Chapter Text
I am the spirit of Delphi, the voice said. Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.
The Oracle regarded me with its cold, dead eyes. Then she turned unmistakably towards Zoë Nightshade. Approach, Seeker, and ask.
Zoë swallowed. "What must I do to help my goddess?"
The Oracle’s mouth opened, and green mist poured out. I saw the vague image of a mountain, and a girl standing at the barren peak. It was Artemis, but she was wrapped in chains, fettered to the rocks. She was kneeling, her hands raised as if to fend off an attacker, and it looked like she was in pain.
Then suddenly, the image...glitched. There was the sound of thunder, and a crack split through the image, covering Artemis' face.
She gasped and spat, black flies falling from her mouth, turning her still-obscured face upwards to speak;
“Five shall go west to the archer in chains,”
“One shall be lost in the land without rain,”
“The bane of Olympus shows the trail,”
“Campers and Hunters combined prevail,”
“The Titan’s Curse must one withstand,”
“The sun or stars, the Huntress sees her end.”
“This is Atlas’s mountain,” Zoë said. “Where he holds–” She froze. Her voice was ragged with despair. “Where he used to hold up the sky.”
We had reached the summit. A few metres ahead of us, grey clouds swirled in a heavy vortex, making a funnel cloud that almost touched the mountaintop, but instead rested on the shoulders of a seventeen-year-old boy with golden hair, cracks running along his skin and tattered silver Hunter garb: Apollo in his sister’s clothes, his legs bound to the rock with celestial bronze chains.
This is what I had seen in my dream. It hadn’t been a cavern roof that Apollo was forced to hold. It was the roof of the world.
“IT’S A TRAP!” Apollo yelled. His voice was strained. He was drenched in sweat. I’d seen a god in pain once, briefly—Ares, but that was nothing compared to the way Apollo’s shoulders shook, the weight of the sky too much for him. “Zoë—you have to choose me! Choose the sun and-”
A booming voice spoke behind us; “You dislike him, don’t you? You won’t listen.”
We turned. The General was standing there in his brown silk suit. At his side were Luke and half a dozen dracaenae bearing the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. Annabeth stood at Luke’s side. She had her hands cuffed behind her back, a gag in her mouth and Luke was holding the point of his sword to her throat.
I met her eyes, trying to ask her a thousand questions. There was just one message she was sending me, though: RUN!
“Luke,” Thalia snarled. “Let her go.”
At the same time, I heard Apollo beg Zoë again; “You have to—you’ll die if you don’t! Please!” He sounded nothing like how he had when we first met—all smiles and airs dropped and gone. He was desperate to relieve the burden of the sky even if that meant Zoë took it.
Luke’s smile was weak and pale. He looked even worse than he had three days ago in D.C. “That is the General’s decision, Thalia. But it’s good to see you again.”
Thalia spat at him.
The General chuckled. “So much for old friends. And you, Zoë. It’s been a long time. How is my little traitor? I will enjoy killing you.”
“Do not respond,” Apollo hissed, panic thick in his voice. “Don’t challenge him!”
“Wait a second,” I said. “You’re Atlas?”
The General glanced at me. “So, even the stupidest of heroes can finally figure something out. Yes, I am Atlas, the general of the Titans and terror of the gods. Congratulations. I will kill you presently, as soon as I deal with this wretched girl.”
“You’re not going to hurt Zoë,” I said. “I won’t let you.”
The General sneered. “You have no right to interfere, little hero. This is a family matter.”
I frowned. “A family matter?”
“Yes,” Zoë said bleakly. “Atlas is my father.”
“AND THAT DOESN’T MATTER!” Apollo yelled again. “You are not your father, Zoë—do the smart thing and let me fight him BECAUSE YOU WILL DIE!”
In the dream Artemis guided me through, Apollo had willingly taken the sky from Annabeth, which didn’t match up with how he was insisting to be free now-specifically wanting Zoë to hold the sky in his place. He was still pulling the helpful angle, and while I was sceptical, did we really have a choice? Apollo was a god. He was our best chance at winning—as long as, of course, we suitably grovelled and even then, how many fingers was he willing to lift?
The horrible thing was: I could see the family resemblance—and I wasn’t so happy about Zoë fighting Atlas instead either as the other choice. Atlas had the same regal expression as Zoë, the same cold, proud look in his eyes that Zoë sometimes got when she was mad, though on him it just looked evil. He was all the things I’d originally disliked about Zoë, with none of the good I’d come to appreciate.
“Let Apollo go,” Zoë demanded.
Atlas walked closer to the chained god. “Perhaps you’d listen and take the sky for him, then? Be my guest.”
Zoë’s eyes narrowed. My stomach sunk. If Artemis had been captured instead of Apollo posing as her, would Zoë hesitate? Probably not.
Apollo opened his mouth to speak again, but his head was thrown back as Atlas swiftly backhanded him. Apollo’s head lolled, and he coughed, before he tried to spit on Atlas’ loafers—the Titan moving out of the way just in time. I spotted a strange stain on the cracked marble close to where Atlas had been standing. With how Atlas moved away as quickly as possible, it didn't seem like Apollo had been respectful.
“I think I will have all the Olympians take turns carrying my burden, once Lord Kronos rules again, and this is the centre of our palace. It will teach those weaklings some humility—not that this one has learnt just yet.” Apollo isn’t fazed by the Titan’s glare, and…honestly I don’t know what to think anymore.
I looked at Annabeth. She was desperately trying to tell me something. She motioned her head towards Luke. But all I could do was stare at her. I hadn’t noticed before, but something about her had changed. Her blonde hair was now streaked with grey.
“From holding the sky,” Thalia muttered, as if she’d read my mind. “The weight should’ve killed her.”
“I don’t understand,” I said. “Why can’t Apollo just let go of the sky?”
Atlas laughed. “How little you understand, young one. This is the point where the sky and the earth first met, where Ouranos and Gaia first brought forth their mighty children, the Titans. The sky still yearns to embrace the earth. Someone must hold it at bay, or else it would crush down upon this place, instantly flattening the mountain and everything within a hundred leagues. Once you have taken the burden, there is no escape.” Atlas smiled. “Unless someone else takes it from you.”
///
I reached down and felt Riptide back in my pocket. I couldn’t fight Atlas, even with a sword. And then a chill went down my spine. I remembered the words of the prophecy: The Titan’s curse must one withstand. I couldn’t hope to beat Atlas. Unfortunately, Apollo was right. He was the only one who stood a chance.
“The sky,” I told the god. “Give it to me.”
Apollo shook his head, another crack spiderwebbing up his bronze skin. Golden light seeped through, like his godly essence was dripping out. “No, Percy—the sun or the stars. If you take the sky Zoë will die! The stars are her fate—her death if she doesn’t pick me!”
I didn’t really get it. Atlas wasn’t the Titan of the stars, as far as I knew, so how had Apollo made the jump to her death? Still, coming from the god of prophecy himself, it was terrifying. I wanted to pretend he was lying.
He might not have been, but Zoë would never listen.
“Then protect her properly,” I said. “Don’t stand by.”
I didn’t wait for his answer. I took out Riptide and slashed through his chains. Then I stepped next to him and braced myself on one knee – holding up my hands – and touched the cold, heavy clouds. For a moment, Apollo and I bore the weight together. It was the heaviest thing I’d ever felt, as if I were being crushed under a thousand trucks. I wanted to black out from the pain, but I breathed deeply. I can do this.
Then Apollo slipped out from under the burden, and I held it alone.
Afterwards, I tried many times to explain what it felt like. I couldn’t.
Every muscle in my body turned to fire. My bones felt like they were melting. I wanted to scream, but I didn’t have the strength to open my mouth. I began to sink, lower and lower to the ground, the sky’s weight crushing me. For a brief moment.
Then Apollo rejuvenated me.
Golden light seeped from him into me, like the auras of immortality and youth Artemis granted her Hunters. The sky didn’t get lighter. I just found more strength to hold it.