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Movies made hostage situations look like too much fun.
Piper could remember when she was younger, and she’d sweet-talked her dad into bringing her to watch him on set, and he’d been filming a scene where he, the rugged, sarcastic action hero, rescued a dozen hostages from a bank robber. She’d been amazed; the quips flew back and forth at light speed between her dad and his bad guy, until one brave hostage pulled the fire alarm. The bad guy was distracted, and her dad lifted his gun, and nailed the villain in the chest with a foam dart.
Ugh, foam darts. If only these weapons were made of foam.
There was a blade tucked under Piper’s chin, resting firmly and uncomfortably against her throat. One peep out of her, her assailant had threatened, and the crew of the Argo II would be getting a fun science lesson on what vocal cords looked like when ripped out.
Piper had never liked science.
Their attackers had them all gathered on deck, each with various weapons aimed at various vital organs. Leo was covered in soot and soaking wet, and Piper’s anger flared when she saw the rope around his neck; not quite tight enough to choke, but the threat was clear. Jason was being forced to kneel next to her, hands tied behind him and swords inches from his face. Hazel was tied up, back to back with Frank, the two of them tossed on the deck like luggage.
Annabeth…Annabeth was snarling in fury, arms held behind her and mouth gagged, but that didn’t stop the muffled insults and curses she was spewing. The leader of the group that had boarded them thrust his sword at her throat, and she fell silent. If looks could kill, though, the guy would be sleeping with the fishes.
The pirates and their demigod hostages had been positioned so they were circled around the only one not restrained in some way: Percy. He’d been watching quietly with eyes that knew too much and a scowl that set Piper’s hair standing on end.
As the sword grew close to Annabeth’s neck, though, Percy growled. Like, Piper thought Frank turned into a bear, growled. She didn’t know throats could make that noise.
“Ah, ah, ah,” the leader tutted, turning and waving a finger at him. “A single word from you ensures she’ll never say one again.”
Percy kept his mouth shut, but his eyes did the talking. Furious green whirlpools glared into the leader’s soul, promised pain and torment and despair if he continued. It was a green Piper had never seen before—of that, she was certain. No matter how many times she had looked at the sea, had played in the waves, had swum in tides, she had never incurred the ocean’s wrath.
And this green was wrath. It was the cold of the waters, the dark of the trenches, the crushing pressure of the deep. It was every hidden threat lurking in the ocean, every predator and creature and monster. It was razor-sharp teeth and powerful claws and the mesmerizing, solitary light in the infinite darkness that you huddled around until suddenly it was gone and a dark, gaping maw with rows of serrated fangs closed around you.
The leader’s sword backed off an inch and he swallowed nervously. “Perhaps an introduction is necessary.” He laid a hand on his chest. “Dicaearchus of Aetolia,” the pirate captain declared with a low, sweeping bow.
“So,” Percy drawled, “should I call you Dick?”
“Oh, how clever, I’ve never heard that one before,” Dicaearchus muttered with a sneer. “Yes, I suppose you could call me Dick, young man, if my whole name is too hard for you to pronounce.” Dick rolled his hand at Percy, prompting him on. “And you are?”
“Don’t you know that already, Dick?” Percy asked. “There are only so many people I can be, and a well-informed pirate commander like yourself should be able to hazard a pretty accurate guess by now.”
Dick raised an eyebrow. “Cockier in person, aren’t you?”
“I wouldn’t call it that,” Percy argued. “Insolent, sure. Sarcastic. Impertinent. Annoying.”
“I can agree with that last one,” Dick huffed with an eye roll thrown in for good measure.
“Why am I the only one not tied up, Dick?” Percy asked. “Guy as smart as you has to know losing a fight in front of your crew isn’t the best play.”
“I do know that, thank you,” Dick sniffed. “When I see a losing fight, I’ll be sure to stay out of it.” Percy smirked. “You are free, Jackson,” he said, pointing his sword at Percy, “because I’ve heard of you.”
“So you’re either stupid, or arrogant. Maybe both,” Percy bit.
“I believe we are thinking of two different sides of your reputation, boy. I speak not of your physical prowess, your legendary skill in combat, your incredible strength.” Piper’s jaw dropped, the bottom of her chin brushing against the cold steel of the blade at her throat. Sure, she’d heard rumors and stories and tales at Camp, but she hadn’t thought they’d spread farther than that.
“I speak,” Dick continued, “of your…bravado. Your attitude. You’ve fought gods, and won. Killed Titans. Sure, you may have picked the wrong side in the Titan War,” Percy’s expression darkened, “and, ah, Mother Earth, shall we call her, well, she’s more of a ‘destroy the world’-type villain, and you don’t want to get involved with those, but…” Dick shook his head. “Rumors spread. You don’t need the Titans, do you? You’re too strong to need them.”
Piper wasn’t the only one eyeing Percy nervously. Every single one of them had heard stories. Hazel had told them of the time Percy fell off a glacier, took an army of ghosts with him, and got back up afterward, perfectly fine. Frank shared with them about how Percy killed Polybotes at New Rome and the only help he had was from a statue of a god.
There were stories at Camp, too. How he’d made a mini hurricane in the middle of Central Park. How he collapsed a bridge, taking an entire army down, and a few allies, too. How Annabeth returned home from one of their quests alone, covered in soot, and in tears; no one can be sure exactly what happened, but the eruption had been so violent, the environment was still in recovery.
He and Annabeth both had held the sky.
And those were only the stories they’d heard.
“I build two temples,” Dick continued. “Every time I make land, I build temples to my muses: Asebeia, and Paranomia. Do you know them?” Percy’s gaze flicked to Annabeth. She stared back, tears welling up in her eyes. There was a story there, too, one Piper didn’t know.
“I do,” he said. Dick nodded, urging him on. “Godlessness, and lawlessness.”
“In their basest terms,” Dick grinned. “Doesn’t it sound fantastic? A world without the gods? A world of anarchy?”
“I can’t say no,” Percy replied. Piper’s heart dropped. “But—“
“Why does there have to be a ‘but’?” Dick asked. “If you join my crew, we can make that a reality. I myself happen to be a fairly decent strategist, and I’ve handpicked my crew for their talents. But you? You would turn the tide. You are…dare I say, strength incarnate. The gods would be dead in days. Hours, even.”
Percy raised an eyebrow. “That’s why you’re here, tying up my friends? To invite me to join you in your little crusade against the gods?”
Dick shrugged. “Why not? You could say no, but I hold all the cards in my hand.” He swept his hands out dramatically, and the weapons threatening the demigods pressed closer. Dick’s sword once again found its way to Annabeth’s neck. “See, I have leverage. You can pretend to turn against the gods under duress, and then we shove off and have fun plotting their downfall!”
“What if I say no anyway?” Percy asked, eyes glued to Dick’s blade.
“You lose a crew member, and I repeat my sales pitch,” Dick stated simply. “Would you like to choose which one?”
“You’re not killing anyone,” Percy spat. The air around him grew heavy and misty and humid.
“Aren’t I?” And Piper couldn’t stop the scream that ripped through her as Dick swung his sword at Annabeth’s neck. Over the blood rushing in her ears, she could hear Hazel’s cries as well, along with the boys’ shouting.
Percy was silent. His wrath-green eyes narrowed, his mouth falling into a sneer. He threw a hand out, and just before Dick’s sword met flesh, he froze. Annabeth cried out against her gag, but instead of looking at the sword that almost killed her, she was looking at Percy.
Percy, who sauntered up to Dick like nothing was wrong. He leaned in. “I’ve seen true godlessness and anarchy,” he snarled. “That’s all there is in Tartarus. And, sure, I can’t say I missed the gods for a second, but anarchy? You’ve never seen true anarchy. It’s a system that only serves the strong. In a second, you can go from predator to prey. Weakness means death, and pain, and torment.”
“You come on my ship,” Percy hissed, “preaching to me about being strong? You know nothing of strength. You think all you need to be strong is some leverage, some weapons, and a smile. My strength? My strength is the ocean. I rise and fall with the tides. I am as cold and cruel and unforgiving as the waters. All sailors know to fear the sea, and the sea is me.”
Percy laughed, and angry waves roared in Piper’s ears. His grin was too sharp, too full of too many teeth, too sadistic to fit on Percy’s face, and yet, there it was. “Go to Tartarus,” Percy spat. “See your muses for yourself. I don’t think you’ll like them very much after that.”
Dick let out a wheeze. Piper frowned and searched his face for a sign that something was wrong. She found one. His eyes—the whites of his eyes were pink, veins spread throughout like waves in an ocean. As she watched, more small bursts of red joined the pink and white. Blood dripped from the pirate captain’s nose, and not even a second later, he collapsed.
Percy turned in a circle, eyes leveled at Dick’s crew. As Piper and the others watched, they dropped their weapons before turning mechanically and walking to the rails. Hazel shrieked as they climbed over, and threw themselves into the ocean.
Annabeth fell to her knees, hands scrabbling at her gag, ripping it off and crying, “You promised, Percy.” Annabeth sobbed, eyes glued to the lifeless body on the deck. “You promised.”
“I did,” Percy replied softly. He squatted next to Annabeth and put a hand on her shoulder. “And I would break that promise every gods-damned day if it meant keeping you safe.” He stood up and walked away, leaving Annabeth crying on the deck. Percy went around to each of them, cutting ropes with Riptide and giving them a once-over to make sure they were relatively unharmed.
He ruffled Hazel’s hair. He asked Frank, “Firewood?” and nodded when Frank gave him a thumbs up. He poked Leo in the chest, and in an instant his clothes and hair were dry. He slashed Jason’s restraints and helped him up.
Percy stopped in front of Piper and sliced the ropes binding her wrists. “Good?” He asked. Piper nodded wordlessly. Percy nodded in reply.
“What—“ Frank swallowed hard, staring at the rails. “What was that?”
“That, Frank,” Percy said, pointing at the body in front of Annabeth, “is how pirates say hello.” Percy looked with interest at the ship still floating alongside the Argo II, attached by a gangplank. “Five drachmas says something on that ship gives me tetanus.”
And he left, without an explanation of what the fuck it was that just happened, to go explore a pirate ship.