no longer rising.

Thalia bowed her head and Percy could hear Annabeth trying not to sob behind him. He felt a little numb as he straightened up and pulled her closer to him. He wasn’t sure he could really help in any way, but Annabeth clung to him like she couldn’t think of a better place to be right now, mourning the death of someone she barely even knew.

They all watched as Artemis cupped her hand over Zoë’s mouth, making some kind of silvery wisp rise out of it and into the goddess’s hand. Zoë’s body shimmered and vanished as if it was never even there and Percy wondered what was going on for a moment before Artemis stood up, mumbled something he couldn’t quite catch but which he was sure was some kind of prayer or blessing into her cupped hand, and then released the wisp from her grasp.

They followed it with their eyes as it rose up to the sky before vanishing.

Percy wasn’t sure what that did until he heard Annabeth’s gasp and followed her line of sight. She was gazing up at the sky, eyes reflecting the stars that were now definitely shining brighter. Percy’s jaw dropped in awe as he noticed a constellation that he was pretty sure hasn’t been there before—one of a girl with a bow, running across the sky.

A shiver ran down his spine and he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the stars that represented an actual person—someone he knew.

“Let the world honor you, my Huntress,” Artemis said. “Live forever in the stars.”

She flickered, like her emotions were getting the better of her, and Percy decided not to get too close to the goddess and instead stared north, at the thunder and lightning above Mount Tam. He shuddered to think what Kronos’s plan would be now, because it couldn’t be the end. The Titan would have something else to throw at the gods and this time Percy was going to be on the receiving end of it. It didn’t exactly fill him with joy.

“I must go to Olympus immediately,” Artemis said. “I will not be able to take you, but I believe you already have a ride,” she added with a glance toward the three Pegasi that were staring up at the stars. Percy could hear them muttering under their breaths about Zoë and he tried to tune them out. Turning to Annabeth, Artemis put a hand on her shoulder. “You are brave beyond measure, my girl. You will do what is right.”

Percy wasn’t sure what that meant until he remembered that Annabeth had told him that she was considering joining the Hunt. He glanced at her uncertainly but Annabeth was staring at the goddess and didn’t seem to notice.

Then Artemis looked over at Thalia who refused to look back at her for a moment or two. Percy was kind of weirded out to realize that the two of them were, technically, sisters. That had to be awkward. But then their eyes locked and something passed between them that Percy didn’t understand. However, it made Artemis soften with sympathy, so it couldn’t be too bad.

“You did well,” Artemis said suddenly and it took Percy a moment to realize she was looking at him. “For a man.”

His mouth opened to tell her that he thought he did pretty damn good, actually, for once. But then he shut it with a snap. She didn’t call him a ‘boy’ this time. A ‘man’ was an improvement, right?

He could’ve sworn there was a smirk on Artemis’s lips as she pulled out her hunting horn and blew it. The sound echoed all around them and for a moment nothing happened. And then Percy looked up as the light of the moon brightened and a silver chariot appeared from the sky. Deer pulled it forward—more beautiful than any other deer Percy has ever seen before (though frankly, he hasn’t seen that many).

“Like Santa Claus’s sleigh,” Percy muttered in awe.

She climbed in and then looked back at him, eyes twinkling. “Indeed, young half-blood. And where do you think that legend came from?” she said and Percy tried to imagine Artemis riding across the world, leaving gifts for children. It was so ridiculous he nearly burst into laughter on the spot. “Blue pancakes,” she said, somewhat to herself, and then turned to Percy one last time. “I will look into that again.”

“They don’t have to be blue,” he said but she was already flying away from them. “Will the gods incinerate me for giving a goddess a pancake addiction?” he asked.

Thalia cocked an eyebrow at him but then just walked back toward Porkpie. “We need to go—it’s going to be a long journey.”

She climbed onto her Pegasus’s back and Annabeth rolled her eyes at Percy and moved toward Guido. “Come on, Seaweed Brain—she’s right. We need to get there as quickly as possible.”

“Right…”

You okay, boss? Blackjack asked as Percy numbly sat on him. He started flying, keeping closer to Guido like he knew Percy would feel more comfortable around Annabeth despite not really knowing her himself.

Percy gazed up at the stars, instantly spotting the new constellation in the sky. “Yeah…”

Chapter Text

“Luke,” Annabeth muttered at some point after Thalia’s fallen asleep on top of Porkpie. “He isn’t dead, Percy.”

He stared at her. “What?” he asked, a little concerned for her now. He was there, too. He saw Luke’s body at the bottom after his fall—there was no way he was still alive. “Annabeth, that fall was pretty bad. There’s no way—”

“He isn’t dead,” she insisted. “I know it.”

Percy stared at her for a moment longer and then averted his eyes to look at Thalia. He found it kind of impressive that despite her fear of heights she managed to sleep on the back of a flying horse, but he didn’t say anything and instead pictured that moment again, of Luke losing his balance and falling over the edge.

He couldn’t have made it out alive. It was impossible. Bianca had died. Zoë had, too. It just didn’t make sense that out of all three of them, Luke made it out alive. But, then again, Luke has been trying to resurrect a Titan that was cut into pieces and who could whisper into people’s dreams and make them do his bidding. So really… was it truly that impossible? Percy wasn’t sure whether he was hoping Luke had survived or not. It was too complicated to think about.

“What do you think will happen now?” he asked.

Annabeth sighed and sagged a little. “I don’t know, Percy. The gods are… strange, you might say. I’m not sure how they’ll react to what Artemis has to say. I hope they’ll help. I hope Zeus will finally see reason and actually decide to act to prevent Kronos from returning.”

That wasn’t exactly what Percy was talking about. He was more worried about what the gods might do to him if they see him and know he’s been working for Kronos for the last two years, but he had the feeling Annabeth was avoiding this specific topic purposefully and he realized she wasn’t sure what would happen. She was just as worried as he was, yet she was trying not to let it show.

Neither one of them said anything else after that. Percy watched as Blackjack and the other two sped up, everything around them blending into colorful blobs that he couldn’t make out. Percy stared below him at the land they flew over quickly, the sky slowly turning a lighter shade of blue as dawn approached.

And then he looked up and his eyes recognized the glowing city that spread before his eyes—New York. He was pretty sure he would have recognized his city no matter what. And after that dream he’d had from his father, he was more than happy to get back to it, even if Percy had absolutely no idea why they were flying to New York of all places.

How’s that for speedy, boss? Blackjack bragged as they got closer and closer. We get extra hay for breakfast or what?

Personally, Percy was more concerned with whether or not he would ever get to eat breakfast. Still, he smiled at his Pegasus. “You’re the man, Blackjack,” he said, drawing a look from Annabeth who looked between him and Blackjack like she was still having a hard time believing he was talking to the flying horse. “Er, the horse, I mean.”

“There is it,” Thalia said. Percy wasn’t sure when she even woke up, but she was staring at Manhattan, pointing at the Empire State Building. “It’s started.”

“The winter solstice?” Percy asked.

“The Council of the Gods,” Annabeth told him and then pointed at the building, too, though her finger was pointing further up, to the top. “Look, Percy,” she said.

He squinted his eyes at the top of the building and then nearly fell off Blackjack’s back in surprise. There wasn’t just open sky up there. There was a city—an island of light way up in the sky, a floating mountain ablaze with torches and braziers. Percy’s jaw dropped as they got closer and closer and he could see marble palaces gleaming in the early morning air.

Mouth going dry, he swallowed thickly and leaned back, apprehensive. “Oh,” he said.

Going to Olympus—the actual home of the gods—would have probably been a lot more inviting had Percy not felt like they might smite him without giving him a second look for, you know, working against them for a while. He could always claim that he didn’t know and that he hasn’t actually done much to warrant their wrath, but, like, they were the gods. The same ones from the old stories, where mercy just wasn’t really a thing.

It was a little alarming to feel the way Blackjack’s hooves touched the ground—a ground that definitely shouldn’t have been there because how come no one in New York knew about this?!—yet Percy still managed to not just freeze up or urge his Pegasus to fly away from there as soon as possible. Instead, he took in a deep breath and slid off his friend’s back.

Percy’s brain could barely comprehend the fact that the Pegasi had dropped them off right in front of the enormous gates of a palace that was at the peak of the mountain. It was greater than the others Percy has seen so far, which was saying something when they were all built for gods and looked absolutely flawless.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Annabeth said as she walked up to stand beside him.

He had no idea what she was talking about, but he still nodded. “Sure. Yeah,” he said. Maybe he was squeaking—he couldn’t tell.

“I wish I could build something like that, someday,” Annabeth sighed as Thalia joined them.

Percy blinked a couple of times and then stared at the blond. “Uh… a palace?”

She rolled her eyes and didn’t reply. She and Thalia turned to look at the gates to the palace and Percy hesitantly joined them. He wondered which one of them was supposed to knock. Personally, he would have preferred to just… get the heck out of there. Knocking seemed like a terrible idea.

Well, apparently nobody was going to consider his opinion because the gates opened on their own, revealing the throne room that made Percy’s mind screech to a halt. There were twelve seats inside, each one different, and they were all occupied by giants—fifteen feet tall gods and goddesses that oozed so much energy and power, it made the hair on the back of Percy’s neck stand on end.

Good luck, boss, Blackjack said.

Percy’s mind was swirling but he still heard the words in his head. “Yeah,” he mumbled.

Hey, if ya don’t come back, can I have bragging rights of being the last Pegasus to have seen and befriended you? Blackjack asked. Percy turned to stare at him. First son of Poseidon in a while—it’s a big deal. I can be famous.

Percy spluttered. “Blackjack!”

His Pegasus had the decency to look a little sheepish. Just a thought… he muttered. Sorry.

He and the two others flew off and Percy watched them with his heart beating all the way to his throat. He wished he could just stay with them instead of following Annabeth and Thalia into the palace where the powerful gods were, but he steeled himself the best he could and just turned around to look at the other two girls.

Thalia was staring at him with this calculating gaze, like she was trying to figure him out again. Or maybe she was considering which flowers would go well with his casket once the gods incinerated him. Then she offered him a small, reassuring smile and led the other two into the throne room.

“Welcome, heroes,” Artemis greeted them, her voice laced with appreciation.

And then came a sound Percy wasn’t expecting to hear: “Mooo!”

He snapped his head to the side and a little upward and found Bessie—the Ophiotaurus, apparently—swimming happily in a sphere of water that was hovering next to the hearth (did he just imagine the girl that sat by it for a moment, tending to the flames and smiling at Percy calmly before flashing out of sight?). Bessie looked so happy to have his little pool of water that it brought a smile to Percy’s face despite the feeling of doom that was washing all over him.

Next to the sphere, looking small and very intimidated, Percy was glad to see Grover. His friend was kneeling in front of Zeus’s throne—it had to be Zeus, Percy figured—but he looked up, saw Thalia, Annabeth and Percy and his eyes lit up.

“You made it!” he called and then, in the silent room, got up and ran toward them. Percy would have laughed at his friend—especially when Grover stopped in his tracks and turned around to face Zeus again, horror etched to his face as he seemed to realize he’d turned his back on the god.

Luckily for the satyr, Zeus just waved him off and let him off without a word, silently telling him he could proceed. Although Percy had the feeling it was less to do with Grover’s minor disrespect and more to do with the fact that the god’s attention was on his daughter, like he was seeing her for the first time.

While Grover made his way toward the three demigods, hooves clopping loudly and echoing in the vast, silent room, Percy let his eyes roam around nervously.

He didn’t know the gods, though he could tell which one Apollo was just from the way the god winked at him as if they were sharing a secret, even though the god was also listening to music with iPod headphones. He looked nothing like the homeless he was in Percy’s dream, but he was definitely the same guy and he had a similar blinding smile, if not even worse.

Another one Percy recognized was Athena—no other goddess had such cold, gray eyes. And she was definitely looking at him with a disapproving aura, like she could tell she already didn’t like him and she wanted to figure out a way to get rid of him. Percy shuddered to think what kind of plan she might come up with, honestly. She was the goddess of wisdom—she was the one planning battle strategies. She could end his life in a way that nobody would be able to foresee.

And then there was his father. He was dressed remarkably the same as he had in Percy’s dream. And despite all the reasons he had to look at Percy like he was either embarrassing him or simply not worth his attention, Poseidon’s eyes were crinkled as his lips tugged up in a smile. He nodded at Percy a little, as if to say everything was okay, that Percy was doing well.

Tearing his eyes from the gods, Percy watched as Grover finally reached them and hugged Thalia and Annabeth like he’s been missing both of them and not only one. And then he turned to Percy and crushed him in a hug that was definitely tighter than the ones he’d given the girls.

“You’re really here this time, right?” Grover asked when he pulled away, still grasping Percy’s arms like he wanted to make sure his friend was real.

Percy grinned. “Yup.”

“Oh, that’s good!” The satyr sighed in relief and then his eyes got more alert. “Percy, Bessie (can’t believe you called him that! And that he accepted) and I made it! But you have to convince them! They can’t do it!”

“Made it? What are you talking about? Do what?”

Before Grover could answer, Artemis spoke up. “Heroes,” she said and got off her throne before she shimmered and suddenly she wasn’t a fifteen tall goddess, but human sized—the same girl Percy’s chatted with the last couple of days. Her face was blank as she approached the center of the room, looking very comfortable despite being smaller than the rest. “The Council has been informed of your deeds. They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West. They know of Atlas’s attempt for freedom, and the gathering armies of Kronos. We have voted to act.”

Annabeth grabbed Percy’s hand and squeezed it, her face relaxing a little as she seemed to take in the news. Percy decided not to point out the fact that some of the other gods were twisting uncomfortably and muttering under their breaths, like the decision was made against their better judgement.

Artemis continued. “At my Lord Zeus’s command, my brother Apollo and I shall hunt the most powerful monsters, seeking to strike them down before they can join the Titans’ cause. Lady Athena shall personally check on the other Titans to make sure they do not escape their various prisons. Lord Poseidon has been given permission to unleash his full fury on the cruise ship Princess Andromeda and send it to the bottom of the sea.”

Percy wanted to chime in and comment on how trying to sink the ship wouldn’t help. He knew that much—Luke had told him that no matter what the gods did, Kronos was protecting it. Or had others do his dirty work, keeping the ship safe. This ship was going to survive the gods’ wrath, even if it was Poseidon himself that tried to harm it.

He didn’t speak up, though. He had the feeling that wouldn’t be taken well by anyone.

“And as for you, my heroes…” Artemis continued and turned to face the other gods. “These half-bloods have done Olympus a great service. Would any here deny it?”

Artemis looked around at all the other gods who eyed the demigods with different expressions. Percy noticed a god holding a caduceus. His eyes were staring at Percy and he was smiling a little, as if he knew Percy. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was—Hermes, Luke’s father. He looked nice, unlike Luke’s stories made him out to be. Percy wondered whether he hoped for Percy to somehow find Luke (dead, dead, dead) and make him change his stance, the same way that Percy did the last few days since meeting Annabeth and Artemis.

He averted his eyes quickly, unable to look at the god without feeling like he could see Luke grinning at him, sword at the ready as they practiced again. It was… too much for a moment. Whether or not Luke survived or died like Annabeth had said, it was still a lot to take in. He was going to fight Luke if the guy was still around, after all. And this time it would be for real, not for training.

“I gotta say,” Apollo said, apparently listening despite the headphones. “These kids did okay.” He cleared his throat and started reciting: “Heroes win laurels—”

Hermes cut in, eyeing Apollo like he wanted nothing more than to shove something down his throat before he could finish his new haiku. “Um, yes, first class. All in favor of not disintegrating them?”

Percy glanced sideways at the girls and found Thalia looking mostly annoyed but resigned and Annabeth covering her face with her hands like she couldn’t believe this was happening and she wasn’t sure she wanted to see it. He couldn’t blame her—this was something he’s been expecting… for himself. Not all of them. It made no sense.

Still, he watched as a few gods lifted their hands tentatively. One of them—a goddess that was probably the most beautiful one in the room—nearly made Percy gasp. She kinda, sorta, maybe looked a lot like Annabeth. It baffled him, because she was definitely not Athena. Her eyes were too bright and expressive to be the colder goddess. And she was eyeing him and Annabeth with too much interest.

It made him blush despite himself. This had to be Aphrodite. The goddess he’s been blaming for his last couple of days with Annabeth. Not that he was complaining, exactly, but it was just… messed up to think that there was a goddess that took an interest in who you liked and who you didn’t.

A god with sunglasses that seemed to burn, like something behind them was glowing brightly, pointed at Thalia and Percy. He kind of looked like a wrestler—only, if a human wrestler stood against him, Percy knew this guy would win just from snarling at them.

“Wait a minute,” the god growled. “These two are dangerous. It’d be much safer, while we’ve got them here—”

“Ares,” Poseidon cut in, eyes stormy. Percy stared at them, feeling like he was actually looking at a stormy sea. “They are worthy heroes. We will not blast my son to bits.”

“Nor my daughter,” Zeus added, sounding rather annoyed that he actually had to say it. “She has done well.”

Both Thalia and Percy found themselves blushing at the comments.

The gray-eyed goddess—Athena—leaned a little forward. “I am proud of my daughter as well,” she noted. “But there is a security risk here with the other two,” she said. “Especially Poseidon’s child.”

“Mother!” Annabeth protested. “How can you—”

Athena looked at her daughter with a look that remained calm (Percy wasn’t actually sure she could get upset) but stern enough to shut Annabeth up. “It is unfortunate that my father, Zeus, and my uncle, Poseidon, chose to break their oath not to have more children,” she said smoothly. Percy could see both gods glaring at her, but she didn’t seem to notice nor would she care. “Only Hades kept his word, a fact that I find ironic. As we know form the Great Prophecy, children of the three elder gods… such as Thalia and Percy… are dangerous. As thickheaded as he is, Ares has a point.”

“Right!” Ares agreed immediately before he seemed to notice the goddess’s exact words. “Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin’—”

When he tried to stand up, a grapevine wrapped around the god, pulling him back down. Another god spoke lazily from his throne, looking very unbothered by the situation as a whole. “Oh, please, Ares. Save the fighting for later,” he said boredly.

Dionysus, Percy told himself. The god of wine and, according to Annabeth, the director of Camp Half-Blood. He wasn’t so sure he liked the god based solely on his expression of disinterest.

“You’re one to talk, you old drunk. You seriously want to protect these brats?”

Gazing down at them, Dionysus looked mostly weary, like they were discussing the weather and not the lives of two children. “I have no love for them,” he said. “Athena, do you truly think it is safest to destroy them?”

“I do not pass judgement,” Athena said. “I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide.”

“I will not have them punished,” Artemis chimed in. Her back was to Percy, but he thought she must look rather stern right now. “I will have them rewarded. If we destroy heroes who do us a great favor, then we are no better than the Titans. If this is Olympian justice, I will have none of it,” she declared.

Apollo looked at her, with an almost fond look, like he missed hearing his sister get all worked up. “Calm down, sis,” he said. “Jeez, you need to lighten up.”

“Don’t call me sis! I will reward them.”

Percy hummed quietly and leaned just a little bit closer to Annabeth. “They’re bickering just like actual siblings,” he whispered to her.

She rolled her eyes and motioned for him to shut up, but Grover sent Percy a bright smile, like he heard the comment and found it funny. Wow, Percy really missed his friend, huh?

“Well, perhaps,” Zeus muttered. “But the monster at least must be destroyed. We have agreement on that?”

Percy watched as a lot of the gods nodded and blinked in confusion before his eyes fell on Bessie, still swimming happily in his bubble of water. He gaped at them. “Bessie?” he said. He probably shouldn’t have said anything when it looked like the gods were finally agreeing on not killing them, but Bessie was… adorable. He didn’t look dangerous. “You want to destroy Bessie?”

“Mooooooo!” Bessie protested from his place near the hearth.

His father leaned forward, frowning a little in confusion. “You have named the Ophiotaurus Bessie?”

It sounded ridiculous when put that way, but Percy just looked into his father’s eyes and tried to make him understand. “Dad,” he said, the word feeling strange in his mouth. “He’s a sea creature. A really nice sea creature. You can’t destroy him.”

No anger showed in his father’s eyes—Poseidon shifted a little uncomfortably but he didn’t look at Percy like he was upset with him for telling him what to do. He just looked like he wanted to agree with Percy, yet he couldn’t.

“Percy,” he said. The fact that he was calling him Percy and not Perseus made Percy’s heart lighter—at least a little. “The monster’s power is considerable. If the Titans were to steal it, or—”

“You can’t,” Percy pressed.

He could feel Thalia and Annabeth staring at him. Grover was staring at his hooves as if he was afraid of looking at Percy, probably thinking he would get killed right before their eyes. But Percy wasn’t afraid as he locked eyes with Zeus. How could he be afraid when he was already expecting the worst? He’s been expecting the gods to kill him when he came here, after all. He did not expect them to kill Bessie or Thalia, and if he wasn’t going to make it out, then the least he could do would be to try and save Bessie, right?

“Can you even control a prophecy? I bet you can’t. You’re trying to prevent something from happening that would happen whether you want it to or not, and instead of making sure the odds were in your favor, you’re talking about killings the two kids who might actually be your only hope? That makes no sense.”

A few gods looked at each other, looking slightly unsettled. A few looked upset at his words—angry at his boldness, probably. Apollo, though, was grinning madly, like he was finally listening to someone who knew what they were talking about. He nodded at Percy’s words approvingly, like he’s been waiting for someone to come and say something like that for ages.

Percy pointed at Bessie who looked back at him with wide, friendly eyes. “Besides, Bess—the Ophiotaurus is innocent. Killing something like that is wrong. It’s just as wrong as… as Kronos eating his children, just because of something they might do. It’s wrong!”

Zeus looked more thoughtful than upset, to Percy’s relief. He glanced at Thalia, pondering Percy’s words. “And what of the risk?” he asked. “Kronos knows full well, if one of you were to sacrifice the beast’s entrails, you would have the power to destroy us. Do you think we can let that possibility remain?” He focused on Thalia. “You, my daughter, will turn sixteen on the morrow, just as the prophecy says.”

“You have to trust them,” Annabeth said. Her voice was shaky, but she still stood her ground as the gods looked at her. Percy smiled at her gratefully. “Sir, you have to trust them.”

Zeus did not look pleased. “Trust a hero?” he asked, like it was unthinkable.

“Annabeth is right,” Artemis said before Percy could snap at Zeus again. He really wanted to. “Which is why I must first make a reward. My faithful companion, Zoë Nightshade, has passed into the stars,” she said. Percy could see Thalia bowing her head. He slipped his hand into his pocket and made contact with his pen for a split moment. “I must have a new lieutenant. And I intend to choose one. But first, Father Zeus, I must speak to you privately.”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows as Artemis approached Zeus and the two of them chatted, Artemis whispering in the god’s ear. He panicked just for a moment—because whether or not whatever Annabeth and he had would last now that she didn’t have to spend time with him, Annabeth was still basically one of the only people he knew from camp. He knew Nico, Chiron, Thalia (kinda), Grover and Annabeth. That was the entire list.

He glanced sideways and found Annabeth already looking at him with a smile that eased his worries instantly. No, she wasn’t going to leave and join the Hunters. Percy wasn’t sure what about her smile reassured him of that when it could have been a sorry, goodbye smile, but he just couldn’t see Annabeth accepting a place by Artemis’s side.

When Artemis turned back to the demigods (and Grover), Percy focused on her again. “I shall have a new lieutenant,” she announced. “If she will accept it. Thalia, daughter of Zeus,” she turned to the black-haired girl that didn’t look very surprised. More like… she’s been expecting it for a while now. “Will you join the Hunt?”

The room was silent—Percy thought that somehow Artemis managed to shock the gods, too. Athena looked rather displeased by this, but she didn’t say anything as her daughter squeezed Thalia’s hand in support before letting go and holding onto Percy’s instead. He didn’t mind, but he could feel Aphrodite, his father and Athena staring at them and he wished they could be just about anywhere else.

“I will,” Thalia stated.

Zeus stood up. He looked concerned. Percy wished Luke could see this (and not the part where the gods considered killing them all), because it was impossible to ignore the fact that the god cared for his daughter. “My daughter, consider well—”

“Father,” she said. “I will not turn sixteen tomorrow. I will never turn sixteen. I won’t let this prophecy be mine,” she said and Percy furrowed his brows as he tried to process the words and what they meant exactly. He had a bad feeling about this. “I stand with my sister Artemis. Kronos will never tempt me again.” Then she knelt before Artemis and recited an oath that Percy wasn’t sure how she knew in the first place. “I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis. I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidhood, and join the Hunt.”

“I accept,” Artemis said, sounding proud.

Suddenly Thalia looked… different. The same way Bianca and Zoë did—like they were surrounded by moonlight. Basking in it. She was glowing—just enough to make Percy feel like something was different about her. He wondered whether it was the immortality or some kind of a blessing from Artemis. Maybe both.

And then the girl turned to face Percy. He thought she would look at Annabeth, perhaps, but she locked eyes with him and he raised an eyebrow at her, slightly confused. “I must join the Hunt, Percy,” she said, like she had to justify it to him of all people. “I haven’t known peace since… since Half-Blood Hill.”

“When you came back from being a tree, right?” he guessed.

She smiled at him for the first time. “I finally feel like I have a home. But you’re a hero—I’ve seen it myself. You will be the one of the prophecy.”

He stared at her. “The prophecy that says I might doom the gods? Great,” he grumbled.

She ignored him and went over to Annabeth and Grover, hugging the two of them. Annabeth tried hard not to cry—Percy assumed it was because her friend (the one she’d lost for a while) came back only to leave again. And Grover… the guy looked like he was going to pass out for a moment and Percy arched an eyebrow at him, which made the satyr flush and look away, grumbling under his breath to Percy’s amusement.

For a moment she lingered in front of Percy, looking at him thoughtfully without saying a word. And then she smiled again and offered him her hand to shake. He glanced down at it and then accepted it, feeling a little awkward. His body tingled from the close proximity to her, like the air around Thalia was buzzing with electricity.

Then Thalia walked away and stood next to Artemis. The goddess looked at her approvingly and then turned back to the gods. “Now for the Ophiotaurus,” she reminded them.

“This boy is still dangerous,” Dionysus said. “The beast is a temptation to great power. Even if we spare the boy—”

Percy smacked himself in the face, exasperated. Annabeth patted his back and Grover took his other side, looking nervous but understanding. At least he had two friends with him, Percy concluded. Things could have been worse. He could have died surrounded only by heartless gods.

Taking in a deep breath, Percy lifted his head and looked around at the gods. “No,” he pleaded. “Please, keep the Ophiotaurus safe. My dad—” he cringed a little and then glanced warily at his father who didn’t look upset at Percy bringing him into this. Gulping nervously, Percy decided that was a sign that he could continue. “My dad can hide him under the sea somewhere, or keep him in an aquarium here in Olympus. But you have to protect him.”

A god that hasn’t spoken yet—a rather ugly one, too—chimed in then. “And why should we trust you?”

“I was already on Kronos’s side for two years,” Percy reminded them. It probably wasn’t the best idea, but he kept on talking, anyway. His eyes locked on his father subconsciously and he searched his face to try and see what he was thinking. “And the only reason I joined him in the first place was because I had no other place to go. It only took me a few days to switch sides—I chose your side.”

“You chose the side of our other demigod children,” Athena corrected. “The ones from Camp Half-Blood.”

Percy shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s the same side,” he argued. She didn’t react to his words. “Besides, I’m only fourteen,” he pressed on, still staring at Athena who met his gaze coolly. “If this prophecy is about me, that’s two more years.”

“Two years for Kronos to deceive you,” the goddess said. “Much can change in two years, my young hero.”

“Mother!” Annabeth objected from his side.

Her mother didn’t look like it bothered her too much. “It is only the truth, child,” she said. “It is bad strategy to keep the animal alive. Or the boy.”

Luke could never meet Athena, Percy thought to himself, bitterness flowing through his veins as he stared disdainfully at the woman. He would have pointed at her as an example to all the other gods and their treatment even though she was just one of them. Cold hearted and, in a way, almost psychopathic.

She was the kind to make a plan and see it through. No unnecessary risks, no empathy, no remorse. She would get rid of the ones in her way if they were a threat, no matter how minor the threat was.

Percy definitely didn’t like her.

His father stood then, looking almost annoyed as his eyes glanced in Athena’s direction. Percy remembered Annabeth’s words about how Poseidon and Athena were rivals—if this was going to help him in this scenario, then he would take it.

“I will not have a sea creature destroyed, if I can help it,” he announced. “And I can help it.” He held out his hand and a trident appeared in it—a twenty foot long bronze shaft with three spear tips that shimmered with blue, watery light. Percy awed at it for a second before snapping out of it. “I will vouch for the boy and the safety of the Ophiotaurus.”

Percy blinked twice and then gaped at his dad. This… was a big risk.

Artemis straightened up and sent Percy a blank look. He would have flinched away from it, but her eyes were twinkling with mirth that was somewhat familiar to him. “I will vouch for the boy, as well,” she declared and Poseidon looked mildly surprised before he inclined his head in her direction, silently thanking her support. “Those really were some fine blue pancakes, Percy Jackson.”

He spluttered a little, face warming up quickly. Thalia was watching him, her eyebrow raised in a silent question. Annabeth was snorting into her hand to his right. Grover hummed in confusion and muttered something about how he was the only one out of the loop, as usual.

Zeus stood up abruptly and pointed at Poseidon, glaring at him. “You won’t take it under the sea!” he objected heatedly. “I won’t have that kind of bargaining chip in your possession.”

“Brother, please,” Poseidon sighed, looking tired, like he’s heard such protests from Zeus before and they were getting old. With how old the gods were, it wasn’t hard to imagine.

Annabeth and Grover winced when a shaft brimming with electricity appeared in Zeus’s hand, filling the room with the scent of ozone. Percy took a step back warily, eyeing the thing that had to be a lightning bolt. It didn’t look like a lightning bolt, but Percy also thought that Poseidon looked more like a random fisherman than a Sea God, so he didn’t judge.

“Fine,” Poseidon relented. “I will build an aquarium for the creature here. Hephaestus can help me. The creature will be safe. We shall protect it with all out powers. The boy will not betray us.” His eyes glanced down at Percy who tried not to shy away from the intense gaze. “I vouch for this on my honor.”

For a moment Zeus seemed to contemplate this. Then he turned to the other gods in the room. “All in favor?”

Percy’s eyes nearly bugged out when a lot of hands shot up. Artemis and Apollo brought up their hands faster than the others—except for Poseidon. Demeter, Hades, Hermes, Hera, Aphrodite, Hephaestus… They were all voting to keep him and the Ophiotaurus alive. Ares, Dionysus and Athena abstained but Percy frankly couldn’t care less.

“We have a majority,” Zeus decreed. “And so, since we will not be destroying these heroes…” He said it like he was a little disappointed. “I imagine we should honor them. Let the triumph celebration begin!”

“I tried to find you,” Grover said as Percy and he walked around the party on Olympus, trying not to stand in the way of the gods, goddesses, nymphs and whatnot. Percy was pretty shocked he was experiencing a party thrown by the gods after nearly getting smote, but he figured he should just roll with it quickly. “I mean, the Minotaur chased me a little and then realized you were gone and apparently I wasn’t smelly enough because he left.”

“Yeah, I killed him later,” Percy shrugged. He bowed his head a little at the sight of a nymph giggling at him nearby and sped up a little. Thankfully, Grover matched his steps without question. “But I did think you were gone. I mean, I haven’t heard from you since and I figured the Minotaur had left you since you were…”

Grover grimaced and looked at Percy like he needed him to understand. “I knew you weren’t dead,” he said. “Chiron thought you might be, but I know you—you’re too stubborn to just die.”

“You know me so well,” Percy joked.

His friend continued as if he couldn’t hear him. “There’s this thing I’ve been trying to do—I figured it wouldn’t hurt. It might help, actually. I tried to create an Empathy Link between us, but it’s like there was something blocking me from reaching you—”

Percy snorted. “That would be Kronos,” he said. “He hid me from the gods, too. My father couldn’t find me until I actually prayed to him.” He hesitated for a moment and then nudged Grover’s side lightly. “What’s an Empathy Link, anyway?”

“Oh!” Grover jumped and turned to Percy with a bright smile. “It’s this link that satyrs can form between themselves and another person. It’s really difficult and pretty dangerous, but if it works it allows us to communicate. Like, through dreams or thoughts, if you try hard enough. Shared thoughts, feelings… In theory, you should be able to tell when the other person is around…”

He raised an eyebrow at him. “What’s so dangerous about it, then?”

“Well, if one of us would have died…”

“Let me guess—the other one would have, too?”

Grover shrugged like it was no big deal, after all. “Well, either that, or you would end up in a vegetative state.”

Percy stared at him blankly. “I would’ve preferred just dying, G-man,” he said matter-of-factly. Then he hummed. “It does sound useful, though. Have you formed it with anyone else?”

“A satyr can only form it with one other person, Percy,” he explained. “And I kept on trying it with you because I was hoping eventually I’d find you. Besides, it’s kind of invasive. Annabeth and Thalia are great friends and all, but Thalia only came back last summer and she was… a lot to deal with and I wasn’t with her most of the time, and Annabeth was my friend, but she only got closer to me two years ago, when we went on a quest together. I didn’t really think she would be thrilled with the idea.”

He let the words sink in for a moment and then grinned and wrapped an arm around Grover’s shoulders the same way he used to do when they went to school together. It felt like going back in time or something.

Percy listened to the music the Muses were playing—it sounded different to each individual and right now it sounded like something that resembled one of the songs a kid at Yancy used to play nonstop from the dorm room next to Grover and Percy’s. They were driven crazy by it, but right now he sort of missed complaining about it together.

“Well, I’m your friend and I’m not planning on leaving any time soon,” Percy promised. Grover smiled ahead like he was enjoying the thought of it. “Anyway, you and Annabeth went on a quest?”

The satyr shrugged. “Yeah. To retrieve Zeus’s mater bolt—don’t ask, it was a whole thing. Annabeth volunteered to go because she hasn’t left camp for five years at that point. She was getting sick of it and Chiron finally let her leave. I… I left because I needed a success to get a searcher’s license and because I was really, really hoping that traveling would get us to bump into you again.”

“Oh,” Percy said lamely. Then he cleared his throat and looked away from Grover—someone who’s been, apparently, looking for him all this time. “What’s a searcher’s license?”

He listened as Grover told him about the god of the wild, Pan. A lost god that’s been gone for a really long time. Apparently satyrs kept on going out to search for him and bring him back. It was an important task that no satyr has returned from and Grover dreamed of doing the same (though… coming back was probably a part of his plan).

“I did set out to look for him. I got the license after that quest,” Grover went on. “But I ended up on an island in the Sea of Monsters and a Cyclops wanted to marry me and then eat me and… yeah, it was a whole thing. Annabeth and Clarisse got me out of it right in time, anyway.”

Percy stared at him for a moment or two and then huffed and shook his head. “Your life was definitely crazier than mine, dude,” he said while avoiding the eyes of a minor goddess. “I’ve been stuck mostly training every day with Luke for two years near a creepy sarcophagus with the essence of some dead Titan. That was not fun. Pretty boring most of the time, actually.”

Grover laughed. “Come on, there’s no way you just stayed put and didn’t mess something up for them,” he said.

“How do you think I met Bessie?”

“Can we talk for a moment about your atrocious skill of name-picking?”

“Atrocious? I think Bessie is a great name!” Percy protested with a bright grin on his face. “He definitely liked it,” he stated. Then his hand left Grover as he started rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Although I will admit that I gave it to him while thinking he was a girl.”

Grover bleated and bent over, laughing. Percy wrinkled his nose at him, pretending to be hurt as a few people turned to see what was going on. Ducking his head, Percy tried to hide a smile of his own. It was nice, just talking to Grover like nothing has changed. Although it did kind of make him fear the future because sure, he promised he’d stay around, but Kronos was tricky—he knew that much—and if he managed to somehow get Percy back…

Smile slipping away, Percy tapped his foot on the ground anxiously and glanced over his shoulder as if feeling the presence of Kronos right there, on Mount Olympus. It was ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it after spending such a long time close to the source.

“Hey, Grover?” Percy said.

His friend let out a few more chuckles but he still met Percy’s eyes questioningly. “Yeah, Perce?”

“That Empathy Link,” Percy said slowly, measurably. Grover straightened up and looked a little stunned now, like he wasn’t expecting that to come back up. “I know you said it was dangerous and that if one of us died, the other would, too…” He shuffled his feet a little. “But it still sounds pretty helpful, you know? I mean, if one of us gets… in some kind of trouble and we have no way of communication—”

Grover looked at him like he understood. And maybe he did—Percy still had a hard time remembering that satyrs could read emotions. Basically, Grover’s been able to tell whenever Percy had lied to him during their school year together and Percy had no idea.

“Do you want me to set it up?” Grover asked.

Percy bit his tongue, hesitant. “I mean, apparently there’s a huge prophecy that might be about me and I don’t know what it entails but it doesn’t sound good, so I might die soon or something, so I guess it’s kind of… really risky—”

“Right, I’ll try to form it, then.”

“You don’t have to.”

Grover just smiled at him for a moment before his eyes widened and he shoved his hand into the pocket of his ripped and pretty dirty jeans only to pull out a familiar figurine that made Percy’s heart sink a little. He said something to Percy—probably about how he held on to it like he was asked to, but Percy couldn’t hear anything.

Taking the little statue from Grover, he stared at it, confused as to who it was supposed to be (though the face of the statue was vaguely familiar and Percy just couldn’t remember who it was reminding him of) and why such a small object could bring on the death of someone.

It was… such a disaster, and Bianca caused it for her brother’s sake. Percy still remembered how upset Nico seemed to be at her for leaving him for the Hunters, but now he couldn’t help but stare at it and think this was much worse.

Bianca had left Nico twice. First to join Artemis and her maiden attendants, swearing off men, which included Nico himself. And then she tried to somehow make the pain lessen by getting something for Nico, as if to show him that she did care despite everything. Something that she was forbidden from taking, sadly. Which led to her death and her second departure from Nico.

Gods, he didn’t even know yet.

Closing his fist around the figurine, Percy smiled a little at Grover. “Thanks,” he said, shoving the statue into his pocket, where his pen was, and his friend’s eyes softened.

“Anytime, Percy,” he promised and then, as if feeling like he should give Percy some space, sprinted away while muttering excitedly about perfect utensils he could eat. Percy watched him with a raised eyebrow and then shook his head in slight amusement and moved along, searching through the crowd of people he didn’t know to try and find Annabeth—you know, a friendly face.

Unfortunately, Percy kept on running into random gods that seemed to think he’s actually some great hero because they kept on congratulating him and he had to squirm away from them with fake smiles in case he ended up offending one of them and ended up dead, anyway. In the distance he noticed Bessie swimming in his water sphere, clearly having a great time as minor gods and nymphs cooed at him or played with him.

“You won’t let me down, I hope,” a voice behind Percy said at some point.

He turned around in an instance, eyes wide, and found himself face to face with his father. Thankfully, now he was the size of a normal human and not a giant, but Percy still felt like his heart was pounding too quickly against his ribs. At least Poseidon was smiling, looking like he was mostly joking, like he trusted Percy already. If only Percy knew why that was, it would be great…

“Dad… hi,” Percy said awkwardly.

“Hello, Percy,” he said, a twinkle of pride in his eyes. “You’ve done well.”

Percy wanted to ask him what he was talking about—he couldn’t stand his ground against Atlas for long enough and instead dipped out of the fight. He couldn’t save Bianca from his own stupid plan. Zoë was dead… It felt like such a failure, really. The only good thing that came out of this entire thing was that Annabeth and Artemis were no longer trapped.

Instead, he just shuffled his feet a little and offered Poseidon an uncertain smile. “I’ll try,” he said. “To not let you down, I mean.”

His dad nodded like that was all he wanted to hear. Percy wasn’t sure such an answer was very satisfactory but he didn’t question the god. If he was having doubts about standing up to Percy now that the pressure was gone and the other gods weren’t all demanding to come to a decision on the spot… well, Percy frankly couldn’t blame him.

“Your friend Luke…” Poseidon said and Percy flinched a little but didn’t contradict him—he was close to Luke. At least… he used to be. Now it would be really awkward if the guy really was still alive and on Kronos’s side. “He once promised things like that. He was Hermes’s pride and joy,” he said. “Just bear that in mind, Percy. Even the bravest can fall.”

Was he trying to say that he didn’t actually trust Percy to keep his word? He wasn’t sure and he was even less sure he wanted to get into that right now. “Luke fell pretty hard,” he pointed out, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears. He swallowed thickly and then looked into Poseidon’s eyes—the same shade as his own. “Did he… I mean, is he…”

The god shook his head. “No, Percy,” he answered the unasked question. “He is not dead.”

“What?” Percy wasn’t sure whether he was relieved or not. It was a strange feeling in his chest, that’s for sure. Luke used to be his only friend for two years—of course he wouldn’t want him to die. But, then again, Luke was also the one keeping him from getting answers, from getting information about himself. He worked for someone who wanted to destroy the gods and, Percy was sure of it, humanity.

Kronos never gave Percy the impression that he truly cared about anyone other than himself and perhaps the other Titans.

“I believe Annabeth told you this,” his father said.

Percy flushed a little at the implication that the god in front of him was listening in on a private conversation he’d had with someone. Was he always listening? This was worse than an overbearing parent!

Clearly oblivious to Percy’s thoughts, Poseidon continued. “Luke still lives. I have seen it. His boat sails from San Francisco with the remains of Kronos even now. He will retreat and regroup before assaulting you again.” He said it in such a way, like he wanted Percy to understand that this time he was seriously Luke’s enemy. They weren’t on the same side—next time their paths crossed, Luke wouldn’t show mercy. “I will do my best to destroy his boat with storms, but he is making alliances with my enemies, the older spirits of the ocean. They will fight to protect him.”

“I know,” Percy admitted shamefully. “I’ve heard about it. Luke’s mentioned a few things. I-I wanted to point it out earlier, but I wasn’t sure it was the right time for that…”

His dad hummed a little, sounding so casual and nonchalant that Percy got the impression that he didn’t hold it against him.

“How can Luke be alive?” Percy asked when his father said nothing. “That fall should’ve killed him.”

A troubled look appeared on the god’s face as he stared at something over Percy’s left shoulder, gaze distant. “I don’t know, Percy,” he ended up saying. Percy wondered how hard it was for a god to admit that he didn’t know the answer to something. “But beware of him. He is more dangerous than ever. And the golden coffin is still with him, still growing in strength.”

“What about Atlas? What’s to prevent him from escaping again? Couldn’t he just force some giant to take the sky from him?”

Poseidon snorted. “If it were so easy, he would have escaped long ago. No, my son.” The words made Percy’s heart beat a little faster and he tried not to outwardly show it. “The curse of the sky can only be forced upon a Titan, one of the children of Gaea and Ouranos. Anyone else must choose to take the burden of their own three will. Only a hero, someone with strength, a true heart, and great courage, would do such a thing. No one in Kronos’s army would dare try to bear that weight, even upon pain of death.”

“So only an idiot would choose to take it twice, then,” Percy mumbled under his breath.

It wasn’t quiet enough for Poseidon not to hear, though, because the god beamed at Percy like he was absolutely proud of him for those dumb choices. “You, Percy, took the sky twice and yet you still seem to doubt your worth.”

Shifting uncomfortably, Percy tried to change the direction the conversation was taking. “Luke did it,” he said quickly. “He let Atlas go. Then he tricked Annabeth into saving him and used her to convince Artemis to take the sky.”

“Yes,” his father agreed. “Luke is… an interesting case. And in any case, Luke’s choices were very different from yours, my son,” Poseidon continued and Percy internally flinched when he realized the god wasn’t taking the bait to talk about something else. “He took the sky to trick someone else into doing it. He used your friend to lure Artemis into this position. You, on the other hand, took the sky twice to help someone else, be it Annabeth or your friends who needed a chance against a Titan.”

“Big difference…” Percy couldn’t help but muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “In the end, it’s the same action, isn’t it? It’s just the motive that’s different. It doesn’t really change much.”

His father hummed thoughtfully. “When two armies fight each other, they do the same action as well. And yet their motives are the reason why they fight each other and not alongside one another.” He nodded to himself, as if that was a perfect analogy in his opinion. “The reason you chose to do something changes everything, Percy.”

He didn’t understand Poseidon’s point all the way, but he decided not to argue. This conversation was going to drive him mad, anyway.

Percy kind of hoped Poseidon would say more about Luke, though, and what he meant when he said he was a n interesting case, but then Bessie mooed from his place and they both turned to see people throwing the sphere from one another, like they were playing catch with Bessie as the ball.

“I’d better take care of that,” his father said, sounding kind of annoyed now. “We can’t have the Ophiotaurus tossed around like a beach ball.” He looked back at Percy, that pride from earlier shining in his eyes, along with more trust than Percy felt like he deserved. “Be good, my son. We may not speak again for some time.”

“W-wait! Tyson—”

“He is waiting for you,” the god said.

He gave Percy one last look and then vanished.

Frowning a little at the thought of his Cyclops brother just sitting at the same place, waiting for Percy to show up, Percy turned to search through the crowd for Annabeth again when he found himself standing face to face with the last goddess he wanted to talk to.

“Your father takes a great risk, you know,” she said, voice rather emotionless.

Percy hoped he didn’t look as annoyed and bitter as he felt. “Athena,” he said. He was pretty sure that if his expression didn’t give it away, then his voice sounding slightly resentful definitely did.

The goddess smiled dryly at him. “Do not judge me too harshly, half-blood,” she said. “Wise counsel is not always popular, but I spoke the truth. You are dangerous.”

He stared into her gray eyes—so similar to Annabeth’s, and yet, at the same time, so different. Less expressive, more closed-off and distant. “I never thought the gods would be scared of me,” he noted. “You never take risks?”

“I concede my point,” Athena said, nodding. “You may perhaps be useful. And yet… your fatal flaw may destroy us as well as yourself.”

“My fatal flaw?” Percy asked, utterly confused now.

She looked down at him like he was a sad story she had to read. Percy wasn’t sure whether to feel better at the evidence that this goddess could feel emotions or scared because she was looking at him with an almost apologetic look.

“Kronos knows your flaw, even if you do not,” she informed him. Percy quirked an eyebrow at her. He had no doubt that Kronos would know important things about him, but he was seriously lost on this conversation so far. “He knows how to study his enemies—and his allies. Think, Percy. How has he manipulated you? He made sure you were brought to him with no ties connecting you to anyone else. He made you dependent on Hermes’s child, forbidding you from speaking to other demigods.”

“So?”

Athena looked like she wanted to roll her eyes at him. “Would you or would you not have done anything in your power to help Luke in case he was in trouble before your mindscape switched?”

He frowned. “Of course I would’ve—he was my friend.”

Her lips tugged up into a small smirk. “I have seen you on this quest. Helping my daughter, being kind to Artemis, informing the people who were supposed to be your enemy to keep someone you cared for safe, holding up the sky twice to help someone else who was stuck underneath it… Your fatal flaw is personal loyalty, Percy. To save a friend, you would sacrifice the world. In a hero of the prophecy, that is very, very dangerous.”

He wasn’t convinced, to be honest. So what if he wanted to help the people who were nice to him? The ones he sort of called friends? He was just… you know… a nice person or something, right? Though, he realized, a nice person wouldn’t give information to the enemy to save a captive that was definitely supposed to stay. A nice person wouldn’t help in any way possible to get a quest done when it wasn’t supposed to be any of his business.

Okay, maybe she had a point… but still.

“That’s not a flaw,” Percy protested. “Just because I want to help my friends—”

“The most dangerous flaws are those which are good in moderation,” Athena cut him off. “Evil is easy to fight. Lack of wisdom… that is very hard indeed.”

Percy narrowed his eyes at her, annoyed that he couldn’t find anything to say to argue her point. Other than maybe claim his fatal flaw wasn’t loyalty. How could she be so sure about it, anyway? It could literally be anything, right?

Seeing as he didn’t have anything else to say, Athena went on. “I hope the Council’s decisions prove wise. But I will be watching, Percy Jackson. I do not approve of your friendship”—she said the word like it was poison in her mouth and Percy kind of wanted to say it was probably more than friendship, but he decided that shutting up would be the wise thing to do this time—“with my daughter. I do not think it wise for either of you. And should you begin to waver in your loyalties…”

The cold look she aimed at him made Percy shudder. He already knew Athena would be a horrible foe. He definitely didn’t want to get on her bad side. Yet, he realized, he was already on her bad side by simply being Annabeth’s friend.

“Percy!” Annabeth’s voice reached his ears and he finally noticed her running through the crowd to reach him. She stopped in her tracks when her eyes fell on her mother, though. “Oh… Mom.”

“I will leave you,” Athena said, already striding away. “For now.”

They both watched her retreating back before Annabeth turned to him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Was she giving you a hard time?”

He shifted a little uneasily and tried to smile at her. “No. It’s… fine,” he lied.

It wasn’t very convincing and he knew that, but he still didn’t offer anything more and Annabeth studied him for a few moments before her hand came up to brush against the gray streaks in his hair. He found himself leaning into the touch without even thinking about it.

Athena had warned him not to waver in his loyalties. She’d said she didn’t approve of Percy and Annabeth being close. But with Annabeth’s eyes on his, he couldn’t find it in him to care.

“You’re alive,” she pointed out.

“You don’t have to sound so surprised about it,” he grumbled but took her hand anyway.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “You were already on thin ice and you still chided the gods,” she said. “I think I’m entitled to sound surprise.”

She had a point. Still, Percy grinned at her and shrugged. “Did I forget to mention that I’m pretty impertinent? Because I am. I definitely am. Putting me with all-powerful gods is probably a terrible idea on your part—just saying.”

“Well, at least it’s going to be interesting when we get to camp and you officially meet Dionysus,” she said, smiling despite herself.

“The guy that wanted me dead? Oh, yeah. Can’t wait.” He yawned tiredly and a second later Annabeth did the same. “Wanna go sit down and rest?”

“Gods, that sounds perfect.”

So they ended up sitting near a fountain and Percy found himself nodding off a little every few minutes to the sound of the slow song of the Muses, his head resting on Annabeth’s shoulder as he watched the crowd of the party. Grover passed by a couple of times, murmuring something about coffee and Pan, for some reason, and Percy pretended not to notice the glares Annabeth sent toward every single one of the people who turned to look at Percy with a flirtatious gleam in their eyes.

It was pretty relaxing. And perfect.

Chapter Text

Okay, returning to camp was a lot less relaxing. First, there was Percy’s conversation with Chiron. It felt a little awkward because Percy couldn’t stop seeing him as his old teacher that suddenly had four legs and a tail. Chiron was glad to see him again, of course, and Percy was kind of happy he got to find his old, favorite teacher once more.

But then Nico entered the room, eyes bright like the world was all good, and as his eyes fell on Percy and he started fussing over the fact that Percy was real and not a dream or some kind of hallucination, Percy’s heart dropped because he realized there was no way Nico would have looked that way had he heard about Bianca’s death.

And the thing was, Percy was the one who ended up taking Nico for a walk to tell him, try to explain to him what had happened. He gave the boy the figurine that was the catalyst to all of this and spoke in the hopes of somehow softening the blow, hoping against all odds that Nico wouldn’t take the news in any drastic way. This should have definitely been a task for some older camper—someone who wasn’t extremely new at this, and yet…

Well, with Percy’s awkward stammers and Nico only being ten, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the boy ended up exploding angrily at Percy, accusing him of being the reason that Bianca was dead. Which was something Percy already knew, yet it still hurt more than he thought it would to hear it from Nico.

Percy’s body was shaking by the time Nico threw the toy away like he didn’t want to touch it ever again. This was Bianca’s last gift to him—Percy had to give it to him. Nico needed this. He needed this. And yet, Nico just dropped it like it meant nothing and the ground cracked where it landed, shocking Percy. And then he stormed off into the forest, Percy screaming his name and running after him only to get lost between the trees, looking desperately around to try and spot the little kid that he’d ended up failing.

Nymphs came out of their trees to show Percy back to camp when he couldn’t seem to even find a way to return back to the one place he figured he should return to. He thanked them numbly as he made his way back only to nearly slip over the statue that was still there, next to the crack in the floor that shouldn’t have been there.

Picking up the figurine, Percy stared at it for a moment, two. Then his eyes widened because it was only a game, but the face of this statue… the face carved there was familiar to him. It belonged to one of the gods that hasn’t said a word. A god that sat in the corner, looking rather grumpy and out of place.

Hades. The god, Percy realized as he stared at the crack in the floor, that ruled the Underworld. The dead. The riches under the ground, because the ground itself was sort of his. So if Nico cracked it… if Nico could somehow use such a power… Was it only a coincidence that this was the statue he needed to complete his set? Zoë has mentioned before that Bianca was a strong demigod, but this was…

He frowned and shoved the statue into his pocket. He needed to find Nico, first. And for that he needed the help of people who actually knew the forest.

“We have to tell Chiron,” Annabeth said.

Percy perked his head immediately and stared at her in horror. “No,” he argued.

Grover and Annabeth stared at him for a moment, looking like they weren’t sure what was going through his mind and whether they even wanted to try and find out. “Um,” Grover said, shuffling his hooves a little. “What do you mean… no?”

Grover, Annabeth and he kept on looking for Nico in the woods for hours at that point and there was still no sign of him. The kid was gone as if he was never even there in the first place. The only thing Percy found comfort in was that if there was a monster nearby… if Nico had encountered anything less than friendly between these trees, they would have probably found a body or something left of him.

There was nothing, though, and hours searching allowed Percy to think about their situation a little more. He’d already informed Grover and Annabeth that he realized Nico was a son of Hades. It startled them and made them look at each other with wide, horrified eyes, but Percy just urged them to look in the woods for the missing kid.

Because that was all Nico was, wasn’t it? A kid. A ten-year-old, wandering by himself in a place he probably didn’t know very well. A grieving kid, at that. He was fuming—especially at Percy—and he was all by himself and if they didn’t find him soon, things could become rather horrific, but Percy kept on coming back to the fact that Nico was a son of Hades and he was a kid and he could be another answer to that prophecy the gods and Annabeth had mentioned.

A child of the Big Three who will reach sixteen and would either save Olympus or destroy it with a single choice. Those were Annabeth’s exact words. It sounded like such a big deal and it frightened Percy to death that he might be the one the prophecy was talking about. He could understand why Thalia chose immortality—the chance to never reach sixteen—in order to avoid this prophecy. It was a lot to have riding on one’s shoulders.

But now Nico might be the one the prophecy would be about and Percy felt like the world was getting crueler and crueler the longer he lived in it because why would the Fates bring such a heavy burden onto the shoulders of a mourning kid? And how could Percy drag Nico back to camp only to force him to reveal his parentage to Chiron who would, undoubtedly, start training him intensely in order to prepare him for a future that would be Nico’s responsibility to save.

“If you end up getting to camp with Annabeth after they rescue her and Lady Artemis, will you… will you make sure my brother is okay?”

“Nico?”

“I won’t be able to stay here for long and he will not be able to join me. I don’t know the other campers here, but you… you seem okay. And you swore you’re not lying to me, so… so I just figured…”

“If I get to camp, I’ll try to keep an eye on Nico as much as I can.”

He’d promised. He’d promised Bianca he would do his best to protect Nico. Even before her death he would have kept this promise despite it being one of the only ones he didn’t actually make on that stupid river in the Underworld. Now that she was gone and there was really no one left behind to keep an eye on that kid… Percy had to make sure he stayed safe. And if that meant lying…

Focusing back on his two friends, Percy met their eyes determinedly. “We can’t let anyone know. I don’t think anyone realizes that Nico is a—”

“A son of Hades,” Annabeth finished for him. She eyed him suspiciously. “Percy, do you have any idea how serious this is?” she demanded. And she sounded a little condescending, which was probably kind of deserving since Percy wasn’t explaining himself and she’s been aware of this Great Prophecy for a while now. “Even Hades broke the oath! This is horrible!”

Grover lifted a hesitant hand, staring between the two of them nervously, like he wasn’t sure he should intervene, but he probably felt compelled to. “Actually, I don’t think Hades did,” he said.

Annabeth rounded on him. “What?”

“How can that be possible?” Percy asked. Nico was younger than Percy, after all. Bianca was younger than Percy, and Percy (not to mention Thalia) were basically not supposed to exist because of this oath. How could two younger kids not count as Hades breaking his oath?

“The Lotus Casino,” Grover explained. Percy had no idea what he was talking about but Annabeth’s eyes widened and she almost looked frightened for a moment. Turning to Percy, Grover explained. “There’s this casino and hotel in Vegas, see? And it uses some sort of magic to lure people in and keep them from leaving. It’s so perfect in there, you never want to leave. Kids stay there, never growing old, and they don’t even know how long they’re stuck in there. There were kids from the 70s in there that said they’ve been there for only a couple of week tops.”

“And… Nico and Bianca were there?”

Grover nodded. “Bianca said something during the quest. She made some weird comment about a subway that she didn’t remember existing and then she’d mentioned a hotel in Vegas. It wasn’t very hard to put two and two together. I have first-hand experience with that place, after all.”

Percy stared between the two of them uneasily. “You’ve been there? Both of you?” he asked. They shifted uneasily, as if remembering the feeling of staying in that place. Percy swallowed hard. “For how long? How did you get out?”

Looking displeased with herself, Annabeth waved her hand as if to shove those thoughts away. “It doesn’t matter right now,” she said and when Percy opened his mouth to argue, she added, “I’ll tell you later, Percy, okay? But we need to focus right now.”

His shoulder sagged a little, but he relented. “Fine. So Hades didn’t break the oath.”

“We don’t actually know how long Bianca and Nico have been there, though,” Annabeth noted.

“Okay, that doesn’t matter, alright?” Percy said. “Even if Hades did break the oath, it doesn’t change anything. I don’t think Nico understands who he is. But we can’t go telling anyone. Not even Chiron,” he added and Annabeth’s lips pressed together like she had some choice words to spit out but she was keeping them for later. “If the Olympians find out—”

Annabeth’s shoulders sagged a little. “It might start them fighting among each other again. That’s the last thing we need.”

“Not to mention how they already tried to vote on whether to kill Thalia and me simply for existing because they’re paranoid,” Percy said. “Nico doesn’t deserve that, too.”

Grover bit his lip anxiously. “But you can’t hide things from the gods,” he pointed out. Percy wanted to tell him that wasn’t true because apparently he’s been kept hidden from the gods for two years, but decided not to bring it up right now. It was Kronos’s doing, anyway, not some half-blood’s ability. “Not forever.”

“I don’t need forever. Just two years. Until I’m sixteen.”

At his words, Grover’s eyes widened in alarm and Annabeth paled.

“But, Percy,” Annabeth said, voice a little shaky now that she realized what he was saying. What he was implying. He hoped it wasn’t because of any sort of lack of trust because with him already not fully trusting himself to make the right decision when the time came, he really didn’t need Annabeth to feel the same way. “This means the prophecy might not be about you. It might be about Nico. We have to—”

“No.”

He shook his head. He remembered Luke’s pleas back when Thalia and Zoë made it to the top of the mountain. How he told Thalia to try and summon Bessie and how it obviously did nothing until Percy himself thought about the Ophiotaurus and started actually seeing him slowly appearing there. That wasn’t Thalia’s doing—that was all Percy.

And sure, it wasn’t an indicator that some old prophecy was actually about him of all people, but Percy decided it had to mean something, and even though he wanted nothing more than to push away the responsibility that came with being a son of Poseidon at this age, he couldn’t do what Thalia had done and somehow evade it by never turning sixteen. He had a grieving child to think of. A literal child that shouldn’t have to grow up thinking he was responsible for so much.

Huh. Maybe Athena was right, after all. Personal loyalty as a personal flaw suddenly made a little more sense than it did before.

Taking in a deep breath, Percy tried not to look frightened or absolutely crushed. “I choose the prophecy,” he said. Annabeth and Grover gaped at him like he was crazy. He wasn’t even sure prophecies worked this way—probably not—but he had to try. “It will be about me.”

“Why are you saying that?” Annabeth demanded. She looked more than frightened—like she was on the verge of tears. He wondered whether she knew the whole prophecy. And if she did, what kind of other details were in it that would scare her this much? “You want to be responsible for the whole world?”

She looked like she wanted to say something else, too, but then stopped herself in the last moment.

“I can’t let Nico be in any more danger,” Percy said almost pleadingly. He looked from Annabeth to Grover, hoping they would understand. “I owe that much to his sister. I… let them both down. I’m not going to let that poor kid suffer any more.”

“The poor kid who hates you and wants to see you dead,” Grover reminded him.

Percy sent a look over his shoulder, trying to see deeper into the woods that started darkening as the sun lowered in the sky. “Maybe we can find him. We can convince him it’s okay, hide him someplace safe.”

“If Luke gets hold of him—”

“Luke won’t.”

Percy frowned and thought about how Luke had convinced him to join him two years ago. It worked with Percy because he didn’t know the guy and there was nobody else for him to turn to. But Nico knew about Luke and he knew Bianca died because she tried to go against him and save someone she cared about from him and Kronos. He wouldn’t be able to fool Nico the same way.

Annabeth furrowed her eyebrows in concern. “He’s out there, Percy, and he might stumble upon Nico by accident and realize exactly who he is. He might drag him back with him and prevent him from escaping. If he finds Nico at any point, things would be seriously bad for us,” she said.

“I’ll make sure Luke has other things to worry about,” Percy said. It was the last thing he wanted to do—confront Luke and face him in any sort of way. He didn’t feel like he was ready for anything like that when he was so new to this side of the war, but he steeled himself. If this kept Nico safe… it was worth it. “Namely, me.”

Percy was getting ready to leave to find Tyson when Annabeth knocked on the door and entered the cabin without really waiting for a reply. He shoved a few dollar bills Chiron had given him when Percy told him where he was going and why (the fact that it was basically a task given to him by Poseidon must have helped convince the centaur that Percy had to leave), and then turned around to face her.

She was still pale. Or rather, she turned pale at seeing him, the same way she did since their conversation about Nico and the prophecy. Chiron didn’t look like he was buying their fabricated story about Nico (the crack in the floor caused by said demigod certainly didn’t help), but he didn’t argue with them, either, which was better than Percy floundering around for any other excuses. And Annabeth had kept quiet throughout the entire thing, like there was something else on her mind that she couldn’t let go of.

Every time she looked at Percy, her face drained of color. It kind of felt like she was constantly imagining him as either a monster or a corpse and it didn’t exactly lift his spirits but he tried not to bring it up and she definitely didn’t say anything unprompted. She just kept on hanging out with him as Percy got accustomed to camp and its activities. Her presence was pretty great, too, because every suspicious camper that looked at Percy and found Annabeth with him became that much more welcoming, like she was a stamp of approval in their eyes.

“Hey,” she said.

He smiled at her warmly and set his bag down on his bed. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Chiron said you were leaving.” She bit her lip. “Something about… finding a Cyclops brother of yours?”

“Tyson,” Percy confirmed. He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “I figured it was time I found him. Dad wanted me to, and Tyson was pretty excited to hear that he has a brother. It’s… weird,” he added sheepishly. “I’m not sure what to think about him, yet, but he was nice in my dream, so I hope it won’t be a complete disaster.”

Annabeth kept quiet for a few moments, still standing by the door, as if afraid to step any closer from fear of breaking something or trespassing. She had her arms crossed over her chest and her hair was sloppily tied up, but Percy still thought it was really pretty. He wasn’t going to tell her that, though—Annabeth would probably punch him if he did.

Eventually she bit her lip and then locked eyes with him. “I don’t have a good experience with Cyclops,” she admitted. When Percy hummed questioningly at her, she squirmed a little before explaining. “When Thalia, Luke and I tried to reach camp with Grover, I told you we took a couple of wrong turns. Well, one of them led us to a Cyclops’s lair. They can mimic voices perfectly and this one used it to lure us toward him. I tried to follow his voice, thinking he was Luke, and then I found Luke, Thalia and Grover tied up and the Cyclops getting ready to eat them.”

Percy frowned. “What did you do?”

“I stabbed him in the leg,” she said and he snorted but couldn’t help the look of admiration that crept onto his face. Annabeth was seven back then and she said it so casually, like it was no big deal. It was kind of awesome. “Then I cut off Thalia’s ropes and she took it from there. But I’ve hated Cyclops since then. If only we didn’t run into him… We could have made it to camp without losing Thalia, without the monsters catching up to us.”

“I get it,” he shifted a little on his legs, suddenly anxious. He tried to smile jokingly at her, but it came out as more of a grimace. “Is this your way of telling me I shouldn’t bring a Cyclops to camp?”

She finally stepped further into the cabin. Percy remembered Chiron telling him on his first day there that two kids of the opposite sex couldn’t be alone in a cabin. When Percy had asked him if it included the siblings at camp, Chiron acted like he couldn’t hear his question. Now, staring at Annabeth breaking the rules to talk to him, it kind of made Percy like her even more.

He met her halfway, offering his hands for her in case she wanted to hold them. In less than a second, Annabeth’s fingers started playing with his own, like she needed to do something but she had nothing better to fidget with. Frankly, he didn’t mind providing her some form of a distraction in the least.

“You asked how we got out of the Lotus Hotel and Casino,” she said suddenly. The change of topics kind of caught Percy off guard but he only raised an eyebrow at her.

“I did,” he said with a shrug.

Annabeth pursed her lips. “The thing is—at the time I had no idea who that man was. He just approached me out of nowhere while I was playing some game in the casino and he talked to me—don’t remember what it was about—and suddenly I could think more clearly. It was like he made my brain function again. Or at least, a part of it woke up enough to get me to notice that I was trapped.”

“So you don’t actually know who it was,” Percy deducted.

“I think I do know now.” She looked up from their hands and met his eyes. “He had the same eyes as you. I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out. It makes sense that he would have some kind of immunity to the magic of that place.”

Percy’s eyes widened a little as his heart skipped a beat. “Wait… you think my dad helped you?” He stared at her. “Why would he do that? How?”

“Grover and I were on a quest to retrieve Zeus’s master bolt at the time,” she said. Percy remembered Grover mentioning this before and nodded. “It was, technically, to get it back, but at the time he was accusing Poseidon of stealing it and they were going to start a war between themselves. We had to stop them, so we set out to try and find it before the deadline Zeus had given Poseidon to give the bolt back.”

He tried not to show how irritated he was on his father’s behalf. He hated being accused of things he didn’t do. And he honestly didn’t understand how Zeus could look at Poseidon and think he would steal from him. Still, he kept his mouth shut and gestured for Annabeth to keep on going.

“Well, I guess he helped us because we were about to miss the deadline if we stayed there any longer, and even though your dad was ready to go to war against Zeus, it wouldn’t have been pretty. He wanted us to get the bolt back in time to prevent this catastrophe,” she explained. “I guess that’s why he showed up.”

“But… what? Just talking to a god made the magic of that place lessen?”

“I don’t think so. I mean, maybe. I’m not sure. I only have a theory—”

Percy nudged her a little, grinning at her brightly. “Okay, share with the class, Wise Girl.”

Color came back to her face. She wasn’t blushing, exactly, but at least she was no longer as pale as a ghost, which was good. “You mentioned you were impertinent when we were back in Olympus—and I don’t doubt that it’s true—”

“Says the girl who’s breaking the camp’s rules to be here,” Percy smirked.

“The point is,” she continued, eyes twinkling with mirth now even though her expression was exasperated. Percy felt rather accomplished by that, to be honest. “I’m willing to bet it’s something you got from your father. I didn’t really talk to him that much, but he’s the god of the sea. And my mom’s mentioned something back then that I think might explain it—”

Percy tilted his head to the side. “She talked to you, too?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Yeah, before she found you, I was her victim.” She glared at the ground like it was at fault that her mom was so… cold. “She warned me about you. Of course she did—she would never like you with you being Poseidon’s son. I didn’t really listen that much, but she said how Poseidon was unruly and unpredictable like the sea, and how dangerous it could be if you were the same.”

He nodded, trying to look nonchalant about it. “I am—just like that, I mean,” he confirmed and Annabeth shook her head at him but smiled, nonetheless. Percy smiled back and then turned a little more serious. “Artemis had mentioned something like that to me, too. Only she didn’t make it sound like such a bad thing.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing, actually. Not always.” Annabeth shifted a little uncomfortably, like the next part was painful to even think about. He squeezed her hands and waited patiently. “I guess… it’s kind of scary to think about because Athena and her kids—including me—make plans. We like to rely on things that make sense to us, on predictable patterns. So to deal with someone you can’t predict the next move of…”

“Oh,” Percy bit the inside of his cheek uncertainly. “Yeah, okay, I get your point.”

He wondered why she was bothering staying anywhere near him if he was making her this uncomfortable by just acting in a way that she couldn’t foresee, but didn’t feel brave enough to bring it up. What if she just decided he was right and left? They haven’t exactly talked about what they were to each other or what was going to happen now that their situation was different than the one when they’d first met.

With Annabeth’s thing of turning pale around him all the time now, and with how they kept on spending time together but never went beyond holding hands or leaning against each other at the campfire, Percy honestly wasn’t sure what to think. It probably scared him just as much as his entire being scared Annabeth. He wished he could be predictable. If that was something that unnerved Annabeth, he didn’t want it.

And then she squeezed his hands and smiled at him and his worries subsided a little. “But it’s good, too. I don’t know how to deal with your impulses, yet,” she said, and her voice was soft now, like she knew he was freaking out internally. “But if I can’t predict your next move, then I bet Luke and Kronos would have a hard time dealing with you, too.”

“Oh, I didn’t really think of that,” he said and smiled a little. “I’m not sure that would work, and I don’t think I’m that bad”—he pointedly ignored her raised eyebrows—“but I’ll do my best to throw them off. Sounds like fun.”

“You’re ridiculous, Seaweed Brain.”

He grinned brightly at her. “Thanks, I try,” he said cheerfully. Then he steered the conversation back to the main topic. “Wait, so how did that help you in the casino? I still don’t get it.”

Annabeth blinked a few times, like she was trying to get back on track quickly. “Right. That,” she muttered to herself. “Sorry, I focused on the unpredictable thing, but I was going to say that your father’s like the sea in the way that… he doesn’t like abiding by rules. He’s wild and unrestrained and… you should know that, already—you’re like that, too.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Percy said innocently. “But you can continue.”

She slipped her hand out of his to slap his shoulder and he chuckled and caught it again. “Well, the point is that trapping someone like that is hard. I could tie you up and keep you locked away, and that would probably be effective. But trying to make your own mind trick you into staying someplace wouldn’t be as effective because you’re bound to want to do as you please rather than listen to someone else.”

“I thought you said it was my mind.”

“Percy!”

“Okay, okay, I think I got it. So, like, you think my dad managed to… what, expand this ability to you and Grover so that you’d be able to leave? Is that it?” he asked.

Annabeth shrugged. “I told you, it’s just a theory. It might be something completely different.” She glanced over his shoulder at the bed, where his bag was waiting for him to leave and get Tyson, or at least talk to the Cyclops and get to know him a little. Buy him some more peanut butter, perhaps. He would have to see how that meeting went. “The point is… your father is one of the more decent gods I’ve met, Percy, and he’s already helped me before, otherwise we never would have met and I’d still be stuck in that casino—”

“And I’d be bossed around by a Titan. Yeah, things could’ve been worse, I suppose.”

“So if he sent you to find a Cyclops and be his friend…” She took in a deep breath and glanced at the floor for a moment before she seemed to steel herself and went back to looking straight at Percy who smiled at her curiously. “I mean, your father clearly cares about you. He wouldn’t have sent you to someone who might kill you, right? So I’ll… give him the benefit of the doubt, I guess.”

He could tell this decision didn’t make her feel all that great about the situation, yet she was genuine—she had a pretty awful experience with a Cyclops before, yet she was going to try and be at least civil toward Tyson if Percy succeeded in getting him back to camp. The other campers… they would be more problematic, but he figured that with Annabeth on Tyson’s side they might warm up to him faster.

Of course, Percy wasn’t even sure how he would deal with Tyson, but that was something he would surely discover later on, when Tyson was actually a part of his life and not just a figment from one of his realistic dreams granted by the gods or whoever it was that gave demigods strange and vivid dreams.

“Thanks,” Percy said. “But it’s not like you’ll have to force yourself to be around him. I don’t even know how this thing is going to go. I mean, I’ve met him once for about a minute.” He shuffled nervously in place and ruffled his hair a little, anxious to move a little to expel the tension in his body. “This is going to be… interesting.”

She shrugged and then let go of his hands as she took a couple of steps toward the door of the cabin. “Well, I’m coming with you, so you’re going to have to wait for me to get a bag, too.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Y-you are?”

“Sure,” she said with a shrug, eyes twinkling. “For moral support.”

Percy looked at her skeptically and snorted. “You’re planning on being there to attack in case he does something, aren’t you?” he said in amusement.

“Yeah, okay. That, too.” Annabeth smirked and finally turned her back on him to pull open the door. “Meet you next to Thalia’s tree in five minutes?”

He grinned.

“Five minutes,” Percy agreed and she sent him one last look over her shoulder and then ran off toward the Athena cabin to get ready to leave for New York.

Shouldering his own backpack, Percy took one last glance around the cabin—his cabin, one that he wasn’t sharing with any siblings (for now, at least). One that, like his room back at Mount Tamalpais, had the scent of the ocean all over it until it clung to Percy as well (thought Grover had mentioned how Percy already smelled like the ocean, anyway).

It was all so different from his life only a month ago that Percy sort of had a bad time trying to understand how everything has changed in less than a week. He wasn’t sure who to thank here. Annabeth, Artemis, his father… He wasn’t sure which factor was the deciding one. If he had taken a variable out of the equation, which one would make the result different? What actually made him leave?

Unless it was more than one thing. Unless he had made his choice because he had more than only one reason to reconsider his place in the world.

Whatever it was that made his world tilt on its axis, he was thankful for it as he made his way out of the cabin and toward the big pine tree that stood proudly on top of Half-Blood Hill.