Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The day my life really got weird started just like any other. Mind you, my life has never been “normal”. I’m a demigod, after all. Life is never normal for us. If you’re reading this, you probably know what I mean. You may have had to deal with gods and monsters like my friends and I. If not, get ready to be really confused. 

My mother is the Greek goddess of wisdom and battle strategy, Athena. My dad, however,  is just a regular mortal, which is admittedly less interesting. The two of them got together one fateful summer evening and had an extremely sexy discussion about World War II-era fighter jets, which resulted in yours truly. No, I do not have any supernatural powers (unless you count ravishingly good looks) and, yes, I have a belly button (don't ask). 

Okay, so now that we’re all caught up, my name is Annabeth Chase. I’m twelve years old, and this is the story of my first ever quest. 

———

I guess it all started about six months before Percy showed up at camp. We were taking our annual winter-solstice field trip to Olympus. They had shoved all of us into one of the Delphi Strawberry Service vans and shipped us over to Manhattan. Summer vacation had ended months before, so there weren't quite as many campers, but the van was still properly packed with us year-rounders. I tried to ignore the fact that Connor Stoll kept elbowing me in the ribs every time we turned right. 

My best friend at the time, Luke, sat next to me in the back row, not saying a word, which was fine by me because I had gotten my hands on a really cool book about Ancient Roman architecture that I intended to finish before we got back. Directly in front of me sat Clarisse, who was only about a year my senior, but looked much older because of how buff she was. She was twirling a hunting knife between her fingers (which I was pretty sure she wasn’t supposed to have, but I didn’t say anything) and was begrudgingly letting Silena Beauregard braid her hair. The others were spread out around the van, reading and sleeping and laughing. There was a group in the front that had decided to do a “greatest hits” concert of their favorite camp songs. In the driver’s seat was our security guard, Argus. He had several of his eyes pointed to his rear, either to make sure us campers weren’t getting into any trouble or to watch the back of the van, which he could probably do at the same time. 

I looked up from my book long enough to try and calculate how long it would be until we reached the Empire State Building. Even though this was the fifth time I had been to Olympus, I was still jittery. We weren’t allowed to leave camp without permission and this was the only organized outing they offered all year. 

I found myself staring at a herd of cows that one of the Apollo guys had pointed out as they grazed in the snow. This always happened whenever I left camp; mundane things suddenly became very amusing. I turned to Luke to tell him a joke, but he was staring intensely at the horizon in front of us, his teeth clenched in concentration, pushing out the muscles at the sides of his sharp jawline. He had grown more muscular over the previous months, owing to his long hours in the sword fighting arena. I couldn’t help but notice how even his face had begun to fill out nicely. He looked like a real adult now, like one of those comic book movie actors that the Aphrodite kids were always gushing about. He also hadn’t shaved in a while, so he had little hairs poking out at the base of his chin. The light of the setting sun caught them in such a way that it looked as if he had an orange aura. 

“Luke, are you okay?” I asked. 

He turned his head quickly, like I had startled him. But, just as quickly, his eyes softened and he flashed his familiar crooked smile. “Yeah, I’m fine, Annie.” He laughed. “I’m just thinkin’.” 

“About what?” I knew he hated going to Olympus. He’d said it was the possibility of seeing his dad, Hermes, again. 

He was silent for several, almost imperceivable moments. “Ah, you know me too well,” he sighed, then leaned close and whispered into my ear, close enough that I could feel his breath rustling my hair. “I’m trying to figure out whose dessert I’m going to steal tonight.” 

I laughed. “No, but seriously, you looked, like, nervous. Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“ No, but seriously , who do you think wouldn’t notice if I just… slipped something out of their dinner bag? It can’t be Clarisse because she would see me coming. Or Silena because— well, Clarisse would see me coming.” 

I couldn’t tell if he was joking or not. “You can’t steal from Silena. She’s nice.” 

“One of the Stolls would be an obvious option, seeing as they’re not the brightest,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard me. “But they know all my tricks, so…” He seemed to notice my displeasure for the first time. He threw his head back, laughing. “I’m kidding . Listen, I love that you’re concerned about me or whatever, but you worry too much. I thought I was supposed to be the adult here.” 

It was true, of course. Luke would be turning nineteen in a month or so, which meant he had more than six and a half years on me. But his comment still stung. It had never felt like he was that much older, or at least, he never treated me as such. I thought it was weird that he was suddenly treating me like a little kid. I didn’t want him to feel like he had to hide anything from me, like I couldn’t handle it. But I kept my mouth shut. 

About an hour later, we arrived in Queens and began to see the lights that formed Manhattan in the distance. Before I knew it, we were all gathered at the van windows, trying to catch a glimpse of the tops of the towering skyscrapers. I had almost forgotten they made buildings that tall. The streets were adorned with Christmas lights and wreaths. The wet snow turned to slush at the bottom of the curb. 

We turned down East 34th Street and stopped just down the road from our destination. I stepped out and pulled my jacket closed against the cold winter air. Behind us, arrived a similar, smaller van driven by a harpy, and carrying only one passenger— our camp director, Chiron. He rolled down a ramp that had been set out for him, thanked Argus and his harpy chauffeur, and led all the campers inside. 

As soon as we entered the lobby, Chiron made a beeline for the front desk. We were instructed not to draw too much attention to ourselves— a dozen teenagers walking into the Empire State Building tend to do that, especially when most of those teenagers haven’t been outside their campgrounds in almost an entire year. The Stolls chose to ignore these instructions, however, as they jostled each other and eyed a security guard. 

Chiron smiled at the man at the front desk. 

“Sixth-hundredth floor, please.” He said. 

The man looked up from a book that he was reading. “Ah, Master Chiron,” he said pleasantly. He reached down and handed Chiron a key card, his face stretched into a clearly ingenuine smile. “Pleasure seeing you all here again. Give my regards to Zeus if you can.” 

I had heard that this guy was a demigod who’d done something to offend the gods when he was younger. Something just bad enough to get him sentenced to guarding the entrance to Olympus for the rest of his mortal life. Whether or not this was true, I didn’t know. But, it might have been why he appeared to be sucking up to Chiron and why he was so crabby the other ninety-nine percent of the time.  

“Of course,” Chiron took the key and led us all to the elevator. He split us up into two groups that would ride together, since we couldn’t all fit into one car. Luke, the rest of our group, and I stepped inside. Chiron handed Luke the card to send us up to Olympus, which had magically duplicated itself to fit our needs. Luke put the card into the security slot and pushed the button that appeared, labeled 600. 

As we traveled up for what seemed like an impossibly long time, easy-listening Muzak played over the speakers. Luke stood right in front of me. I stared at the sword strapped to his back on top of his long, dark coat. Some of the older campers had been permitted to bring weapons, only to be used in absolute emergencies, but I had known Luke since I was seven and I knew he was likely to use that privilege recklessly. It seemed so unfair that he was allowed to bring a weapon and I wasn’t, especially since I would probably be a lot more careful. Not that he wasn’t capable; I was just tired of people treating me like I couldn’t handle myself. 

The elevator dinged. I gasped. 

No matter how many times I’d seen it, Mount Olympus still took my breath away. Looking down, I saw the clouds stirring, supporting the mass of rock that floated above the city far below. I peaked over the edge and felt my stomach drop. We were so unfathomably high up and the bridge from the elevator wasn’t exactly stable-looking. 

As my eyes wandered upwards, some unconscious part of my brain registered how beautiful the design of it all was. The buildings and houses that gathered around the massive palace fit together like pieces in a puzzle, gardens and fountains intertwining them. Bronze braziers lined the main road that led up the mountaintop. 

And then there was the palace. Gods , the palace. Made of polished marble, it shone from its spot on the peak, like a diamond on a wedding ring. It was a beautiful mass of columns, ornate capitals, friezes, and light . The palace was designed so that your eyes were automatically drawn to it; it radiated so much power. It was a place fit only for the gods. 

Glancing to my left, I noticed that Luke had gotten the same look that he had in the van. This time, I could understand why. Seeing the sheer beauty of Olympus, knowing that our parents were in there; it even made me feel a bit nauseous. 

The others joined us and we began to make our way down the gilded road. Nymphs, satyrs, and lesser gods watched us go by as they went about their daily tasks. Some stopped and stared. Others smiled and waved. One satyr looked around in confusion and counted on his fingers, as if he was thinking, “Is it that time already?” We followed Chiron a few more blocks down the road, passing shops and merchant stalls. The keepers, who had been insensently hawking their various products to passersby, gave up their haggling to wave at us from behind their counters and windows. 

Eventually, we turned down a side street next to the palace.  This area was where the more prominent deities resided, those not quite so important as to live in the castle with the major gods. Laid out in front of us was a row of nine mansions, each belonging to one of the muses. Tonight, they presented themselves open and alive with music and laughter. The windows sat ajar to let the amalgamation of sounds out into the city. Inside, I could see how each of the mansions was designed and decorated to its owner’s liking. Several of them were packed with writing desks and books. Others were designed like a mini-amphitheater, with spaces to bring in guests for shows and performances. One mansion, which I immediately knew belonged to Euterpe, had a singular bench on which a woman sat plucking a lyre, surrounded by hundreds of musical instruments on every inch of every wall. 

But one of the mansions was not like the others, it sat relatively closed off, with black-out curtains hung at every window. A woman wearing a flowing blue gown and adorned with gold jewelry stood at the front gate. Her face was framed by her long dark curls. The jewels which formed a halo-like circle at the top of her head looked like stars which she plucked straight out of the night sky. She had a twinkle in her eye that said that she could tell all the secrets of the universe if she wanted to.  This was Urania, goddess and muse of astronomy. 

She turned to greet us, her arms outstretched as if she was trying to initiate some sort of group-hug. Unfortunately, no one obliged. 

“Welcome,” she said in her silky-sweet voice as we filed into her door. “Ah, and Master Chiron, looking as stunning as ever.” She winked in his direction. 

He bowed his head slightly. “You flatter me, my lady,” He waved at her dismissively, but I could have sworn I saw an uncharacteristic flush on his cheeks. I didn’t blame him. If anyone as beautiful as her said that I was “stunning”, I might as well drop dead right then and there. 

It had been somewhat of an inside joke last year about these two. Luke and I had sat snickering at Chiron’s failed attempts to gently remind her that he did not share her romantic interests. “I’m dedicated to my students, Your Grace. I’m afraid there’s no such room for anything else.” he had said carefully. But, of course, Urania would hear none of it. Luke and I had sat pretending not to overhear their conversation, glancing at each other and giggling at his expense. 

Now, however, Luke walked briskly to the benches that had been placed in an arc around the foyer. I followed him after some hesitation, having to shove past some older campers in my way. His eyes studied the room, examining the windows and doors. The walls had a celestial design that curled up towards the plain domed ceiling. Several doors led out to other rooms of the estate. Luke seemed to notice me watching him. 

“I never noticed how cool this place is,” he said as I sat down next to him. He placed a protective arm around me and pulled me close. My muscles tensed under his touch. Luke has always been a very touchy person, but for some reason, this time was… different. I felt as if it was more of a way to shut me up, rather than an actual display of brotherly affection. 

“You know,” I said, “I know something is up with you,” One arm still placed on my shoulder, he became very still. “If there’s something you’re not telling me… Just know that I’m here if you want to talk about it.” I tried to speak carefully, and keep my tone even. He pulled away and looked me straight in the eyes. 

“It’s nothing you need to worry about, Annabeth.” His voice took on a soft, yet firm tone. Then, he smiled at me. And I smiled back. 

———

What came next was a show put on by the Muses to display each of their spheres of influence. To be completely honest, it wasn’t all that entertaining, especially since I'd seen and heard it all before. But, the Apollo kids got really into some of the songs that they played, closing their eyes and bobbing their heads along to the beat. 

The last one to go was Urania herself, for whom the curtains were drawn tight and an image of the perfectly clear night sky was projected onto the ceiling. This part was always my favorite. Mostly because I got to quiz myself on the different constellations and their history. 

Urania was the only Muse that really fascinated me. Not only was she the only one who had nothing to do with music or poetry, she was also meant to represent so much more than just astronomy. Her name was used to mean “heavenly” and often represented “love of the spirit”. Aphrodite Urania , this idea was called, or “Heavenly Aphrodite”, meant to distinguish from Aphrodite Pandemos (Aphrodite of all the people), which referred more to physical love. This confused me when I first learned about it. How can there be two Aphrodites? But there are many words for love in Ancient Greek, six in fact, so I guess I kind of get it. But why is the same word used to mean heavenly and spiritual? Maybe it’s because, much like the heavens, the spirit is also unknowable. 

I still don’t like it, though. 

Urania’s presentation ended in a round of respectful applause. Chiron stood up, still applauding, to address the campers.

 “Thank you for that wonderful exhibition. I believe I speak on behalf of all of us when I say that it was extremely enlightening.” He briefly looked in my general direction. Without thinking, I sat up a little straighter. “Students, some of you may not understand the importance of learning the Arts just yet. But I will tell you this: it is important that we hone a variety of skills, never focus on just one craft, for to do so would be to limit ourselves in all fields.” Behind him, the nine Muses nodded their ascent. Then, his face broke out into a warm smile. “But, I’m sure you’re bored of me at this point. Now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for… let’s eat!” 

A cheer broke out among the campers. Collectively, we all reached into our backpacks and pulled out the dinner bags we’d been given at the start of the trip. They were bright orange to match our t-shirts. There was a great shuffling as people tried to sit with their friends. I turned towards Luke as he moved to rest his feet on the seat in front of him. Beside us, sat Silena and Clarisse. 

“So, what’d you guys think of the presentation?” I asked after a few moments, to no one in particular.

“It was fine.” Luke sighed.

“I think it was a load of pegasus crap.” Clarisse said through mouthfuls of a soft taco. 

“Clarisse!” Selina chided. 

“What?” 

“That’s so rude!”

“No, it’s true! I mean, when are we ever going to use any of that stuff? Like, you’re gonna be fighting a drachinae and she’s gonna be like ‘Oh, but can you play the harp? Can you tell me a limerick?’ No, it’s stupid.”

“Whatever,” Silena grumbled. “Why, Annabeth, what did you think?” 

“I don’t know, it’s like Chiron said, knowing the Arts is just as important as knowing how to fight.” 

“Well, you just worship the ground he walks on,” Clarisse smirked. 

“No, I don’t—” 

“Oh my gods, will you guys please just shut up?” Luke said. “It literally doesn’t matter.” 

Clarisse took another bite. “Why are you being such a dactyl?”

I studied his face. He stared ahead, eyes unfocused and distant.  He was silent for a moment. “I’m just… tired. It’s fine.” 

“Whatever, man.” 

Silena’s eyebrows knit together with concern. “Luke, if you’re really that tired, I’m sure Chiron will help you find a quiet place to lay down.” 

“I said I’m fine,” he said, quietly. 

We ate in silence. I looked at Luke as he scarfed down a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I noticed for the first time the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders slumped as if he was carrying a heavy load. I wanted to help him so badly. 

Frustrated, I set down my bag, and walked out of the room. Luke called after me, but I ignored him. My tennis shoes clicked against the floor. 

In the open air, I saw that the sun had fully set, allowing for the stars to shine in the night sky. The music that streamed from the city reached a peaceful, mellow level. Above the booming palace, clouds mingled and stirred. I stood there for a moment, trying to keep my breathing steady. 

“Annabeth, is everything alright?” 

I turned to see Chrion hovering just outside the door. 

“Yeah,” I sniffed. “Just getting some fresh air.” 

“Miss Chase, I thought you knew better than to lie to me about your feelings.” He fixed me with a very fatherly look, which I hated. His hooves reminded me of tap dancers as he walked towards me on the cobblestone ground. 

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Um… it’s just that Luke has been acting really… off today, and it just makes me upset because he won’t let me help him with whatever’s going on.” 

“I see,” he said gently. “You know, he told me this morning that I needed to keep an eye on you. That you’d been having a hard time.” 

“I— he did?” 

“He did indeed.” Chiron clip-clopped over to my side. He stared up at the night sky and took a deep breath. “Luke is at a stage in his life where he’s transitioning into adulthood. He’s trying to figure out what that means for him. It has always fascinated me how human men are almost afraid of their emotions. Luke might not want to share what is troubling him because he thinks that it gives him less control. And accepting help makes him seem less capable. Unfortunately, this is something he must learn to work through.” He looked down at me, eyes soft in the low light, “Do you understand what I’m saying?” 

“I guess…” I stared at my feet. “I just wish there was something I could do.” 

He sighed. “I know, Annabeth,” He placed his hand on my back. “Why don’t we head inside?”

I mumbled in agreement. He led me back towards the door. Then, he stopped suddenly. It took me a second to realize that our path was blocked. A silver owl sat on the cobblestone, its overly large eyes watching us expectantly. Then, it opened its beak and spoke. 

“I require Annabeth Chase in my chambers,” it said. My mother’s voice, though I had heard it only a handful of times, was permanently seared into my mind. Firm and commanding, yet quiet when she desired it to be. It was as if it forced you to stop and listen. 

The owl promptly flew off. Chiron looked at me with pity. I forced myself not to look nervous. “What do you think she wants?”

He shook his head, “I could not tell you, my child. The gods’ desires are as mysterious as they are many.” 

“Well, that settles it,” I said. Without any further discussion, I glanced back at Chiron one last time before I headed off toward the palace. 

I had never been inside the building before, but I didn’t have to wonder where to go. The owl reappeared and flew in circles around my head, leading me through the vast chambers. Finally, it stopped at a door decorated with branch designs surrounding an Aegis. Hesitantly, I knocked only once before the door slid open by itself. The owl flew into the now open doorway. Following suit, I clenched my fists to keep my hands from shaking. 

Inside, I walked into a vast room. It was shockingly empty, with marble columns lining the walls. Olive trees reached up through the open skylights. My footsteps echoed as I made my way to the back of the room, where my mother stood, watching me. I supposed that the meeting of the Olympians had adjourned, or she simply left early. The owl flew to her and perched on her shoulder. She muttered something unintelligible to the bird before it flew up into the nearest skylight. I knelt at her feet, as I was taught to do. 

She fixed her stormy eyes on me, looking me up and down. I felt horrifyingly underdressed, in just my camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I felt like I should be wearing a dress or something, at least. 

Finally, she spoke in that commanding, rigid voice, “Annabeth Chase.”

I didn’t know if that was a question or a statement, “Yes?” I said. My voice was thin and hollow. 

“I’ve been watching you for some time,” she cocked an eyebrow, as if that was supposed to elicit some reaction. 

“Oh,” I said, “Thank you,” That seemed like the right thing to say.

Sure enough, the corners of her mouth lifted ever so slightly, mildly pleased. “And you’ve shown quite a bit of potential,” She continued. I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. She wasn’t angry with me. “I would like to give you a gift,” She said in the way someone might tell you, ‘I’ve decided to transfer you forty-thousand dollars!’ , like I was supposed to be beholden. Suddenly, an object materialized in her hand. I held my hands out and she placed it in them, “For your birthday,” she said. My birthday, of course, wasn’t for seven more months, but that meant next to nothing to the gods. 

I turned to object over in my hands. It was a navy blue baseball cap. On it, was a symbol I recognized from my short amount of time in the city: the New York Yankees logo. 

I racked my mind for possible reasons why Athena would think that I would want baseball merchandise. I wasn’t a particular fan of the team. In fact, I hardly paid much attention to sports at all. We didn’t really have televisions at camp, so the only exposure I had to baseball was the handful of times someone had tried to start a rough approximation of the game during free time and when I had lived with my father. Maybe he was a Yankees fan? 

“Thank you,” I said again, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do. 

Athena smirked again. We sat in a tense silence for several moments. Then, as if she didn’t know what I was still doing there, she said, “That is all. You are dismissed.” 

Slowly, I stood and made my way out of the room and back through the hallways I’d come through. As I walked, I clutched the gift in my hands. It didn’t look all that special, but Athena had acted like I should be grateful for such a reward. 

Back at Urania’s much smaller abode, people had started setting aside blankets and cushions for us to make our beds around the room. I grabbed a blanket and a pillow and headed back over to where I had been sitting with Luke. I found him laughing and chatting with Silena. She tossed her silky black hair over her shoulder. I rolled my eyes as I sat down and smoothed out my blanket over the hard wooden floor. Luke watched me quizzically. He noticed the cap in my hand. 

“What’s that?” he asked, “You get some Yankees merch?” 

I handed it to him. I was happy that he didn’t mention my small outburst earlier. “My mother just gave it to me,” I said. 

Luke looked up in surprise, “Did she actually?” Silena and Clariesse turned their attention to me, as well. They passed that cap around, looking at it in awe. 

“Does it do anything special?” Clariesse asked. I thought about her electric spear, which had been a gift from her own father, Ares. 

I shrugged. “I don’t know. She didn’t say.” 

“Well, put it on, idiot.”

She passed it back to me and they watched me anxiously as I placed the cap on my head. Immediately, my skin started tingling. Like when your foot falls asleep and you get pins and needles, except all over your body. The feeling grew to an almost unbearable level. I looked down at my arms, sure there were going to be spiders crawling all over my skin, but saw nothing. I mean, literally nothing. My arms had disappeared except for a vague outline. 

The others reacted with astonishment as I took back off the hat. The pins and needles feeling faded. I watched as Luke took it from me and tried in on himself. He took it off almost immediately and shivered. 

“Ugh,” he said, “That feels weird.” 

“Let me see,” Clariesse snatched it from him and tried it on herself. Some of the others had joined our group and they passed it around, giggling as they disappeared. Eventually, they grew tired of the novelty and the hat made its way back to me. 

I turned the cap in my hands as the others laughed and talked with each other. Luke sat next to me, not saying but glancing occasionally at the hat. The Stolls had started a game of truth or dare and a small circle had formed in the center of the room. Soon enough, I laid down and began to fall asleep to the soft drone of chatter and flickering candlelight.

———

Shock, horror: I had a nightmare. 

I was in the throne room. I mean, I'd never actually been there, but it was what I would assume it would look like. And it was more like a throne-hypaethral anyway, with gilded columns forming a rectangle around the perimeter. Because there was no roof, I could see the stars moving ever-so-slightly across the sky. There were twelve seats arranged in a semi-circle around a central brazier. 

There had obviously been a party recently. Goblets shimmered from the floor, abandoned in the revelry. There was a suspicious stain on the floor to my right along with a pile of colorful scarves, and I could only guess what had happened there. 

My dream brought me forward towards the back of the room. Behind the biggest and most dominating throne, which could only have been Zeus’, something was flickering on the floor that I couldn’t really make out. It must have also been left behind after the party. 

Moving closer, I could see the object more clearly. A beam of pure energy and light that I couldn’t quite place. It lay haphazardly on the floor and threatened to fall down off the dais. 

I heard a thump ring out from behind me. I turned to see a dark hooded figure cross briskly towards where I stood at the back of the hall, their cloak swishing behind. I suddenly realized that I could see the wall through them, like a misty spirit. They knelt on the marble floor next to the throne and I felt my stomach sink. Pulling something out from the depths of their coat, the figure reached out and grabbed the flickering object from off the ground. Knowing I was witnessing something terrible, I turned and ran out the door.

———

Down an alley. Through the snow and ice. Over a trash bag. Something was chasing me. I couldn’t see it, but I knew it was there. I turned a corner and found myself at a dead end. 

Panicking, I looked around to find somewhere to hide. I was wearing too-big flannel jammies that my father had gotten for me. The cold air stabbed my skin through the thin fabric. I stumbled under a sheet of rusted metal roofing. I was holding a hammer so tight that my fingers were tingling. 

I don’t know how long I sat like that, freezing in the darkness, my limbs going numb. My stomach ached with hunger. After what felt like hours, I heard footsteps coming down the alley. I tried not to yelp as they got closer. I quietly and carefully repositioned myself so that I would be ready to attack. But the hammer, which my small hands struggled to hold up, fell and banged against the metal sheet in a thunderous roar. I cursed under my breath. 

The footsteps slowed until they were right next to me. Suddenly, a hand reached underneath the sheet and ripped it up. I didn’t hesitate, I found the person attached to it and swung wildly. He dodged with a loud “Whoa!” and grabbed my wrist. I struggled against him. The only thing I could think about was getting away. There was no one I could trust out here. I kicked him in the shins over and over but he didn’t so much as flinch. 

“No more monsters!” I heard myself shriek. “Go away!” 

“It’s okay!” the boy said, wrapping his arms around me. I wriggled under his grasp, but he was much stronger than I was. 

For the first time, I noticed a girl standing with a spear and a shield, as if about to fight. She had a shock of spiky black hair and her eyes were startlingly blue. I screamed and kicked the boy in the thigh. 

“Thalia,” he said, “put your shield away! You’re scaring her!” 

She tapped something on the front of the shield and it disappeared. She bent down and looked at me. She looked like one of those scary punks I’d seen on TV. But when she spoke, her voice was soothing and gentle. 

“Hey, little girl. It’s all right. We’re not gonna hurt you. I’m Thalia.” She gestured to the boy. “This is Luke.” 

“You’re… monsters!” I screamed in her face. 

“No, but we know about monsters,” Luke said. “We fight them too.” He loosened his grip on me. I was so tired, and he was warm. I didn’t want to struggle anymore. I waited for an attack to come, but it never did.

 I turned to look at him. He had ashy blonde hair. His face was youthful, and he wasn’t quite the height of an adult. “You’re like me?” I asked.

“Yeah. We’re… uh, well, it’s hard to explain, but we’re monster fighters. Where’s your family?” 

A lump was forming in my throat. “My family hates me. They don’t want me. I ran away.” 

Luke didn’t say anything, but I knew that he could relate. His eyes shimmered. 

“What’s your name, kiddo?” Thalia knelt and placed a hand on my shoulder. 

“Annabeth,” I said. 

Luke smiled warmly. “Nice name.” 

I smiled back through tears. I never liked my name. I thought it was too girly, too soft. But, he looked at me as if it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard. I looked into his eyes and found understanding and compassion. No one had ever looked at me like that. 

“I’ll tell you what, Annabeth,” Luke said. “You’re pretty fierce. We could use a fighter like you.” 

“You could?” 

“Oh,   yeah,” He reached down and pulled something from his belt. He held out a bronze dagger. It glowed faintly. “How’d you like a real monster-slaying weapon? This is Celestial bronze. Works a lot better than a hammer.” 

I took it from him. It was heavy, but not imbalanced. I studied the designs that decorated the handle. 

“Knives are only for the bravest and quickest fighters . They don’t have the reach or power of a sword, but they’re easy to conceal and they can find weak spots in your enemy’s armor. It takes a clever warrior to use a knife. I have a feeling you’re pretty clever.” Luke said. 

I knew he was plaicating me, but I didn’t care. I nodded, tears still dripping off my chin. “I am clever!” 

Thalia barked a laugh. She tousled my hair. “We’d better get going, Annabeth. We have a safe house on the James River. We’ll get you some clothes and some food.” 

At the mention of food, my stomach grumbled in yearning. But I hesitated, suddenly aware that I didn’t really know these kids or what they wanted from me. “You’re… you’re not going to take me back to my family? Promise?” 

Luke placed his hand on my shoulder. “You’re part of our family now. And I promise I’m not going to fail you like our families did us. Deal?” 

I breathed a sigh of relief. “Deal!” 

Thalia smiled at me. “Annabeth! Wake up!”

“Huh?” 

———

Someone was shaking me awake. Silena’s eyes were panicked as she looked down at me. Her hands gripped my shoulders and she looked back and forth between me and the window across the foyer, through which shone the morning sun. 

“What? What’s going on?” I asked her. I sat up in my makeshift bed on the floor. My invisibility cap was right where I’d left it at my side. The other campers were spread out across the hall. Most of them were looking around, confused.

Her voice was strained and breathy, “I thought I heard…” She trailed off. 

Next to me, Luke was propped up on his elbows, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He looked at her. “What’s up? What’d you hear?” 

She sat between me and Luke, her eyes fixed on the window. I placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s going on?” I asked. 

She opened her mouth to speak. But then,  a great flash lit up the room. BOOM! The loudest sound any of us had ever heard rang out from outside. Wind rattled the windows. The few campers who were still sleeping now jumped up off the floor. 

Ever the detective, Clarisse bolted up and said, “Something‘s happening!” 

Luke shot to his feet. In a loud voice: “Let’s go! Everyone, get your things. Where’s Chiron?”

“Here,” Chiron stepped into the room, coming in from a back door. “We must go. Now!” 

Everyone gathered their bags, scrambling towards the door. Chiron said a rushed farewell to Urania, who had stumbled out of another backroom in a dressing gown. We stepped outside to see a swirling storm cloud directly above our heads. Gray clouds and lightning swirled around the palace like a spinning disk. Campers slowed to stare at it in awe, but Chiron kept us moving back the way we came. In the street, the nymphs and satyrs cowered in their buildings. Some hid under trees and in the bushes. We ran down the cobblestone street. Luke trailed in the back to make sure no one was left behind. 

In the elevator, kids talked excitedly, speculating and proposing theories as to what the heck was happening. 

Ten minutes later, we were rushing out the front door of the Empire State Building and into the Strawberry vans, which had come to our aid at a moment’s notice. We packed ourselves back into the seats. The campers were bustling with nervous energy. 

As the vans sped off back through Manhattan, I looked back out the window. The spot where we had just come from was a mess of a storm. The top of the Empire State Building looked like it was being consumed by a black mass. I watched as the storm cloud expanded to fill the morning sky. It was then that I knew that something monumental was beginning. 

Chapter Text

“C’mon! Annabeth, run!” 

My feet slammed against the ground. My lungs and muscles ached. Luke pulled my arm along as he snaked through the roots and branches on the forest floor. Ahead of us, Grover led the way. He kept looking back nervously and yelping every time he saw something behind us. Thalia was trailing behind, her sword and shield drawn. She was yelling encouragements as we stumbled along. 

Not far behind us, thundering footsteps shook the ground. 

“It’s just up ahead!” Grover’s voice shook as his chest heaved. He searched the woods in front of us frantically. “We should get there soon.” 

We could hear low, menacing voices approaching. We were running as fast as we could, but we were getting tired. Luke resorted to carrying me on his back. 

I glanced behind and caught a glimpse of dark figures sprinting behind us. They raced through the trees with ease. My stomach sank. “They’re coming too fast!” My voice came high and strained. 

Grover suddenly stopped and played a loud tone on his pan flute. We watched the forest encase the figures in a cage of greenery. The monsters roared in rage and began pounding on the tightly wound vines. 

We ran a little while longer and hid under a large brush. We sat huddled together, trying to catch our breath. 

“Grover, which way do we head?” Thalia said. 

He peaked out over the bush and looked around quickly. “Um… that way.” 

When he looked back at us, I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. I could tell Luke and Thalia weren’t convinced either. 

Suddenly, we heard the sounds of the monsters breaking out of their prison. I said what everyone was thinking, “We won’t be able to get there in time. They’re too fast.” 

“No, it’ll be okay,” Luke panted. “We can make it! We can make it, right, Grover?” 

We all turned to him expectantly, but his face faltered and his eyes were brimming with tears. He shook his head slightly. “I— I don’t…” 

Luke and Thalia exchanged a glance. She took a deep breath. “You take Annabeth. I’ll distract them.” 

She turned to leave but I grabbed her hand. “No! You can’t— You…” My voice broke and I felt a tear stream down my cheek. “You’ll die…”

Thalia took my hand and pressed it to her lips. “It’s okay. Let me do this.” She turned to Grover, her face unnaturally pale and still. “Get them there. Promise me.”

“I— I will. I promise. But, Thalia… I’m so sorry.” 

She smiled sadly, “You did everything just fine. Look at it this way: you’re the best satyr I’ve ever met.” She let out an odd, strained laugh and turned to the rest of us, “I’ll see you later.” She winked and gave my hand one last squeeze and took off toward the monsters. I heard her vicious battle cry as she met the monsters with the sharp end of her sword.

The sounds of the fight faded into the background as we took off in the opposite direction. Lighting and thunder rang out in the sky. Luke was fiercely wiping his eyes as he ran. Finally, we saw a torchlight appear between the trees.

Grover sighed in relief. “There it is! Let’s go!” When we reached the wooden archway, Luke collapsed onto the ground, panting. Grover pulled his arm. “Keep going,” he said frantically, “We’re not safe yet.” 

We heard a girl’s scream closeby. Luke bolted up. “We have to go help her.”

“No, there’s nothing we can do. We have to go!” 

Just then, Thalia stumbled out of the treeline after us. She had a large gash across her stomach. Blood spilled over her fingers as she tried to keep pressure on the wound. She had a nasty bruise already welling up on the side of her head.

She motioned toward us weakly. “Go!”

Luke started toward her, but something caught his eye and he stumbled back. A looming figure appeared from the darkness. 

The winged woman raised her sword and thrust it into Thalia’s chest. Blood sprayed back as she pulled it out. Luke called out her name as Thalia stumbled and brought down her sword onto the ground. 

I was forced to turn away as a blinding lightning bolt struck the earth next to her. When I looked back, the woman was gone, seemingly vanished. Thalia sank to the ground. She struggled to her knees but collapsed back down again. Her hands fell limply to her side, dropping her weapons in the grass. 

Luke took off toward her limp body. Even before he got to her, I knew she was gone. Her chest was still and she gazed up at the sky blankly. Luke bent down and touched the side of her neck. 

“No…” he said thickly. He screamed into the air. It was a horrible noise, angry and visceral. Grover grabbed my arm tightly. Even still, we could hear monsters roaring in the distance. But, none of us moved to escape or get help. 

Then, as we watched dumbfounded, the air began to shimmer. Luke gasped and scrambled away, looking at the body with wide eyes. 

Thalia seemed to be sinking into the ground. Her skin discolored, turning a muddy gray. Something started protruding from her wound, a group of small green spikes. The spikes multiplied, building up upon each other to the sky. The trunk of a tree swallowed her body and rose up toward the moonlight. Thousands of spiky leaves poked up and out of the trunk. Around the tree and off to the sides as far as I could see, little pockets of static electricity sparked in the air. 

The tree grew to about forty feet and slowed to a stop. It settled into the ground, like it had been there all along. The sparkles faded and disappeared. We sat there, breathless, staring up at the pine.

 The forest was eerily quiet, as if nothing happened. 

———

It didn’t take long for the storms to spread to camp. It was the morning after we came back from the field trip and I walked the perimeter, running errands for Chiron to keep myself busy.  I was hauling a wheelbarrow full of mulch up a hill towards the fields where the satyrs were preparing for winter. I wore a jacket which I had tied around my waist, enjoying the cool breeze against my skin. 

As I reached the top of the hill, I saw a familiar pair of hooves striding towards me. 

“Hey, Grover,” I said, “Special delivery.”

“What’s up?” he smiled. His floppy hair bounced up and down as he walked. He said good-bye to the nymphs he was talking to. 

Satyrs didn’t age as quickly as humans, so he looked pretty much the same as he had five years ago when I first met him. This also meant that we now looked around the same age. I couldn’t help but smile as I pulled myself up and found that I was almost as tall as him, too. 

“I heard about the trip.” His smile was gone almost as soon as it came. His eyes took on his trademarked panicked look. “Crazy right? And nobody has any idea what happened?”  

“Well…” I looked around. “I might know something.” 

His voice was hushed. “What do you mean?” He grabbed my elbow and pulled me off to the side so that no one would overhear. 

I told him about my dream with the hooded figure in the throne room.

He was silent for a while, anxiously twirling his leg fur between his fingers. Finally, he said, “That’s not good.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” I looked around at the gray skies that surrounded Camp. Of course, the sky directly above us was clear as ever. But this storm, which stirred and broiled in the Western horizon, was unlike any I’d seen before. It carried a power and ferocity that was specific to godly influence. 

Grover drew my attention back to him. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Annabeth, you have to tell Chiron about your dream.” 

I shrugged him off. “No, I should wait. I want to figure this out first. I think someone stole—”

“No,” he sighed. “He’s not gonna be here very long…” 

I took a step back. “What? Why not?”

“Uh,” he ran his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Annabeth. I thought Chiron would have told you by now—”

“Told me what?” I crossed my arms.

“I’m going back to Yancy for spring semester and he’s…” He searched my face. “He’s coming with me.” 

“What?” I asked. “Why?”

“There’s a demigod there. He’s really powerful. I haven’t smelled anything like him since…” He glanced at the pine tree which looked down at camp from the westernmost hilltop. 

“Yeah.” I said. 

“Okay, well… I asked him to come in and verify. I want to be sure that’s what I’m sensing. He could be—” He stopped himself. “Anyway, he should be really powerful.” 

I sighed and looked away. “Yeah, okay.” 

“Annabeth, I—”

“I said ‘okay!’” It came out a little harsher than I meant it to. 

Grover was silent for a few moments then mumbled, “Just… tell him about what you saw.” Then he walked away. 

And I was left alone there, as I watched Grover make his way back to the field, hating myself for shouting at him. It wasn’t him that I was angry with and he, by no means, deserved it. I took my wheelbarrow and continued on the path. 

———

Days turned into weeks and I didn’t tell Chiron about my dream. I don’t know why I felt so defensive about it, like it was mine alone to figure out and comprehend. Eventually, Chiron was informed about why the sky continued to be filled with angry gray clouds. Zeus blamed the other gods for some sort of crime. I privately suspected that someone had stolen something from him. But, the issue had nothing to do with us or camp, Chiron had said, so we were not to concern ourselves. Yet, at least. It’s hard to ignore the monsoon-sized snowstorms that raged over the Sound every night. 

Grover went back to the school. Not because he needed to— he’d been to the sixth grade at least four times— but because there was a demigod who needed protecting. Chiron left with him, leaving Mr. D in charge, which not a single person was happy about. Meanwhile, I disappeared into my studies, trying to absorb as much information as I could. I created lessons for myself, using the thousands of books and scrolls that lined the shelves of the Athena cabin. I even tutored some of the other year-rounders, although they were much more interested in their various hobbies. 

I trained with Luke in the sword-fighting arena whenever I could. He was hard on me and would often yell during our one-on-one sessions. But, I knew it was all in good faith. He just wanted me to get better. He would surprise me with different fighting techniques, trying to keep me prepared for every type of monster that I might face. I would parry and evade his relentless attacks as sweat poured into my eyes. Every once in a while, I would gain the upper hand, outsmarting him with my much smaller weapon. Only then, when I had him disarmed, or on the ground, my knife to his throat, would his eyes soften and his lips curl up with pride. 

Something strange happened to Luke when he fought. His eyes took on an unsettling look that I couldn’t quite name. It was like he wasn’t all there anymore, instead merely a hollowed machine. I didn’t know if demons were real, but if they were, I could be convinced that Luke was possessed in these instances. I might have even been afraid if I didn’t know him so well. I blocked attack after attack, trying to spot an opening. 

We could go on like this for hours at a time. By then, even Luke’s face would start to glisten, while my ponytail would stick to the back of my neck. He pinned me again and again, always getting the upper hand. Everytime, he would back away with a huff and shout, “Again!” Then, he would attack again with equal ferocity. 

One day, he had me pinned in a hold, his sword inches from my throat. For a moment, we stood there, the silence only broken by our heavy breaths. Then, he let go and raised his sword again. 

“Let me take a break,” I panted. My arms were starting to feel like jelly. 

But, he didn’t seem to hear me. He ran at me and I blocked his advance with my knife, turning the blade so that his sword deflected toward the ground. But, as I did so, his sword caught my nondominant arm, leaving a long gash. 

This wasn’t the first time I’d been cut by a blade, by far. Usually it happened when I wasn’t being careful or wasn’t paying attention. But, Luke took in a sharp breath, the look of concentration immediately leaving his eyes. He seemed to panic for a second, watching the blood start to flow toward my wrist. 

“Oh my gods,” he said as I placed my other hand on the cut to staunch the bleeding. He grabbed a towel from a rack off to the side and handed it to me. 

“It’s fine,” I said, lifting the towel for a moment to examine the wound. It was only a couple of inches long, and not that deep, running horizontally across my forearm. 

Luke placed a firm hand on my shoulder, leading me toward the exit. We walked together to the Big House. He apologized profusely but I just dismissed him. I didn’t know why he was acting like this. 

We entered the infirmary, where Micheal Yew was glaring up at us from the doorway. He sighed as he saw my state and gestured for me to take a seat. I did and he started bandaging up my arm. He looked back and forth between me and Luke, who sat a little ways away. 

“How did you manage to do this?” Micheal asked, mostly out of politeness. 

I opened my mouth to speak but Luke caught my eye. As I watched, his eyebrows creased ever so slightly. I got the message: please? I turned back to Micheal. “I cut myself.” 

Micheal glanced back at Luke skeptically, but he didn’t press further. “Fair enough,” was all he said and finished his work without comment. 

During the nights, I would sneak out to the woods when everyone else was asleep. It was dangerous, of course, but it was the only place I could truly be alone. I snuck through the campgrounds under the cover of my invisibility cap, as I had gotten used to the feeling after multiple uses. Even so, I tried to only use it for short periods of time, and only when absolutely necessary. I laid on the grass, watching the stars through the trees, turning my knife in my hands. I would allow my mind to wonder about all the things I would do when I made it out into the real world. My dream was to be an architect, but I knew that was nearly impossible. Most demigods never made it to adulthood, as the monster attacks got more and more intense as you got older. Going to college, let alone earning a degree, was nearly completely out of the question. Still, I couldn’t help but hope. 

Once, on a dreary night in March, I sat hunched over my crossed legs, traced the leather wrappings on the handle of my dagger, and fantasized about killing an empousa. I turned at the sound of footsteps behind me. Thinking I was either being attacked by one of the numerous kinds of monsters that lived in these woods, or I was being caught after lights-out, I jumped up and raised my dagger defensively. I lowered it when I saw his sandy hair shining in the moonlight. 

“Annabeth!” Luke said, his eyes wide. “What are you doing out so late?” 

I sighed and sat back down on the grass. “I should ask you the same question.”  

He strolled over and sat down next to me. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said.  

“Well, there you are.”

He huffed a laugh. We sat in a comfortable silence for a couple of minutes. Eventually, I asked what had been on my mind the last few months. “Do you think Chiron will give a quest if Zeus’ situation doesn’t get better?”

He looked at me quizzically, as if he couldn’t understand why I was bringing that up. Finally, he said, “Maybe. If he does, it’ll be quite the ordeal.” 

”Well, obviously.” I muttered. “It can’t be just anyone who goes on a quest for Zeus. It’ll have to be someone important. Someone Chiron trusts.” 

He looked off into the distance, his mouth forming a slight smirk. “Do you think it’ll be you?” 

I couldn’t help but feel a well of embarrassment rising up in my chest. “You don’t have to be so demeaning.” 

He turned to me quickly. “Oh, no, Annie,” he said, backtracking. “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re probably the most capable person for the job.” 

“Really?” 

“Really,” he said, warmly. 

I looked down at my dagger. “I just wish I could prove that I’m not just a little kid.” 

“You are a little kid.”

I gave him a hard look and he laughed loudly.  “You know what I mean,” I said. 

He took my hands in his. “Annabeth, you are the smartest demigod I know. Trust me, if there is a quest, I bet it’ll be yours.”

I gave a small smile. He hugged me tight and kissed the top of my head. 

“Come on,” he said. ”Let’s get some sleep.” 

I followed him back to the cabins. His words echoed through my mind as I fell asleep that night. I knew that they rang true. I was one of the campers that Chiron trusted the most. And I’d watched him give quests to people my age before, although they were admittedly less important ones. 

There were a lot of “ifs” in my plan. If the situation on Olympus wasn’t resolved when Chrion returned for summer break. If  he gave a quest to do something about it. If something could be done about it. It was filled with a lot of unpredictability. But, one thing was for sure: I was going to do everything in my power to make it happen. 

———

Eventually, the warm air returned to us. Leaves and flowers sprouted up around the rolling hills. The satyrs and dryads buzzed around the grounds, excitedly preparing for the summer. This meant nothing to me, of course, except for the fact that it gave me more stuff to do. The last couple of years, I found every opportunity to help with the preparations where I could, preferring the commotion to the hollow monotony of the winter months at camp. Unfortunately, this gave me less time with my studies and training, which I normally wouldn’t have minded. This year, however, I wanted to focus all my efforts on getting that possible quest. So I found myself sneaking off when my work with the satyrs went on for too long. I avoided Mr. D at all costs, because he took every chance to put campers to work. I didn’t mind the manual labor, though, as it helped me build muscle. But, that was few and far between. 

When May rolled around, and schools started letting out for summer, kids both familiar and new began popping up at camp. Activities started to become scheduled and I actually began to enjoy myself. Even the other your-rounders seemed happier and more excited to be there. 

Capture-the-flag was my favorite, as always. Clarisse and I dominated at it and, this year, we were more often than not the team leaders. I was giddy with anticipation when Fridays would roll around, and would spend nearly all day strategizing for the game in the evenings. When my team would win, my face would be plastered with a dumb grin that wouldn’t fully go away until the following morning. The rest of the week, I would form and break alliances with the other cabins, considering the pros and cons of each team layout. We would barter with privileges, snacks from the camp store, shower times, chores, even time slots for activities. My cabin would defer to me on all matters concerning the game. 

Usually, the role of head counselor went to whoever was the oldest in a certain cabin. For the Athena cabin, that was technically Imala Blythe, a Lenape girl from Oklahoma, who was five years older than me. However, I had become an almost de facto head counselor that summer. There was an entire set of rules for challenging and resignation that I had consulted when I first came to camp, but hadn’t really thought about since. I supposed I could challenge Imala for the role if I wanted to, but she was so nice that I would have felt bad.  

Even so, I had taken over some of the Head Counselor duties. Most notably, the responsibility of tutoring the new campers in Ancient Greek had fallen to me. I could easily have grown resentful of Imala, but she had just finished her senior year and was more focused on her college plans than anything that was happening at camp. So, I didn’t really mind. 

 Chiron returned a few weeks into the summer term. I greeted him with a big hug when he rolled in through the entrance gate. He asked me about how the previous months had been. He, pointedly, I noticed, avoided discussing his time at the school, and I didn’t pry. 

“It’s been great,” I said. “Everyone’s been settling in really well. And activities have been running smoothly since summer began. Although, your archery lessons have been missed. But, Lee's been really helpful by taking over.”

He smiled down at me appreciatively as I walked with him down to the Big House. “Thank you, Annabeth.” He chuckled. “I wonder what we’ve got Mr. D for, when you seem to be on top of everything.” 

I knew he was just joking, but I couldn’t help but smile. 

As I helped him unpack his things in the Big House, he laughed as I told him stories from the previous months. When I asked him about the situation on Olympus, his smile disappeared, however. 

“I have been talking with my brothers and sisters in the Party Ponies. They all agree that something bad is happening. They’ve been making preparations for war, but I’m hesitant to jump to that conclusion. They’re trigger-happy, as you might say. However, the closer we get to the solstice—“ He stopped himself suddenly. 

“What’s on the solstice?” I asked. 

He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. He quickly changed the subject. I tried to take this as a good sign, but something about the way his shoulders tensed made my stomach drop. Whatever was happening was decidedly bad, but my hopes were renewed. And the summer solstice was only a few short weeks away. That meant something had to happen soon. 

I tried to remind myself that the more dangerous the quest would be, the more glory I could find in it. Even so, my mind reeled, wondering what could possibly be going on. Was seeking this quest really a good thing? Yes, I decided. I needed to prove myself, and a potentially world-shattering quest was the best way to do that. Right? 

All of this ran through my head as I trudged back to my cabin. The sun was high in the sky, but the protective shield around Camp kept the worst of the heat out. 

When I reached my cabin, I found it empty. This wasn’t unusual, but I tried to remember if there was an activity that I was supposed to be at. Then, I remembered that I didn’t really care. I snatched a book off the shelf and climbed up onto my bed, which was nearest to the door on the top bunk. 

Laid neatly on my pillow was an envelope with my name scrawled across it. It was in my father’s handwriting. This, again, wasn’t unusual. My father often sent me letters. They were normally about how much he missed me and wanted me back home. I didn’t believe a word of it. 

I was about to toss the unopened envelope into a nearby trash can when I felt something inside. Intrigued, I ripped it open. There was a letter in the same messy handwriting and a golden ring, glinting in the low light. I placed the letter on the bed next to me and turned the ring in my hand. It was solid gold except for a gray gem, which was surrounded by the words “Harvard University”. The sides were carved with the school’s seal. It was my father’s college ring, I realized. But why? Why would he send me this? It was one of his most treasured possessions, not to mention incredibly expensive. 

I gingerly placed the ring on my bedside shelf. Almost in a trance, I picked up the letter. It took me a while to decipher the words. Even then, I read it several more times to make sure what I was reading, my cheeks flushing.

“My dearest Annabeth, 

There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you. I’ve missed watching you grow up. You are worth more to me than anything I could ever buy or own. And I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like you were anything less than my entire world. I hope that you can look at my ring and be reminded of this.”

He went on to talk about my step-mother and their sons, Bobby and Matthew, who had just finished first grade. I stopped reading after a while. That first paragraph stuck with me. Usually, his letters were long and formal, but he spoke about his love for me in such a different style that it stuck out like a sore thumb. It was short and plain and simple. 

I burnt the letter in the bonfire that night. 

———

I watched the storm clouds gather on the horizon. The snowstorms had turned into rain as the weather warmed. The near-hurricanes around the perimeter had become a daily occurrence. It had been a day since Chiron had come back and there was no sign of Grover, but I tried not to worry. I knew he had a lot riding on this Protection assignment. Neither of us wanted it to end up like last time. 

I waited on the front porch of the Big House, alternating between reading and pacing the floor. Grover had said that this demigod was powerful, so I wanted to be there when he arrived. I waited well into twilight, when it had started raining. I could see the sheets of rain pouring down outside the borders. I glanced up at the sky every time a thunder clapped. 

Storms had been getting more frequent and intense, which worried me. Zeus was angry. Even worse, he was angry with the other gods. That meant that a war was not far off. 

A thump rang out behind me. I turned quickly, startled, but it was only Chiron, who clip-clopped on the wooden floor. He stared out at the flashes of lightning. I thought maybe he knew more than he was letting on. 

“Some storm, huh?” I said passively. 

He nodded and I returned to my reading. He just sat there, watching the trees. Finally, he said, “I have a bad feeling about tonight.” 

I looked up from my book. “What do you mean?” 

“I’m not sure.” And, with that, he turned back and started to make his way back inside. 

I stared off at the front gate again. I could see what he was talking about. The clouds crowded the night sky, making the darkness nearly impenetrable. 

Suddenly, something caught my eye. A figure, stumbling through the grass, something dragging behind them. 

“Chiron.”

He turned and looked at where I was pointing. Transfixed, he gave a curt nod and I took off towards the figure. 

The boy nearly collapsed when I pulled his arm over my shoulders. I saw that the thing he was dragging was another kid, who was muttering occasionally. I all but carried the boy to the porch. I laid him on the floor and his chest heaved up and down laboriously. I went back out to get the other one. 

As I dragged him into the light, I saw that the collapsed boy’s face, though caked with mud and glistening, was familiar. 

“Food…” he said weakly. His wet hair was plastered across his forehead. 

“It’s Grover!” I exclaimed. 

Chiron looked up with concern. “Bring him here.”

I carried him up the steps and laid him next to the other boy, who must have been the demigod he was protecting. I looked him up and down. He couldn’t have been older than I was, maybe younger. His face was impish and round, still plagued with baby fat. While he was reasonably fit, his features were skinny. From his spot on the floor, he looked excessively small. Despite this, I couldn’t help but square my shoulders as I looked him up and down. I don’t know if it was the Mist or something about my demigod abilities or if I was just fooling myself, but I could almost feel the power radiating off of this boy. 

Then, I noticed something about him that made my heart skip a beat. While Grover looked like he’d just jumped into the canoe lake, the other kid’s jet-black hair and his clothes were inexplicably dry. As I watched, the small water droplets on his skin quickly disappeared in steamy condensation. A small gasp escaped my lips. I locked eyes with Chiron, his face gaunt. 

Chapter Text

The worst nightmare I ever had happened two years earlier. 

Luke had left on his quest a few weeks before, and I tried my best to hide my jealousy. It had been a while since we’d heard from him, but I wasn’t very worried. 

I had been reading under the shade of an oak tree, across the way from the Big House when I heard footsteps on the grass and glanced up, annoyed. But I softened when I saw the look on his face. Chiron looked down at me with a careful, almost pitying expression. I marked my place, placed the book on the ground, and stood. 

“My child, there’s something I wish to show you,” he said. His face was gaunt and haggard. He even seemed to have more gray hair than usual. 

“Is it about Luke?” I asked, suddenly terrified. 

”Oh, no. Nothing like that. Just come with me.” He started off toward the Big House and I had no choice but to follow him. 

My fears were decidedly not absolved as he led me up to the uppermost floor. “Where are we going?” I asked. His eyes focused on the attic ladder, “You want me to go up to the Oracle?” I tried to not sound as thrilled as I was. 

“No,” he stopped himself. “I mean, yes. But do not call upon her. I want you to go and ask the Oracle for the Great Prophecy and bring it down to me.”

I just stood there for a moment. “Are you serious?”  

“Unfortunately,” he sighed, “I am serious.” 

So, I did as I was told. I had never been to the attic before, but I watched other demigods venture up here time and time again. They usually came back with shocked or terrified expressions. I steeled myself for what was to come. 

Upstairs, I waded through the trophies and prizes of past quests. I tried to keep myself moving as I looked at them. If Chiron wasn’t downstairs waiting for me, I might have spent an hour up there, just looking at all the stuff and reading their labels. I ran my hands over dented amour, jars full of pickled body parts, and steamer trunks. My fingers left trail marks in the dust wherever they touched. Finally, I reached the very back of the room. In front of an opaque window was the mummified body of a woman, wrapped in a tie-dyed dress. As I approached the wooden stool she was sitting on, I half-expected her to come to life and bring on a plague of locusts— Brendan Fraser-style— but nothing happened. Her glass marble eyes bore into me as I held out my palms to her, not entirely sure what I was supposed to do, suddenly feeling very silly and small. 

“O Oracle,” I paused. Again, nothing. I continued, “I ask for the Great Prophecy.” 

Silence. I huffed and stomped my foot impatiently. All at once, my eyes focused on her assortment of beaded necklaces. One of them stood out to me for some reason. Slowly, I reached out to it, careful not to touch anything else. It was a cord braided with feathers and had a pouch attached to it. Inside the pouch was a small roll of yellowed parchment. 

Chiron waited for me at the base of the ladder. Walking slowly, I showed him the roll of paper and his face hardened. We sat in a lounge on the fourth floor, in front of a large bay window. He watched the other campers going about their business outside. 

Eventually, he said. “Will you read it to me?” 

I unrolled the paper and looked at the cursive writing. Slowly, I read: “A half-blood of the eldest gods… shall reach sixteen against all odds. And see the world in endless sleep, The hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap. A single choice…”

I looked back up at Chiron. My hands shook. When he spoke, his voice was soft.  “Keep reading, Miss Chase.” 

I cleared my throat. I tried to keep my voice steady. “A single choice shall end… his days… Olympus to preserve or raze.”  A heavy silence fell over the two of us. My mind reeled. “The oldest god…” My voice was hollow. “That would mean Aphrodite. She’s the oldest.” 

“No, ‘gods’,” he said gently. “Implying male. And plural.” 

My eyebrows knit together. “But…” I started. I glanced out the window at the pine tree that guarded the front gate. “I thought that the Big Three swore not to have any kids.” 

He smiled tragically. “They did indeed. But, we both know that Zeus already broke that oath.” 

“Do you think Thalia—”

“No,” he said firmly. “But what, now, is to stop the others from producing children, as well? Zeus did not hide his betrayal, so what prevents Poseidon or Hades from doing the same?” 

I thought about that, even though I knew he was right. Only one question came to my mind. “Why are you telling me this?” 

He didn’t speak for a while. When he looked at me, his face was filled with a sadness that went far beyond that moment. For the first time, I fully appreciated just how old Chiron was. “Because I believe you will have a part to play in it.” My mouth hung open. I started to speak, but he cut me off.  “Not yet. Perhaps in a few years.” He turned and rolled across the room. He looked up at the pictures on the walls. I joined him after a moment. 

I digested what he was saying. A child of the Big Three gods was going to show up at Camp, which would kick off a series of events that would either save or destroy Olympus. And I would be involved somehow. I didn’t ask how he knew, as I could all but guess. Even then, I knew that I showed promise as a battle strategist. If there was a war in a few years, I would be one of the major players, at least on the demigod front. That was what I wanted, right? 

“So, my quest will come when… when that person shows themselves?” 

“Your role in the Great Prophecy is unclear. But I would not feel comfortable giving you a quest until we know that the Prophecy has begun.” 

What did that mean? My fate was reliant on someone else? And if another child of the Big Three never appeared in my lifetime, what would I do? Would I just fade into irrelevance? I wanted— no, I needed— to be someone great, do something substantial with my life. And, now, that was in the hands of someone I didn’t or maybe would never know. 

That night, I slept restlessly. Images of bodies, bloodied and disfigured, strewn around the campgrounds, in the city, and on Olympus. The world was burning, innocent mortals in an endless sleep in their homes and in the streets. I was at the center of it, the reason for destruction. My mother towered over the buildings, enraged and dissatisfied as she bore down on me. 

In the morning, I woke up with a start. I stared up at the ceiling as I waited for the sun to rise. 

———

The next few years were occupied by trying not to get my hopes up every time a new camper showed up. I couldn’t help but wonder if they were the one the prophecy spoke about. I would try to befriend them, but no one lived up to what I reasoned the demigod must be like. None of them were children of the Big Three, of course, but I knew that wasn’t indicative of  anything. Prophecies never mean what you initially think. 

So, when a boy showed up with his unnatural effect on the rainwater, I turned to Chiron, trying to mask my smile. The boy’s eyelids fluttered, revealing their bright green color. “He’s the one. He must be.” I said. 

Chiron glanced at me dismissively. “Silence, Annabeth. He’s still conscious. Bring him inside.” 

I tried not to get my hopes up as I carried him and Grover into the Big House, where I laid them on neighboring beds in the infirmary. A handful of Apollo kids, including Lee Fletcher and Micheal Yew, appeared within minutes. They got to work quickly, healing the boys’ injuries. I watched from Grover’s bedside. Funnily enough, the green-eyed boy didn’t have very many visible wounds, but Lee said he was simply too worn-out to awaken. Eventually, the Apollo kids filtered out until only Lee was left. He organized the supplies in the cabinets by the door. 

Grover gave a light cough and looked at me blearily. I took his hand gently. 

“Hey, Annabeth,” he croaked. 

“Glad you could make it.”  

He laughed lightly. Then, his face fell and he looked around frantically. “Where’s Percy?” He saw the green-eyed boy laying next to him. “Oh, Pan’s pipes, please tell me he’s okay!”

Lee looked up from his work. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s just knocked out, probably will be for a while.” 

Grover moaned and sat back onto his pillow. “This is so bad…” 

“Grover, it’s okay,” I said softly. “He’s going to be fine.”

“No,” his eyes brimmed with tears, “His mom. She—” He took a shaky breath. “We were being chased by the Minotaur. I didn’t really see it, but…” He glanced over at the sleeping boy empathetically. 

“Hey…” I placed a hand on his shoulder. “It— It happens, you know? It’s not your fault. I’m sure you did everything you could.” 

He smiled slightly, but didn’t look convinced. He spoke thickly, “Thanks…” He sighed and turned away, which I knew meant that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

I looked at the boy appreciatively, “He fought the Minotaur?” 

“Told you he was powerful,” Grover said. 

Eventually, Lee left to go back to his cabin for the night, leaving us alone. 

That night, I slept in a chair in the infirmary. Grover tossed and turned in his bed. When I awoke in the morning, he was gone, his crumpled blankets folded neatly on top. 

The green-eyed boy— Percy, Grover had called him— still lay passed out on the sterile white sheets. His mouth hung open as his head slumped to the side. I couldn’t help but stare at his features. He was cute in a geeky, skater-boy kind of way. He wore a t-shirt from a band I couldn’t place and flannel pajama pants, which we both soaked in mud. Not only did he fight the Minotaur, he must have won. This kid. 

He was moving ever-so-slightly, chasing something in his sleep. He was muttering, I realized. I leaned in closer to hear. 

“Mrs. Dodds…” The words were barely a whisper, “Please, don’t… What are you doing?” 

A rustling from the other side of the room made me jump, like I got caught spying. Micheal Yew was pulling supplies out of the cabinets, paying little attention to me. Michael was around my age, but he’d been at camp almost as long as I had. He had a shock of dark hair and severe features. He always looked like he was scowling at something. Even though he only came up to my shoulders, I generally tried to steer clear of him. He was bad-tempered and often got into fights with the other campers. And I’d seen how deadly he was with a bow. I watched him as he climbed up on stools to reach the highest cabinets. He pulled out a plastic canister that was filled with a viscous liquid ambrosia mix. He poured some into a bowl and placed a spoon in it. 

He faced me for the first time. “If you’re going to hang around, can you at least help out?” He said, annoyed. 

”Yeah, sure.”

He placed the bowl on Percy’s bedside table. “Try and get some of that ambrosia into him. If he wakes up, he can have something more solid, too.” He said. He turned to leave, then turned back, “Not too much,” he added. 

“Obviously,” I said. 

He crossed his arms and walked out hurriedly. Clearly, he had somewhere else he’d rather be. 

I took the spoon from the bowl and started shoveling the pudding-like ambrosia into his mouth. He swallowed it on instinct. I watched the pudding mix with the saliva that poured down his lips. This boy, who had defeated the Minotaur, and might very well be the one the Great Prophecy spoke about, was drooling as he was being spoon-fed like a baby. The last time I fed someone like this was when Bobby and Matthew had been little, before I’d run away. I have to admit, I laughed to myself a bit as I wiped his chin with the spoon. 

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and my smile disappeared. A thrill ran through my body. “What will happen at the summer solstice?” I asked, a little bit more frantic than I meant to. 

His eyebrows furrowed. “What?” he said gravelly. 

Suddenly, I was afraid someone would overhear. If he knew anything, I wanted to keep it to myself again. Just like I had with my dream on the winter solstice. “What’s going on?” I tried to sound calm. “What was stolen? We’ve only got a few weeks.” 

He stammered, “I’m sorry. I don’t…” 

Suddenly, a knock rang out from the doorway. I shoveled more ambrosia into his mouth so he couldn’t say any more. I turned to see Chiron at the door, his face etched with concern. When I looked back at Percy, he was passed out again. Thank the gods. 

“Was he awake?” Chrion asked. 

”Just for a little bit,” I said. 

Chiron rolled up to the other side of the bed. He examined Percy’s face for a while. Without looking away, he said, “You weren’t at archery lessons this morning.” 

“Oh… whoops,” I tried to sound like I’d forgotten. I hated archery lessons. I was terrible at it and the only redeeming factor was that the bow and arrows made me look cool. 

Chiron fixed me with a look of mild disappointment. I hated when he looked at me like that. “Why don’t you join your cabin? I believe they’re about to start arts-and-crafts.” 

I sighed and just stared at him, my arms crossed in protest. We had a sort of staring contest for a moment. Then, I relented, “Fine,” I huffed.

“I’ll ask Argus to watch over the boy so he’s not alone when he awakens,” he said, reassuringly. 

Chiron followed me to the arts-and-crafts center, to make sure I actually went where I said I was going. 

The rest of the day was a blur. I went through the motions of my scheduled activities. Most of them were tolerable, but there were a few that I couldn’t even force myself to care about. I understood why I needed to know about them, but that didn’t mean that I liked it. I had more important things that I wanted to do. For instance, figuring out everything I could about the situation on Olympus. 

Finally, when free time rolled around, I hurried back to my cabin, where I enclosed myself in research until dinner was announced. Surprisingly, nothing really stuck out to me from my readings. There had been many instances of the gods stealing from each other in the old stories. They were cute like that. 

Most notably, I remembered the story of Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and gave it to early humans. Zeus had been pretty upset after that as well, and this theory lined up with the flickering object I saw in my dream. I wondered if something similar had happened at the winter solstice. If so, the thief— whoever they were— should probably steer clear of eagles. I turned that idea over in my head as I laid awake in bed that night. 

Another day passed without much comment. I went about my activities, if only out of spite. In the morning, when I tutored the new kids, I had them read through my personal copy of the Iliad and tried to seem supportive as they stumbled through the pronunciation. I struggled to keep my eyes from glazing over as I followed along in Book Five. 

I shuffled through a sparring session with Luke. I knew he could tell my mind was elsewhere, but he said nothing as he pelted attacks. Afterwards, we sat in comfortable silence for a moment, sipping water. I glanced at him. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. His hair, which was unkempt, was a shade or two darker than it usually was. Even the scar across his face, which my eyes normally skipped over— as it had just become another part of his features— appeared to have grown deeper. He seemed to feel my eyes on him, because he straightened up a little and flashed a smile. 

The next day, I made a beeline to the Big House after breakfast, no longer able to contain myself. I didn’t have any classes in the morning and I was honestly getting impatient waiting for this stupid kid to wake up. I brought a book with me in case I got bored. Thankfully, neither Chiron nor Mr. D said anything about my pacing. Around the corner, on the other side of the wraparound porch, Percy had been laid out on a deck chair. Grover, who had been by his side for most of the previous day as well as that morning, had said that he had started stirring. 

I found Grover sitting on a chair next to Percy. His knee was bouncing up and down anxiously. There was a shoebox on the floor next to him, but I decided not to ask about it. Grover glanced back at me as I approached. 

“Hey,” he said. For a moment, we just watched the sleeping boy in silence. His clothes had been cleaned since I last saw him. 

“Who’s Mrs. Dodds?” I asked. 

He turned to me, almost startled, “How do you know that?” 

“He must have been having a dream about her the other day. He kept repeating her name in his sleep.”

“Oh,” he paused, “One of the Kindly Ones. She was posing as our pre-algebra teacher.” 

“He killed her, too?”

He glanced up at me, something close to pride glinting in his eyes, “Yeah.”

I went back and waited with Chiron and Mr. D at the card table so I wouldn’t come across as over-eager. I was staring out at a patch of grass, chewing on my thumb nail, when Chiron turned and smiled at me. 

“Miss Chase, we were just about to start a game of pinochle,” he said. “Would you like to join us? We can pass the time while we wait for Mr. Jackson to make an appearance.” 

I obeyed and sat down in one of the empty chairs, trying not to pay attention to Mr. D as he made a round of particularly bad jokes. 

About an hour later I was about to finally admit to Chiron that I really didn’t feel like learning how to play pinochle right then, when I heard voices coming from where Grover and Percy were sitting. I watched as they rounded the corner. The boy was taller than I initially thought. He was around the same height as Grover. His eyes were plagued by sleep and he walked shakily. In his hand, was a black-and-white horn, the Minotaur’s. Grover must have gone back and got it for him. 

As they approached us, Grover whispered in the boy’s ear, gesturing to each of us individually. The boy’s eyes focused on Chiron, then went wide in recognition. 

“Mr. Brunner!” He exclaimed. 

Chiron turned, seemingly realizing for the first time that he and Grover were there.

“Ah, good, Percy. Now we have four for Pinochle.” He smiled and gestured at the last empty chair. Percy sat, still gazing at his teacher in shock. 

Mr. D glanced at the newcomer, “Oh, I suppose I must say it. Welcome to Camp Half-Blood,” he sighed, “There. Now, don’t expect me to be glad to see you.”

Percy looked at Mr. D warily and I could’ve sworn that he moved his seat just a tiny bit away from him. “Uh, thanks,” was all he said. If he was afraid of our alcoholic camp director, I wondered how on earth he’d faced the Minotaur with such capability. 

Chiron raised his eyebrows and gestured to me vaguely. “This young lady nursed you back to health, Percy.” That was an overstatement, I thought. He turned to me, “Annabeth, my dear, why don’t you go check on Percy’s bunk? We’ll be putting him in Cabin Eleven for now.”

Grateful to have something to do, I stood and smiled politely, “Sure, Chiron,” I said. I passed Percy as I walked toward the porch steps. I froze for a second. I suddenly felt like I should say something to him. I glanced at the Minotaur horn still clutched in his hands. I was going to say something about it, and try to come across as cool and aloof, but at the last minute, I decided against it. “You drool when you sleep,” I said unemotionally. Okay, I thought, maybe too aloof . 

I sprinted down the porch before he could say anything. Making my way down the path to the cabins, I fiddled with my necklace, deep in thought. Next to the painted beads, I had strung the ring my father had given me, just so I wouldn’t lose it. I was so distracted I almost walked right past the Hermes cabin, where dozens of kids were lounging inside, talking loudly. It must have been their free time. I found Luke laughing with one of his brothers on his bunk. He looked a lot better today. The dark circles under his eyes had lessened and his features were light and friendly. He saw me hovering by the door and gestured for me to come over. I had to step over a group of kids sitting on the floor to get to him and sat down on the mattress as he leaned back against the bedpost to look at me. 

“Chiron wanted me to make sure the new kid’s bed was ready,” I said. 

He lolled his head lazily, “Ugh,” he said, “I almost forgot. His name’s Percy Jackson, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

He pulled himself to his feet. I watched him as he pulled out an extra sleeping bag from a trunk and flattened it out on an open spot on the floor. I just sat there for a while, watching him talk with a girl from across the room. He laughed and smiled, charming everyone around him and I couldn’t help but smile too. He just emanated so much joy and it was very contagious. He paused as he made his way back to me. His smile faded, looking me up and down as I lounged on his bedsheets. 

“Should you go and wait for them outside?” He asked, but it didn’t sound like a question. 

I acquiesced, smiling even though I probably shouldn’t have. I rose and made my way out the door. I leaned on the outside wall of Cabin Eleven and tried to lose myself in the book I’d brought along. 

I was in the middle of studying a diagram when I saw Chiron and Percy approaching me out of the corner of my eye. The boy was wringing his hands and glancing around anxiously. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

Chiron smiled pleasantly, “Annabeth, I have the masters' archery class at noon. Would you take Percy from here?” 

“Yes, sir,” I said. 

He turned back to Percy, leading him toward the open door, “Cabin Eleven. Make yourself at home.” 

Percy gazed off into the cabin, at the people laying on the bunks and on the floor. Slowly, he crossed the threshold and I followed. 

Chiron called after us. “Well, then. Good luck, Percy. I’ll see you at dinner.” 

Percy watched him go, then turned back to the other kids, who had risen out of respect. He stumbled back just a little, seemingly unable to keep going. I tried to keep my voice soft. “Well? Go on,” I said. He did and I introduced him to the others, “Percy Jackson, meet cabin eleven.” 

Travis Stoll was leaning against the post of the closest bunk. He narrowed his eyes at Percy, “Regular or undetermined?” He asked. 

“Undetermined,” I said, steeling myself for the groan that came. Luke stepped forward, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

“Now, now, campers,” he said, “That’s what we’re here for. Welcome, Percy. You can have that spot on the floor, right over there.” He pointed to the sleeping bag he’d laid out. 

“This is Luke,” I turned to Percy, “He’s your counselor for now.”

“For now?” Percy asked. 

Luke bent forward slightly, bringing himself down to the younger boy’s level. His voice was kind and effortlessly gentle. He explained, “You’re undetermined. They don’t know what cabin to put you in, so you’re here. Cabin Eleven takes all newcomers, all visitors. Naturally, we would. Hermes, our patron, is the god of travelers.” 

Percy nodded, glancing around the room again, “How long will I be here?”

”Good question. Until you’re determined.” 

“How long will that take?” 

I thought that was obvious. How long was it going to take for this kid to understand? He asked too many questions, and I forced myself to push down the rising irritation in the pit of my stomach.

An uncomfortable wave of laughter went across the cabin. Percy wouldn’t know it, I guess, but all of us saw how much of a stupid question that was. Some of the people here had been unclaimed for years. The gods’ actions weren’t up to your convenience. 

Percy’s expression was blissfully clueless. My cheeks flushing, I said, “Come on, I’ll show you the volleyball court.” 

“I’ve already seen it,” he said. 

My chest was tight, “Come on,” I repeated. I grabbed his arm and led him back out the door. As we walked away, the other kids giggled. I didn’t see it as them being mean, but rather at the sheer lack of knowledge that was apparent in Percy. He was almost naive, to us, and we knew that wouldn’t last. It was almost refreshing. 

When we were out of eyesight, I rounded on him, “Jackson, you have to do better than that.”

“What?” His expression was frustratingly blank. 

I looked at him. His eyes were wide and he was trying to hide his shaking hands. The top of my head rose a couple of inches over his. He was definitely my age, but I felt as if I was talking to a little kid. I shook my head, embarrassed, “I can’t believe I thought you were the one.” 

For the first time, he got defensive. Anger flashed in his eyes, “What’s your problem? All I know is, I kill some bull guy—”

“Don’t talk like that!” I was yelling now. “You know how many kids at this camp wish they’d had your chance?” 

“To get killed?” 

“To fight the Minotaur! What do you think we train for?” 

He squeezed his eyes shut, and took a deep breath. I tried to lay off just a little.

“Look,” he said, “if the thing I fought really was the Minotaur, the same one in the stories…” 

“Yes.” Maybe he was starting to understand. 

“Then, there’s only one…”

“Yes.” Where was he going with this?

“…And, he died, like, a gajillion years ago, right? Theseus killed him in the labyrinth. So…”

I was actually impressed that he knew that. Maybe he wasn’t as ignorant as I thought. When I spoke again, my voice was calmer, “Monsters don’t die, Percy. They can be killed. But they don’t die.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Oh, thanks. That clears it up.” 

“They don’t have souls, like you and me. You can dispel them for a while, maybe even for a whole lifetime if you’re lucky. But they are primal forces. Chiron calls them archetypes. Eventually, they reform.” 

I could almost see the gears turning in his head, “So… you mean if I killed one— accidentally— with a sword…” 

“The Fur—” I stopped myself, “I mean, your math teacher? That’s right. She’s still out there. You just made her very, very mad.” 

His eyes narrowed, “How did you know about Mrs. Dodds?” 

“You talk in your sleep,” I said flatly.

“You almost called her something. A Fury? They’re Hades’ torturers, right?” 

I nearly felt the impact of the name in the pit of my chest. I remembered the woman I saw on the hill the night Thalia died. For the briefest of moments, I wondered if it was the same one. Suddenly, I couldn’t look Percy in the eye, “You shouldn’t call them by name, even here. We call them the Kindly Ones, if we have to speak of them at all.” 

Percy screwed up his face and groaned, “Look, is there anything we can say without it thundering? Why do I have to stay in Cabin Eleven, anyway? Why is everybody so crowded together? There are plenty of empty bunks right over there.” He gestured toward Zeus’ and Hera’s cabins, which were empty, as usual. 

I shook my head, exasperated. I tried to remind myself that he didn’t know. He didn’t know any of it. “You don’t choose a cabin, Percy. It depends on who your parents are. Or… your parent .” I waited for realization to come to him, apparently in vain. 

He looked at me like I was crazy. He spoke slowly, “My mom is Sally Jackson. She works at the candy store in Grand Central Station,” he paused, his eyes were extra shiny, “At least, she used to.” 

I sighed, “I’m sorry about your mom, Percy. But that’s not what I mean. I’m talking about your other parent. Your dad.” 

 His face hardened, like an old wound, “He’s dead. I never knew him.”

”Your father’s not dead, Percy.”

 “How can you say that? You knew him?”

“No, of course not.” 

He was shouting, now, “Then, how can you say—?”

“Because I know you. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t one of us.” 

He scoffed and crossed his arms, “You don’t know anything about me.” 

I didn’t know him, that was true, but I knew his type, “No? I bet you moved around from school to school. I bet you were kicked out of a lot of them.” 

He immediately got defensive, “How—” 

But I kept going, “Diagnosed with dyslexia. Probably ADHD, too.” 

“What does that have to do with anything?” 

I recited the speech as I’d heard it explained hundreds of times: “Taken together, it’s almost a sure sign. The letters float off the page when you read, right? That’s because your mind is hardwired for Ancient Greek. And the ADHD— you’re impulsive, can’t sit still in the classroom. That’s your battlefield reflexes. In a real fight, they’d keep you alive. As for the attention problems, that’s because you see too much, Percy, not too little. Your senses are better than a regular mortal’s.” 

He thought about that for a moment. He looked me up and down, “You sound like…” he said, “you went through the same thing?”

I had. During the few years that I went to public school, the teachers told my father that I should be tested for ADHD. He didn’t want to believe it, of course. I was too good in school, and I got good grades, how could I have a learning disability? He never took me to get diagnosed, but after I talked with other demigods who had, I realized that I showed a lot of the same symptoms. The same with dyslexia, I didn’t know that I had it until I came to Camp. Even though I loved to read, I finally realized why I had so much difficulty with it. 

“Most of the kids here did,” I told Percy, “If you weren’t like us, you wouldn’t have survived the Minotaur, much less the ambrosia and nectar.” 

“Ambrosia and nectar?” He repeated. 

“The food and drink we were giving you to make you better. That stuff would’ve killed a normal kid. It would’ve turned your blood to fire and your bones to sand and you’d be dead. Face it. You’re a half-blood.” 

His eyebrows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak. But, to my relief, he was interrupted before he could ask another question. 

Clarisse’s voice rang out from across the way, “Well! A newbie!” She sauntered toward us with an evil grin plastered across her face. 

Chapter Text

I was sprinting down the path, watching the sky-blue paint of the Big House poke out through the trees. The sun had just begun to rise. My hair was slapping against my back, concurrent with my feet pounding on the ground. I was still wearing my pajamas, just a pair of basketball shorts and an event shirt— both of which had been handed down to me from an older camper. 

I flew onto the porch and into the entrance hall, allowing the screen door to slam behind me. Before I knew it, I was bursting through the infirmary. He was there, surrounded by some of the other campers, Chiron hovering near the door. He grunted softly when I tackled him with a hug. 

Luke  wrapped his arms around me, “Hi, Annabeth.” 

I sniffled, not saying anything in response, just enjoying the warmness of his embrace. 

Luke just scoffed, “Ugh,” he said quietly, so no one else would hear, “Don’t you go crying on me, now. I’ve already had a very damp morning.” 

I chucked and pulled away, looking into his face for the first time. It was half-obscured by bandages, and when he smiled, one side drooped grotesquely. 

Luke must have seen the look on my face, “Nerve damage,” he said, nonchalantly, “Apparently.” 

I looked around to the others who were still standing nearby. They were some of Luke’s friends, all of whom had since left Camp. They looked concerned, but carefully so. 

So, I took Luke’s hands in mine and blinked my tears away, “I’m so glad your back,” I said. 

He nodded and we sat together for a while, laughing and not talking about his quest or what had happened. It’s then that I noticed that something was missing from his eyes, like a light that had faded. I knew that something had gone wrong, but also I knew he didn’t want to talk about it. I didn’t want to pry. 

———

Something you need to know about Clarisse— she was a bully. I would never have said this out loud, but she was all of Ares’ worst qualities amplified. To the point where I couldn’t believe that Ares and Athena were so often compared to each other. Athena was nothing like Ares. Yes, they were both technically gods of war, but Athena always knew when and where to use violence to solve her problems. Ares knew no such divisions. Because of this, I didn’t have much respect for Clarisse. She’d come to Camp a few years before, already mean-tempered and bitter. She quickly saw how things stood and fought to prove herself worthy of her father’s lineage. She was a bully, through and through. 

I was wondering when she was going to show up. Word of Percy’s victory over the Minotaur had spread quickly throughout Camp during the last few days. And, of course, Clarisse would never have such a public display of power. She had to show everyone that she was still on top. 

I squared my shoulders and rested one hand on my belt, where my dagger hung in its sheath. I stood between Percy and the older girl. I looked up at her, “Clarisse. Why don’t you go polish your spear or something?”

She cocked her head innocently, “Sure, Miss Princess. So I can run you through with it Friday night?” 

I cursed at her in Ancient Greek, “Yeah, okay,” I said, “You don’t stand a chance.” 

The corners of her mouth curled up, but I could see the look of confidence flicker behind her eyes, “We’ll pulverize you,” she promised. She looked behind me at Percy, “Who’s this little runt?” 

I turned to face him as well. He was looking her up and down defensively, “Percy Jackson,” I gestured between the two of them, “meet Clarisse, Daughter of Ares.” 

“Like… the war god?” Percy asked. 

Clarisse narrowed her eyes, “You got a problem with that?” 

To my suprise, Percy took a step forward in challenging, “No,” he said, “But, that explains the bad smell.” 

I pushed down a shocked laugh. Clarisse’s face hardened and Percy took a stance, ready for a fight. 

“We got an initiation ceremony for newbies, Prissy,” Clarisse said with apparently as much sweetness as she could muster. 

“ Percy ,” he corrected. 

“Uh-huh. Come on, I’ll show you,” she turned toward the communal bathrooms at the edge of the cabins. Percy was ready to follow. He handed me the Minotaur horn that he was still holding onto and rolled up his sleeves.

I decided I should say something, “Clarisse—” I started. 

She spun towards me and got right up in my face, “Stay out of it, wise girl.” 

So I did. I held up my hands in defeat and watched as Clarisse took Percy by the neck and all but dragged him into the cinder-block building. He fought against her grip but she didn’t budge. 

I thought I should stay by them just to make sure nothing bad happened. I looked on anxiously as she shoved his head into a toilet bowl. She was snickering and making mean comments that I couldn’t quite make out. His hair poked out from in between her fingers. 

I glanced back out the door, wondering if I could slip away and get an adult— or at least an older kid. But then I heard it. Well, I guess heard is the wrong word. I felt it— a rumbling underneath my feet, then all around me. Clarisse’s smile faded and she stumbled back. All at once, water exploded from where Percy was sitting on his knees. Clarisse screamed and fell back as water sprayed her directly in the face. 

Before anyone could react, every water fixture burst, following Clarisse as she ran out the door. I tried to keep my book from getting wet, but it was useless. A great downpour flowed over me, soaking my clothes and shoes. 

Suddenly, everything stopped. All went quiet except scattered drips that echoed against the walls. I wiped my wet hair out of my eyes to see Percy, breathing heavy and eyes wide, completely dry. 

We sat there for a while, staring at each other and the ruined bathroom. Finally, Percy stood up slowly, like he didn’t know what he’d done. 

My voice was thin, “How did you…” 

He just shook his head, “I— I don’t know.” 

I let out a small breath, almost a laugh. He walked out the door like he was in a trance. I rung out my shirt and shorts into the mud as I followed him. 

Outside, Clarisse was laying on the grass, panting in rage. Other campers had come over to see what that commotion was. Clarisse fixed her eyes on Percy, and some of her siblings moved to keep her from him. 

“You are dead , new boy. You are totally dead,” she growled. 

He turned to her with an equally sharp gaze, “You want to gargle with toilet water again, Clarisse? Close your mouth.”

That really got her. She went to throw a punch before some of the older campers grabbed her arms and led her toward her cabin. They talked to her firmly, attempting to de-escalate the situation. 

I couldn’t stop looking at Percy, trying to figure him out. He was still breathing heavily and his eyes were still clouded with anger. He saw me staring at him. 

“What?” He snapped, then softened, “What are you thinking?” 

Poseidon. That’s what I was thinking. The name came to my mind without thinking about it. Water powers didn’t automatically mean that he was the son of Poseidon, of course. There were dozens of sea gods and goddesses that I could name just off the top of my head. Any of those could easily be his godly parent, I told myself. But, for whatever reason, none of those seemed like the right answer. I felt the same kind of energy emanating off of him as that night on the Big House porch. My stomach sank. I really, really hoped I was mistaken. Athena would not be pleased if I worked with a child of her greatest rival. 

I glanced back at Clarisse in the doorway of the Ares cabin, waving her hands animatedly and shouting. I couldn’t get hung up on him being a Big Three kid just yet, but there was one thing I could guarantee. 

I turned back to Percy, “I’m thinking… that I want you on my team for capture-the-flag.” 

———

I took him around to some of the places he hadn’t seen yet, as I was told. But, I wondered if he could tell that my heart wasn’t in it. I was itching to retreat to my cabin to do more research or maybe get in a training session at sword-fighting. Also, I was ready to get out of my wet clothes, which had already started to dry in the afternoon sun. 

Finally, I pointed him back toward the path that led from the canoe lake back to the cabins. “Listen, I’ve got some training to do,” I said. That wasn’t a complete lie, “Dinner’s at seven-thirty. Just follow your cabin to the mess hall.” 

He had returned to wringing his hands anxiously. He looked at me guiltily, “Annabeth,” he said, “I’m sorry about the toilets.” 

Why apologize to me? Clarisse got the worst of the blast. I shrugged, “Whatever.”

”It wasn’t my fault,” he insisted. 

I doubted that. He might not have known exactly what he was doing, but he was almost certainly in control of whatever had gone down back there. 

He let out a frustrated huff and stared out at the lake. His eyes went wide when he saw a pair of naiads staring back up at him through the water. He returned their wave, captivated. 

“Don’t encourage them. Naiads are terrible flirts.” 

He nodded and laughed deliriously, running his hands through his hair. “Naiads… Yeah, that’s it. I want to go home now.” 

I felt the irritation bubbling up in my chest again, “Don’t you get it, Percy?” I said, “You are home. This is the only safe place on earth for kids like us.” 

“You mean, mentally disturbed kids?” He laughed. I couldn’t tell if he was joking. 

“I mean not human . Not totally human, anyway. Half-human.” 

His smile faded, “Half-human and half-what?” 

“I think you know,” I said. I looked at him expectantly. Finally, I saw realization dawn on his face. Everything fell into place for him. 

His voice was the quietest I’d heard it, “God. Half-god.” He sat down on the shore, his knees up against his chest. He stared off at the horizon as he picked the grass out by the roots. 

I sat down next to him, abandoning any attempt to get away, “Your father isn’t dead, Percy. He’s one of the Olympians.” I could’ve sworn he was tearing up a little. I wanted to pat him on the shoulder, but I didn’t think he would’ve appreciated that.

His voice was raw, “That’s wild.”

I tried not to laugh, “Is it?” I asked, “I mean, what’s the most common thing the gods did in the old stories? They ran around falling in love with humans and having kids with them,” Usually without the humans’ consent , I thought, but I decided not to mention that fun little tidbit, “Do you think they’ve changed their habits in the last few millennia?” 

He stammered, “But those are just—” He took a deep breath and squeezed his eyes shut, “But if all the kids here are half-gods—” 

I interjected, “Demigods. That’s the official term. Or half-bloods.” 

He eyed me curiously, “…then who’s your dad?” 

So we were going to have another Q&A session? I sighed, “My dad is a professor at West Point. I haven’t seen him since I was very small. He teaches American history.” 

“He’s human?” 

“What? You assume it has to be a male god who finds a human female attractive? That’s called misogyny.” 

He rolled his eyes, “Who’s your mom , then?” 

I was enjoying this game, “Cabin Six,” I smirked. 

”Meaning…?”

“Athena,” I said, my voice firm, “Goddess of wisdom and battle.” 

“And my dad?”

“Undetermined, like I told you before. Nobody knows.”

 He sat up a little straighter, “Except my mother. She knew.” 

I shrugged again, “Maybe not, Percy. Gods don’t always reveal their identities, even to their… infatuates.” 

His features set with determination, like he was holding onto his last hope, “My dad would have. He loved her.” 

I doubted that, too. Percy’s father might have told his mother that he loved her, but there’s a difference between possession and love. The gods took what they wanted, and usually considered themselves above human desires. 

I looked at Percy’s expression, and decided not to tell him that. He would learn how things stood eventually, but perhaps it was better if he was naive for right now. “Maybe you’re right,” I said instead, “Maybe he’ll send a sign. That’s the only way to know for sure— your father has to send you a sign claiming you as his son. Sometimes it happens.” 

“You mean, sometimes it doesn’t?” 

I nodded reluctantly and Percy’s face fell. I sighed, “Look, the gods are… busy. They have a lot of kids and they don’t always… Well, sometimes they don’t care about us, Percy. They ignore us.” 

A righteous anger flashed in his eyes, “So… I’m stuck here? That’s it? For the rest of my life?” 

I spoke carefully, “It depends. Some campers only stay for the summer. If you’re not a threat, the monsters might ignore you, so you can get by with a few months of summer training and live in the mortal world the rest of the year. But, for some of us, it’s too dangerous to live at home. We’re year-rounders. Most of the time, they’ll ignore us until we’re old enough to cause trouble— about ten or eleven years old, but after that, most demigods either make their way here, or they get… killed off. A few— very, very few— manage to survive in the outside world.” 

“So, monsters can’t get in here?” He asked. 

“Not anymore. Not unless they’re intentionally stocked in the woods or specially summoned by someone on the inside.” 

“Why would anyone intentionally summon a monster?” 

“Practice fights,” I said, “Or practical jokes.” 

“Practical jokes?” 

I looked over at him. His face was plastered with such a look of shock that I couldn’t help but laugh. I had to admit, it was nice talking with him, knowing that I had all the answers, “The point is, the borders are sealed to keep mortals and monsters out. From the outside, mortals look into the valley and see nothing unusual, just a strawberry farm.” 

I recalled the stories I’d heard of campers who’d been here before I was, how many break-ins there were. They had to have a patrol twenty-four hours a day, but even then some monsters slipped by. Death and injury were commonplace. But, ever since Thalia’s sacrifice, that hadn’t been as much of a problem. She hadn’t only brought us protection, but relative peace as well. 

Percy was silent for a while, and I sat with him, not sure if I should say anything. 

Finally, he spoke up, “So… you’re a year-rounder?” 

“Yeah,” I said and pulled out my necklace. Everyone who’d been at Camp for longer than a year had an identical one. Mine had five beads, “I’ve been here since I was seven. Every August, on the last day of summer session, you get a bead for surviving another year.”

“Why’d you come so young?” He asked, something close to pity on his face.

I turned away, “None of your business.” Immediately, I regretted snapping. 

He was taken aback, but didn’t look too offended, “Oh,” he said, “So…” he continued, “I could just walk out of here if I wanted to?” 

“Well, you could . It would be suicide, but you could, with Mr. D’s or Chiron’s permission. But they wouldn’t give permission until the end of the summer session, unless…” 

“Unless…?” He prompted. 

“Unless you were granted a quest. But that hardly ever happens. The last time…” I trailed off. The last quest that had been Luke’s. No one had been given one since. 

Percy changed the subject once again, “Back in the sick room, when you were feeding me that stuff—”

”Ambrosia.”

”Yeah,” he said, “You asked me something about the summer solstice.” 

I turned to him quickly, thrilled, “So you do know something?” 

“Well… no,” He stammered, “Back at my old school, I overheard Grover and Chiron talking about it. Grover mentioned the summer solstice. He said something like we didn’t have much time, because of the deadline. What did he mean?” 

I shook my head, lips pursed, “I wish I knew!” I sat back, staring out at the horizon. Percy looked at me expectantly and I thought about telling him what I had pieced together. For whatever reason, I decided I could trust him. I turned to face him conspiratorially. I felt giddy, my stomach buzzing with anticipation, “Chiron knows, but he won’t tell me. Something is wrong in Olympus, something pretty major. Last time I was there, everything seemed… normal .” 

“You’ve been to Olympus?!”

I chuckled a little and nodded, “Some of us year-rounders— Luke and Clarisse and I and a few others— we take a field trip during the winter solstice. That’s when the gods have their big annual council.” 

“How do you get there?” 

“Route twenty-seven. You get to Manhattan through the Midtown tunnel. The Empire State Building is on West 34th and fifth. Then there’s a special elevator to the six-hundredth floor,” He was looking at me like I was crazy again, “You are from New York right?” 

He just blinked and shook his head, “Oh, sure…” 

“Well, while we were there, the weather got weird, as if the gods had started fighting. The best I can figure out is that something was stolen. And… if it isn’t returned by the summer solstice, there’s going to be trouble,” I looked away, suddenly really nervous. I looked down at my hands, fiddling with my still wet t-shirt. “When you came, I was hoping… I mean— Athena can get along with just about anybody, except for Ares. And of course she’s got the rivalry with Poseidon. But, I mean, aside from that, I thought we could work together. I thought… maybe you might know something. I have to get a quest. I’m not too young. If they would just tell me the problem, maybe I could…” 

I looked back up at Percy, his face plastered with exhaustion. He seemed to be all out of questions for now and was looking at the dining pavilion, where smoke was rising up from the kitchens. I wondered if I was being a bother, dumping out all my problems to him. 

“You go on ahead,” I said, “I’ll see you later, okay?”

He nodded, “Alright.” 

He left me there alone, where I sat stewing over the situation for a while. 

A sound rang out over the water, pulling me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see a pair of older kids laughing together on a canoe. They were splashing and teasing each other playfully. I rolled my eyes and took off towards my cabin. 

Chapter Text

That first night, I fell asleep in front of a television. 

I remember the feeling of my heart pounding in my chest, my stomach turning. I crept through the kitchen, my school backpack slung across my shoulders. It was filled with a couple of pairs of pants and tops. I had stolen my father’s winter jacket from the back of his office chair and stuck my hands in the pockets, grateful to have been met with a couple of dollars in loose change. I was still in my pajamas, and I wrapped the oversized jacket around my body. 

I shoved food into my backpack, not paying much attention to the contents as I opened and closed the cabinets as quietly as I could. I crossed to the front door, and clicked open the lock. I caught the screen door with my foot to keep it from slamming. On the pavement, the snow crunched and soaked through my shoes. I twisted the doorknob before I closed it to avoid any extra noise.

Trudging over the snow-covered paving stones, I crossed the threshold that separated the yard from the road. It was colder than I anticipated. 

I looked back at the house one last time. It was two stories, and relatively nice. I found the window I knew connected to my father’s bedroom. The inside was pitch-black and impenetrable, impossible to make out a single thing that lay beyond. I turned around to face the street, illuminated by street lights. And just like that, I left. 

I don’t know what I expected. Maybe to feel some sense of thrill or perhaps a relief. But instead, I felt nothing. I supposed another kid would be sad to leave home. If I were normal, maybe I would, too. 

I didn’t really have a plan for where I would go. I knew I had family I could trust in Boston, a cousin my age and an aunt who seemed nice enough. But, it would take over a week to walk there (believe me, I checked) and I couldn’t find their phone number in any of my father’s papers. I decided that I would try to head that way eventually. Although, I had no idea how I would get there or what I would tell them when I did. 

So, I made my way toward the city. We lived in a suburb just outside of Richmond, but I spent the rest of the night and into the next day trekking through the woods, shivering. I was afraid to use the main roads, because I didn’t want someone to see a young girl walking alone and go all “concerned citizen” on me. 

I grabbed the sharpest tree branch I could find. When the monsters came for me, I didn’t want to be caught unarmed. Surprisingly, nothing showed up. Surely they would sense my presence in that way that they always did? And now I was alone, with no one to protect me. But, by the time I made it to the city, I was feeling very lucky that I hadn’t been bothered yet. I know now, however, that they were simply lying in wait, sizing up the new smell.

As I reentered the streets, I tucked the stick into my waistband and under my shirt so that no one would see it. Willfully, I didn’t make eye contact with anyone that I passed and tried to look like I knew where I was going. I imagined what I looked like to passersby, a little girl, dirty, drowning in a men’s puffer jacket, by herself. But, apparently, I didn’t need to worry. Everyone I passed overlooked me, like I was an everyday sight. 

I found myself at the public library. My father often took me there when he had special work to do. At least, he used to before he met my stepmother and the twins were born. He would disappear into the upstairs reference section and let me have free reign of the children’s area on the ground floor. I enjoyed those times. I wasn’t allowed to use the computers, like many of the other kids, but I kept myself busy with the picture books. It was nice to be in a place where I wasn’t expected to interact with anyone. I could just mind my own business and everyone else did too.

This time, I made a beeline for the bathrooms, afraid that one of the librarians would recognize me. I gulped down water at the fountain. It took a while for my mouth to stop feeling like sandpaper. In the bathroom, I washed my face of the dirt I’d picked up from my trek. There was a sink lower than the rest that I was able to reach. It was only then that I realized how tired I was. I don’t know if I’d slept a wink the previous night out of anticipation. 

I returned to the main room, where I could see the children’s section. There were a couple of kids, my age and younger, playing with some of the toys. There was a teenager at a computer and an old librarian with a shock of white hair and a kind-looking face. She was humming something under her breath and working on an arts-and-crafts project. 

I sat down heavily on a cushy chair near the window. My eyes fluttered and I was forced to stifle a yawn. Without thinking, I placed my backpack at the ground near my feet and curled up on the seat. I adjusted the stick so that it wouldn’t dig into my stomach. 

I watched the librarian as she was cutting a piece of purple paper, her expression pleasantly neutral. She was doing one of those paper-doll chains. The scissors glided across the outline swiftly and skillfully. The last thing I remember before I fell asleep was her cutting the head off of a little purple man. 

When I woke up, the room was dark. The sun had set outside and the only light was that which bled in through the parking lot and the street. I rose slowly and carefully. My voice shook as I spoke, “Hello?” 

The sound rang hollow. The room felt much emptier than it had before. I wondered if the library had just closed and no one saw me. Maybe I could just sleep here tonight? I wouldn’t be ideal, but at least I had somewhere to go. I turned to go back to the chair I’d been sleeping in, impressed with my luck again, when another voice responded. 

”Who’s there?” The voice was frail and raspy, but soft, like a scratchy blanket. 

A flashlight beam appeared down the hall, near the front desk. My stomach dropped like it did whenever I got in trouble. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling now more than ever, “I just accidentally fell asleep. I can go.” The flashlight continued to approach me, but I couldn’t make out anything but a figure behind it. 

“Where are your parents?” 

“Um… they’re…” 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m— I’m seven-and-a-half.” 

“A little one like you shouldn’t be all alone like this.” 

“I know. I can just go. I’ll go back to my parents.” 

The old woman got closer. I could make out the overall details of her face. It was the lady I’d seen earlier at the crafts station. I recognized her by the stark white of her hair. Her face, though still kind-looking, was very pale, almost blending into the color of her hair. She shone the flashlight into my face, so I couldn’t get a good look at her. 

She cocked her head, “What’s your name, little one?”

”Uh… Annabeth.” I squinted through the bright light.

“Annabeth,” She said slowly, like she was feeling the way her mouth formed around it. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

“You’ve been a bad girl, Annabeth.” 

“I— what?” As I brought my hand up to shield my eyes, I noticed that her face seemed to be increasing in paleness. On instinct, I placed my hand on the stick underneath my shirt. 

“You shouldn’t have left your parents.” 

She bared her teeth animalistically. I realized with a start that her body was transforming, her back hunching and ears elongating. I backed away, pulling the stick from my waistband to hold it out, hands trembling. My fingers barely wrapped around the circumference. 

The woman no longer looked friendly or kind, instead crossing a border between human and animal. 

“What are you?” I asked. 

In a low growl, she said, “I’m the original boogeyman, sweetheart. Mormo, is what they called me. And I eat children who misbehave.” 

The monster lunged at me and I swung wildly. My stick made contact with the side of its face, but it didn’t so much as flinch and the creature tackled me and slammed me against a bookshelf. 

Its paws were on my chest, pinning me to the hard wood and making it difficult to breathe. I could see the window looking out onto the parking lot. There were still a couple of cars. 

“Help!” I shrieked, “Help me!” 

The creature laughed without humor. When it spoke, its voice was stripped of its previous coziness, “Oh, no one’s going to help you, little one. It’s just you and me.” 

It growled deep in its throat, its maw dripping with saliva. I looked around frantically, searching for any sign of rescue. Then, I looked up. The impact had knocked some books loose, some nice and heavy ones. I got a good footing on the carpet and slammed myself into the shelf once more. The books fell right on top of its head. 

Taken aback, the monster’s grip on me lessened for just a moment, but that was all I needed. I scooted down and ducked between the creature’s front and back legs. I took off sprinting through the maze of bookshelves. 

I could hear the monster calling out after me. I collided with the glass side door, finding it locked. The creature sprinted towards me on all fours. As it pounced, I took my stick and smashed the glass of the door. Alarms blared all around the building. I didn’t look back and took off down the sidewalk. 

The creature roared in rage behind me. But, it didn’t seem interested in following me out into the street. Either that or it lost my scent in the city. Even so, I didn’t stop running until the library was at least two blocks away. It couldn’t have been that late at night, because there were still plenty of cars on the roads and I pushed past groups of people on the sidewalk. 

My breath came hot and fast. Shoulders aching, I found an alleyway and collapsed next to a trash can. A diner glowed nearby. 

The creature’s words echoed over and over in my mind. It was right, I realized. I shouldn’t have left home, but I couldn’t go back. I wondered what my father and stepmother were doing right then, if they were sick with worry, or if they were just moving on, business as usual. I didn’t know which was worse.

I felt my stomach grumbling. This was the longest I had ever gone without eating, barely more than a day. I hadn’t had any meals since supper the previous night. I reached around for my backpack. My stomach sank when I realized it wasn’t there. In my ferver, I had left it on the library floor. But I knew I couldn’t bring myself to go back to that place. 

Tears started streaming down my face. I was hungry, exhausted, hurting, and alone with no food and no clothes. I wrapped my father’s jacket around myself to block out the cold air. 

Across the way at the diner, a television gleamed on the wall. I could make out the local news station playing on it. My father liked to have the news on for background noise while he worked. So I knew that they did a segment every night on local missing children. They would plaster picture after picture on the screen, pleading for anyone who had any information to help return them to their parents. 

I watched the television intently, even scooting closer so that I could get a good look. The segment came and went, but my face never appeared. No one was looking for me. To this day, I’ve never felt more alone. 

I killed my first monster the next morning. 

 ———

The next time I saw him, Percy was wearing an orange camp t-shirt. He was sitting at the Hermes table, right next to Luke. Percy had been glued to his side, copying Luke’s actions as he gave his burnt offering. I watched him as he sat back down with his food and sipped on a strange blue-colored drink.

Someone elbowed me in the ribs. I started, turning to Imala, who was sitting next to me. Her tan face shone in the torchlight and she smirked down at me, “Didn’t your daddy ever teach you not to stare?” 

I looked down at my own drink, a flavored water, “I guess not.” 

Imala hummed as she took a bite out of a roll of bread, “Anyone who didn’t know better might say you have a crush on that new kid.” 

We glanced back over at Percy. He was making a face at a piece of fruit as he poked it with a fork. “Yeah, okay,” I said. Imala chuckled deeply. 

We fell silent as Mr. D announced the standing of the ongoing capture-the-flag competition. The Ares cabin was in the lead, much to my dismay. As was tradition whenever we had a new addition, he introduced everyone to Percy, whose face had turned a deep shade of fuchsia at the sudden attention. Chiron made sure Mr. D got his name right. 

After the sun had gone down, we all migrated over to the amphitheater, where a fire had been lit in the pit. I scooted over to Luke’s side. Some of the Apollo kids started a cheesy campfire song. The flames burned a bright yet muted orange. Luke glanced at me as I sat down next to him. We were in the back, where no one could see that we weren’t doing the motions. Lee, in particular, was notorious for calling out people who weren’t participating, so we slouched down into the shadows. 

“Hey,” I said, “Imala wanted me to ask if you wanted to ally with us for Friday.”

“Alright. But, Travis specifically said that I should ask for your shower time instead of our usual deal.” 

Our usual deal was the later sword-fighting session in exchange for (presumably stolen) goods from the camp store.

“We don’t want your shower time, though. It’s too late in the day, there’s never hot water left.” 

“Exactly.”

I groaned, “Fine, but you’d better get us some really good stuff this time. Like, candy or something.” 

“Do you want to ally or not?” 

I rested my elbows on my knees and squinted down at the fire below, “Yeah,” I grumbled. He chuckled at my expression and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Tell you what,” he ran his hands through his hair, “I’ll get you one of those sodas that you really like and we’ll call it a deal.” 

The soda that I liked was called Oneiroi Lite and it was supposed to be a treatment for bad dreams, but I just liked it because it had a lemony flavor that was similar to mortal Sprite. 

Down at the fire, someone had started breaking out the plastic bags of marshmallows and chocolate. 

“I’ll only agree to it if you make me a s’more,” I grinned.

He laughed again and winked, “You drive a hard bargain, Miss Chase.” He rose and trundled down the steps. Yanking a tree branch from the ground, he stabbed a pair of marshmallows on top and saluted me as he rotated the stick over the fire. 

———

“I don’t want to take cold showers!” 

Back at the cabin, I was sitting on Imala’s bed, which was the bunk below mine, as she brushed her teeth in the cabin’s bathroom sink. I was already in an oversized t-shirt that I wore as a nightgown. We had been talking about my conversation with Luke when Jian, a foul-mouthed fourteen-year-old who’d come to Camp at the beginning of the summer, overheard. He had his hands on his hips and his voice rang through the room, causing the others to turn in response. Some who were already in bed looked up, annoyed. Jian didn’t seem to notice, though. 

 “Oh, hush up. It’s good for your immune system,” Imala’s voice was muffled and her toothbrush bounced up and down in her mouth. 

“I don’t give a flying—“ Jian was cut off as someone’s pillow collided with his face. Giggles rippled throughout the room. 

Even though the corners of Imala’s mouth were curled up, she kept her expression neutral. She disappeared for a moment to spit in the sink.  When she returned, not only Jian, but most of the cabin had drawn their attention ever-so-slightly to see how she would respond. If she noticed the attention, she didn’t let it show. 

“First of all,” she began, “It’s not gonna kill you to take cold showers for a few weeks. We’ll get our regular sword-fighting time slot back and we can always negotiate better stuff before they make their run,“ After a moment, Jian sucked in a breath, stamped his foot, and grumbled something as he walked away, “Second of all, you’ve got to stop taking these bad deals, Annabeth. I’ll admit, this one’s not that bad, but we’ve got to stand our ground. People are going to notice and start taking advantage of us.” 

“I didn’t have a choice,” I said, adamant, “We need Hermes on our side if we want to win this week.”

Imala crossed her arms. She wasn’t really mad, I could tell. She rarely ever got mad. She was like Luke in that way. They both consistently maintained an easy-going attitude, no matter what happened. They only got angry if their sense of justice was compromised. 

“Why’s that?” She asked. 

“Because I have a plan,” I said simply. 

She opened her mouth to speak, then sighed and shook her head. She crossed over to the doorway, “Okay. We’ll talk about it more in the morning. Lights out.” She flipped the light switch, plunging the cabin into darkness. 

I climbed the familiar path up onto my bed, where I fiddled with the ring on my necklace, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the low light. 

———

I tutored Percy in Ancient Greek first thing the next morning. When I arrived at the dining pavilion, he was struggling over his breakfast, trying hard to stay awake. Clearly, he wasn’t used to getting up that early. 

After breakfast, I met him at his table and led him over to the picnic benches overlooking the beach. I went through some basic pronunciation and grammar. He picked it up very quickly and he knew— almost intrinsically— what the Greek words meant, like most demigods did. 

Over the next three days, this became routine. By Thursday, Percy was able to read full passages, albeit haltingly: 

“‘Ó pópoi… oíon dí ny theoús vrotoí aitióontai,’” he read, “‘Ex iméon gár fasi kák émmenai: oi dé kaí aftoí sfísin… ata— atasthalíisin ypér móron álge échoisin.’” 

“Good,” I said, “What’s that in English?” 

“Um…” He thought for a moment, “‘Behold?’” He looked up for confirmation. I nodded and he continued, “‘Mortals are quick to blame the gods. They say that we plan bad things for them. But they, in their evil, plan worse things than fate does.’”

”Yeah, essentially,” I checked my watch, “Okay. That should be it for today. I have archery in ten, and you have wrestling, right?”

He nodded vaguely. I stood and began gathering up my books and things from the picnic table, but Percy was frozen in place. 

“You coming?” I asked. 

He furrowed his brow, “I just— I don’t get it.” 

“Get what?” 

“What I just read. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh,” I sat back down, “I mean, people do bad things. And it’s not always the gods’ fault.” 

Looking out at the horizon, he said, “I guess.” 

Spoiler alert: I didn’t go to archery. Chiron seemed to have given up on reprimanding me for my truancy, although he had taken to giving me disappointed looks whenever he saw me. Which might have been more annoying. 

Instead, I walked the perimeter of the campgrounds, staying in the shade wherever I could. After hours of this, I began to see the smoke rising from the kitchen, indicating that lunch was soon. 

I passed the sword-fighting arena. The floor had been transfigured for the purposes of the wrestling class. The Ares and Hermes cabins surrounded a large mat, where pairs of campers were sparring. I looked on from afar, pretending to be distracted by a dandelion. 

Luke’s ashy blonde hair rose up above the others. I watched as he spoke with Chris Rodriguez, an unclaimed boy of about fifteen. Although not certain, Chris’ parentage had been assumed to be Hermes. He and Luke shared a special friendship, often sparring and hanging out together. 

On the floor, two more campers were called up. To my suprise, Percy nervously mounted the raised mat. Clarisse quickly volunteered to be his opponent. 

The match didn’t last very long. Percy was too hesitant to make any serious moves, whereas Clarisse was absolutely out for blood. The others watched on nervously, watching to make sure she didn’t go too far. Finally, Clarisse got him into a hold and someone called the match. She held him there for a moment or two longer, just because she could, I guess. 

Clarisse smirked as she walked back to her siblings, who slapped her on the back. Then, Chris pulled her aside and the two began talking animatedly. Clarisse was clearly upset by something that he was saying and Chris, ever the pacifist, had his hands raised in mollification. She stormed off after a while, vehement. 

That evening, after dinner, Imala and I went back to the cabin to plan for the next day’s activities instead of going to the campfire. We poured over a map of the woods projected onto a dry erase board. Imala scribbled on it with a marker.

We decided that we were going to take the Apollo and Hermes cabins as allies this week, and let Clarisse have her pick of the rest. Even so, numbers weren’t a problem, as we had the two largest cabins, bigger than all the rest of them combined. We also had the most traditionally athletic campers, overall. I was confident about our odds, but… 

“I think I have a way to distract Clarisse,” I said. 

Imala cocked an eyebrow, then gestured for me to continue. 

“Okay,” I took a deep breath, “So, Clarisse hates that new kid, Percy, because of his stunt with the Minotaur. She’s been finding every opportunity to beat up on him. So, I’m thinking if we can get him here,” I pointed to a spot near the river border, “And when she goes after him, she’ll be forced to leave their flag basically unattended.” 

Imala shook her head, “She’ll just put some of the others at the post.” 

“Who? The Aphrodite kids? You don’t think we can take them?” She opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, “And even if she used some of the other Ares kids for guard, we still have the superior numbers. We can overpower them, easy. Especially when they’re missing their leader.”

She tilted her head back and forth, deep in thought. She sighed, “I mean… I don’t know how I feel about using him as bait.” 

“He won’t figure it out. And neither will Clarisse, as long as we’re not too conspicuous.” She didn’t look satisfied. “I can be there,” I continued, “I can use my invisibility cap and make sure he doesn’t get too hurt.”

“Make sure he doesn’t get hurt. Period,” She insisted, “We’re not going to put him in danger for some dumb game.”

“Of course.”

The corners of her mouth tilted up, “It’s pretty good, if I’m being honest. Using her own pride against her. It’s like a Walmart version of the Trojan Horse.”

I nodded, “Percy’s the horse.” 

Imala hummed in agreement and looked over the map one last time. She caught my eye and said, “If anything happens to this kid, Annabeth, I swear. I’m counting on you, alright?” 

“Alright,” I asserted, “I won’t let you down. I promise.” 

She pursed her lips then returned to writing on the board, muttering quietly under her breath. 

———

The next day, I caught Luke up on the plan when both of our cabins had freetime and we decided to head out on a canoe. He rowed us out to the center of the lake, where no one would overhear. As I unraveled the strategy, an impish grin spread across his face. 

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckled, “that’ll work. See, I knew you’d get us that victory. The Ares cabin might get the brawns, but Athena’s always two steps ahead with a good plan.” He leaned back against the side of the boat, chewing on a reed he’d plucked from the shore, looking shockingly like a cowboy.

I smiled, ”If I do say so myself.” 

He took the reed out of his mouth and pointed it at me lazily, his eyes sparkling in the afternoon light, “You know… I’ll keep you around. I knew I picked you up for a reason.”

I picked up a glob of moss from the surface of the lake and flung it into his face. Luke laughed loudly. 

“Hey!” He wrinkled his nose and wiped the green gunk from his cheek, “Jerk,” he mumbled, trying hard to feign offense. 

I giggled, “I’m the jerk?”

He ran his hands through his hair and went back to fiddling with the reed, “Mmhmm.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a while. I leaned over the side of the boat and ran my fingers through the water, watching the way the pond scum broke apart in graceful swirls. 

“I wouldn’t count him out,” Luke said, breaking the silence. 

I looked up, resting my chin on my arms on the canoe side. 

“The new kid,” he gestured vaguely toward the cabins, “Percy. You should’ve seen him in sword-fighting the other day.” 

“Was he good?” I asked.

Luke let out a huff of breath, almost a laugh. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, “Yeah.” 

The rest of the day was a blur. I was jittery, giddy with anticipation. Before I knew it, we were standing in the dining pavilion, in the midst of the fading sunlight. Imala, another Athena kid, and I carried the gray silk banner to the cheers of the others. Clarisse and her siblings ran in on the opposite side with the blood-red Ares banner. 

Chiron announced the teams and stated the rules. Then, he spread his arms and equipment materialized on the tables, armor according to our size and preferred weapons laid out in front of us. I strapped myself in and slung my dagger on my belt and put my cap in my pants pocket. At the Hermes table, Luke showed Percy how to put on his armor. The younger boy shifted uncomfortably under the weight. He ran his fingers through the azure plume on his helmet before putting it on. 

On the other side of the pavilion, Clarisse smirked as she helped Silena adjust her armor. Silena looked over her shoulder and smiled gratefully. They put on their identical red-plumed helmets. Strapped to Clarisse’s back was her electric spear. It wasn’t on right then, but I vividly recalled the way that it emanated a menacing red glow. It was a formidable weapon, especially when it’s inches from your chest.

Once everyone was finished getting ready, Imala nudged my shoulder lightly. She tilted her head toward our team. I got the message: You lead. 

I raised my eyebrows: Are you sure?

She nodded. I took a deep breath. In a loud voice, I said, “Blue team, forward!” 

The other campers quickly fell in line behind me. I guided the group over to the path that led towards our base in the South. Clarisse and the red team went North. We walked nearly single-file through the woods. Eventually, people pulled out flashlights to light the way. Behind me, I heard some of the others laughing and jostling each other, but I kept my eyes forward, focused on running the plan over in my mind. 

Suddenly, there was a loud metallic clanking. I turned around to see Percy, nearly tripping over himself to catch up to me. He trundled in his armor uneasily, trying to navigate the uneven path. He managed to make it to my side without eating dirt. 

“Hey,” he gasped, “So… what’s the plan? Got any magic items you can loan me?” 

His smile was a little too eager, like he was waiting for some kind of reaction. On instinct, I checked my pocket, but my cap was still there. I’d been spending too much time with Luke, I guess. He was always swiping my stuff, just for a laugh. “Just watch Clarisse’s spear. You don’t want that thing touching you,” I warned, “Otherwise, don’t worry about it. We’ll get the banner from Ares. You just do your job. Has Luke given it to you?”

”Yeah,” he said, fixing his helmet, “Border patrol, whatever that means.” 

“It’s easy. Stand by the creek, keep the reds away. Leave the rest to me. Athena always has a plan.” 

“Oh,” he said, his smile wavering, “okay…”

The others broke off at their assigned positions, and I went off with Percy. I showed him where to stand, and he nodded and vigantly held out his sword. 

“You got this,” I said. I hoped it sounded encouraging, but he just sighed and looked out at the other side of the border. 

Then, I moved on through the trees. I found a good lookout spot, where I could still see Percy standing by himself and fidgeting with the straps on his chest plate, but where I was still hidden. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the moonlight, then I pulled on my cap. I placed my helmet in a bush and made sure that it was concealed, then approached the creek as quietly as I could. 

My skin tingled irritatingly. The feeling lessened the more uses I’d gotten out of it, but still, I hoped I wouldn’t have to wear the hat for too long. I rubbed my arms to see if it would help. I don’t think it did. 

Percy kicked a stone, humming a tune under his breath. I leaned on a tree nearby. He turned quickly at the sounds of fighting in the distance. Someone had sounded the alarm that indicated that our team had attacked the red base. I was itching to join the fight, but I stayed put. Lee Fletcher dashed from behind us toward the enemy side, presumably as backup. 

As Lee disappeared, someone else materialized through the underbrush. It was Clarisse, with four of her siblings. Two of them were carrying flashlights. I placed a hand on my dagger, just in case. 

Clarisse yelled, “Cream the punk!” And all of them charged the creek and pounced on Percy. He put up a good fight, but was hopelessly outnumbered. Luke was correct, he was a good fighter, if untrained. 

I waited, and watched the fight go down. I told myself that I would intervene if anyone got seriously injured. Maybe I would see how he would do, if he was worth all the hype. And if I revealed the plan too early, it might ruin the whole operation. 

Clarisse’s spear struck Percy’s shield, his hair going on end. I cringed, remembering the numbing-tingling feeling the point induced. I did warn him. One of the guys— Nial, I remembered— hit Percy’s chest with the butt of his sword, and the boy fell down into the grass. They laughed hysterically at his expression. 

Percy struggled to his feet, pointing his sword at Clarisse with a shaking hand. She nonchalantly knocked it aside. 

Clarisse chuckled, “Oh, man. I’m scared of this guy. Really scared.” 

Percy, for all his bravery, said weakly, “The flag’s that way. In case you didn’t notice.”

She crossed her arms, “Yeah. But, see, we don’t care about the flag. We care about a guy who made our cabin look stupid.”

“You do that without my help,” Percy tripped over a rock, backing up toward the creek.

Clarisse stabbed, and Percy raised his shield, but her spear made contact with his side. The weapon left a pointed dent in his chest plate. Percy stumbled, eyes fluttering. Nial slashed into Percy’s arm and blood started dripping onto the rocks. 

“Hey,” Percy mumbled, “No maiming.” 

Nial smirked, “Oops. Guess I lost my desert privileges,” Then, he pushed the smaller boy into the creek. 

If I was going to intervene, it would have been then. They weren’t doing anything except beating him up at this point. And Percy couldn’t defend himself like this. 

But as I watched, Percy seemed to sit up a little taller, his muscles tensing. His eyes shone brighter. This time, when Clarisse and her goons splashed into the creek to come at him, Percy swung his sword at Nial’s head, knocking him to the ground. He hit one of them with his shield and another ducked quickly to avoid his blade. After that, they all backed away, looking Percy up and down with a new appreciation. 

It was like someone else had taken over his body, someone more confident and skilled. He fought like he’d been doing it for years. My mind was racing. I’d never seen anyone fight like that. Well, at least not since Thalia. 

Clarisse wasn’t deterred. She stabbed again, trying the same move she’d done before. But Percy took the spear and used his shield and sword to break the shaft in two. 

She screamed viscously. I felt a pang of empathy, despite myself. I knew that was her one and only connection to her father.

”You idiot!” She roared. “You—”

Percy smacked her on her forehead with the butt of his sword and she stumbled back, in shock. 

Before anyone could react, the sound of racing footsteps and shouts approached. Luke splashed into the creek, his face flushed, with the red banner high up in the air. I felt my face break out into a grin. 

Perhaps the best part about the victory was the dumb looks on Clarisse and the Ares guys’ faces. They looked around, trying to piece together what just happened. Finally, realization dawned on Clarisse’s face. 

“It was a trick!” She exclaimed. I’m telling you: detective. 

They tried to run after Luke, but he was already on our side of the creek. Everyone cheered as the red boar and spear on the banner magically transformed into a silver caduceus. Chrion appeared and blew a horn, indicating that the game was over. 

Percy was still standing in the creek, the water pouring over his tennis shoes. I approached him carefully, “Not bad, hero,” I said. He looked around. With a start, I realized I was still wearing my cap. I took it off and his eyes locked in on me, “Where’d you learn to fight like that?” 

He glanced at the cap in my hands, but he didn’t ask me anything about it. His eyes flared with anger, “You set me up. You put me here because you knew Clarisse would come after me. You had it all figured out.” 

I shook my head, incredulous, “I mean… yeah. I told you. Athena always, always has a plan.” 

“A plan to get me pulverized?!” 

“I was about to jump in! But… you didn’t need my help.” I looked him up and down. Other than the dent in his armor, he scarcely looked like he’d just been in a fight. Where I expected him to bruise, the skin barely even looked red. On his arm, the cut was already starting to close, the blood and irritation fading. My mouth hung open, “How’d you do that?”

He just glanced at it, “Sword cut. What do you think?” 

“No,” I said, “It was a sword cut. Look at it now.” 

He held it up to get a good look. His eyes went wide as he realized what was happening. As the two of us watched, the cut closed up, then blended into the tone of his skin, disappearing completely. 

He stuttered, “I— I don’t get it.”

To test a theory, I said, “Step out of the water, Percy.” 

He did, and immediately slumped down in exhaustion. I caught him before he could fall. My stomach felt heavy. It couldn’t happen like this. I cursed, “This is not good. I didn’t want…” 

Just then, a howl rang through the air. Everyone quieted down immediately. I drew my standard-issue sword and Chiron ordered us to stand ready. 

A black mass appeared on the rocks. Its bright red eyes were locked in on something. I followed its line of sight. It was looking at Percy, who was standing completely undefended in front of it. The mass charged him. 

“Percy, run!” I shouted. I ran to take a stand in between him and the monster, but it just jumped over me and pounced on Percy. Chiron reacted the fastest and shot half a dozen arrows into the creature’s neck before it collapsed next to Percy’s injured body. 

I ran to his side and he was fighting for breath painfully. I gasped as I saw the blood pouring down his chest. His armor was mangled, and his skin wasn’t much better. Luke pushed through the crowd, his banner abandoned on the ground. 

I got a better look at the carcass and I swore again, “That’s a hellhound!” I told Chiron, his face grim. I stuttered, “They don’t… I mean, they’re not supposed to…” My voice failed. 

Chiron nodded, “Someone summoned it. Someone inside the camp.” 

“It’s Percy’s fault,” Clarisse insisted, “He summoned it!” 

“Be quiet, child,” Chrion’s voice was uncharacteristically callus. 

Luke placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder, both of their faces pale. The hellhound melted into the shadows, like it was being called home. I took Percy’s arm and tried to pull him to the creek, “You’re wounded. You have to get to the water, quick.” 

“I’m okay,” he said, groaning in pain as I moved him. 

“No, you’re not,” I looked over my shoulder at Chiron watching with a furrowed brow, “Chiron, watch this.” 

The second Percy made contact with the water, the color returned to his face. The cuts on his chest began to close. Even his messy black hair seemed to get shinier, his skin fuller and more hydrated. Everyone was watching now and he was looking sheepishly at the crowd. 

Just then, a green light shone in the clearing, emanating from a spot right above Percy’s head. A sigil was materializing, rotating and shimmering. It was a trident, the symbol of Poseidon. Everyone gasped. Luke and I exchanged a glance. 

Percy looked around, confused. I pointed at the trident, “Percy, um…” He looked up and the symbol faded. “Your father,” I tried to explain, but my brain was moving too fast, and my mouth struggled to keep up, “This is really not good,” I managed to say.

Chiron raised his voice in announcement, “It is determined. Poseidon, earthshaker, stormbringer, father of horses. Hail, Perceus Jackson, son of the Sea God.”

As was procedure, we all knelt in reverence. The Ares kids grumbled as they did so. This is what we were taught to do. We had to show respect. 

Percy’s voice was hollow, “My father…?” He looked at the bowed heads of the other campers, breathless, blinking hard. 

———

We walked back down the path. Percy trailed behind the rest of us, looking deep in thought. I wanted to go and talk with him but I didn’t know what I would say if I did. Also, I suspected that I would have to keep my distance from him now, as he was officially claimed by Poseidon. I didn’t even want to think about what this meant for my quest, if I would even be allowed to go with him. I‘d be half-surprised if the next time I even looked at him after today, my mother would ever speak to me again. She didn’t play around with her hatred for Poseidon and everything he stood for. Even so, I couldn’t help but secretly feel a bit disappointed. 

Someone took a hold of my elbow. Imala was there, the shadows flickering across her cheek. 

“What was that?” She said, a light accusation in her voice.

I shook my head, “What are you talking about?” 

“What do you think I’m talking about?” 

I looked at her blankly, not really sure what she wanted me to say. She sighed and pulled me out of the line. We went off of the path and let everyone else go ahead of us. 

Imala just crossed her arms and looked at me for a long time. “What?” I asked. 

She shook her head, “I trusted you. I trusted that you wouldn’t let anything happen to him.” 

“Oh… Well, I—” I felt my face flushing, “Nothing did happen to him. He’s fine now.” 

“Yeah, now.”

”Look, I couldn’t help that the hellhound—!”

”I’m not—” She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut, “I’m not talking about the hellhound. I’m talking about Clarisse.” 

“He was fine!” I felt my voice getting high and strained, like it always did when I was mad, “The water healed him and it ended in him getting claimed, so, like, objectively it was a net-positive. How’d you even see it anyway?” 

She went quiet and avoided my eyes. 

“You didn’t really trust me,” My voice shook annoyingly, “You were watching, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t have to be,” she said simply, “Annabeth, we don’t gamble with lives. Whether or not it worked out, you put him in harm’s way and, as your head counselor, I’m not going to stand for that.” 

“He wouldn’t have died! I obviously wouldn’t have let that—”

“Wouldn’t you?” Her voice carried a quiet firmness that reminded me a lot of Athena. Suddenly, I couldn’t argue even if I wanted to. “You sure you wouldn’t have let Clarisse do whatever she wanted to him if it meant that you could climb that little rung? You can bend and break any promises you make, just as long as it all works out for you in the end. It’s all for the glory, right?” 

I opened and closed my mouth several times, trying to find a good response but not being able to find the words. Imala’s eyes were flooded with righteous anger. She never got mad, at least not like this. This ran deeper than just me and Percy and capture-the-flag. 

“Whatever,” I said finally, which probably wasn’t the best idea, given the fact that her sword was right there at her waist. Even then, I knew I sounded like a little brat, “You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my mom.”

She pursed her lips, “You’re right. I’m not.” Imala turned on her heels and left me there in the darkness. 

Chapter Text

I kept my distance from Percy after that. It felt like an obligation. 

I often wondered if Athena could see me, if she even cared enough to pay attention to me. I know she had shown me favor by giving me my cap, but I couldn’t help but feel like it might have been something she thought that she had to do, like her own personal obligation. Did she watch me, from her throne up in the sky, or did she have much more important things to attend to? I felt like it was better to be safe than sorry, so I held myself to the highest standards, in a way that she would have been proud of. 

Still, it was difficult feeling like I was being watched all the time, like every mistake that I made was being scrutinized. It was like having to constantly look over my shoulder, metaphorically speaking. I admit, I didn’t know very much about what it was like to be a god. For all the research that I did, and all the stories that I read, I couldn’t find a single one that adequately described the godly experience. Did Athena know my very thoughts, or was her knowledge limited to my actions alone? Maybe that was on purpose, I thought, that they kept us wondering. Gods didn’t write their own stories, but they certainly controlled the narrative. 

So, when I sat with Percy at our tutoring session that next morning, I tried my best to keep my facial expressions as neutral as possible. She could have been watching me even then. I felt as if I could simply turn around and she would appear over the horizon, glowing and all-powerful. 

Percy seemed sullen and distant. I couldn’t exactly blame him, he was all alone now. He slept in his own cabin, went to classes on his own. To me, that didn't sound half bad, but he seemed really lonely. I hoped that someone would reach out, just to make sure that he was doing alright, which I certainly wasn’t in a position to do. No one else seemed willing to put themselves up to the task. 

Percy asked me a question and broke my train of thought. I looked up quickly, and answered it the best I could. He nodded and went back to reading the passage monotonously. I hoped he wasn’t still mad at me because of what happened during capture-the-flag. He seemed to have forgotten. 

After our session was over, I gathered my things and left without a word, while Percy sat frozen in his seat, gazing out at the ocean. His father’s domain. I wondered if he had the same doubts that I did. 

———

Nights later, I was laying in my bed. It had to have been around two in the morning and I couldn’t turn my brain off. 

Imala was asleep underneath me. She seemed to have gotten over my disobedience at the capture-the-flag game, but she was significantly more distant than before. I felt like I should have apologized, but I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for. Her words echoed through my mind: It’s all for the glory, right?  

I knew she was at least partially justified in saying that and she must have had her reasons. But I still felt a little betrayed by her words. Is that really what she thought of me? That I was just some power-hungry little kid? It was all for the glory. That’s how the world works. It’s glory or death. How could she not know that? Every worthy hero that had ever existed knew that simple truth, that glory was the ultimate goal. And isn’t that what we trained for, to be worthy heroes? 

I was glaring at the rafters and fiddling with my necklace when I heard a tapping at the window next to my bed. I turned and nearly jumped out of my skin. A face was staring back at me. I relaxed slightly when I realized it was only Luke, rapping on the pane to get my attention. He had that pleasantly mischievous look on his face that he always did when he was breaking the rules, like he was holding back a laugh. He gestured for me to meet him outside. I climbed down off my bed as quietly as I could, took my knife from where it was hanging in its sheath on my bed frame, and tip-toed over to the door. 

Outside, Luke met me at the front of the cabin. “Couldn’t sleep either?” I whispered. 

“Nah,” he whispered back. He held up two cans of Oneroi Lite and handed me one. I grinned and he gestured for me to follow him toward the treeline.

We snuck over to the cover of the woods. Luke ducked and avoided the patrol harpies like he’d done this a million times before. He seemed to have their rotations memorized to a tea. 

Once we were in the clear, we walked side-by-side down the familiar paths a safe distance away from Camp. When we were out of ear-shot, we cracked open our cans and he started talking to me about the training regimen that he’d come up with. I nodded along, happily sipping on my drink. 

A couple hundred yards down the path, I settled down onto a mossy log next to a section of the creek. Luke kept talking as he paced up and down and skipped stones. I tried not to make it look like I was zoning out. 

“Are you paying attention?” Luke asked. It wasn’t malicious, just a quiet inquiry. 

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. The small hike had shaken out the little bit of tiredness I had, I suppose. I nodded and gave a small smile, “Yeah, of course.” 

“Oh, okay,” he said, but he didn’t keep talking. Instead, he turned a rock over and over in his hands, looking off into the distance. 

“What?” I asked, leaning forward. 

He raised his eyebrows and rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head, “Nothing… I just…” 

”That’s not really what you wanted to talk about, is it?” 

”No,” he said guiltily. He took out a piece of paper from his pants pocket and handed it to me. His eyebrows were knitted in concern and he looked genuinely nervous. “I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he admitted. 

I looked down at the paper. It was a page from the New York Daily News . I didn’t recognize it, but I guessed that it must have been a mortal newspaper. I looked up at Luke. “Where did you get this?” 

He shook his head again, “One of the satyrs.” 

I read the title of the article that took up most of the page: BOY AND MOTHER STILL MISSING AFTER FREAK CAR ACCIDENT . The first paragraph said, ‘ Sally Jackson and son Percy are still missing one week after their mysterious disappearance. The family’s badly burned ‘78 Camaro was discovered last Sunday on a north Long Island road…’ 

Luke was watching me, still rubbing the back of his neck anxiously. 

I shook my head, confused, “Yeah, his mom died. I don’t know why it matters.” 

“What if he thinks there’s something can do about it?” 

I scoffed, “Even he’s not that stupid. You can’t just—“

”If someone stole Zeus’ lightning bolt, who’s the first person he’d blame?” 

“Wait— lighting bolt? That’s what was stolen? Wait, how do you even know that?”

He waved a hand dismissively, “Chiron isn’t as secretive as he thinks he is.” 

“Alright,” I said slowly, “Well, Zeus would blame one of the other gods. Probably…” I looked up in revelation and Luke nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. 

Neither of us had to say it, but we both knew that Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades— the Big Three— were most likely to have been at odds. It was far from unlikely that Zeus would blame one of the other two for a stolen item. Percy would be loyal to his father and— whether or not it was true— would be hard to convince that Poseidon was the thief. That left Hades for Percy to go after, who was in close proximity to his mother in the Underworld. He would never be able to really rescue her, but he didn’t have to know that. If I wanted a quest,  this was my chance.  

Luke seemed to see my expression. He said, “Keep reading.”

I skimmed the rest of the article. What caught my eye was the last paragraph: ‘ Police would not say whether son Percy is a suspect in his mother’s disappearance, but they have not ruled out foul play. Below are recent pictures of Sally Jackson and Percy. Police urge anyone with information to call the following toll-free crime-stoppers hotline.’ The number was listed on the last line. 

At the bottom of the article, Percy was wearing a hoodie in a school picture. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes and looked a little bit more like a grimace. Next to it, the picture of Percy’s mom was of her in an uniform apron, a store front behind her. The sign read Sweet on America and there were displays in the windows to her sides. It looked like it was taken straight from a newspaper advertisement. Mrs. Jackson was smiling at the camera, showing off a tray of bright blue rock candies. She had a kind face and looked a lot like Percy, except for the fact that her hair was lighter and her eyes darker. 

“He’ll want to prove them wrong,” I said. 

Luke nodded, “And Chiron doesn’t think that it’s safe for him here anymore, because of the hellhound.” 

I sighed and sat back on the log. Luke and I exchanged a small look. I reread the article a few more times. 

“Do you want me to give this to him?” I asked. 

“No… I just…” Luke hesitated, “I thought you should know.” 

“Oh,” I said. “Thank you.” 

After a moment, Luke slid up next to me and nudged me playfully, “Hey,” he grinned, “You’re gonna get your quest.” 

I smiled slightly, “Yeah.”

———

What was more important: keeping away from Poseidon, or getting my quest?

A quest would get me my notoriety, which I’d longed for as long as I could remember. But, it was a possibility that Athena would want me to straight-out refuse if it meant working with the offspring of her rival. Would she rather I gained honor, or uphold her values? 

This is what I wrestled with the next day. I ultimately decided that the quest was more important, I would just have to be careful about it. I couldn’t show loyalty to Percy, at least not more than I would have to my mother. 

I kept rereading the article over and over again. It made Percy out to be this violent, troubled boy, which was hard to reconcile with the boy that I knew. Sure, he’d fought people and monsters, but all of those had been in self-defense. He never lashed out when it wasn’t justified, at least never that I’d seen. It was difficult to imagine that someone could describe him in that way. 

That night, I took a Sharpie and circled the crime-stopper’s phone number at the bottom of the page. Before he came back from the campfire, I placed it on the inside of his cabin’s doorway. Now both he and Chiron thought he was unsafe at Camp. 

———

Percy wasn’t at breakfast the next morning. I watched his table, where he was supposed to be eating alone, in that dejected sort of sad-puppy way that he had been doing which was totally annoying. But he hadn’t shown up yet. 

That morning, a storm was raging from the West. I had sort of blocked them out by that point, they had become such a regular occurance. But this one seemed exceptionally savage. I could see the rain starting to come down inside the camp borders, which really bothered me. It took me a moment to know what I was seeing. It wasn’t supposed to rain inside Camp. Everyone else seemed to notice, too, and they watched the rain with an astonished silence. 

I bounced my knee up and down, then rose in a huff and went over to Luke at the Hermes table. I was vaguely aware of the others watching me go. It wasn’t exactly forbidden to visit other tables, but you were strongly encouraged to stay at your own. Luke looked up, startled, when I approached him. 

“Where’s Percy?” I asked him.

He shook his head, slightly miffed, “I don’t know. I’m not his babysitter anymore, remember?” 

I turned on my heels and marched over to the Big House. There, I found Chrion, Mr. D, and Grover sitting around the card table, looking tentative. 

I climbed the steps and parked myself next to the railing, “Is Percy here?” 

Chiron held up a gentle hand, “Calm, child.” 

I glanced at Grover, who was buzzing with nervous energy. He was munching on an empty Diet Coke can. 

“Percy is consulting the Oracle as we speak,” Chiron continued. 

“Really?” I tried not to sound as thrilled as I was. 

“Yes. And I would like you to return—“

”I want to be on the quest,” I blurted out before he could send me back to breakfast. 

“Miss Chase, I think it’s best for now—“

Chrion was cut off once again by the sound of the front door opening. Without thinking about it, I quickly pulled on my Invisibility Cap from my back pocket. I disappeared just as Percy entered the porch. 

Chiron looked at him expectantly, “Well?” He asked. 

Percy looked shaken. His face was gaunt and he sat down heavily on the empty chair, “She said I would retrieve what was stolen.” 

Grover perked up, “That’s great!”

Chiron sat forward, “What did the Oracle say exactly ? It is important that we get the exact wording.”

Percy hesitated, glancing back and forth between his lap and the others around the table, “She… uh. She said I would go West and face a god who had turned. I would retrieve what was stolen and see it safely returned,” he recited. 

“I knew it,” Grover grinned. 

Percy didn’t elaborate. The prophecy couldn’t have ended there. There was something he didn’t want to say. 

Chiron seemed to notice, “Anything else?” 

Percy shook his head, “No. That’s about it.” 

He was obviously lying, but Chiron decided not to press further, “Very well, Percy,” he said, “But know this: the Oracle’s words often have double meanings. Don’t dwell on them too much. The truth is not always clear until events come to pass.” 

Percy took a deep breath, “Okay. So, where do I go? Who’s this god in the West?” 

“Ah, think, Percy,” Chiron said, having gone into teacher-mode, “If Zeus and Poseidon weaken each other in a war, who stands to gain?”

Percy thought about it for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, “Somebody else who wants to take over?” 

“Yes, quite. Someone who harbors a grudge,” Chiron leaned back in his chair, gesturing widely like he was giving a lecture, “who has been unhappy with his lot since the world was divided eons ago, whose kingdom would grow powerful with the deaths of millions. Someone who hates his brothers for forcing him into an oath to have no more children, an oath that both of them have now broken.” 

Percy’s eyes grew dark. “Hades,” he said, having come to the conclusion that I had two nights before.

Grover’s mouth hung open and a piece of the can he was eating fell onto his lap.

Chiron nodded grimly, “The Lord of the Dead is the only possibility.” 

“Whoa, wait,” Grover said, nervously. “Wh—what?”

”A Fury came after Percy. She watched the young man until she was sure of his identity, then tried to kill him. Furies obey only one lord: Hades.” 

Grover glanced over at Percy, “Yes, but— but Hades hates all heroes. Especially if he’s found out that Percy is a son of Poseidon…” He trailed off, like it was too terrible to say. 

“A hellhound got into the forest. Those can only be summoned by someone within the camp. Hades must have a spy here. He must suspect Poseideon will try to use Percy to clear his name. Hades would very much like to kill this young half-blood before he can take on the quest.” 

Percy sighed heavily, “Great. That’s two major gods who want to kill me.” 

Grover protested, “But a quest to… I mean, couldn’t the master bolt be in some place like Maine? Maine’s very nice this time of year.” 

“Hades sent a minion to steal the master bolt,” Chiron explained. “He hid it in the Underworld, knowing full well that Zeus would be quick to blame Poseidon. I don’t pretend to understand the Lord of the Dead’s motives perfectly, or why he chose his time to start a war, but one thing is certain. Percy must go to the Underworld, find the master bolt, and reveal the truth.” 

Grover glanced over to the spot I had disappeared from, like he was trying to make out my outline through whatever magic made me invisible. I was so focused on the conversation, I barely even noticed the tingling this time around. 

Percy was wringing his hands anxiously. It was a big task, going to the Underworld, only having been accomplished by a select few in the old stories. I hoped Percy was up to it. 

He looked like he didn’t know himself, because he asked Chiron, “Look, if we know it’s Hades, why can’t we just tell the other gods? Zeus and Poseidon could go down to the Underworld and bust some heads.” 

Chiron looked genuinely sympathetic, “Suspecting and knowing are not the same. Besides, even if the other gods suspect Hades— and I imagine Poseidon does— they couldn’t retrieve the bolt themselves. Gods cannot cross each other’s territories except by invitation. That is another ancient rule. Heroes, on the other hand, have certain privileges. They can go anywhere, challenge anyone, as long as they’re bold enough and strong enough to do it. No god can be held responsible for a hero’s actions. Why do you think the gods always operate through humans?” 

“You’re saying I’m being used?” Percy asked. I bit back a sigh. He still didn’t get it. 

“I’m saying it’s no accident Poseidon has claimed you now,” Chiron clarified. “It’s a very risky gamble, but he’s in a desperate situation. He needs you.” 

Percy seemed to perk up just a little. I knew the feeling. The idea that our parents relied on us for something, as transactional as it could be, was a very powerful one. 

Grover bleated anxiously, twirling his leg fur. His voice was quiet, “Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?” 

Percy sighed, looking at him, “You don’t have to go. I can’t ask that of you.” 

“Oh…” Grover was taken aback, “No, it’s just that satyrs and underground places… well…” He mustered up all the confidence he had, and looked at Percy, giving a small smile. “You saved my life, Percy. If… if you’re serious about wanting me along, I won’t let you down.” 

Percy let out a relieved breath, smiling back at him, “All the way, G-man.” They exchanged a very bromance-y fist bump. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. 

Percy turned back to Chiron, “So where do we go? The Oracle just said to go West.” 

“The entrance to the Underworld is always in the West,” Chiron explained. “It moves from age to age, just like Olympus. Right now, of course, it’s in the United States.” 

“Where?”

”I thought that would be obvious enough. The entrance to the Underworld is in Los Angeles.” 

That would have been intuitive to anyone who’d been involved in this world for more than a week. It was the largest city on the West Coast. 

“Oh… naturally,” Percy looked slightly embarrassed. “So we just get on a plane—“

”No!” Grover shook his head adamantly. Again, that should have been intuitive. If the Lord of the Sky is after you, perhaps it’s not the best idea to get on a plane?

Percy looked at Grover, confused, “Okay…” he said slowly. “So, we’ll travel overland .” 

Chiron nodded, “That’s right. Two companions may accompany you. Grover is one. The other…” He glanced at where I was standing, invisible, “has already volunteered, if you will accept her help.” 

Percy rolled his eyes satirically, feigning surprise, “Gee. Who else would be stupid enough to volunteer for a quest like this?”

I took off my cap and Percy’s eyes locked in on me from across the table. He looked like he had been suspecting that I was there all along. “I’ve been waiting a long time for a quest, seaweed brain,” I said. “Athena is no fan of Poseidon, but if you’re going to save the world, I’m the best person to keep you from messing up.” 

“If you do say so yourself. I suppose you have a plan, wise girl?” Percy tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in contempt. 

I felt my face grow hot. That was one of Clarisse’s nicknames for me. I didn’t really mind it when Clarisse said it, as the sting of the insult had dulled over the years. But, it almost felt worse because he knew that and called me it anyway. I crossed my arms. “Do you want my help or not?” I asked. 

Percy didn’t answer. Instead, he considered the three of us together, “A trio. That’ll work.” 

“Excellent,” said Chiron. “This afternoon, we can take you as far as the bus terminal in Manhattan. After that, you are on your own.”

I could feel the excitement running through my body. This afternoon I would finally get my chance to prove myself. I couldn’t wait. 

Thunder rumbled directly overhead. Puddles of mud had started forming on the ground. I watched as the paths, which weren’t meant to withstand any kind of weather, started to flood. Now, it was personal. The conflict had reached my home. And it was up to me to do something about it. 

Chiron took in the small team that was assembled before him. “No time to waste,” he said, “I think you should all get packing.” 

———

I nearly ran back to my cabin. I threw open the screen door and ripped my backpack up from where it was hanging on the wall. There were a couple of things already inside: a box of pads from the camp store (I hadn’t had my period yet but I wasn’t about to take any chances), an extra pair of sneakers, and a standard first-aid kit. 

I cleaned out my snack stash from the recess up high in the wall near my bed and shoved them into the front pocket of my bag. I was rolling up a couple of changes of clothes when I noticed someone standing in the doorway. 

“Imala,” I said. “Hey.” 

She looked down at me on the floor, her expression carefully hesitant. Her hair was wet and stuck to the sides of her neck from walking through the rain. 

“Hey,” she replied after a moment. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be at breakfast?” 

“Uh…” she glanced behind her at the central clearing, like she was looking for a way to escape from this conversation, “no. Breakfast ended. Everyone else is at wrestling.” 

“Oh, okay.” 

“Look,” she sighed, “I heard about your quest.” She fixed me with a look of sympathy, like it was something I was stuck with and not that I chose to do. 

“Yeah. I’m… I’m excited.” 

“Are you?” She seemed genuinely surprised. I nodded. Imala shifted on her feet. Then, she knelt down next to me and picked up one of my shirts to help me pack. She was quiet for a moment. “I had a quest when I was your age, you know,” she said, like she was making small talk. 

“Yeah,” I said again. “I remember.” 

That had been the summer after I’d first come to Camp, which had been a blur. I didn’t remember much about what happened that year, as I was still mourning Thalia’s death and getting used to life at Camp. But, I vaguely recalled being pulled along with the other Athena campers to bid her good-bye. I remembered thinking that twelve-year-old Imala looked so mature and capable. It was difficult to imagine that I was almost the same age that she was. 

“Okay, well,” she continued. “It… it gets you thinking about… you know, what’s important.” She didn’t elaborate as she stuffed my rolled-up shirt into the bottom of my backpack. 

“Yeah?” I prompted. 

“And, um…” she sighed again and turned to look me directly in the eyes. “I’m sorry that I got mad at you the other day. After capture-the-flag.” 

“Oh.” My eyebrows furrowed. Of all the things she would say to me right then, this was what I had expected the least. “It’s okay. I probably deserved it.” 

“No. You didn’t.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, tossing the long strands over her shoulder. “We train to be heroes, right?” 

It was like she had been reading my thoughts over the last few days. “Right,” I replied. 

She gestured impassionedly, “But we don’t just train to be like the heroes in the old stories. We train to be better. ‘Cause…” She let out a strained, breathy laugh, “it didn’t really end up well for most of them. So, we learn from their mistakes. We identify our fatal flaws and we find ways to work around them.”

“Fatal flaws?”

”Every hero has one. Mine is quixotism.” 

I stared at her blankly. 

“It means foolish optimism,” she supplied. “I expect the most out of people. So, they frequently disappoint me. And… it’s not their fault, I know that. I’m just too idealistic. Do you have any idea what yours might be?” 

I shook my head, “I don’t know. I don’t think I have anything like that.” 

Imala laughed lightly, “Well, that’s good. Maybe you won’t have to worry about it.” 

We finished packing my bag in a comfortable silence. Then, she and I left to join the cabin for the rest of the morning lessons. 

After lunch, Imala went with me to meet Percy and Grover right outside the camp store, where Chiron and some other campers had gathered to see us off. In the small crowd, I could see Silena, along with the Stolls. I scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of Luke. I thought he, of all people, would come and see us off. This would be the longest we’d be apart for over two years. 

Percy held a baggie full of both drachmas and mortal cash. My dagger was strapped to my arms where it could be easily concealed under the sleeve of my jacket. Chiron handed a baggie of ambrosia and a bottle of nectar to both Percy and I.

“Remember,” he said, mostly for Percy’s sake, “this is godly food. You should only use it in absolute emergencies. It can cure almost any injury, but too much of it will make a demigod very feverish. An overdose will burn you up.” 

Percy nodded dutifully and shoved the supplies into his pack. I realized with a start that we had matching backpacks, both of us having borrowed a camp-issued one, although mine was significantly more battered from years of use.  

Silena gave me a tight hug and whispered a hushed good-bye and good luck in my ear. I was surprised to see little pinpricks of tears in her eyes as she pulled away. I didn’t think that she liked me that much, if I’m being honest. 

“I‘ll be okay,” I reminded her. 

She nodded tearfully and rustled my hair, “Of course you will.” 

Travis and Connor each gave me a quick high-five. Then, I went in for a hug from Imala, but she only obliged me a tense handshake. She had already said all that she needed. 

We waved good-bye to everyone else and headed up to the entrance gate. I said a silent farewell to Thalia’s tree. This would be the longest I’d ever been away from it. I tried to remind myself that it was just a tree. My Thalia was long gone. I knew that. But it still felt like I was leaving behind a very good friend. Which was ridiculous, of course. 

At the top of the hill, Argus was waiting silently. Chiron formally introduced Argus to Percy and explained that he would be the one to drive us to the bus station in the city. 

“Hey!” said a voice from behind us. 

Luke was rushing to meet us. In his hands were a pair of basketball shoes. I felt my face flushing, embarrassed that I had doubted he would come to say good-bye. 

“Glad I caught you.” He gave me a quick smile then turned to Percy. “Just wanted to say good luck. And I thought, um…” He held up the shoes hesitantly, “maybe you could use these.” 

Percy took the shoes and examined them dubiously. They seemed like regular shoes to me, until Luke said, “ Maia! ” And two little white wings strung out from the sides. Percy dropped them in surprise and the sneakers hovered over the ground for a moment. Then, the wings disengaged and they thumped on the grass. 

Grover’s mouth hung open in amazement, “Awesome!”

”Those served me well when I was on my quest,” Luke said. “Gift from Dad. Of course, I don’t use them much these days.” 

I remembered how Luke had struggled through telling me about his father visiting him at a rest stop during his quest two years ago. Hermes had given him the magical shoes to help him retrieve a golden apple. But after he returned to Camp, they had quickly been stuffed into a box under his bed, collecting dust. I didn’t ask about them, and Luke didn’t like to talk about his quest. 

Percy looked up at Luke gratefully, “Thanks, man.” 

Luke smiled, then his expression turned deadly serious, “Listen, Percy… A lot of hopes are riding on you. So… just kill some monsters for me, okay?” 

They shook hands, then Luke gave Grover a quick embrace. 

“That goes for you, too,” Luke said to me as he pulled me into a tight hug. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. “I’ll see you in a few weeks.”

”I don’t doubt it.” He took my face in his hands and looked me directly in the eyes. “Remember: you’re the cleverest demigod I know.” 

He kissed the top of my head and walked back down the hill towards Camp. I took several deep breaths and tried to blink the emotion out of my eyes. 

Percy looked me up and down, “You’re hyperventilating.”

“No, I’m not.”

He watched Luke walking down the path, eyebrows furrowed, “You let him capture the flag instead of Athena, didn’t you?” 

I shook my head, exasperated, “Why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?”

I turned on my heels and went back to wait by the van, where I read the book that I’d brought until Percy and Chiron stopped yapping. But, I found it really hard to focus. 

Today was Friday, June 10th. The solstice was next Tuesday. So, we had to get to Los Angeles (at least a three-day bus ride, and that was without mythological pit stops that were all but guaranteed), go to the Underworld, confront Hades, find the most powerful object in the known universe, and get it back to New York in less than ten days. So that was six days of travel with about four days of wiggle room. Piece of cake. Assuming nothing went wrong. Which was unlikely. 

A loud bang on the side of the van startled me out of my thoughts. I poked my head through the open door to see Grover hovering a few feet off the ground. He was wearing the sneakers Luke had given us, but the winged shoes kept jerking around, making it difficult for Grover to control them. He rolled sideways on the gravel and accidentally knocked his head on the van again. 

Finally, he got his feet under him and shrieked, “ Maia! ” Instead of landing, he fell backwards on his butt. 

“‘Sup?” He said casually, when he saw me watching. 

I chuckled, “So graceful.” 

He scrambled to his feet and adjusted his Rasta cap over his horns. He shoved his regular sneakers into his orange backpack, then sat down eagerly next to me in the back row. Suddenly, something caught his eye uphill near the entrance.  

“Is Percy coming?” I asked him. 

He turned suddenly, “What? Oh. No, not yet. He’s still talking with Chiron.” 

I followed his gaze. He was staring intently at Thalia’s tree. 

I took his trembling hand. “Hey,” I said, like I was calming a frightened animal. “She’ll be right here when we get back.”

He looked at me gratefully and took a shaky breath. “I can’t mess up again. Not if I want a Searcher’s license.” 

“Grover, you didn’t do anything wrong. Thalia made her choice.” 

He sighed tragically, “Tell that to the Council.” 

”Screw the Council.” 

Grover laughed. 

“I mean it! Nothing bad’s going to happen this time. I won’t let it.” 

He nodded, then flashed an easy-going smile, “I’m glad I’ll have you on my side.” 

I nudged his shoulder, “You too.” 

He pursed his lips doubtfully. We waited in silence for Percy to join us. A couple of minutes later, he appeared at the crest and Chiron saluted his bow in a traditional send-off. Percy squeezed into the back row with Grover and I. He was rotating a black pen in his hands. 

Argus took his place at the driver’s seat and the engine roared to life. We pulled out of the gravel path and onto the country road. 

Watching Chiron disappear on top of the hill, I left Camp on my own for the first time in five years. 

———

We were not eight minutes into the drive when Percy said, “So far so good. Ten miles and not a single monster.” 

I looked up from my book, “Don’t say stuff like that. It’s bad luck, seaweed brain.” 

He shook his head, incredulous, “Remind me again— why do you hate me so much?” 

I opened and closed my mouth several times, taken aback. “I don’t hate you,” I said. 

He folded his arms, “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Look…” I sighed guiltily, “we’re just… not supposed to get along, okay? Our parents are rivals.” 

“Why?” He asked genuinely. 

I fiddled with my Yankees cap, digging my fingernails under the seams. “How many reasons do you want? One time, my mom caught Poseidon with his girlfriend in Athena’s temple, which is, like, hugely disrespectful. Another time, Athena and Poseidon competed to be the patron god of Athens. Your dad created some stupid saltwater spring for his gift. My mom created the olive tree. The people saw that her gift was better, so they named the city after her.” 

He scanned the highway as we passed, like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen, “They must really like olives.” 

I groaned, “Forget it.” 

He raised his eyebrows, still gazing out the window. “Now, if she’d invented pizza— that I could get behind.” 

“I said, forget it!” I snapped. 

Argus dropped us off at a bus station on the Upper East Side. We splashed onto the pavement and rushed through the rain into the shelter of the station. Argus stayed long enough to make sure we got our tickets, then waved a silent good-bye as he pulled off back down the road. 

All alone, we waited for the bus that would take us all the way to St. Louis. I pulled back out my book and tried not to look like I was watching Percy, as he gazed longingly down the street. I knew he was from New York, and I wondered if he lived nearby. 

Grover followed his gaze, “You know, she married him for you.” 

Percy looked at Grover suddenly, like he had just voiced his thoughts. Satyrs were known to have empathic abilities, Grover especially. He was very in tune to other people’s emotions. 

“You were thinking about your mom and stepdad, right?” Grover asked. 

Percy nodded slowly. 

“Yeah,” Grover gestured North, where I supposed Percy’s home was. “You call him ‘Smelly,’ but you’ve got no idea. The guy has this aura…” He scrunched up his nose. “Yuck. I can smell him from here. I can smell traces of him on you, and you haven’t been near him for a week.” 

Percy let out a huff of breath, “Thanks. Where’s the nearest shower?” 

“You should be grateful, Percy,” Grover insisted. “Your stepfather smells so repulsively human he could mask the presence of any demigod. As soon as I took a whiff inside his Camaro, I knew: Gabe has been covering your scent for years. Your mom stayed with him to protect you.” 

Percy forced himself to smile, but he looked more miserable than ever. Grover could read emotions very well, but he was about as good of a therapist as I was. 

Percy watched the umbrellas bouncing up and down across the sidewalk in front of us, mourning a mother who loved him enough to sacrifice her entire life for him. Didn’t Percy go to boarding school? So he was only at home during the summer months. His mother tolerated this guy nine months out of the year, just so Percy could get the residual protection from the other three? 

I felt something rising up in my chest. The irony of his situation when compared to mine was not lost on me. If Percy’s stepfather was as bad as Grover said he was, that meant that his mom stayed in an abusive relationship so just that he could be safe from monsters. While my mortal parent had stood by while his wife drove me out onto the streets, and didn’t even bother looking for me when monsters threatened my life. I wouldn’t say I was jealous , but it felt really unfair. 

We waited a really long time for the bus to arrive. Percy was nearly bored out of his mind, and even my book lost its novelty. Grover had the bright idea of playing a game of Hacky Sack with one of the apples he had brought. 

“This isn’t fair, I don’t have real feet.” Grover complained after he dropped the apple for the fourth time. 

A middle-aged woman sitting on a seat nearby gave us a funny glance, which we decided to ignore. 

“That just means that I can focus on beating Percy.” I grinned. 

“Not if I beat you first,” Percy said as he bounced the apple off the side of his foot. 

The apple flew up high, but I twisted my body so that it would land on my shoulder. The apple bounced back over to Percy. He fumbled and it landed on the seat behind him. 

“Ha!” I exclaimed. 

Percy stuck his tongue out at me, being a sore loser. He tossed the apple towards Grover, trying to use the same strategy of throwing it extra high. Grover, however, seemed to forget what game we were playing, because he caught the apple in his mouth and ate it up all in one bite. Percy and I exchanged a glance, then burst out laughing. Grover looked embarrassed but he eventually joined in. 

When the bus finally came, we stood in line to board, our jackets pulled up to block out the rain. Suddenly, Grover stood up straight, sniffing heavily like a dog that’s caught a scent. 

“What is it?” Percy asked. 

I looked around, but everyone nearby seemed normal to me, “What do you smell?” 

“I don’t know,” Grover said softly, “It might be nothing.” 

His shoulders were tense when he handed the bus driver his ticket. We found our seats, which were all the way in the row that stretched across the back end of the bus, and placed our backpacks on the floor. My seat was directly in the middle of the aisle, with Grover next to me and Percy by the window. I kept my cap in my hands. It felt wrong to put it away. 

Grover kept sniffing with each new person that boarded. The line outside grew smaller and smaller. Then, Grover gasped. The very last passenger was a hunched old lady with a knit hat that obscured her face. She handed her ticket to the driver, then turned down the aisle. Her head tilted up to find her seat and her jet-black eyes locked in on mine. 

Suddenly, I was seven years old again, at the top of Half-Blood Hill, watching one of my best friends die right in front of me. 

Because I was looking directly into the face of Thalia’s murderer. 

Chapter Text

She looked older, somehow. In my memory, the Fury that delivered Thalia’s final blow was young, maybe twenties, with a strong, fierce presence. This woman was withered and frail. She looked like she couldn’t have lifted, let alone wielded, the sword she had that terrible night on Half-Blood Hill. Even so, I was sure it was the same woman. She had the same blackened eyes and hate-filled face, now wrinkled like she’d spent a lifetime scowling in disgust. 

I tried to keep my hand steady as I placed it on Percy’s knee. He looked up and his eyes went wide in recognition. Letting out a hushed curse in English, he slumped down low in his seat. 

Then, she was joined by two other, nearly identical women and I felt my stomach sink into the seat. We were in a bus with all three of the Furies. Not ideal. 

I thought for a second that we could just escape, maybe just get another bus. But as soon as the women took their seats, the engine rumbled to life and we carefully pulled out of the station. The rain created a percussive din above our heads. 

Percy turned to me, a furious accusation in his voice, “She didn’t stay dead long. I thought you said they could be dispelled for a lifetime.” 

I suddenly remembered that it had been a Fury that attacked him at his old school. “I said if you’re lucky . You’re obviously not.”

“All three of them !” Grover whimpered.

I looked around, trying to find any way to escape other than through the blocked aisle. “It’s okay,” I said, mostly to myself, “It’s okay. We can just slip through the windows.”

Percy tried to jiggle the closest one without success. ”They don’t open,” he reported back. 

“The back exit?” 

We glanced behind us, remembering that there wasn’t one. The back row took up where an exit would have been, with a bathroom door off to one side. 

Percy looked out the window. We were heading towards a tunnel off the highway. His eyes were wild and his breath came fast. “They won’t attack us with witnesses around, will they?” he squeaked. 

“Mortals don’t have good eyes,” I shrugged, “Their brains can only process what they see through the Mist.” 

Percy was wringing his hands, an anxious tick that I’d grown to expect. “But… they’ll see three old ladies trying to kill us, right?” 

I shook my head, remembering how I’d called for help in vain with the daimon in the library all those years ago. “It’s hard to say. But we can’t count on mortals for help.” I looked up at the ceiling, searching for a rooftop emergency exit. But, the bus went dark before I could make one out. We’d gone into the tunnel, which was lined with white tiles. The metallic pattering on the roof came to a sudden halt. 

As if on cue, the first Fury rose and said in a loud voice, “I need to use the restroom.” The other two quickly followed, echoing their sister’s words. 

My mind raced, running through all the things I knew about Furies. The Iliad described them as those who punish oath-breakers in the Underworld. But, they were also known to  commute to the Overworld to hunt down criminals, specifically those who had commited crimes against their family members. At least according to Aeschylus’ Oresteia trilogy (of which I’d only managed to read the first two over the most recent school year). It occurred to me that Hades must have sent the Furies to punish Percy and stop him from reaching the Underworld. He had done something similar to Thalia five years before. That time, her only crime had been that of existing, which didn’t bode well for Percy’s chances. 

So, I took my cap in my hand and held it out to him. “I’ve got it. Take my hat,” I said. 

He looked at me, his eyes darting back and forth between Grover and I and the quickly approaching old ladies, “What?”

”You’re the one that they want,” I reminded him, “Turn invisible and go down the aisle. Let them pass you. Maybe you can get to the front and get away.” 

He shook his head, “But you guys—“

”There’s an outside chance they might not notice us. You’re a son of one of the Big Three. Your smell might be overpowering.” I shoved my cap into his chest, and he grabbed it with a trembling hand. 

“I can’t just leave you,” he said softly. 

Grover took Percy’s arm and pulled him towards the aisle, “Don’t worry about us. Go!” 

Percy pulled the cap over his untidy hair and dissolved into invisibility. I heard a rustle and felt him slip past my knees to get to the aisle. Then, I couldn’t make out where he was. 

The Furies continued their staking approach. They moved like vultures who’d zeroed in on a meal. My heart skipped a beat when the middle one froze and sniffed the air. I hoped Percy was smart enough to duck out of the way. But, thankfully, she moved on quickly and continued on her path. 

She locked her eyes on the two of us. “Where is it?” She demanded. She had a thick Southern accent. 

It , not him . 

Grover and I exchanged a glance. “We— we don’t have anything,” he stammered. 

The one on the right leaned in to talk with her sister. “Alecto,” she hissed, “we must find the son of the Sea God. Lest we waste our time with these lesser heroes.” 

My face flushed, “Or you could go back to Hades and tell him to shove that master bolt up his orrhos .” 

Apparently that was their wrong thing to say. 

Grover and I watched as the old ladies transformed. Their skin shriveled and discolored like rotting fruit. Spiky wings erupted from their backs and their fingers elongated into claws. Obsidian-colored whips appeared in their hands where their handbags used to be. 

That’s when the other people started to take notice. The middle-aged woman that we saw at the station screamed at the top of her lungs. The others reacted with horror and confusion. There was no telling what they saw, but it seemed like it upset them. 

The Furies cracked their whips and hissed in unison, “Where is it? Where?!”

My plan had relied on Percy being what they wanted. But they didn’t seem to be looking for him. What else could it be? ”He’s not here! He’s gone!” I shouted. 

But, they weren’t deterred. They bared their razor-sharp teeth and raised their whips to strike. I ripped my dagger from its sheath under my sleeve. Grover scrambled to find something to use as a weapon. Ultimately, he decided on a hefty can of enchilada sauce that he’d inexplicably packed into his supplies. He raised it into the air, ready to throw. 

I turned my knife over in my hand, psyching myself up for a fight. Grover and I exchanged a glance. He gave me a short, tentative nod. Together, we prepared to jump the monsters. 

 Then the bus hit the tunnel wall. 

All of a sudden, I was thrust into Grover’s side, pinning him against the seat. A horrible grinding noise sounded to my left. Sparks flew across the road, into the windshields of the cars behind us. Tiles broke off and shattered on the concrete. I realized with a start what was happening and tried to get back on my feet. Before I could, we were thrown in the opposite direction and my back hit the left-hand window. Grover was frantically reorienting his Rasta cap from where he’d fallen at my feet. 

At the front, I could see the driver grappling for control of the steering wheel with an invisible force.

”Oh my gods,” I breathed, “What an idiot.”

Grover followed my gaze, then looked back at the Furies, who had crumpled into the seats in front of us. Unfortunately, Alecto was sprawled across a very confused man’s lap. 

It was then that I began to see what Percy was trying to do. The wheel was jerking back and forth, keeping everyone off balance. The Furies flapped their wings furiously, struggling to their feet. It was either the stupidest or the bravest plan I’d ever been a part of. 

The rain exploded back on the roof. We shot out of the tunnel and into the highway. The driver wrestled the bus into an exit and down a relatively rural New Jersey road. We zoomed past a sign that welcomed us to Fort Lee. At least I think that’s what it said. Percy must have had all his weight on the gas pedal because we shot through half a dozen red lights and twice as many near misses. There was a strip of woods between the road and the Hudson River. We were traveling North, away from the urban sprawl. 

I watched the emergency brake pull itself down and the bus skidded to a stop. The moment the door was open all the mortals started streaming out onto the pavement. I hoped Percy was among them. 

The Furies rose to their feet and lashed their whips in my direction. I slashed my dagger through the air to discourage any closer attacks. Grover took some more tin cans out of his pack and started lobbing them at their heads. 

But someone called out from the front of the bus, “Hey!” The Furies turned to see Percy at the top of the aisle, my cap and his black pen in his hands. He stumbled just a little at the sight of their bared fangs. Alecto sauntered down the aisle, while the other two climbed on top of the seats and approached him on either side. 

I furrowed my brow. Why wasn’t he running? The exit was right there. Nothing was stopping him from joining the others on the sidewalk. Regardless, I was grateful for the distraction. I tip-toed toward the Furies’ backs, looking for any opening. 

“Perceus Jackson,” Alecto growled, “You have offended the gods. You…” she flicked her obsidian whip, “…shall die.” 

Percy’s chest was heaving and his hands trembling violently, but his eyes were filled with conviction. When he spoke, his voice was low and steady, “I liked you better as a math teacher.” 

He ripped off the cap of the pen and it extended into a bronze sword. He held it like it was an extension of his own arm, somehow leagues away from the inexperienced boy that I saw at capture-the-flag just a few days ago. Even the Furies seemed to falter. 

Alecto hissed, “Submit now, and you will not suffer eternal torment.” 

Percy narrowed his eyes and shook his head, “Nice try.” 

The two Furies on the seats sat back to pounce. They were trying to surround him. 

“Percy, look out!” I screamed. 

Alecto sent her whip flying at his dominant arm and a long gash opened up around his wrist. Despite this, he hit the one on my right with the hilt of his sword and slit the one on the left’s throat. She screamed and disintegrated. I took the advantage and tackled Alecto from behind. I wrapped my arm around her neck and tried to pull her back away from Percy so that he could escape if he wanted to. 

Grover wrestled the whip of her hands. He quickly dropped it on the floor and shook his hand in the air, “Ow! It’s hot!” 

The other Fury launched herself at Percy again. He disintegrated her as well. Grover managed to hog-tie Alecto’s ankles with her whip. His hands turned bright red under the heat. Then, I twisted her around and kicked her in the chest. She fell and landed near the back seat. 

Grover and I joined Percy at the front of the bus. We watched as Alecto struggled on the floor. 

“Zeus will destroy you!” She screamed. “Hades will have your soul!”

”Eat my pants!” Percy shot back in Latin. I didn’t know he knew that. 

 A bright light flashed and thunder rumbled in the distance, a sign that Zeus was operating nearby. Alecto was chanting something under her breath. 

I pushed Grover and Percy toward the door, “Get out! Now!” 

We emerged out into the rain, where all the other passengers were taking up the sidewalk. Percy quickly touched the cap of his pen to the tip of the blade and it shrunk back into a pen. 

We made it to the edge of the treeline when Grover gasped and looked back at the bus. “Our bags! We left—!” 

So it only made sense for a bolt of lighting to explode it into a million pieces. We were forced to flatten onto the ground to avoid getting struck by debris. 

After the explosion diminished, another sound overtook the air. A horrible scream, human enough to be unsettling, but animalistic enough to be uncanny. It was a sound I’d only heard once before. “Run! She’s calling for reinforcements!” I shrieked. “We have to get out of here!” 

I pulled the two boys into the darkness and we descended toward the river.

———

I kicked stones, deep in thought as we walked in the woods near the river bank. I couldn't believe I did it again . I lost all my supplies on my first day out in the real world. I had failed to learn from my mistakes. For a daughter of the goddess of wisdom, that was pretty dumb of me. I was trying not to dwell on it. 

We didn’t dare go any farther West, as that was where the suburbs were and Percy was adamant that someone had taken his picture and the police would now be after him. His hair was flattened against his forehead from the rain. I pulled my jacket close against the cold. The boys kept complaining, moaning over our situation. 

Grover’s eyes were still wild. “ Three Kindly Ones. All three at once ,” he brayed. 

They were shuffling their feet and kept looking back to where we’d come. Because of that, we weren’t moving as fast as I would’ve liked. “Come on,” I pulled on Percy’s wrist, “The further away we get, the better. Then we can rest.” 

“All our money was back there!” Percy said. “Our food and clothes. Everything!” 

My face flushed. He was one to talk, as it was because of him that Zeus had struck the bus. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t decided to jump into the fight—“ 

“What’d you want me to do?” He yelled. “Let you get killed?”

”I wouldn’t have… You didn’t need to protect me, Percy. I would have been fine.” 

“Sliced like sandwich bread, but fine,” Grover said reasonably. 

“Shut up!” I snapped. “Goúninos…”

He threw his head back in despair, “Tin cans… a perfectly good bag of tin cans…”

We walked in silence for a while. I walked behind the boys to make sure they kept up the pace. Cold puddle water soaked into my socks and Percy’s blue Reeboks kicked mud up onto my jeans. We navigated through tree roots and foliage. I looked out over the river at the yellow glow that made up Manhattan. Or maybe whatever was North of Manhattan. 

I ran the altercation over in my head. Something about it had felt wrong. The Furies seemed to be holding back. They could have easily transformed the moment they walked into the bus. Instead, they had presented themselves to us, almost like they were waiting for us to yield. And then, when they saw Percy, they stalked him for a moment or two longer than they logically needed to.  

I looked at Percy in front of me. He looked shaken, his face gaunt and stormy. I decided that I wouldn’t tell him about my worries just yet. I wish I could say that I didn’t want to stress him out any more, but I knew, deep down, that the selfish desire to keep to myself the information I’d pieced together was strong. Maybe I just wanted an edge. Maybe I wanted to prove that I was smarter than him. Maybe I was just resentful. 

Percy kept looking over his shoulder at the fading city lights. I felt bad about yelling at him. If I made it look like I was ungrateful for him trying to save my life, then maybe next time he wouldn’t bother. 

I quickened my steps and caught up to him. I stared down at my mud-stained shoes. “Look,” I took a deep breath, “I… appreciate your coming back for us, okay? That was really… brave.” 

I glanced up at him. He was looking at me intently. His bright green eyes seemed almost luminescent in the fading sunlight.

”Well…” he hesitated. “We’re a team, right?” 

I didn’t really have a response. On paper, yes, we were a team. At least we were supposed to be. But somehow it felt more complicated than that. I reminded myself that I didn’t really know him. I’d barely met him a week before. For all I knew, he could’ve been the master bolt thief all along and was using this quest as a cover. 

“It’s just,” I looked out at the endless forest in front of us, “that if you… died, aside from the fact that it would really suck for you, it would mean that the quest was over. And this may be my only chance to see the real world.” 

Percy was silent for a second. “Oh,” was all he said. 

We walked for a couple more miles in silence. Eventually, the rain faded to a light sprinkle and a gentle wind picked up. We all started shivering from our wet clothes. My stomach grumbled and I realized that if we were back at Camp right now we’d be eating supper. The darkness made it increasingly hard to see where we were walking. 

So, of course Percy thought this was the perfect time to make small talk. 

“You haven’t left Camp Half-Blood since you were seven?” He asked. 

“No,” I felt the bubble of irritation rising up in my stomach again. I tried to take a deep breath and decided to elaborate, “Only short field trips. My dad—“

”The history professor,” Percy supplied, like it was a pop quiz. 

I gave a small smile, “Yeah. It… um, didn’t work out for me living at home. I mean, Camp Half-Blood is my home.” I suddenly found it hard to make eye contact. I stared off into the darkness, where I could just make out the grayish-brown water of the Hudson rippling through the trees. “But, like… at Camp, you train and train. And that’s cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That’s where you learn whether you’re any good or not.” 

Percy furrowed his brow. “Well…” he said, “You’re pretty good with that knife.” 

I searched his face. He sounded like he was being genuine. “You think so?” I asked. 

He shrugged and let out a light laugh, “I mean, anyone who can piggyback-ride a Fury is okay by me.” 

In spite of myself, I smiled. Percy had this way of getting me to trust him. Honestly, it freaked me out. But before I could think better of it, I took a deep breath, “You know… maybe I should tell you. Something funny back on the bus—“ 

Just then, a shrill, high set of notes sounded out behind us. We turned and saw Grover was puffing away on his reed pipes. 

”They still work!” He grinned. Then, he started playing a mortal pop song that he’d learned a few years back. Over the last summer break, he’d forced me to listen to it on a beaten-down radio. It started with a high synthetic tone that he said sounded like his pipes. I remained unconvinced. 

The conversation fizzled out after that. We walked in silence for another mile until Percy perked up. I followed his gaze and saw the trees lit up with a neon red light. He kept sniffing the air. Grover and I exchanged a glance, but he shrugged. 

Percy crashed through the forest, emerging from the trees onto an empty paved road. That’s when I started to smell it. Fast food. Real disgusting, greasy, delicious food. The kind I hadn’t had in… well, I couldn’t remember. My mouth watered and soon I was following right behind Percy. 

He stopped in front of an old warehouse, surrounded by overgrown grass and sets of stone statues. Although there were a few shops that I could see on the road, this was the only one with its sign illuminated. The name was written in cursive red neon strips. I squinted hard to read it without success. The letters kept jumping around and mixing themselves up. 

My dyslexia was not as bad as some of the other demigods I knew, but I hated cursive with a passion. It made it increasingly difficult for me to read. Paired with the red glowing letters contrasted against the darkness, this sign was basically impossible. I secretly wished it was written in Greek, then maybe I could hope to read it. At Camp, we had some English books in a special font that made reading easier for some of us. But even then, I preferred the Greek books. Most of the literature we had came in both languages, so it didn’t limit my choices very much. In fact, the book that I’d brought with me, which was about city planning and had just been blown to bits in the bus explosion, was written in Ancient Greek.

It seemed like Percy was having trouble too. “What the heck does that say?” He asked me. 

“I don’t know.” I shook my head. Why did he assume I’d be able to read it? Didn’t he know I was dyslexic too? People always seem to forget that. Or they assume that I’m too smart to have a reading disability. It was annoying. 

Grover, the only non-dyslexic here, read it aloud for us, “Aunty Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium.” 

Why would a place selling garden gnomes be cooking fast food? But, it smelled so good that I pushed my doubts to the back of my mind. There was a reasonable explanation, I was sure. 

Percy and I crossed the street to the store. Grover held out a hand to stop us. 

“Hey…” his voice faltered. 

“The lights are on,” I reasoned, “Maybe it’s open.” 

Percy nodded, “There’s probably a snack bar.” 

“Yeah,” I said, “Snack bar.”

We fixed back in on the doorway and continued to cross the street. 

Grover still seemed apprehensive. He tried to grab our wrists to stop us from going further, “Are you guys crazy? This place is totally weird.”

We reached the front entrance, which was at the very end of a pathway lined by the statues. Percy raised his hand to open the wooden door, but Grover yelped. 

“Don’t knock,” he squeaked, “I smell monsters.” 

I rolled my eyes, “Grover, it’s fine. Your nose is probably still clogged up from the Furies. All I smell is burgers. Aren’t you hungry?”

He scrunched up his face in disgust, “Annabeth, I’m a vegetarian, remember?”

I waved a hand dismissively. 

“You eat aluminum cans, but you can’t eat a burger?” Percy asked. 

“Those are vegetables,” Grover said matter-of-factly. “Come on. Let’s just leave. These statues are… looking at me.” 

I looked at the statues. Their eyes did seem to follow you. Percy and I exchanged a mournful glance. Maybe we could find somewhere else to eat? 

But, before we could turn to go, the door creaked open. Standing there was a tan-skinned woman. She was wearing a long black short-sleeved dress and one of those old-fashioned veiled hats that you always see in old photos of women in mourning. But the veil was so long and opaque that you could barely make out her face, except for a vague outline. Her hands and arms were wrinkled. 

“Children,” she smiled. Her voice was silky-sweet, “it’s too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?”

”They’re… um…” I began. 

“We’re orphans,” Percy said brightly. I nodded along. 

The woman touched a graceful hand to her heart, “Orphans? But, my dears, surely not!” 

“Yeah,” Percy continued. “We got separated from our caravan.”

…okay?

”Our circus caravan. The ringmaster told us to meet him at the gas station…”

Oh my gods. 

I stopped listening after that. I just pursed my lips and nodded at the woman, hoping she wouldn’t think about it too much. I reminded myself to not let Percy do the talking in the future. 

When he finally finished talking, the woman just smiled sympathetically. Although I couldn’t tell if it was because of the sad story or Percy’s incoherent ramblings.  

“Oh, my dears,” she comiserated, “You must come in, poor children. I’m Aunty Em. Go straight through the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area.”

”Thank you ma’am,” I said as we made our way inside. I spent the first seven years of my life in the South, so it was drilled into my head to call every older man or woman sir and ma’am. Aunty Em just tensed up and clenched her fists. Then, her body relaxed and she gestured us inside. 

I caught up with Percy as we walked through the door. “Circus caravan?” I muttered in his ear. 

He shrugged. “Always have a strategy, right?” His eyes were bright, looking proud of himself. 

“Your head is full of kelp,” I replied. 

We walked into the warehouse, which was filled with dozens of rows of stone statues. They were all life-sized and incredibly realistic. In addition, there didn’t seem to be a particular theme. There were men, women, a few children, and a couple of satyrs. Grover trailed behind, whimpering occasionally, but I just rolled my eyes again and ignored him. 

At the very back there was a small area marked off for a small table and a couple of chairs. The air all around was like candy, sweet and inviting like nothing I’d ever smelled. I felt my stomach grumble in longing and my eyes fluttered. Through a window, I could see a kitchen, not cozy like one in a house, but clean and sterile like a restaurant’s. There was a menu taped to the wall, with only a few options on it and their prices. 

Aunty Em took her place on the other side of the kitchen counter. She gestured toward us, “Please, sit down.” 

“Um…” Grover stuttered, “We— we don’t have any money.”

Aunty Em waved her hand dismissively, “No, no, children. You don’t need money. This is a special case, right? It’ll be my treat, for such nice orphans.”

Percy plopped himself on one of the chairs, rubbing his stomach in anticipation. Grover and I were more hesitant. He was staring at a nearby statue of a satyr putting his mouth to the opening of a pan flute.

”That looks like my Uncle Ferdinand,” he laughed nervously.

I took a closer look at the statue. It did indeed bear a strong resemblance to Grover. It has the same impish eyes and curly hair. Surely a coincidence. 

I eased into my chair and Grover quickly followed. Percy seemed completely engrossed in watching Aunty Em work through the window. I realized that we hadn’t ordered anything. 

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said again. 

Aunty Em froze and let out a small strained noise. I wondered what I’d done to make her mad. I would do anything to make her happy, if only to get some of that food. 

Just as quickly, she relaxed and turned toward me. I got the sense that if I could see under her veil, she might be smiling. “It’s quite alright, Annabeth,” she said. “You have such beautiful eyes, child.” 

I hesitated. How did she know my name? 

Aunty Em placed a tray of fries into the deep fryer, sending whiffs of steam out into the warehouse. It’s okay. I probably told her and forgot. I do that sometimes. 

Percy was drumming his fingers on the metal table. Behind him was a statue of a smiling little girl, maybe three or four years old. She had braids pulled up into two ponytails, beads touching her shoulders at the ends. She was holding up an Easter basket full of candy eggs. Her collared dress went down to her knees and she had ballet flats with a bow on top. Her smile was strange. It looked like she had started to smile, but then saw something that disturbed her. 

Aunty Em returned quickly with a tray piled up with food. Burgers, fries, and shakes. I took a generous sip of a vanilla shake. It was delicious and creamy. I grabbed a handful of fries and dipped them in. 

Next to me, Grover was picking at the wax paper over the plate. He kept looking around nervously and eyeing Aunty Em, who was sitting next to us, not eating a thing. 

“What’s that hissing noise?” Grover asked her. 

Percy and I exchanged a glance. I listened but I didn’t hear anything. 

“Hissing?” Aunty Em looked around and shook her head. “Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover.”

Grover was pulled up short. He looked in my direction, his eyes wild. He took a while before responding, “I take vitamins. For my ears.” 

Aunty Em smiled, “That’s admirable,” She placed a small white plate with a burger on top in front of him. His looked to be a slightly different shade of brown than the rest of ours. “It’s vegetarian. Please, eat and relax.” 

The conversation fizzled to an uncomfortable silence. This time, I was grateful when Percy started doing small talk. 

He finished his meal with a satisfied hum, then turned to our hostess, “So, you sell gnomes?”

Aunty Em nodded, “Oh, yes. And animals. And people. Anything that can go in the garden. I do custom orders sometimes. Statuary is very popular, you know.” 

Percy looked doubtful, “A lot of business on this road?” 

“Not so much, no. Since the highway was built… most cars don’t go this way anymore. So I must cherish every customer I get.”

I wondered which highway she was talking about. I remembered that some of the major roads out of New York City were built as early as the ‘20s and ‘30s. She didn’t look that old, I thought. 

Percy seemed to notice the girl statue behind him for the first time. He touched a finger to her face, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“Ah,” Aunty Em said, “You will notice some of my creations do not turn out well. They are marred. They don’t sell this way, but…” She sighed, “the face is always the hardest to get right.”

”You make the statues yourself?” 

“Oh, yes,” She entwined her fingers, sitting back in her chair. “Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business…”

It was like a light switch had been flipped in my mind. Two sisters… Why did that sound so familiar? Suddenly the fry that I was eating  tasted like cardboard. I set it back down on the plate slowly, reminding myself to stay calm. 

Aunty Em continued, “…but they have passed on, and I’m all alone. I have only my statutes. This is why I make them, you see. They are my company.” 

Percy was looking at her, his eyes filled with sympathy. 

“Two sisters?” I asked cautiously, trying to get her to elaborate. I really hoped my suspicions were not correct. 

Aunty Em turned to me. I could feel her eyes boring into me through her veil. “A terrible story,” she breathed, “Not one for children, really. A long time ago, when I was young and… and beautiful, I had a…” She hesitated, her voice filling with a light humor, “…a boyfriend. He told me that a very bad woman was trying to break us apart. Because she was jealous. She caused a terrible accident and took my beauty. Then I had only my sisters to stay by me. They shared in my misfortune as long as they could, but they eventually passed on. They were allowed to fade away. I alone survived to live with my curse.” 

I recalled a picture of a statue that I’d seen in a book one time. It was of the hero Perseus fresh from battle. I remembered it because his sword was way closer to his dingaling than I would have been comfortable with. He was casually holding a severed head and standing on top of a body. Her body. Aunty Em’s. 

How did I not see it sooner?

I shot Grover a small apologetic look for not listening to him before. I placed a hand on my dagger under my sleeve, and Grover took a hold of his pipes. I found myself wishing I had a Perseus like the one in the old stories: ruthlessly determined, quick-witted, and unwilling to compromise. Instead, the Perseus that I was stuck with was nodding off in his chair, while the gorgon Medusa was manipulating him into a stupor. Honestly, what would he do without me? 

I shook his arm, “Percy.” 

He lifted his head, his eyes locking in on mine. He sat up quickly, like he realized on some level that something was wrong. 

“Maybe we should go,” I said. I cringed as I remembered the lie. “I mean, the… ringmaster will be waiting.” 

I tried to shoot him a look, but he just looked at me all confused. He was always looking at me like that. He glanced back and forth between Geover and I, like he was trying to work out what was going on. 

Just then, Aunty Em reached out a hand and turned my chin so I was looking directly at her. Her touch sent shivers down my spine. She leaned forward, holding onto the sides of my cheeks, not allowing me to move. She was uncomfortably close to me. I could almost feel her breath on my face. 

Through the veil, I could just make out the outline of her eyes. She had long, graceful eyelashes that fluttered when she spoke. Suddenly I could understand why she’d caught the attention of a god. Grover was right about the hissing noise, only it wasn’t coming from the kitchen. It was coming from her . I could see something wiggling underneath her hat. Then I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. I sat there, paralyzed with fear as she examined my face. 

“Such beautiful eyes,” she whispered. “My… Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen eyes like those.” 

The moment she let go of my face, I stood up. My chair skidded against the concrete floor. “We really should go,” I said. I could hear my own voice shaking. 

“Yep!” Grover’s voice squeaked. He stood up to join me. “The ringmaster will be waiting, right?” 

We looked at Percy, waiting for him to get the hint. But, he just looked back at Medusa, like he wanted permission to leave. For a moment, I considered just grabbing Grover’s hand and taking off. But, Percy had refused to abandon us on the bus, so it seemed only fair to return the favor. 

“Please, dears,” she said in her sickly-sweet tone, “I so rarely get to be with children. Before you go, will you at least sit for a pose?” 

Alarm bells were going off in my mind, but I asked, “A pose?”

“A photograph,” Medusa clarified. “I will use it to model a new statue set. Children are so popular, you see.” 

I tried to come up with a reason to say no without raising suspicion, “Um… I don’t think we can… ma’am.” I took a hold of Percy’s wrist. “Come on, Percy—“ 

He shook me off, “Sure we can. I mean, it’s just a photo, Annabeth. What’s the harm?” 

Medusa grinned, “Yes, Annabeth. What’s the harm?” 

I looked at Grover helplessly, but he just shrugged. Medusa led us to a nearby bench, where she gestured for us to sit. 

“The young lady in the middle, I think, and the two young gentlemen on either side.”

We did as we were told, but the entire time I was screaming at myself to run. 

“Not much light for a photo,” Percy said. It was dark in the warehouse and the only light came from the kitchen and the street lamp outside. 

“Oh, enough for us to see each other.” 

“Where’s your camera?” Grover asked. 

Medusa stepped back, ignoring the question. She pointed up to her face, “Big smiles, please?” 

“That sure does look like Uncle Ferdinand,” Grover was looking at the satyr statue near the dining area. 

Medusa reached up to take off her hat, and my breath quickened, “Percy,” I said, “listen to me. Something’s wrong.” 

But, Percy’s eyes were dulled. He was transfixed on the old woman. 

“Wrong?” She said, “Nothing’s wrong. If I could just get off this veil…” She lifted up her hat. 

Grover gasped, “That is Uncle Ferdinand.” 

The veil rose just above her chin, and I could just make out a rope-like object at the base of her neck. The light hit it, revealing its iridescent surface. It moved and flashed in the light. I could see the texture. It was scales. 

“Look away from her!’ I screamed. I ripped my Invisibility Cap from its place on my belt, tearing apart the velcro. I felt myself turn invisible and I pushed the boys onto the ground. 

The hissing sound got louder. Grover scrambled off into the mess of statues in one direction. I started to move in the other, but I saw Percy behind me, frozen in place and staring at Medusa’s feet. Almost cautiously, he raised his eyes higher. 

”No!” I yelled. “Don’t!” 

To the everloving credit of Percy Jackson, he followed my orders. His eyes shot to the ground, fixed at a point on the floor. Medusa stalked forward. I could see her dress rustling against her ankles, but I didn’t dare look any higher. In the distance I heard Grover activating the flying shoes. 

I pulled my dagger from its sheath, searching for any opening in the closing distance between Percy and the monster. I spotted a cylindrical glass ball across the way from Percy and Medusa. I inched through the statuary to get to it, hoping I could get there without revealing my position. She grabbed his face like she had done to me, but he furiously squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Such a pity to destroy such a handsome face,” she purred. “The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Perseus. Annabeth’s mother, the cursed Athena, turned me from a beautiful woman into this.” 

“Don’t listen to her!” I said. “Percy, just run!”

Medusa snarled, “Silence!” She turned back to Percy, talking loud enough for me to hear. “You see why I must destroy the girl, Percy. She is my enemy’s daughter. I shall crush her to dust. But you, my dear, you need not suffer.” 

Percy let out a faint groaning sound as he struggled against her grasp. 

“Do you really want to help the gods?” Medusa’s voice reached a fever pitch, her snakes growing louder with her. “Do you know what awaits you on this foolish quest, Perseus? What will happen if you reach the Underworld?”

I reached the glass ball and looked at Medusa reflected in it. Of all things, I was taken aback by how human she looked. Save the snake hair, of course, and she looked surprisingly normal. One of my mother’s symbols was Aegis, a graphic depiction of Medusa meant to terrify opponents in battle. Thalia had had a shield with the symbol on it which emanated an aura of fear. It was supposed to have been moulded from Medusa's very own severed head, but now I wasn’t so sure. Speaking as someone who’s been on the business end of Aegis many times, the real thing looked almost nothing like it. Aegis had a horrible twisted grin, a long forked tongue, and overly large eyes. Medusa had none of that. She looked sort of beautiful.

Her voice broke me out of it, “Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. Take it from me.” 

Medusa had a strange place in Ancient Greek literature. She operated somewhere between monster and victim. Admittedly, most often the former. But it was then that I began to see her for what she truly was: a woman, who lived at a time when she would have been expected to do nothing else except bear children, who’d been caught in the crossfire of godly warfare. I would have felt almost bad if she wasn’t trying to kill me and my friends. 

Grover flew through the air, wielding a large tree branch. He whacked Medusa over the head. She fell to the ground, cursing and screaming insults. Percy scrambled over to where I was standing. 

“That was for Uncle Ferdinand!” Grover yelled. Then he kicked off the wall and made another pass. 

Percy hid behind a statue of a man and a woman sitting together on a bench, chest heaving. 

“Percy!” I said. 

He flinched, clutching his chest like an old lady, “Jeez! Don’t do that!” 

I took off my cap and tried to suppress a smile, “Sorry,” I said. I peeked through the glass ball to where Grover was repeatedly whopping Medusa with the branch. His eyes were squeezed shut, but his nose was twitching like he was guiding himself by smell. “You have to cut her head off,” I told Percy. 

His eyes went wide, “What? Are you crazy? Let’s get out of here.” 

“No, we have to kill her. She won’t let us leave. And it has to be you because…” I looked him up and down. His pen was already tangled between his trembling fingers, “…because you’ve got the better weapon. Besides, I’d never get close to her. She’d slice me to bits because of my mother. You— you’ve got a chance.” 

He shook his head adamantly, “What? I can’t—“ 

“You want her turning more innocent people into statues?” I gestured toward the figures of the young couple next to us.

He looked at them, and seemed to notice them for the first time. His eyes hardened with determination. I took that as a yes. I grabbed the glass ball off of its pedestal. I turned it over in my hands, trying to gauge how much the shape affected the depth of field. 

“A polished shield would be better.” That was what old Perseus had used. I tried to do the math in my head. “The convexity will cause some distortion, of course. The reflection’s size would be off by a factor of about—“ 

Percy huffed in exasperation, “Would you speak English?” 

“I am !” I shoved the glass ball into his chest. “Only look at her through the glass. Never look at her directly.” 

He just looked at me, Grover catching his eye as he flew around above us. 

“Hurry,” I said. “Grover’s got a great nose, but he’ll eventually crash.” 

He nodded and uncapped his pen. He rose and approached the monster, walking backwards to view her through the reflective surface. I leaned backward against the bench, listening carefully. 

There was the sound of Grover continuing to beat her with his stick and her screams in defiance. Grover lunged once more, but I heard him grunt, then he crashed into a nearby bear statue. He groaned from the floor. Then, Percy shouted out, and her voice changed, taking on a strange, alluring quality. 

“Percy,” she said, “you wouldn’t harm an old woman. I know you wouldn’t.” 

There was silence for a long time. I could hear Percy’s feet shuffling indecisively on the cement floor. 

“Percy, don’t listen to her!” Grover said weakly. 

Medusa laughed evilly, “Too late…” 

She let out a loud battle cry. Then there was the sound of an impact and a nasty squishing. I heard something rolling on the floor along with the all too familiar sound of a monster disintegrating. There was a tense silence. 

I took a very tentative peek around the corner, making sure to keep my eyes up off the ground. Percy was there, his chest heaving and eyes fixed on the ceiling. Grover was lying in a pile of broken stone with his eyes shut, a cut on his head dripping blood down the side of his face. 

I moved to approach, but my hand brushed a bit of fabric. I looked down, finding Medusa’s hat lying in a pile of monster dust. I took my knife and cut the veil from the brim, then stood up to go to where Percy stood. I kept my eyes on the ceiling and felt around with my foot.

”Don’t move,” I warned Percy. 

I found the head on the floor when my foot hit the side and I heard a loud squelch. I resisted the urge to gag. 

“Oh, yuck,” Grover said. 

“Mega-yuck,” Percy agreed. 

I placed the veil on the top of it, then wrapped it around the sides and over the back. I picked it up and held it away from my body. I snuck a look down and saw that the thing dripping off of my fingers was a nasty green liquid. 

Percy was looking at it, his face pale and his nose scrunched up in disgust. 

“Are you okay?” I asked him. 

“Yeah,” he said feebly. “Why, um… why didn’t the head evaporate.”

”Once you sever it, it becomes a spoil of war. Same as your Minotaur horn. But don’t unwrap the head. It can still petrify you.” 

He nodded dutifully. He helped Grover get out of the rubble, the magic shoes floating around his head. They deactivated them and shoved them back onto Grover’s feet. 

“The Red Baron,” Percy said admiringly. “Nice job, man.”

Grover smiled sheepishly and used his shirt to wipe his head. “That was not fun, though. I mean, the hitting her part was fun. But crashing was not .”

Percy grabbed a plastic bag from the counter and helped me place the head inside for an extra layer of protection. Exhausted, we collapsed at the table where our supper scraps were still laying. None of us were hungry anymore. 

Percy leaned forward, “So we have Athena to thank for this monster?” 

My face flushed, “ Your dad , actually. I told you this before: Medusa was Poseidon’s girlfriend. She’s the one who he decided to meet up with in my mother’s temple. That’s why Athena turned her into a monster. Medusa and her sisters who helped her get into the temple became the three gorgons. That’s why Medusa wanted to slice me up, but she wanted to preserve you as a nice statue. She’s still sweet on your dad. You probably reminded her of him.”

 Percy’s eyes flashed with anger, “Oh, so now it’s my fault?” 

Well, it wasn’t not his fault. I lowered my voice and moved it around in the melodic way that he always did, “‘It’s just a photo, Annabeth. What’s the harm?’”

He scoffed, “Forget it. You’re impossible.” 

“You’re insufferable,” I shot back. 

“ Both of you are giving me a migraine,” Grover said, “and satyrs can’t even get migraines.” He sat back and looked at the bag where it was laying on the floor. “What are we going to do with that thing?”

Percy tapped his foot and stared at it, his eyes dark. “I’ll be right back,” he said, then stomped off toward the back of the warehouse. He found a door that led into an office. 

“Percy,” I called out. “What are you—“

But he shut the door before I could finish. I huffed and sat back in my chair. 

“Don’t take it personally,” Grover told me. “He’s had a rough week.”

I chewed the side of my mouth, “Yeah, well. He’s not the only one.” 

“Just—“ Grover sighed. “Just lay off him, okay?” 

“Me? Lay off him ?” 

He held out his hands in a placating gesture, “I’m saying he’s new to all this. Just keep that in mind.”

I scoffed. 

“Pan’s pipes, Annabeth, he’s just lost his mom .” Grover’s eyes were uncharacteristically sharp. I fixed my eyes to a point on the wall, bouncing my leg up and down.

”I just think it would do us all some good to be a little more patient with each other,” he continued. 

We were silent for a few moments. Whatever Grover did to calm me down only seemed to make me madder. 

“What about what happened on the bus?” I asked furiously. It seemed like so long ago, it was hard to believe that it had only been a few hours.

“What do you mean?” Grover asked.

“The Kindly Ones said, ‘Where is it ?’ Don’t tell me you skipped over that little tidbit. They weren’t looking for a person, they were looking for an object. They knew exactly where Percy was, they just didn't care.”

Realization seemed to dawn on Grover’s face. “No,” he said. 

“Why would they assume that we had it? Because they know that Hades wasn’t the thief. And if it’s not Hades—“ 

“No,” Grover repeated. “No, Percy wouldn’t do that.” 

“How do you know?”

”Because I just do , Annabeth, okay?” Grover shook his head. “I— I trust him.” 

I sighed and looked at the door that Percy had gone into. The thing was, I trusted Grover. He’d saved my life and Luke’s on more than one occasion. And if Grover trusted Percy, then it seemed that I should too, by extension. 

I thought about how Percy had fumbled the lie with Medusa. Why would he fake that? If he really was the lightning thief, it would certainly require a lot of lying. Was he really capable of something like that? 

Just then, Percy returned with a bundle of cash, a handful of drachmas, some Hermes Overnight Express packing slips, and a large cardboard box. He shoveled the rest of our supper, plates and silverware included, into a trash bin. Then, he slammed the box onto the table and placed the plastic bag containing the head inside. He began scribbling something on a packing slip. I read it and my heart skipped a beat:

The Gods 

Mount Olympus 

600th Floor 

Empire State Building 

New York, NY

With best wishes, Percy Jackson 

Grover and I exchanged a glance. “They’re not going to like that. They’ll think you’re impertinent,” he said. 

Percy put some of the drachmas into a pouch attached to the slip. When he closed it, a sound like a cash register rang out. The box floated up off the ground, then evaporated into the air. 

Percy took a step back, looking at the spot where the package used to be, “I am imperdident.” 

He looked at me, a question in his eyes. He was almost asking me to protest. But, for some reason, I didn’t have it in me. 

I looked into Percy’s stupid seaweed-colored eyes and gave a small smile. After a moment, he softened and smiled back. Maybe he wasn’t the great hero that I wanted him to be, but I considered myself lucky that he was a terrible liar. 

Chapter Text

“Can you tell me a story about my mother?” 

My father sighed, running his hands through his prematurely graying hair. He glanced behind him at the door, through the hallway. Even then, I knew he’d rather be doing basically anything else than dealing with me, but I was old enough that I’d stopped caring. 

“What do you want to know?” He asked. 

I thought about it for a moment, “Tell me about how you met.” 

His eyes grew wistful. “Well… I was the curator at the U.S.S. Constitution museum in Boston,” he explained, like I knew what that was. He often spoke like that, talking about things I knew little about and expecting me to keep up. He didn’t care that I was barely five years old, he was going to talk to me like I was just another one of his students. By that point, we were living in Virginia, where my dad taught military history at the University of Richmond. 

“I had finished my masters and wanted to pursue a doctorate, but my mother had just died. She and my father gave everything to my brother—”

“Why would they do that?” I interrupted. 

He looked taken aback. “Because he’s the oldest,” he said simply. 

“But what about you? What about Aunt Natalie?”

He pursed his lips like he always did when I asked about his family. “I guess…” he hesitated, “they thought that he would share.” 

I’d only met my uncle once or twice by then. And, in that time, we barely exchanged more than a few sentences. So, I had no idea why Uncle Randolph wouldn’t just help my father get through school. If I was him, I would. I tried to think of anything he could possibly gain from hoarding all of the family’s money. It seemed silly to me. 

My father’s family never seemed to get brought up in any of his letters— except his sons and wife, of course. At Camp, I had no idea if my aunt and uncle— or my cousin— were even alive. I didn’t know if he was honestly ignorant about what was going on with them, or if he was omitting the information on purpose.

“It was dull work at the museum,” he continued. “I just did a lot of office work. I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to do. I was itching for a challenge, but I felt… trapped. And then, one day, this woman showed up in one of my tour groups. She asked me so many questions, had so many comments. She actually gave me pause a couple of times,” he chuckled lightly, his eyes growing misty. “I started to enjoy my job, for the first time. After my shift, I invited her to dinner. We talked for hours. I told her about my family and she just listened. She was an amazing listener. The next day, she showed up at my apartment. I never asked how she knew where I lived. She told me she could help me with my PhD and I just sort of assumed that she was a business woman, or something. I started my application to Harvard that night. A couple months later, my acceptance letter arrived and she co-signed with me on a student loan. She was with me for the five years that it took me to get through the program. She always seemed to be there whenever I needed her. When I was stuck on research, if I just needed someone to talk to. She was a good friend.” 

He paused for a really long time, gazing out at the door, but no longer looking like he wanted to leave. He seemed to have forgotten that I was there. 

“When was I born?” I asked. 

His eyes hardened. He looked me up and down and adjusted his seat on the side of my bed. 

He took a deep breath, “Two months after I graduated, I got a knock at the door. I thought maybe it was Athena— or Pallas, as I knew her at the time— because I hadn’t seen her in a while. But, when I opened the door, it was a baby. A crying baby in a golden cradle. There was a note that explained everything. That the woman that I knew was the goddess Athena, that the child had sprung up from our relationship, and now I was to be responsible for it. I yelled for her to show herself. And she did. I told her to take it back. I had just gotten my first really good job, for god’s sake.” His voice became strained, growing sterner as he recalled the memory. “My life was about to begin, how could I find time to care for a child in the way that I should? She just watched me, not saying a word. When I was done, she told me no. She said that heroes should be cared for by their mortal parents. She told me she was sorry… and that was that. She disappeared before I could protest any more. That was the last time I saw her.” 

I just stared at him for a while. His eyes locked in on mine for the first time, full of something I couldn’t name. 

“You have her eyes,” was all he said. 

Suddenly, someone appeared in the doorway. It was his then-fiancée, Minji. She glanced at me and told him that a show that they wanted to watch was about to start. My father rose and kissed me on the forehead. 

“Get to sleep,” he said. 

He turned off the light, plunging me into darkness. I pulled the covers over my head. 

I knew my father didn’t really like me. That wasn’t the surprise. He always acted like everything that I asked of him was some big hassle, even things that I didn’t think were that substantial. Both he and Minji were professors at the University, so I was often home alone for long stretches of time. I learned very early on that the only person that I could rely on was myself. 

Did he even really love Athena? That didn’t seem to be the case from the way that he talked about her. They seemed to be more like close friends. I always assumed that my mother was like Minji, but after that night, I considered his relationship with Athena to be something else entirely. 

Did he even love me ? At least, in that instinctual way that a father should? I thought the fact that I was even questioning it maybe wasn’t a good sign. After that, I refused to ask him any more questions about my mother. 

———

I could feel my heart pounding as I shuffled through the papers in Aunty Em’s office. What Percy had done was incredibly disrespectful. What was he even trying to do? Get the gods’ attention? Well, he’d almost certainly been successful in that. And I had just sat by and watched! What was I thinking? I tried to steady my breathing, reminding myself that there was no reasonable way I could be blamed for it. If Percy wanted to get smited the second he stepped foot on Olympus, then that was his choice. Anyway, it was too late now.  

I searched the office, trying to see if there was anything that he had overlooked. Anything that might be of some use to us. Apparently, Percy had found a packing slip that had the address of the Underworld on it, although I hadn’t seen it yet. I had left the boys back out in the warehouse, where they were no doubt just goofing off. 

There was a wooden desk next to the wall that had a window looking out onto the street. Bookshelves lined the walls, papers spilling out onto the floor. Everything was dusty and I had to stop to sneeze at least three times. It smelled vaguely of mildew and tobacco smoke, although I couldn’t for the life of me imagine Medusa smoking. 

When the desk yielded nothing, I turned my attention to the bookshelves. They were pretty much the only things in the office that looked like they'd been touched in the last ten years. It was mostly just accounting books and business reports that I only gave at most a cursory glance. I huffed and looked around the room one more time, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything and headed back out into the warehouse. 

I found Grover and Percy stuffing some food into a grocery bag, blankets folded up in their arms. They looked at me expectantly when I entered, but I just shook my head. Then, our focus shifted to sleeping arrangements for that night. Percy pointed out that we could sleep in the warehouse, where it would be warmer, but I vetoed that almost immediately. 

So, we found a clearing not far away from the road and laid our blankets out on the ground. We sat around for a moment, shivering in our still-moist clothes. 

“We could light a fire,” I suggested. 

“No, we don’t want to draw any attention,” Percy replied. “I think the Kindly Ones and Medusa are enough excitement for one day.”

I nodded, “We should sleep in shifts, then.”

”I’ll take first watch,” Percy said without hesitation. 

No one argued. 

Even as I laid down, my eyes fluttered. I pulled my knees up to my chest and laid on my side. I slept without dreams, which was welcome. 

I don’t know how long I was asleep, but when I woke up, the sun was just starting to lighten up the sky. Grover was sitting high up in a tree while Percy was strewn across his blanket, drooling down his arms that he was using as a pillow. 

“I thought Percy took first watch,” I said indignantly. 

Grover stifled a yawn. “Yeah, but I couldn’t sleep, so I told him to get some rest.” 

I stretched and crossed to our bag, counting the money Percy had taken from Aunty Em’s cash register. Normally, I would’ve been against any kind of thievery, but it felt only fair since she’d tried to kill us. It was a decent amount of cash, but definitely not enough to get us to Los Angeles on time. 

Grover fluttered down on the winged shoes. He gazed out through the trees, then sighed, “I’m going to go look around.” He didn’t wait for me to respond and disappeared toward the road. 

So I was left alone with Percy, who was snoring up a storm. All around us, the ground was littered with glass bottles and candy wrappers that I hadn’t noticed the previous night. I supposed that some of the local youth had been using this clearing for parties. For a moment, I wondered what it was like to be one of those mortal kids, to be able to just let loose and hang out with friends. I couldn’t imagine it. 

Percy moaned lightly in his sleep. He was muttering something that I couldn’t be bothered to try and make out, so I just ignored him. 

The sun rose and started poking out over the trees before I heard a word from either of the boys. I started organizing our supplies— which were pretty deplorable— and had a very healthy breakfast of chips and soda from Aunty Em’s kitchen. Eventually, I got bored and tried to climb one of the trees. I got just high enough to see over the treeline. A little ways away were some train tracks that I could see from the ground, but now I could just make out a station, but I couldn’t tell if it was commercial or not. 

Percy was still asleep when Grover returned toting a small pink mound of fluff. He was muttering to it under his breath. I jumped back down onto the ground. 

Grover grinned when he saw me, “Look what I found!” 

At first, I thought it was a stuffed animal. That was, until it poked its head out from over Grover’s arms and barked at me. 

“Gladiola,” he said, “this is Annabeth. Annabeth, say hi to Gladiola.”

I searched his face but he looked completely earnest. “Hi,” I said.

Pleased, Grover set the dog down and it sniffed around until it smelled something familiar. It curled up on Grover’s blanket. It crossed its front legs and held its head up high like it was sitting on its throne. I sat and tossed Grover a bag of chips. He gave a handful of them to the dog, which I didn’t think would be very good for its digestion. The dog yapped a couple of times and Grover answered in English. 

“So,” I said passively, “is Gladiola here for any particular reason, or…?” 

“Oh!” Grover exclaimed like he had just remembered. “Yeah, he’s—“

Just then, Percy started groaning very loudly from his spot on the ground. He sounded a lot like a movie monster, moaning intermittently. Startled from the sudden noise, Gladiola jumped up and went to bury his face in Grover’s lap. Percy tossed and turned like he was having a very bad dream. Concerned, I shook him awake. His eyes shot open, looking around wildly. 

“Well, the zombie lives,” I said. 

He sat up, squinting against the daylight. “How long was I asleep?” He asked. 

I handed him some chips, “Long enough for me to cook breakfast,” I gestured over to Grover and his new pet. “And Grover went exploring.” 

Percy looked over to them and rubbed his eyes like he was trying to get them to focus. Grover and Gladiola had another small exchange. 

Percy’s mouth hung open, “Are you talking to that thing?” 

Gladiola bared his teeth but Grover put a placating hand on his back. 

“This thing is our ticket West. Be nice.” Grover said firmly. 

I straight up, suddenly very intrigued. I didn’t care if it was a dancing minotaur that ate all of our food; if it could help us reach our destination, it was alright by me. 

But, Percy didn’t seem convinced, “You can talk to animals?’ 

“Percy, meet Gladiola,” Grover said. “Gladiola, Percy.” 

“I am not saying hello to a pink poodle. Forget it.” 

Gladiola bared his teeth again in a way that was surprisingly frightening for something as pink as it was. Grover looked at me for assistance. 

“Percy,” I hissed. “I said hello to the poodle. You can say hello to the poodle.” 

Percy looked back and forth between me and the dog a couple of times before he relented. “Um… hello?” he said. 

Grover and the dog gave almost identical looks of satisfaction. He pet Gladiola’s fluffy head as he spoke. 

“I was just about to tell Annabeth. I saw Gladiola near the road and we got to talking. I told him about our situation and he said that he had run away from his family. Apparently, they’ve posted a decent reward for him. They’re very well-off, you see—”

Gladiola let out a small huff and Grover nodded. 

“Yeah,” he said. “He doesn’t really like his family. They have two little girls who treat him like a baby doll. But, he’s willing to go back if it means helping us.” 

Gladiola barked. 

“Helping me ,” Grover corrected. “Sorry, but he doesn’t really care about you guys.” 

“That’s okay,” I said. “I wouldn’t really care about us, either.” 

Percy shook his head, confused. “How does Gladiola know about the reward?” He asked. 

Grover looked taken aback, “He read the signs. Duh.” 

“Oh,” Percy said slowly. “Of course. Silly me.” 

I stifled a laugh, “So, we turn in Gladiola. We get the money and we buy our tickets to Los Angeles. Simple.” 

We thought about the new plan for a moment. 

“Not another bus?” Percy clarified. 

“No,” I said. I pointed through the trees. “There’s a train station about a half-mile that way.”

Gladiola yapped. 

“According to Gladiola,” Grover said, “it’s an Amtrak station and there’s a westbound train that leaves at noon.”

I smiled broadly. “Well,” I said, “then let’s get going.” 

———

We ended up calling Gladiola’s owners with a pay phone just outside the station. There was a missing poster on an electricity pole nearby with their number on it. 

An hour or so later, a woman drove up in a shiny black car, her two daughters looking around excitedly in the backseat. The moment the car was in park, the girls jumped out and ran to the dog, who tried unsuccessfully to get away. The younger girl looked a lot like her mother, who introduced herself to us as Caroline. The older girl looked familiar for some reason. She had to be about five or six and was trying to force a sparkly pink sweater onto the poor animal. 

Caroline thanked us profusely as she produced the money from her purse. She explained that they were staying at their rural summer home and would be traveling back to Boston in a few days to visit her husband, so she was very relieved that we’d found their dog before they left. Thankfully, she didn’t ask why three kids were out by ourselves, but she did give me a funny look right before they pulled away. 

Giddy with success, we bought our tickets. We were significantly less excited when we realized that it cost basically all of the money we had just gotten to get us as far as Denver. And not even in the sleeper cars. 

There was a sign right under the ticket prices that read, “ Infants, children, and youth under 16 must travel with at least one adult over 18 years old. ” So we told the ticket lady that Grover was eighteen. We must have been pretty convincing because she let us buy them without very many questions. Grover looks kind of ageless anyway and it wasn’t technically a lie. In human years, he was twenty-eight. 

We had a couple of hours to kill before noon so we wandered around the nearby shops to pass the time. To my delight, there was a decent-sized bookstore. I dragged the boys over and looked at all the dusty books while they played with some of the knick-knacks at the front. I gravitated toward the classics section. I was kind of hoping I could get another book to replace the one that had been blown up, but I wasn’t really sure about using the little money we had for something so non-essential. But then, I spotted a thin book titled Eumenides . I recognized it as the last play in the Oresteia trilogy, the one I hadn’t been able to get at Camp . It was a newer translation too, and only about 160 pages long. 

I bit my lip and looked over to where Percy and Grover were playing with a slinky. Then, to the teenage boy working the cash register. He looked intensely bored and was gazing longingly out the window. None of them seemed to be paying attention to me. I looked around for security cameras but there weren’t any, nor was there one of those beeping things at the front door. Quickly, I shoved the book into the inside pocket of my jacket. It was only a couple of dollars, anyway, so I didn’t think they’d miss it. I reminded myself that I wouldn’t have stolen it if my circumstances were different. 

I went over to tell the boys that I was ready to go before I got caught. I stopped when I saw Percy looking at a copy of The Star-Ledger on a newspaper stand by the front desk. I looked over his shoulder and my heart skipped a beat. The boy in the front-page photo was unmistakably Percy, just after we had gotten off the bus yesterday evening. He was right about someone taking his picture. His sword looked smeared through the lens of the camera. I read the caption: 

Eleven-year-old Percy Jackson, wanted for questioning for the Long Island disappearance of his mother two weeks ago, is shown here fleeing from a Greyhound bus where he accosted several elderly female passengers yesterday evening. The bus exploded on the east New Jersey roadside shortly after Jackson fled the scene. Based on eyewitness accounts, police believe the boy may be traveling with two adolescent accomplices…

I swore under my breath. Now both Grover and I were implicated. Percy glanced at the boy at the front desk and silently flipped over the paper so his photo wasn’t visible. He wrung his hands anxiously. 

“Don’t worry,” I said, just to calm him down. “The mortal police won’t be able to find us.” 

He looked at me and nodded, but he didn’t seem too convinced. “If you say so,” he muttered. 

“We should probably go.” 

He nodded again and dragged Grover toward the door. 

———

We boarded the train at exactly noon and took our seats on the unfortunately not cushy enough chairs that sat in rows facing each other. There were TV’s placed in the walls at the front and back of the car. This time, I sat next to Percy, and Grover across from us. The train took off down the tracks and Percy quickly busied himself by pacing up and down the train car and I cracked open my book, which— thankfully— neither of the boys seemed to have noticed yet. 

I spent the next day and a half on the train alternatively pacing the aisle with Percy and reading in my seat. I racked my brain to try and remember what had happened in the previous two sections of the series. I recalled that it took place right after the Trojan War, with Agamemnon returning to his kingdom after sacrificing his daughter, Iphigenia, to appease Artemis and help the Greeks win. Her mother and Agamemnon’s wife, Clytemnestra, is justifiably really angry with him and kills him when he returns from the war. But she really only did it to get the throne and to be with her boyfriend, Aegisthus. 

Years later, Agamemnon and Clytemnestra’s son, Orestes (he’s the name of the series so you know he’s important), returns home from the Argos and realizes what happened. So he kills Clytemnestra and Aegisthus. And I thought my family was messed up. 

Killing your family members was super off-limits in Ancient Greece, but Orestes has orders from Apollo, so it makes it more okay than when Clytemnsestra killed Agamemnon. The Furies, however, don’t care what Apollo has to say so they go after him anyway. And that’s where the second play ends. 

I was really interested to see what happened in the third installment, because it’s supposed to have established a lot of the Athenian social and judicial order, but some of the other Athena kids had been hoarding it. So I was really excited to get my hands on a copy. 

Eumenides began with Orestes escaping from the Furies with the aid of Apollo and Hermes. They eventually find him again and he calls to Athena for help. She appears and sets up a trial to decide if the Furies have a right to be pursuing him. Which on the list of unhelpful things has got to be up there. Apollo defends Orestes, saying that he can’t be held responsible for the murder of Clytemnestra because the mother really has no right of parenthood, and it’s the father that means something. When I was at this point, Percy leaned over to me and asked me why I was scowling. 

Athena, as judge, casts the deciding vote and determines that Orestes is not to be charged with the murder of his mother. She emphasizes the importance of constructive justice and renames the Furies to the Eumenides (or the Kindly Ones in English, fun fact), but I really stopped paying attention at that point. 

When I finished the book on the evening of the second day, I snapped it shut and gazed out at the window. I tried to make sense of Athena’s verdict. What message was she trying to send? I couldn’t think of one except that the lives of women are less valuable than that of men. Was that really supposed to be the moral? 

I didn’t know if this play was supposed to really have happened or not. A lot of the stories and myths from the old days were based on fact, but even in their mortal history the Ancient Greeks liked to embellish. Even so, I felt really unsatisfied. And I think I knew why. 

You see, there was something about my demigod-ness that had always really bothered me, even though I would never have admitted it out loud. Let's just say that Ancient Greek culture wasn’t exactly known for being very feminist. Girls were considered old enough to get married as early as thirteen, which meant that if I were living back then, I might be getting married in the next two or three years. Women and girls were acknowledged only in relation to the men in their lives and were not permitted to be educated on things like math, literature, science, or philosophy. What little they were educated on was only in an effort to make them more appealing to potential husbands. They were not considered citizens in Athens, despite the fact that the city was named after the goddess of war. It could be said that in the Ancient Greek social hierarchy, women—even noble women— were less than slaves, because slaves could at least hope to be granted citizenship. Many times I’ve tried to think of a single woman in the old stories who wasn’t either subservient or evil. It was difficult. 

My biggest issue with that was: what did that mean for me if I was supposed to uphold the values of the gods? An entire society built on those values had been actively hostile to people like me contributing anything meaningful. What if the gods decided that I wasn’t a worthy warrior, for something that was completely out of my control? 

I leaned my head back to rest on my seat. I looked to my right, where Percy was facing the window. The train car was dark except for a low light right above us and the light from the television in front of us. It took me a second to realize that he was asleep. His head was turned away so I couldn’t see if he was drooling or not. He was muttering in his sleep again. I leaned in to hear. 

“Mom… no, come back…” he said. “No… I’m not gonna help you. I won’t do it…” 

Suddenly, he let in a sharp breath and I jumped back, but he just rolled over towards me and settled back down again. His head was stretched back, his mouth slack against the seat in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable. I found myself smiling. I kind of felt like a creeper, but he slept in such a carefree way that it was nice to just watch him for a while. 

The train jerked and Percy shot up. I jumped back again and forced myself to look anywhere but at him. His eyes locked in on Grover across from us. He scrambled to his feet and started furiously readjusting Grover’s fake feet, which had come off at some point. I knelt to the ground and helped him. 

When we returned to our seats, he let out a sigh of relief. I glanced around at the other sleeping passengers, but nobody seemed to be paying attention. 

“So…” I said without looking at him. “Who wants your help?” 

His eyes went wide, “What do you mean?” 

“When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, ‘I won’t help you.’ And before, you… Who were you dreaming about?” 

He was silent for a really long time. He gazed out the window at the passing farmland. His voice was hollow, “I was standing in front of a pit, but I couldn’t see the bottom. Then, there was this voice. It felt, like, really old. And heavy, somehow. He had this evil, horrible laugh. He told me that he would give me what I wanted. Then I saw my mom, but only for a second.” He paused and swallowed. “The voice told me to bring him the bolt to help him rise again and I could have her again. I thought maybe it was Hades, but that doesn’t make sense.”

  I thought about that. “That doesn’t sound like Hades,” I said. “He always appears on a black throne in iconography. And he never laughs.” 

Percy shook his head, “He offered my mother, though. Who else could do that? And why would he need me to help him rise?” 

I fiddled with some peeling skin on my fingers. “I guess… if he meant, like, ‘Help me rise from the Underworld.’ Because he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring the master bolt if he already has it?” 

Percy shrugged helplessly, his eyes dark. Just then, Grover turned his head and caused his Rasta cap to slip down the side of his head, exposing a horn that poked out of his curly hair. I quickly leaned over and fixed it. When I looked back, Percy was bouncing his foot up and down, his features determined. I placed a hand on his knee to get his attention. 

“Hey,” I said. “No. Percy, you can’t barter with Hades. You know that, right?” I got the horrible feeling that no matter what I said I wouldn’t change his mind. “I don’t care if the Kindly Ones weren’t as aggressive this time.” 

“This time? You’ve run into them before?” 

I thought about the days me, Luke, and Thalia had spent running from them. Days, of course, we had no idea would be our last all together. “Let’s just say I’ve got no love for the Lord of the Dead.” I searched his eyes, “You can’t actually be tempted to make a deal for your mom?” 

He looked a little offended and shrugged, “Well, I mean… What would you do if it was your dad?”

“Easy. I’d leave him to rot,” I crossed my arms and lent back in my seat. 

He softened slightly, “You’re not serious.” 

Suddenly, I found it hard to make eye contact. He was fixing me with a look of sympathy, which I hated. “Percy,” I said, “My dad’s resented me since the day I was born . When he got me, he asked Athena to raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with work. When I was five, he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a ‘regular’ mortal wife and had two ‘regular’ mortal kids, and tried to pretend that I didn’t exist.”

My words hung in the air. Percy was quiet for several moments. I could almost see the gears turning in his head. 

”Well… My mom married a really awful guy, too,” he said, “Grover said she did it to protect me. Maybe that’s what your dad was thinking.”

I shook my head. My father had never, not once in my life, tried to protect me. He didn’t even try to keep my identity a secret from me, which would have offered at least the smallest bit of protection. “He doesn’t care about me,” I said. “His wife treated me like a freak, and my dad just went along with her. Any time anything dangerous happened— you know, with monsters— they would both look at me all resentful. Like, how dare I put their family at risk? Finally, I took the hint. I wasn’t wanted.” 

He was listening intently, his bright green eyes searching mine through the darkness. 

“How old were you?” He asked softly. 

I swallowed, “Same age as when I started camp. Seven.” 

His mouth flew open in shock. “But…” he faltered. “You couldn’t have gotten all the way to Half-Blood Hill by yourself?”

I smiled slightly. I thought about those first few days on my own, how I was so afraid that someone would take me back home, but all of the adults around didn’t seem to see me. How Luke and Thalia just so happened to be in Richmond around the same time. “Athena watched over me, guided me toward help.”

Percy’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t say anything more.

———

Completed in 1965, the Gateway Arch is the tallest man-made monument in the Western Hemisphere and the tallest stainless steel structure in the world at 630 feet tall. Its cross-sections are equilateral triangles of varying sizes in an inverted weighted catenary curve, so it’s less pointed and steep than a normal catenary curve. The weight of the monument is supported, in part, by the stainless steel covering and the legs are embedded into the bedrock, meaning that it is resistant to earthquakes. The inside is made out of reinforced concrete in the middle and bottom, then carbon steel at the apex. The very middle is hollow for the visitor tram system. 

The Arch was supposed to represent Westward expansion, and the determination of the American people. But, to me, it meant so much more. It was a marvel of architecture and engineering and represented— not just American— but progress of the entire human race. It represented hope for a greater tomorrow. In my mind, it occupied the same space as something like the Parthenon. They were both symbols of Western civilization, dedicated to growth and prosperity. 

All of this ran through my mind the next afternoon as I watched the Arch, the redding sun glinting off its surface, poke out from above the Mississippi River as we drew into the city. It was cool to feel like I was even a small part of history, to see something that was so much bigger than myself. Something that would last for generations after I was gone. 

“I want to do that,” I muttered, to no one in particular. 

Percy spoke through a mouthful of potato chips, “What?” 

I gestured to the Arch through the window, “Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon?”

He swallowed, then tilted his head and squinted his eyes to see the monument, “Only in pictures. At least, I think so. That’s the thing in Athens, right?” 

I nodded, “I want to see it in person someday.” I glanced at him, only to find that same soft look of attention. I bit my lip and continued. “I’m going to build the greatest monument to the gods. Ever. Something that’ll last a thousand years.” 

Percy laughed incredulously, like he couldn’t possibly imagine me doing something like that. Immediately, I regretted saying anything. 

“You? An architect?”

I felt my face grow hot, my voice high. “Yes. An architect,” I said indignantly. “Athena expects her children to create things, not tear them down, like a certain god of earthquakes I could mention.” 

He let out a small “oh” and fixed his eyes out the window, where the Arch was now obscured by trees. 

“I just meant—“ he began but then his voice trailed off. 

I sighed and thought about how I would feel if he had insulted Athena. It wouldn’t feel good. I took in a breath, “Sorry. That was mean.”

He fiddled with the caulk on the edge of the window. “Can’t we work together? Like, even a little?” He asked. “I mean, did Athena and Poseidon ever cooperate?” 

That was a tough one. They were more often than not at each other’s throats. They hated each other ever since Athena became the patron of Athens. Then, Poseidon threw a temper tantrum and flooded the city and only exacerbated the situation. I racked my brain, “Well… there’s the chariot, I guess. Athena invented it, but Poseidon created horses. They both contributed something to make it whole.” 

I noticed for the first time how Percy’s eyes pinched at the edges when he smiled. 

“So we can cooperate, too.” He said. “Right?” 

No, we can’t , I wanted to say, not unless I want a second parent to disown me . But I didn’t expect him to understand that. Also, I didn’t want him to feel like I wasn’t fully into the quest. I had to keep up alliances. So, instead I said, “I suppose.” 

We pulled into a station and an announcer went over the intercom and said that we’d have a three-hour layover before our last leg to Denver. Percy shook Grover awake. He stretched and opened his eyes blearily. 

“Food?” Grover asked hopefully as he rubbed his eyes. 

I kicked his foot as I stood. “Get up, Goatboy. We’re going sightseeing.” 

“Sightseeing?” He grumbled.

”Do we have to?” Percy asked. “Shouldn’t we just stay here? You know, in case there are monsters?” 

I pulled Grover’s arm. “Please?” I looked back and forth between the apprehensive looks on the boys’ faces. “This could be my only chance to ride to the top.” 

They exchanged a look. 

“Annabeth—“ Grover began. 

“Look, I’m going,” I crossed my arms. “You two can come with me, or you can stay here if you’re too scared.” 

“You’re not going alone,” Percy said. 

I raised my eyebrows and gestured around emphatically, “Well…?”

They both sighed. I tried to suppress my smile as they joined me in the aisle. 

“As long as there’s a snack bar with no monsters,” Grover said.  

“No promises.” I grinned and took off toward the exit. 

———

We went to the museum first. It was underground with a bunch of exhibits about the construction and history of the site, with a bunch of cool relics from St. Louis’ frontier days. Grover got a bag of jelly beans from the concession stand and he was letting Percy have all the blue raspberry ones. 

Percy looked on edge, but I pretended not to notice. He kept asking Grover if he smelled anything. Eventually, I got distracted by a display model of the Arch during construction. 

“Guys?” Percy said. 

I turned and saw that he was looking at an old-timey wide-brimmed hat on a stand. 

“You know the gods’ symbols of power?”

”Yeah?” I prompted. 

“Well, Hade—“ 

Grover yelped and held up a hand. “Percy, we’re in public. You mean… our friend downstairs ?” 

“Oh… right. Our friend way downstairs,” he glanced at me. “Doesn’t he have a hat like Annabeth’s?” 

I nodded, “The helm of darkness. That’s his symbol of power, yeah. But the helm is a lot more powerful than my Invisibility Hat, if what I heard is true…” 

“It allows him to become darkness. He can melt into shadow or pass through walls. He can’t be touched, or seen, or heard,” Grover finished. “And he can radiate fear so intense it can drive you insane or stop your heart. Why do you think all rational creatures fear the dark?” 

Percy’s eyes turned stormy. He scanned the crowd. I remembered how, in the old stories, Perseus had used the Helm to help him defeat Medusa. 

“But then…” Percy asked, “how do we know he’s not watching us right now?” 

If I was being honest, I had asked myself the same question. And while the thought was creepy, I ultimately decided that it didn’t matter. Either he was watching us or he wasn’t. There was no use dwelling on it. Although, he could possibly get information to use against us. Maybe he already knew that Percy was only going to the Underworld to save his mom. 

“We don’t,” Grover said finally. 

Percy let out a huff of breath. “Oh,” he said. “Amazing. Got any blue jelly beans left?” 

Grover searched his bag, then shook his head. Percy sighed and folded his arms. He was silent for the rest of the time at the museum. 

I watched him as we got in line for the tram up to the top. There was something about his demeanor that I hadn’t noticed before. I realized with a start that he was no longer the wide-eyed, naive boy that I’d met merely two weeks ago. He seemed to be constantly looking over his shoulder, afraid of what might come next. It was a look that was all too familiar, and so I couldn’t help but feel a little mournful. It was nice having someone who sort of lived on the outside. I couldn’t have that in him anymore. He was beginning to become jaded, callused, and not unlike any other demigod I’d met. And while it was a relief to not feel like I had to explain everything anymore, I kind of missed the boy I’d met.

We got into the tram with a middle-aged lady and her dog, who looked a lot like an overgrown rat. It didn’t have a service dog vest, so I wondered how she’d got it into the building. 

The door closed and the woman smiled down at us. “No parents?” She asked. 

“They’re below,” I lied, before Percy could get the chance. “They’re scared of heights.”

She clucked her tongue, “Oh, poor darlings.” 

Her dog began furiously sniffing the floor. It reached Grover’s feet, took one whiff, and started growling. 

“Now, sonny,” The woman chided, “Behave.” 

 “Is that his name?” Percy asked. “Sonny?” 

The woman smiled again, narrowing her beady eyes. “No,” she said simply. 

Percy and I exchanged a glance. 

The door opened and it was… disappointing. It looked like a glorified tin can with small windows embedded into the walls. 

I furrowed my brow. “What’s the point?”  

Percy looked around. “What do you mean?” He asked me. 

“You can barely even see outside! If I’d designed it, I would have made the windows way bigger. Ooh, maybe they could replace the floor with glass, that’d be really cool. Then you could really see how high up we are.” I stood on my tip-toes and gazed down at the ground below. “Although… maybe that would mess with the structural integrity of the covering. I guess you’d have to readjust the internal structural supports.” 

Percy trailed behind me as I gazed down at the legs of the structure from different angles, which was difficult because of the lack of visibility. Then, the park ranger next to the tram said that the observation deck was closing soon. I thought we’d only been up there for a couple of minutes, but I glanced at my watch and realized that nearly twenty minutes had passed. Percy grabbed my arm and pulled toward the tram. Grover and I stepped in with two other tourists and quickly realized there was no more room. 

“You’ll have to go in the next car, bud,” the park ranger said to Percy, pursing his lips and shrugging nonchalantly. 

Grover and I exchanged a glance. “We can get out. We’ll wait with you.” I said. He wouldn’t let me be by myself earlier, so it only seemed fair to repay the favor. 

But, Percy just shook his head and shrugged. “Nah,” he said, “it’s okay. I’ll see you guys at the bottom.” 

He smiled uneasily. And before anyone else could say anything, the elevator doors closed and we began to descend. I looked at Grover and saw that he was fiddling anxiously with the seam of his jeans. I placed a hand on his arm and he threw me a nervous look, but he seemed to calm down just a little. 

Suddenly, the elevator shook. One of the tourists behind us gasped and held onto the other. 

“Please tell me that was some kind of mechanical thing, Annabeth,” Grover bleated. 

I didn’t respond. The floor shook again and, this time, we heard a horrible mechanical squealing, like the Arch itself was coming apart. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna say that’s not normal,” I said. 

We nearly ripped the doors open when the tram landed back on the ground. Outside, the noise seemed to be getting louder. There was a great pounding resonating through the walls, like something very large was moving around inside the observation deck. Grover and I sprinted back to the tram we’d ridden up on, where another park ranger was talking furiously on her walking-talkie to a garbled male voice. 

“You have to let us back up,” I said. 

“I’m afraid I can’t allow that. Please follow the other guests outside,” the ranger said, her voice trembling. 

“Please! Our friend’s still up there!” Grover said. 

“I’m sorry—“ 

All of a sudden, we heard an explosion from above. Then, Grover and I were running up the stairs to the grassy knoll outside where we joined a group of onlookers. 

The apex of the Arch was engulfed in a cloud of black smoke, the metal wall facing the river looking like it had been bent outward. The metal paneling was coming off in chunks and people had to scramble to avoid getting hit. 

“Oh, gods,” I groaned. 

“Please let him be okay…” Grover said. 

Right, I thought. Percy. 

Someone in the crowd screamed. In the hole in the covering, a figure was standing dangerously close to the edge. I realized with a start that it was Percy. 

“What in Hades is he doing?” 

Then, he jumped. And I wish I could say I was surprised, but my only thought was, Yeah, that seems like something he’d do. 

I turned away, unable to watch. I waited for the sound of his body hitting the concrete, but instead, I heard a great sloshing sound. I looked back just in time to see the river seemingly leap out of its bank to snatch him out of the air. White aerated water splashed up onto the shore and Percy disappeared into the Mississippi. 

We pushed through the crowd, past firefighters and police officers that had already arrived on scene. I scanned the river, looking for a floating corpse at the very least, but it was hard to see through the mass of people gathered around. Grover kept moaning that he couldn’t lose another demigod. I pretended not to see the anxious tears brimming in his eyes. 

I found myself thinking that I should have insisted that we all stick together. If anyone was going to get the heroic death it was going to be me. I couldn’t let Percy get all the credit. 

I was just about to give up hope of getting to the shore and suggest that we head back to the train and hope that Percy, if he was alive, would have the bright idea to head that way too. But, just then, Grover gasped and pointed. 

Percy was strolling through the crowds of reporters and emergency workers, completely dry and unharmed except for his clothes, which were singed and peppered with holes. There was a large gash on the back of his pants, but the skin underneath barely even had a scratch. Despite myself, I let out a huff of relief. Grover took off in a sprint, nearly taking out a fireman on his way.

“Percy!” He shouted and threw his arms around his friend, almost knocking them both over. “Oh, we thought you’d gone to Hades the hard way!” 

“Yeah, um…” Percy’s voice was frail. “I’m— I’m okay, I think.” 

When Grover finally let him go, Percy glanced at me, and I tried my hardest to keep my face neutral. I crossed my arms, “We can’t leave you alone for five minutes, can we?” 

Percy’s lips curled up ever-so-slightly, “Yeah, sorry.” 

“What happened?” I asked. 

“Um… I fell…” he shrugged. 

I just stared at him. “Percy,” I said, “that’s six hundred and thirty feet!” 

He glanced up at the still smoking apex, like he couldn’t believe he’d fallen from that high. 

Just then, we were forced to make way for a policeman who was pushing through the crowd. He joined a team of paramedics, who were wheeling a rambling woman toward the ambulances.

“There was this huge dog, this huge fire-breathing Chihuahua…” the woman said. 

The paramedics look at her doubtfully. “Okay, ma’am. Just calm down,” one of them said.

”I’m not crazy!” She insisted. “This boy jumped out of the hole and the monster disappeared. There he is! That’s the boy!”

It took me a second to realize that she was pointing at Percy,  but he was already turned away and pulling us away from the crowd. We crossed the street and started heading back to the train station. 

“Was she talking about the dog from the elevator?” I asked Percy as we walked.

”Chimera,” he said, like that explained everything. 

”What?” 

“It was the Chimera. And that old lady was Echidna. That’s why she was calling him sonny.” 

His breath was coming fast and I thought for a moment that he was having a panic attack. I grabbed his shoulders and sat him down on a bench so he could catch his breath. A reporter was stationed nearby, standing so she was framed by the Arch. 

“Just tell us what happened,” I said. 

“What do you think? It— it attacked me. It blew the hole in the wall with its fire breath,” he said, slightly annoyed. “She said that Zeus sent her to ‘test me.’ The monster knocked my sword out of my hands and down onto the ground.” 

“Whoa, did you get it back?” 

He pulled the ballpoint pen out of his pocket. “It reappears,” he said. “I didn’t know what else to do, and I didn’t want the Chimera to hurt the mortals, so I figured it would disappear if I did.” 

I was taken aback. Did he know that the water would save him? Or did he sacrifice himself genuinely not knowing if he would live or die? I crouched down and rested my knees onto my chest. “Gods… I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Percy asked incredulously. 

“I shouldn’t have left. We could have killed it.” 

He shook his head, “No, you would have died. The only reason I didn’t was because of my dad.” 

I raised an eyebrow, “You think I’m afraid to die?” 

That seemed to startle him. After a moment, he said, “That’s not all. When I got into the water, there was this… lady.” 

“A lady?” Grover asked. 

“Yeah. Um… said she was a messenger from my dad. She told me to go to Santa Monica.” 

“Whoa,” Grover gasped. “Well, we got to get you there, then. You can’t ignore a summons from your dad.” 

Suddenly, the reporter next to us began speaking again. Her bright red lipstick matched the puffy part of her microphone. 

“That’s right,” she said to the camera, “Percy Jackson. Authorities believe that the boy who may have caused the explosion today matches the description of a missing child wanted by New Jersey and New York authorities for his involvement in a series of accidents…” 

We ducked into an alley, away from any cameras. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Percy grumbled. 

“Yeah, I second that,” I said. 

We rushed through the streets, ducking away whenever a cop car passed, trying to make it back to the train in time. Fortunately, the train was delayed on account of the chaos from the accident. Unfortunately, we were forced to wait for several anxious minutes for it to take us away from trouble. 

Finally, the train pulled out of the station and all three of us collapsed into our seats. I watched the pillar of smoke rise up into the sky as we took off toward the West. On the television, the news was playing footage of the explosion. I asked a stewardess to change the channel. 

Chapter Text

"It works!' Thalia gasped.

A light blinked on and she screwed the cover back on the battery compartment with her hunting knife. 

“Duh,” Luke grinned, “you really think I’d get you a bum present?” 

She opened the player with the push of a button, grinning as she took the cassette out of its cover. The front was a pattern of blue and yellow checkers with the name of the band in bright red bubble letters that I couldn’t read very well. I examined it as she popped the cassette inside. The plastic made a loud squeaking sound when I moved it. I opened and closed the cover a couple of more times. 

“Ah,” Thalia squeezed her eyes shut, “Annabeth, quit. That’s totally annoying.” 

I set the cover onto the dirt floor and bounced up and down on my knees, waiting for her to figure out which button was for “play.”

The track began with a small hum. Then, there was a rhythmic drumming that I could feel vibrating in my chest. The words began, "You... you think you’re such a badass..."

I giggled and glanced up at Thalia. Her bright blue eyes sparkled and she winked at me. I laid down on my stomach, resting my chin on my arms. I watched the track spinning through the clear plastic. 

Luke chuckled, “I think Annabeth likes your birthday present more than you, Thal.” 

I ignored him, picked up the player, and held it up to the light, trying to figure out how it worked. 

“How much did it cost you?” Thalia asked Luke. 

Luke rubbed the back of his neck, “Oh… you know, not that much.” 

“You didn’t steal it, did you?” 

“Listen—” he began. 

She swatted him on the arm. “Luke!” She chided. “You want the cops after us too?” 

“It’s fine!” He insisted. 

“We’ve been over this…”

“Yeah, so then you know that I think that it’s stupid!”

I rolled onto my back and placed the player on my chest. 

 “We only steal if we’re really desperate, and then nothing big—“ Luke opened his mouth to say something, but Thalia cut him off with a firm hand. “And even then— only I go into the stores.” 

“But my dad—!” 

“You’re too bold, Luke! You’re going to get us arrested!” 

“Please,” Luke scoffed. “That’s not going to happen. You’re being paranoid.” 

“I’m paranoid?” Thalia raised her eyebrows, then let out a miffed laugh. “You— this… this is all just a game for you, is it? Just a fun little camping trip. Is that what it is?” 

“What are you talking about?!” Luke seemed genuinely confused. “Of course I care! How can you say that?” 

Thalia closed her eyes and placed her hands on her hips. She took a deep breath. When she spoke again, her voice was shaky. “I gotta get some fresh air. I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” She turned and made her way to the exit. 

“Thalia…” 

She shoved the cloth doorway out of her way and disappeared into the night. I heard the crunching of her boots in the snow fade away. Her shoes were going to get wet. That’s not fair, she told me that would give you pneumonia. 

Luke slumped down onto the floor in a huff. I put my head on his lap and we listened in silence as the song continued to play. 

“You made her mad on her birthday,” I said. 

Luke rubbed his eyes and grumbled, “I just won’t bother next time” 

“If we can’t steal, why can’t we try to find free stuff?” I asked.

“Nothing’s free. And even if we did find anything, we might not want it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because it’s probably no good,” he explained. “If something’s free, then you might be the product.” 

There was a short pause and then the next track started up: 

“When I look in your face, I see dirt

All the sunshine you blow up my ass starts to hurt

And I don’t really mind if I’m nothing in your eyes

It’s no surprise to me”

“Is Thalia gonna come back?” I asked. 

“Yeah. She always does,” Luke sighed. “You know… just ‘cause we’re out here, you know, it doesn’t mean that we can’t have fun. I don’t know why she has to be so goddamn serious all the time. And even if something does happen— we’ll make it out, we always do.” 

A couple of minutes later, Thalia came back in, her face carefully neutral, and apologized. She loved her present, really, it’s just that Luke had gone against what she said that had made her mad. Luke apologized too and we ended up having a supper consisting of rabbit meat and dried wild raspberries. We lit a candle inside a stale Twinkie for Thalia to blow out.  I remember thinking that twelve seemed really grown up. 

Over the next few months, our cassette collection began to grow and we would listen to music whenever we could, usually between breaks from monster fights and during the downtime right before bed. Thalia loved rock and punk music of course, basically anything with an electric guitar; Weetus, Nirvana, Muse (she listened to Showbiz for like a week straight, I swear). While Luke preferred older songs, Billie Holiday and Elvis, but especially Frank Sinatra. And I liked aspects of both of their music, but mostly I just liked whatever had been playing most recently. When he turned fourteen that January, Thalia and I scrounged up some cash to return the favor and bought him a copy of Nice 'n' Easy at a store in Pittsburgh.

That evening, Luke blasted “She’s Funny That Way” as loud as the player would go and showed me how to slow dance. We rocked back and forth for a while, until he got bored and swung me up into the air. Thalia had to duck to avoid getting taken out by my legs. I laughed so hard my stomach ached. 

They both promised me I would get my own tapes for my birthday in July, but I never got to find out what I would have picked. 

We lost track of the cassette player and our case of tapes when we were being chased by Hades’ forces, which was a shame because it would have been really nice to have it at Camp. Not to mention that it was one of the only things that we could remember Thalia by. White t-shirt, black tattered jeans, dark blue jacket, green backpack, black boots, silver aegis bracelet, celestial bronze sword. That was all Thalia had on her when she died. Neither Luke nor I could remember all that she had in her backpack, which had been lost with her clothes and weapons when she transformed. It was probably rotting in the earth somewhere, or gone to Elysium with her. Neither of us had the courage to find out. 

———

We arrived in Denver the next morning, having spent most of the night making sure that nobody would recognize us, especially Percy, from the half a dozen pictures plastered on the news channels and papers. I pulled my hood up tight and slumped down low in my seat and advised both of the boys to do the same. It seemed like a small miracle that we managed to make it off the train without so much as a peep from the other passengers. 

That morning, I found myself watching the mortals with a curious fascination. There were times I looked at them with a sense of longing, yearning for that same freedom of normalcy that I saw in them. Other times, I viewed them with pity, or disdain. Sometimes I entertained the idea that mortals can’t see through the Mist because their minds are too simple and benighted to see what was plainly before their eyes. This was one of those times. The solstice was in one week and the world might very well fall to ruin in that time. And yet, these people were just going about their day. It seemed ridiculous. I wondered how anyone could be so ignorant. It seemed impossible that they didn’t know, not about any of it. How could they not? When, to me, it was the only truth there was. 

I braided my hair back with a black hair tie extra tight to try and hide how gross it was getting. We left Camp four days previously and I hadn’t showered since a couple of days before that. I was beginning to feel the oppressively uncomfortable feeling of being unclean. Dirt had caked under my nails. I rubbed my arms and layers of dead skin and grime peeled off in lines. I thought about suggesting we find a public bathroom to wash off in the sink. Grover passed around a tube of deodorant which gave us a huge boost in morale. In addition, we hadn’t eaten since the day before. My stomach felt hollow, grumbling as we walked down the cracked sidewalk next to a busy road.

It all reminded me— rather unpleasantly— of my misadventures in the snowy alleys of downtown Richmond. We had no idea where we were supposed to go, and had no more money for public transportation. Well, we had no more money for practically anything. We wandered the streets for a while, looking desperately for the next step.

When Luke was on his quest, we went weeks without any news. It was nerve-wracking wondering where he was or if he was okay, especially because he was by himself. Back then, I promised myself that when I went on a quest, I would not repeat his mistake. I had asked him about it when he returned, but he had simply said that he forgot, that it had never occurred to him that we would worry. I thought that was unlikely, but couldn’t think of any other explanation for his behavior. 

Because of this, after we had circled back to the same restaurant for the third time, I said, “We should try to contact Chiron. I want to tell him what’s going on, especially your talk with the river spirit.” 

Percy was gazing through the window of the restaurant. He peeled his eyes away from a large plate of blueberry pancakes on a little girl’s plate. “We’re not supposed to use phones, I thought.” 

“I’m not talking about phones.”

Percy squinted at me, but followed when I crossed the street. 

Grover caught up as I crossed the parking lot of a do-it-yourself car wash. He found us an empty spot with a sprayer, which he picked up and bent down to read the instructions. 

Percy was hanging back, glancing back at the road, presumably looking for cop cars. “What exactly are we doing?” He asked without looking at us. 

“It’s seventy-five cents, and I’ve only got two quarters left,” Grover turned to me with his big brown doe eyes. “Annabeth?”

I had five dollars in my jacket pocket, but I wanted to save that in case something happened. You never know, do you? I shook my head and held out my hands. “Don’t look at me,” I said. 

Percy sighed and pulled out the baggie that was once filled with cash. Now, he fished out the last quarter and handed it to Grover. He held the bag up to the light and shook it around so the singular drachma and two nickels bounced around. I took the baggie from him and pulled out the drachma.

Grover put the quarters into the slot and the hose blinked on. He adjusted the settings and held the water up to the light until a consistent rainbow appeared. 

I raised the drachma up in the air, “O, goddess, accept my offering.” And tossed it into the rainbow. It disappeared with a soft splash. Percy’s mouth flew open and I tried not to smile. “Half-Blood Hill,” I said to the rainbow. 

The rainbow shimmered and an image appeared, like we were looking through a staticky TV. I could make out a snap-shot of the Big House porch, where someone with familiar shaggy blonde hair was leaning against the railing, gazing off into the distance. 

Percy gasped, “Luke!”

Luke turned, looking around, before seeing us through the mist. His face lit up into a smile, “Percy! Is that Annabeth, too?”

I smiled and waved and tried to ignore the fluttering in my stomach. It was weird to see him, somehow.

Luke let out a huff of relief. “Oh, thank the gods! Are you guys okay?” He bent down and placed his hands on his knees to get a better look, like he did when he was talking to younger campers. It was a gesture that was incredibly endearing and probably a small part of the reason he always got the new kids to trust him so quickly. Luke was one of those people who never seemed to meet a stranger. I wished I could do stuff like that; I only ever seemed to be able to push people away. 

“Sorry,” I said. “We thought maybe Chiron—“

“Oh, he’s over by the cabins. There were some issues with the campers.” He waved a hand, as if it were no big deal. “Listen, is everything okay with you guys? Where’s Grover?” 

Grover poked his head around into Luke’s line of sight, “Right here. What kind of issues?” 

“Well, there was—“ Luke began, but his voice was overtaken by loud rock music from the stall next to us. 

Percy, Grover, and I exchanged a look. “I’ll deal with it,” I volunteered. 

I grabbed Grover’s wrist and pulled him along. “But I want—“ he protested. 

“Just come on, Goat Boy.” 

Grover handed Percy the sprayer and we took off toward the loud noises, leaving Percy and Luke alone. I took a deep breath once we were away. I didn’t know why I felt so weird. Maybe it was the proximity of both Grover and Luke on top of being on the road that reminded me too much of bad memories. 

The music was emanating from the open doors of a beat-up silver truck, where a guy was bopping his head as he sprayed soap on the hood. His hair was spiked up and the sleeves of his leather jacket rolled up to his elbows. The music blared a loud punk rock song. 

Grover chuckled when he caught up with me, “I know someone who’d like this guy.” 

I forced myself to laugh. I didn’t have to ask who he meant, the guy was a dead ringer for Thalia, all the way down to his tattered Doc Martens. 

Truck Guy straightened when he saw us and closed the car door with his foot, muffling the noise slightly before he spoke, “Can I help you kids?”

“Can you turn your radio down, please?” I said, still having to shout. “We’re trying to have a phone call.” 

“Oh…” He scratched the back of his neck. “In a car wash?” 

“There’s a booth.” 

“Look, the water’s going off and I only have a dollar. I’ll just be a second, okay, little girl?” He smiled at me, and I felt my lips purse. 

“Turn it off now, please,” I said firmly. 

He had a skull pin on the lapel of his jacket and his boots were laced with a rather gaudy shade of pink. He shifted uncomfortably as he looked me up and down. I realized my hands were clenched. 

“Listen—“ he began. 

“No,” I said firmly. “You listen.” I pulled my dagger from the sleeve of my jacket without thinking about it. 

Truck Guy held up his hands in a placating gesture, “Woah. Hey, look, kid, I don’t want any trouble.” 

Just then, Grover played a short melody on his pipes and an almost miniscule crack opened up in the pavement under the guy’s truck. A small patch of green and brown pushed up the tire and sent the whole truck rolling back into the parking lot. The Guy shrieked and chased after it, the sound of his music fading away with him. 

When I turned back to Grover, he was grinning. I put my knife away, trying to push down the wave of anger that had risen in my chest. I watched as the man attempted to reach in through his back window to turn the car off. “Serves him right.” 

“Better than having to stab him, anyway,” Grover glanced at me for a moment, still smiling. 

I knit my eyebrows. What did he mean by that? I was never actually going to hurt the guy, right? I just wanted him to be quiet so we could talk to Luke. Although, I wasn’t entirely sure if I even wanted to talk to Luke right then. Surely Grover must know that I was bluffing. Or was I? What would’ve happened if Grover hadn’t been there? My anger came and went so suddenly, it was almost easier to pretend it didn’t happen. 

I plastered my face with a smile and clapped Grover on the shoulder. It was kind of a bro-y gesture I’d seen Percy do a lot, but Grover didn’t seem to mind. “Good work.” 

Grover grinned at me, “Thanks.” 

“The way he screamed– that was great,” I laughed. 

Grover chuckled, “Yeah, it was.” 

We were still giggling when we walked back over to the other stall. Thankfully, Percy was sitting there alone; Luke must have had to go. I hoped he’d think to tell everyone else that we were okay. 

“What’d he say?” Grover asked. 

“Nothing,” Percy said, but he was wringing his hands again. “Just that some of the other kids found out about the Lightning Bolt and people started taking sides. Said Chiron had to break up a fight.” 

“Oh, jeez,” Grover breathed. 

Percy tried for a smile. “Yeah,” he said. “The Ares cabin is taking my dad’s side, believe it or not.” He glanced at me just for a moment. 

I didn’t have to ask what side the Athena cabin was taking. I hoped Percy knew that it wasn’t personal. Not to us, anyway. I suddenly got a sinking feeling in my stomach. If the Athena cabin— and by extension, Athena herself— was officially siding with Zeus now, my being with this son of Poseidon could be considered a betrayal of loyalty. It didn’t even occur to me until that very moment that perhaps I shouldn’t have agreed to the quest in the first place. How could I have been so blind in my pursuit of honor that I overlooked this fundamental question? Well, at any rate, it was too late now. The only thing I could do was make it worth it. 

“Well,” Percy sighed and wiped off his jeans. “I’m starving. Wanna find somewhere to eat?” 

We didn’t take too much convincing. We found ourselves at the diner we’d seen earlier and plopped ourselves into a booth. Percy and Grover budged up next to each other. 

A stern-looking waitress came over, looking at us skeptically. She looked like she was in her forties or fifties, with dyed blonde hair and prominent worry lines on her forehead. She might have been older, her makeup had been applied with such a heavy hand that it was difficult to tell. “You kids have an adult with you?” She asked without any sympathy. 

“We just want to order some food,” Percy said, looking like he might jump over the counter to the kitchens at any moment. 

“You have money to pay for it?” 

“Um…” Percy opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a loud rumbling outside in the parking lot. 

Someone in an almost comically large pale brown leather motorcycle was pulling in. The vehicle was so over the top that you almost wanted to laugh until you saw the man atop it. He parked horizontally across three spaces and began a steady pace into the diner. He moved with the confidence of someone who knew they were being an asshole but also knew that they could get away with it. 

The bike turned off by itself. Everyone had stopped to watch as the biggest, burliest man I’d ever seen eased open the door. He was wearing a pair of blood red serial killer-style aviator sunglasses. He made a beeline to our table and took the empty spot right next to me. I was forced to flatten myself against the wall to make room for him. 

All the other customers went back to their conversations and the waitress blinked. The man turned to her indolently. “You’re still here?” He spoke in a gravelly voice that I could feel in the pit of my stomach. His accent was vaguely East Coast.

The waitress turned on her heel. Percy and I exchanged a glance. He looked the man up and down, eyes narrowing. 

The thing was, I knew exactly what this man was the moment he stepped into the door. He was a god. You could tell by the way he carried himself, the air of otherworldly superiority with which he met our eyes. Although which god— that took me a couple of moments. His black cotton Huckberry jacket was inlaid with snake designs. His square face looked smashed in, like he spent most of his time running face-first into brick walls. But then I saw the faint glow behind his glasses and I scooted a little bit farther from him. Ares. 

I looked back at his motorcycle and saw the hazy shimmer on the surface, indicative of the Mist that hid its true form. 

Back in ancient times, Ares wasn’t honored nearly as much as Athena— except in Sparta, of course. And while most gods were happy with regular animal sacrifices, Ares demanded more from his Spartan cults. Prehistoric people supposedly offered him humans as penance. And— according to Pausanias (or maybe Paw-sanias, haha)— some even sacrificed puppies. I don’t know which was worse, to be honest.  

Now, he sat with his arms folded in a diner booth, his spiky boots tapping impatiently on the linoleum floor. He looked Percy over, humming quizzically. Percy, in turn,  fixed Ares with a look of absolute disdain. 

“So…” Ares drawled. “You’re ol’ Seaweed’s son, huh?”

Percy lifted his chin and lent back in his seat. His eyes were dark and stormy. “What’s it to you?”

Grover let in a sharp breath and pressed his lips together. 

“Percy, uh…” I was about to chastise him before Ares held up a hand. I felt my throat constrict. 

”It’s okay,” he said in a surprisingly soft tone, “I don’t mind a little attitude. Long as you ‘member who’s boss.” Ares leaned across the table, lowering himself so he could meet Percy eye to flaming eye. “You know who I am, little cousin?”

Percy furrowed his brow. I had the distinct feeling that Ares was trying to catch him in a moment of ignorance. Of course he didn’t know who he was, otherwise he wouldn’t be acting like this. Ares would tell him, then that would shut him up. But to my surprise, Percy nodded. “You’re Clarisse’s dad. Ares, god of war.” 

Ares’ eyes flashed. After a moment of tense silence, he threw his head back and laughed loudly. Across from me, Grover flinched and stifled a nervous bray. 

“That’s right, punk,” Ares spat. “I heard you broke my kid’s spear.” 

Percy crossed his arms over the table in an exact imitation of Ares’ body language. “She was asking for it.” 

”Probably,” Ares chuckled. “It’s cool, though. I don’t fight my kids’ fights, you know what I mean? I’m not here for that. I’m here for— well, I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you three.” 

For a moment, I thought I was imagining it. Of all things, Ares looked nervous. That didn’t exactly seem to be his style. He stumbled over his words— only for a second, but it definitely happened. He had that mean, sneering look that Clarisse always got when she was backed into a corner. 

But before I could contemplate that revelation, the waitress returned with trays piled high with burgers, fries, and sodas. My mouth immediately started watering. She set the trays down and I fought the urge to start grabbing at stuff; it felt rude for some reason. Grover seemed to feel the same way because he began picking at the fries that had fallen onto the tabletop. Ares plopped a handful of drachmas into the suddenly outstretched hand of the waitress. 

“Uh… these aren’t…” She stammered. 

Ares folded back his jacket, revealing a jet-black pistol on his belt. “Problem?”

The waitress laughed nervously and shook her head before scurrying away. 

Percy looked appalled. “You can’t just do that!” 

”You kidding?” Ares smirked. “I love this country. Land of the free. You know, in some places, you can carry around a 50-caliber BMG and no one even bats an eye? I flashed this little bad boy in front of a cop yesterday and all the kid asked me was if I had a license to carry.” He threw back his head laughing. “Well, let’s just say he got his answer pretty quick.” Ares doused a plate of fries with hot sauce and shoved a few in his mouth. “You can even buy ‘em at some supermarkets these days. Best country in the world, I tell you what. Well, since Sparta at least. You carry a weapon, kid? You should. Dangerous place out there.”

I fixed my eyes on the table. Gods help the next guy who pissed Ares off. 

“Which brings me to my proposition,” he continued. “I need a favor.” 

”What favor could I do for a god?” 

When we got back to Camp, I was going to force Percy to read about the Labors of Heracles, I swear to the gods. Then he would realize how stupid that question was. 

“Something a god doesn’t have the time to do himself,” Ares sneered. ”It’s nothing much, really. I… left my shield at a water park here in town. I was going on a little… uh, date with my girlfriend and we were interrupted. I left my shield behind in the scuffle. I want you to go back and get it for me.”

Grover and I exchanged a glance. There was a story in The Odyssey about Ares and his “girlfriend”— namely Aphrodite. Apparently, Helios caught them one time smushing sandals in her husband, Hephaestus’, house and told him about it. Hephaestus was super disrespected by Ares (since women couldn’t really “cheat” in Ancient Greece) and so he created a net that couldn’t be broken or bent for the next time Ares decided to pay Aphrodite a conjugal visit. They got stuck in the net and Hephaestus invited the rest of the Olympians (except the women of course, because that would be indecent) to see them in their— probably naked— state. The gods had a field day laughing at their embarrassment and commenting on Aphrodite’s beauty (gross!) before they finally let them go. It was no doubt an unpleasant experience and a wonder that they hadn’t learned better by now. But that’s the thing about gods— they always think they’re too good to learn. 

“Why don’t you go back and get it yourself?” Percy asked. I wished more than anything in that moment that he would soften his tone. I had enough friends turning into inanimate objects for one lifetime. 

“Because I don’t feel like it,” Ares snapped back. “Listen, a god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Perseus Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward? Or maybe you only fight when there’s a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you?”

I searched Percy’s expression, which had gone ice cold. He looked like he was trying to stop himself from leaping across the table.  He turned up his lip and stared at Ares for a long time. Then, he shook his head, “We’re not interested. We’ve already got a quest. So…”

Ares took off his glasses and set them gingerly on the table. Percy stared directly into the black voids that sat in his eye sockets, then started breathing heavily and blinked his eyes hard a few times. Ares put his glasses back on before he spoke again. 

“I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me— naturally. If I couldn’t sniff out a weapon that powerful… Well, if I couldn’t find it, then a couple of impotent kids and a satyr are going to be about as useful as a sack of wheat. Nevertheless, I’m trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back, you know. After all, I’m the one who told him of my suspicions about ol’ Baldy.” Ares chuckled at his own joke. 

Percy looked at me. “Hades,” I supplied. 

He turned back to Ares, “You told him Hades stole the bolt?” 

Ares shrugged, “Sure. Getting someone to gang up on a guy they were already suspicious of? Oldest trick in the book. So… in a way, you’ve got me to thank for your little… quest.” I got the feeling he was going to say something else there, like goosechase, for example. 

Percy glanced at me again. “Thanks,” he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. 

“Hey, it’s what it is, right?” Ares grinned. “I’m a generous guy. All you gotta do is just do this one little job for me and I'll help you on your way. I’ll arrange a ride west for you and your friends here.” 

That sounded like a dream come true to me, and I was about to say so but Percy spoke first. “We’re doing just fine on our own, thanks.” 

I could’ve strangled him. 

Ares guffawed, “Yeah, right! No money, no wheels, no clue what you’re up against.” He was right, of course, and I couldn’t believe Percy couldn’t see that. “Help me out,” Ares continued, “and maybe I’ll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mother, for instance.” 

Percy’s breath caught in his throat and his eyes went wide. “My mom?” 

“Mmm… that got your attention, didn’t it? The water park is a mile west on Delancey. Can’t miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride.” 

I made a mental note of the instructions. 

Ares pointed a fry lazily at Percy, “You’re lucky you got me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They’re not nearly as forgiving of rudeness as I am.” I had no doubt that was true. I considered us lucky that none of us had yet been turned into vultures for Percy’s tactlessness. “I’ll meet you three back here when you’re done. Don’t disappoint me.” Then, he disappeared in a blink, along with the plate and the bottle of Tabasco. 

Immediately, I felt my shoulders relax. I didn’t realize how tense I was. Percy blinked, his eyes brightening. Grover immediately reached for a burger, which was as good a sign as any. 

I examined Percy. By then, he was back to his normal slightly dorky-looking self. But, a moment before, I swear he could’ve killed something. Now, however, he looked like a kid who’d just been let out of the principal’s office with a warning. Like he couldn’t hurt anyone even if he wanted to. It was… interesting to say the very least. 

Grover spoke through a mouthful of wrapper, “Not good. Ares sought you out, Percy. This is so not good.” 

He continued to shove food into his mouth. I wished I could join him, but my stomach was suddenly feeling very upset. Percy looked a little green too. 

He shook his head, gazing out the window at the spot where Ares’ motorbike had been a moment before. “Look,” he said to us, “let’s just forget Ares. It’s probably a trick. We can just go.” 

When I spoke, my voice was hoarse. “We can’t. You can’t ignore the gods unless you want really bad fortune.” 

“But why does he need us?” 

“Who knows? It’s probably something that requires brains. Ares had strength, but that’s it.” I remembered a line from The Odyssey, when the bard Demoducus recounted the story of Ares and Aphrodite in Hephaestus’ house. He quotes the onlookers as saying, ‘Bad deeds breed no merit. The slow outrun the speedy. See how poor, crawling Hephaestus, despite his limp has now overtaken Ares, much the most swift of all divine dwellers upon Olympus, and cleverly caught him.’ In short: “Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes.” 

“But…” Percy ran his fingers through his hair, “this water park… He acted almost scared. What would make a god run away like that?” 

See, now he was asking some good questions. If it was an unbreakable net like in the old stories, we would be toast if we got caught. But, my guess was Hephaestus wouldn’t use the same trick twice.

I glanced at Grover, but he just shook his head. “I’m afraid we’ll have to find out,” I sighed. 

Percy took a decisive bite out of a burger, “Right, well… Don’t want to die on an empty stomach.” 

“That’s optimistic.” I sighed. 

Percy looked up at me and smiled tragically, a strand of hair falling onto his face as he did so. I smiled back and his eyes began to sparkle. 

———

We arrived at Waterland with our stomachs delightfully full. As it turned out, the water park was not as close as Ares had made it out to be. With the aid of a map stolen from the counter of the restaurant, we walked until the sun was touching the horizon before we made out the darkened neon sign with half the letters broken off. I walked the perimeter of the barbed wire fence, looking for the best way to get in. 

Percy kicked a discarded carton of cigarettes from the pavement into the road, “If Ares brings his girlfriend here, I hate to see what she looks like.” 

I almost choked, “Percy, you have to be more respectful.” 

“Why? I didn’t think Athena liked Ares.” 

“He’s still a god. A god with a very temperamental girlfriend.”

”Who is she?” Percy chuckled. “Echidna?” 

“Aphrodite,” I scowled. 

”But…” he blinked, “isn’t she married to someone?” 

“Yeah, Hephaestus,” I raised an eyebrow. “What’s your point?” 

Percy’s cheeks suddenly flushed a bright pink, “Oh…” 

I laughed. I didn’t know Percy was such a prude. It was almost endearing, in a cute puppy-dog sort of way. He avoided my eye, like I’d just said something outrageous. I shoved his shoulder playfully, which made him smile slightly, “Get used to it, Seaweed Brain.” I spotted a place anchored on the side of the hill, so the ground on the other side was higher. “Come on, I think this is the best place to get in.” 

I was about to go over the logistics of getting over the fence; Grover boosting Percy and I over and then he would fly over in the winged shoes. But Grover had another idea. He shouted, “Maia!” And leaped over the barbed wire. He turned in the air, righted himself quickly, then landed right on his rear end. He brushed off his jeans and grinned at us through the chain links, “You guys coming?” 

Percy laughed loudly, “Hey, nice flip, G-man.” 

“Oh yeah, that was… on purpose.” 

I pulled Percy’s wrist toward the fence and began climbing up the chains. When we jumped down together, Grover was already halfway across the leaf-covered walkway and pointing at a blue-brick building near the entrance. 

“Guys, look. It’s—“ 

“Clean clothes,” I said dreamily. 

Inside the windows, racks and racks of t-shirts, shorts, and jackets marked with the waterpark’s logo lined the small gift shop. To Grover’s delight, we even spotted some non-deplorable snacks near the register as we pressed our faces against the window. 

“We can’t just… do that, right?” Percy asked. 

“Watch me.” I suddenly wished I had Luke’s gift of lockpicking. For now, I’d have to settle for a rock. 

Our shoes crunched over the glass shards on the linoleum floor. As I brushed my fingers over a row of t-shirts, I realized with a start that this was the first time I’d picked out clothes for myself. When I lived with my dad, he did much of the clothes shopping by himself, and at Camp, I lived on other campers’ hand-me-downs and stuff out of the Camp store. So, to me, this was a little bit of a big deal. Not that there were many options at the gift shop, but I was happy with what I got. 

I eventually decided on a teal t-shirt (that was two sizes too big but I liked the color), a pair of rather loud pink-and-orange flower-printed shorts that I don’t think I normally would’ve worn, and waterproof shoes with mid-length white socks with a seal design on the sides. I looked at myself in the mirror and grinned. I looked absolutely ridiculous, but somehow a little bit more like myself. 

I ignored the boys’ looks when I walked out of the changing room and snatched a drawstring bag from a rack and shoved a couple of water bottles, beef jerky packets, and extra changes of socks. Soon enough, it seemed like Grover and Percy got over their trepidation and started getting changed too. Percy looked like he just stepped off Virginia Beach. Honestly, as dorky as it was, the look sort of suited him. He ran his fingers through his jet-black curls and I briefly imagined seeing him on the shore, salt water glistening on his tanned face. I quickly pushed down the thought and focused back on the task at hand. 

We wandered the waterpark for a while until we found the entrance to a waterslide decked out in pink and red banners and bronze baby cherubim. I squinted at the sign advertising the name of the ride in muted red cursive. Inside the dry pool was a little boat covered in red love hearts. Gleaming in the redding sunlight, a massive shield was balanced on the left-hand seat. It was decorated with vulture and fire-breathing horse designs. A magenta silk scarf was draped gracefully over the lapbar and the shield. 

I glanced around at the statues, the floor, the edge of the pool, anything that would scare Ares and Aphrodite away from just getting the items themselves. I touched the stand of the cherub closest to me. Carved into the marble base was a symbol that looked like a lowercase “n,” but with a long tail on the right side. 

“There’s a letter carved here. Eta,” I told the boys. 

”It’s too easy,” Percy said warily. “Grover, do you smell any monsters?” 

Grover shook his head after sniffing a little. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Percy asked. “Nothing, like ‘in-the-Arch-and-you-didn’t-smell-Echidna’ nothing, or really nothing?” 

I realized then that he was at least a little miffed that Grover couldn’t warn him about the monster in the Arch. He didn’t mention anything about it when it happened, which I did think was a little strange; I thought anyone else might be mad. After all, Grover’s failings had put him in danger. But, nevertheless, he didn’t hold it against him somehow.  

Grover looked down at his shoes. “That was underground,” he muttered. 

Percy immediately softened, “Sorry.” Then, he steeled himself. “I’m going down there. Annabeth, come with me.” 

I suddenly imagined the two of us in the boat, struggling under a bronze net as the gods laughed over us. I felt my cheeks flush and I took an involuntary step back. “Are you joking?” I rubbed my arms, feeling the unevenness left over from old sparring wounds and mosquito bites alike. 

Percy looked exasperated. “What’s the problem now?” He asked, not unkindly. 

“Me, go with you into the… Thrill Ride o’ Love?” I felt my throat constrict and my voice go high. My eyes flitted instinctively toward the sky. “How embarrassing is that? What if… someone saw?” 

Percy looked around, vexed. “Who’s going to see?” He asked with his hands turned upwards. I didn’t answer. Percy sighed, “Fine. I’ll do it myself” 

“I’ll go with you,” Grover volunteered. 

“No,” Percy said commandingly, “I want to stay here up top with the flying shoes. You’re the flying ace, remember? I’ll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong.” Percy placed a hand on Grover’s shoulder. 

“Okay,” Grover nodded obediently, standing up a little straighter now. 

Percy looked at me, then began to make his way towards the boat. I cursed and followed him after a moment. 

We climbed down the side of the pool and jumped into the boat without any issues. Percy put out a hand to help me down but I pretended not to see. I took a closer look at the sides and under the seat to make sure there were no contraptions. I didn’t find anything. 

Percy took the silk scarf and, almost in a trance, lifted it to his nose. He inhaled deeply. The sequins cast rainbow lights across his face. 

I ripped the thing from his hands. “Quit it,” I said, “no love magic for you.” I caught a whiff of the sickly sweet scent as I shoved it into my shorts pocket. 

He just shrugged and wrapped his fingers around the sides of the shield. As he lifted it up, something underneath caught in the sunlight. It seemed to be floating in the air, something very thin and long. Percy lifted the shield, revealing another eta carved into the plastic seat.  

“Wait!” 

The wire snapped and collected in Percy’s palm. Floodlights blinded us from above. On the shore, Grover yelped as the stone cherubs began to emit a metallic clicking sound. They turned toward and began to fire their arrows across the pool. Golden threads ribboned across the way, interweaving and entangling within themselves. 

Percy watched them, mouth agape, “We need to get out.” 

“Duh!” 

He grabbed the shield as I vaulted over the side of the boat. He lifted the shield over his head and pushed it over the top of the side , having to stand on his tiptoes so Grover could reach. Grover took the shield and slid it across the concrete, making a horrible scraping sound. Then, he reached down and grabbed ahold of Percy’s wrist just as the countdown began. 

“Live to Olympus in thirty… twenty-nine… twenty-eight…” The voice was vaguely female, speaking in a firm yet pleasant tone.   

We watched as niches opened up at the bottom of the pool and wave after wave of bronze-colored objects began to crawl towards us. 

Before I fully recognized what they were, I felt the fear rise up in my stomach. Suddenly, I was seven years old again, feeling thousands of little legs crawling all over my body, on my face, in my hair. I felt them in my throat and my nose, suffocating me, choking me. 

Percy, eyes wide, looked from the spiders to me as I spluttered and gagged. Something seemed to dawn on his face. 

Most Athena kids are afraid of spiders, me more than most. Late last summer, somehow Connor Stoll found out about this and both he and Travis had teased me about it for days. Until finally, one night after the campfire, Connor had smiled at me and told me to sleep well. When I’d arrived back at the cabin, I’d found a six-inch long tarantula getting its disgustingness all over my pillow. How or where he got the creature I had no idea— I had long-since learned that I didn’t want to know the answer to questions like that. In the end, Luke had had to pry me off of him after I’d barged into the Hermes cabin, knife in hand. Since, we had laughed about the incident, but I didn’t really forget it. And I definitely wasn’t ready to forgive him. 

Now, I looked at Percy, his eyes full of concern. He was perhaps a little startled but there was no trace of malice in his expression. Then, his expression hardened with determination and he gripped my wrist. The loudspeaker continued to count down as Percy led me back into the boat and started kicking the approaching spiders away. I wanted to help, but I couldn’t make myself move. 

Percy looked around frantically, at the sheet of netting above our heads, then at the wave of spiders blocking the other side of the ride. Then, he was pointing at the control booth and yelling at Grover to turn on the ride. I couldn’t think anything other than that was probably a bad idea. Grover began wildly smashing the buttons on the control panel, but nothing happened. He looked at Percy and shook his head. Percy cursed under his breath. 

“Five… four… three…” announced the pleasant voice. 

Percy looked at me one last time and squeezed his eyes shut. I felt a rumbling deep in the pit of my stomach. Just as the countdown hit zero, the ride exploded and water splashed up onto the boat, reacting to the movements of Percy’s now open hand. We spun in circles around a whirlpool. The spiders began to spark and fall into the water. Suddenly, my head was cleared, although the fear only gave way to panic. I glanced up at the lights glaring down at us and tried to project a look of control. 

The water pushed up down the tunnel, where we bounced up and down past a series of murals. Before I knew it, we were back out in the open air, where our path was now blocked by two boats that had washed up with the flood. 

“We have to jump!” Percy yelled. 

“What?”

”Unless you want to get smashed to death!” He strapped the shield to his arm and gripped my hand. “On my mark!” 

“No!” I tried my best to recall the diagrams in the college physics textbook back at Camp. “On my mark!” I fought through the fog in my brain to remember the equation. If the gate was 6 meters tall and the drop was 1.5 meters and we were going about 35 miles per hour, which is about 16 meters per second… 

“What?!” Percy yelled, breaking my concentration. 

“It’s simple physics! Trajectory for projectile motion—!” 

“Fine, whatever! On your mark!” 

…then we would clear the fence at a 40-degree angle 13 meters or 43 feet from the point of maximum height. So, I tightened my grip on Percy’s hand and waited until we were about 40 feet from the gate. 

“Now!” 

We jumped and our boat crashed into the pileup just as my toe brushed the top of the gate. It was then that I realized that I didn’t account for the second half of the projectile arch and we were imminently about to crash into the concrete walkway. 

Something yanked my arm up painfully and I cried out. Grover was fluttering over us with the flying shoes. He had Percy’s shirt in one hand and my arm in the other. Unfortunately, the lift provided by the shoes was not enough to do anything except slow our fall slightly and we all fell into a cardboard display. I landed hard on my back and was forced to lay gasping blindly on the concrete for a few seconds. 

Once I caught my breath, I took stock of my injuries. Other than a very bruised arm and back, I seemed fine. I looked up to find Percy’s hand extended in my direction. My face flushed. “I’m fine,” I mumbled as I pushed myself to my feet. 

Percy sighed and brushed off his arms and legs. Then, he looked up at the cameras still trained on us. He clenched his fists like he wanted to fight the cameras themselves. 

“Show’s over! Thank you! Good night!” He said in a loud, sing-songy voice. He huffed with satisfaction as the cameras retreated back into the cherub statues. He was almost trembling with rage as he glared back at the road. “We need to have a little talk with Ares.” 

Grover and I exchanged a glance and rose. I tried to ignore the knot in my stomach as we made our way back to the diner. 

Percy and I walked side-by-side and I took extra care to make sure my arm didn’t brush his. I kept glancing at him, but his gaze was always fixed on the horizon. I hoped he was only mad at Ares, and not at me. If I was him, I would be mad at me. I had been nearly paralyzed with fear, a burden and absolutely no help. Now, I just felt embarrassed.  Although, I was probably more embarrassed that Percy had seen me like that than that it had been captured live to Olympus. Which was weird because Percy was just… well, just Percy. 

Before I could ponder that any further, we spotted the now-familiar sight of Ares’ motorbike, now parked over a downed handicapped sign. In the low light of a streetlamp, the leather was the muted yellow color of an old bruise. Off in the corner of the parking lot idled a semitruck.  

In the diner, the sign blinked on as the sun set over the horizon. The glow of the fluorescent lights cast shadows on the pavement. The waitress that served us earlier was making rounds to the handful of remaining customers and kept glancing out the window at us. Her eyes shone in recognition when she saw us. 

Ares threw a cigar over his shoulder when he saw us coming. “Well… you’re still alive,” he said with a smug grin. 

Percy threw the shield onto the ground at Ares’ feet. “You knew it was a trap.” 

The hulking man lifted his chin and folded his arms, causing his massive biceps to stick out. He let out a hum of satisfaction, like he’d done something especially exemplary. “Bet my brother was surprised when he netted a couple stupid demigods. Y’all looked good on TV, by the way.” He winked. 

His words dropped with triumph, although I didn’t know why. Getting someone else to do your dirty work is not the same as outsmarting your opponent, although Ares didn’t seem to get the difference. 

When I was around Ares, I felt like I wasn’t welcome or allowed to speak. I was angry at this man, it was like he radiated negative and hateful energy wherever he went. But, unlike Percy, I didn’t feel like I could express it, so I didn’t say anything. 

“You’re such a jerk,” Percy spat. 

I bit my tongue as Ares’ eyes flashed. He bent down and picked up his shield. He used his jacket sleeve to shine the bronze surface and carefully examined it for any imperfections— which, of course, there was none. He tossed the shield into the air and it glimmered as it transformed into a Kevlar vest, which he slung over his shoulder. Then, he pointed a lazy finger at the eighteen-wheeler. 

“There’s your ride. Straight to LA with one stop in Vegas.” 

I squinted at the printed sign on the side of the truck. The text was white-on-black, so I couldn’t read it very well, but I could make out the last word: ANIMALS. I looked at Grover and his mouth was hanging open in disbelief. 

“Are you kidding?” Percy asked. 

Ares waved a hand and the back door creaked open. Hay and animal droppings fell onto the pavement. “Stop complaining,” he growled. He pulled a navy blue drawstring bag from the handles of his bike. “Here’s something extra for your troubles.” He tossed the bag to Percy. 

Percy took a look inside and scrunched up his nose. “I don’t want your—“ 

Grover’s eyes went wide and he plastered his face with a desperate smile as he placed a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Thank you, Lord Ares,” he said in a loud voice. 

Percy glared up at Ares and reluctantly slung the bag over his shoulder. 

Something caught my eye from inside the diner. The waitress was bent over the kitchen counter, speaking to someone in the back. A man with a shock of gray hair came out into the dining room. He took a quick look at us and then reappeared with a digital camera. I looked at Percy and saw that he was watching them too. He just sighed and turned back to Ares, who was crossing to his bike. 

“You promised me information about my mother.” His voice had grown into a soft intensity. 

Ares smirked and raised an eyebrow, “You sure you can handle it, kid? She's not dead.” 

Percy went pale. “What do you mean?” 

Another cigar materialized in Ares’ hand. He lit it with a snap of his fingers and took a long drag. “I mean… she was taken away in a shower of gold, right? That’s metamorphosis, not death. She’s being kept.” 

I looked at Grover, but he just shook his head, looking as confused by the news as I felt. All the anger had evaporated from Percy’s face and his eyes lit up with a hesitant hope, then worry as he realized what that meant. Suddenly he was a kid again, just worried about his mom. 

“Kept? Why?” 

Ares chuckled, “You need to study war, kid. Hostages. You take somebody to control somebody else.” 

I studied Percy’s expression in vain. He looked like his mind was running a million miles a second. Why would Hades take Percy’s mom? It wasn’t to get him to do something, as Hades hadn’t asked anything of Percy, even though he’d visited him in his dreams multiple times. Maybe it was to get Percy to come to him. But that would imply that Percy had something that Hades wanted. Which wouldn’t make sense unless Hades knew that thing— namely, the Lightning Bolt— was not already in his possession. None of it made sense unless… unless Percy was the thief in the first place. A notion that, over the last few days, I found increasingly unlikely. 

Percy’s voice was barely above a whisper, “Nobody’s controlling me.” 

Ares’ smile widened. “Oh, yeah?” He chuckled. “See y’all around.” He straddled his bike and revved the engine. 

“You know, you’re pretty smug,” Percy shot back, “for someone who runs from Cupid statues.” 

Ares looked at Percy over his shoulder, as if the boy was an irritating fly that he desperately wanted to swat. “We’ll meet again, punk. Next time you’re in a fight… watch your back.” 

Even though it wasn’t directed toward me, the threat sent shivers down my spine. See, Athena’s version of war I could handle. It was all planning, strategizing, pieces moving across a chess board. War from afar. Ares was everything that was horrific about war. Brutality; famine and disease; soldiers crashing together in a sea of blood; civilians caught in the crossfire; starving, orphaned children; men taking the lives and dignities of women and girls whenever they pleased. Ares’ power came from the fact that he could curse entire nations. Most of the other gods’ malevolence could be expressed through him. 

I stared at the marks leftover on the pavement where Ares had skidded away. “That was not smart, Percy,” I said. 

He sighed, “I don’t care.” 

“Percy.” He turned to me, his expression dark and unfocused. “You don’t want any god as your enemy, but especially not that god.” 

Grover made a squeaking noise, “Uh… hey, guys? I hate to interrupt but if we’re taking the zoo express, we need to hurry.” 

He gestured toward the diner, where two men in coveralls embellished with the company’s logo were making their way to the door, laughing a little too loudly. One of them pulled a strange brown bottle out of the inside of his jacket and passed it to the other. 

Grover unlatched the back roll-up door and we climbed in. He slammed it shut just as the men stumbled out of the diner door. 

Flies buzzed in my ears. For a moment, we stumbled in the dark, trying not to gag on the hot cloud of stench that suddenly engulfed us until Percy uncapped his sword. The faint glow illuminated three cages. The floor was covered in a bed of hay, although it looked like it hadn’t been changed in a very long time. The truck reeked of excrement and rot. I realized with a start that one of the creatures was a zebra, although it was so filthy its stripes seemed to blend together. Another was a lion with a light tan coat and the last was an antelope with beautiful spiral horns. The lion just stared at us, his tail whipping back and forth. Then, seemingly not finding us interesting enough, rose and began to attempt to pace in his cage, although he could barely turn around without hitting the metal bars. I caught a glimpse of a row of bloody scratches on his back. It looked like the poor guy had been hurting itself out of sheer boredom. The antelope’s fur was sticking up down its back and was trembling fretfully. 

Grover was fuming. “This is kindness?!” He exclaimed. “Humane zoo transport??”

Just then, the truck rumbled to life and jerked forward. I stumbled back to keep from falling on my butt. That’s when Percy got to work. He took a water jug from the corner of the trailer and refilled the animal’s water bowls and rearranged their food with the tip of his sword. 

Grover kneeled in front of the antelope and started whispering to it softly. Eventually, the frightened animal let him reach through the bars and pet its neck. The antelope relaxed and laid on the floor. Grover continued to pet and whisper to the animal until it drifted off to sleep. 

“Annabeth.” 

I tore my eyes away from the antelope cage and turned to see Percy crouched next to the zebra, attempting to angle his sword around the bars. 

“I’m trying to—“ Percy sighed. “My sword’s too long.” 

Upon closer inspection, I realized what he was doing. The zebra’s mane was matted and covered in chewed-up gum. I unsheathed my knife and sat criss-cross on the hay floor. The zebra didn’t fight it, she seemed to almost welcome it, in fact. In my mind, I kept calling it a “she,” even though I couldn’t exactly be sure. I ended up having to fish my hairbrush out of my backpack to help detangle the zebra’s mane. I couldn’t imagine how painful all those knots would be, pulling on her skin. It took a while and it ended up being really choppy, but I did the best I could and she didn’t seem to mind. 

By the time I had mostly detangled the zebra mane, Grover had curled up on an empty food bag but his breathing was still shallow, so I suspected he wasn’t actually asleep. Percy pulled his knees up to his chest and leaned his head against the wall. I undid my braid and smoothed my hair back again into a ponytail, tightening until I was satisfied. Then I examined the contents of the bag Ares had given Percy. There was mortal money, a baggie of drachma, three sets of clothes, and a box of Oreos. I took one, then quickly remembered that I didn’t like the frosting, so I only nibbled at the cookie part. 

I ran through the day’s events in my mind. Something kept nagging at me. I glanced up at Percy, who was rubbing the bridge of his nose. I pressed my tongue between my teeth and sighed. “Hey…” I cleared my throat. “Sorry for, you know, freaking out at the water park.” 

 He looked confused for a moment, then shook his head. “It’s okay.” He gave a half-smile. “We’re a team, remember? Besides, we had Grover and his fancy flying.” 

I could hear Grover’s smile even though his back was turned, “Yeah, I was pretty good, wasn’t I?” 

Percy chuckled. I managed a small smile. “But, still…” I began. 

Percy waved his hand dismissively. He took my leftover Oreo halves and shoved a few in his mouth, which seemed like a sign that he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

I picked at the peeling sole of my shoe. Something else was bothering me. “At the car wash… Luke’s Iris Message… Did he really say nothing?”

Percy chewed thoughtfully then swallowed. “He said… that you and him go way back. He also said to tell Grover that…” He glanced at Grover, who had suddenly gone very still, “…that nobody’s going to turn into a pine tree this time.” 

I took in an involuntary breath. It’s something only Luke could get away with saying. Still, I could tell the remark hit Grover hard. He turned and sat up, resting his elbows on his knees. 

“What did he mean?” Percy asked softly. 

Grover rubbed his eyes and we began to explain how Luke and I reached camp, and how Thalia had not. The whole time, I watched Percy’s face morph in the low light. He glanced back and forth between the two of us as he began to put the pieces together. 

The first few weeks after we came to camp was hard for all of us, but Grover especially.  Luke knew her the longest— but he didn’t struggle with the same crushing guilt that Grover had carried for five years at this point. And me— well, I don’t even know if I fully understood what happened. I remember waking up months afterwards wondering where Thalia was. But for Grover, everything that he’d been working towards, for nearly his entire life, had come crumbling down in one horrible night. Not to mention that he blamed himself entirely, as if it hadn’t been Thalia’s own decision. And we all shared at least a little responsibility for why it happened the way it did and there was nothing any of us could do about that. Still, I knew a thing or two about not being able to stop obsessing over mistakes. 

I tried to tell him as much now, what I wasn’t able to tell him when it happened, when I was too overwhelmed by shock and emotion to articulate my thoughts clearly enough. He was leaning against the side of the antelope’s cage, one of the empty food bags draped tight over his shoulders. 

“You’re the bravest satyr I’ve ever met. Name one other that would go to the Underworld. I’m sure Percy is really grateful to have you.” I nudged him with my foot and he perked up. 

“Yeah. It wasn’t luck that you found Thalia and I. You’re a natural searcher. And that's why you’ll find Pan.” 

Grover’s eyes sparkled in the light, and for a moment I thought he might actually believe it. 

Minutes passed in silence and the truck leveled out onto a long stretch of road. Grover began snoring lightly in the corner, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I tried. Percy was still munching on Oreos. I was going to have to cut him off eventually, to save the rest for later. He was still looking at Grover, his eyebrows scrunched slightly. 

“That was a really nice thing you said.” 

“It’s true.” 

At my knee, the zebra nudged her nose through the gaps of the bars. I scratched her forehead until she also began to snore. 

“Is that ring your father’s?” 

“I— yeah. It is.”

”You don’t have to talk about it.” 

I hesitated. I hadn’t told anyone about the ring, nor the letter from my father. Not even Luke. No one had asked yet. “It… it’s okay. He… um, he sent it to me earlier this summer. The ring is, like, his main keepsake from when he was with Athena. He kind of… apologized for a bunch of stuff. I think he wants me to come live with him again. I don’t know. He sounded… different.”

”Well, that doesn’t sound too bad.” 

“Yeah,” I let out a huff of breath and ran my fingers through the ends of my ponytail. “Well, you don’t know my dad.” 

“Does he…” Percy’s voice took on a hesitant air. “I mean, did he… you know?” 

“No,” I said quickly. “No, never. I mean, not, like…” 

Percy raised an eyebrow. 

“I mean, he didn’t ever, like, hit me or anything. That wasn’t really his style… And a lot of it was from my stepmom. He just never stopped her.” 

“But you said he sounded different. Maybe they’ve changed.” 

I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Anyway, my father’s made his choice.” 

“Did he?” Percy asked. 

His eyes met mine and I felt something flutter in my chest. I quickly looked away and moved to lay down.  I pulled my jacket close and used the backpack as a pillow. 

Percy bit into another Oreo. “If the gods fight, do you think things will line up the same way they did in the Trojan War? Athena versus Poseidon?” 

“I don’t know…” I squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, he was looking at me intently again. I turned away, pulling my hood up. ”I don’t know what my mom will do. But I just know I’ll fight next to you.” 

Percy was quiet for a while. And, for a moment, I worried that I’d said something wrong. “Why?” 

“Because,” I said to the wall. My voice was hard. “Because you’re my…” I didn’t really know how to describe what he was to me. Ally? Companion? “…my friend, Seaweed Brain. Any more stupid questions?” 

I laid very still, hoping he would figure I was asleep. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything else and within a couple of minutes I heard him lay down as well. 

I stared at the wall, trying to push down the horrible feeling that was rising within me. For the second time that day, I wondered why I felt so weird. I forced myself to take a step back and to look at the situation from an objective standpoint. 

The thing about Percy that I really didn’t want to admit was: I liked him. A lot. I liked the way he laughed— a bright, slightly raspy noise deep in the back of his throat. I liked how his eyes almost fully closed when he smiled. I liked how he said my name, all three syllables loud and clear like he didn’t want to miss a single letter. I liked that when he said something, you knew that he meant it. 

And maybe if I was someone else, in some other time and place, I would have easily been able to consider him my friend. Percy had been nothing but kind to me, except on a select few occasions where it was reasonable and always for the right reasons. I didn’t know what was holding me back. After all, I’d seen him fight. I knew he’d make a wonderful ally if the need presented itself.

Maybe something was broken in my brain. Well, other than the obvious. And something told me that this went beyond just him being a son of Poseidon. 

He was far too nice to be so vicious, for one. There were a couple of times— only a couple— where I’d witnessed a different side of him. It was like he snapped and the façade of civility vanished and he became a different boy entirely. There were times when you could tell he wasn’t all there— his eyes growing distant and his mind wandering far from here and now. Then there were other moments. Moments where he looked so intensely at me that it felt like he could burn a hole right through my chest. How long would it be before that viciousness was turned on me? How long would I have to play allies with the boy I talked to by the canoe lake? 

Even then, Percy had been implicated— rather adamantly— by Zeus to be the lightning thief. If I was being honest with myself, I didn’t know Percy, not really. So, for all I knew, Zeus could be right. I mean, Percy feigned ignorance about gods and monsters and all that, but that’s exactly what it could be— an act. And I could be the stupid little girl who was falling right for it. 

But most of all, I recalled the prophecy Chiron had shown me in the Big House two years previously. I remembered it verbatim even though I’d only read it once. “Hero’s soul, cursed blade shall reap/ A single choice shall end his days.” If Percy was truly the half-blood the prophecy spoke about (and we only had a mere four years to find out) then he wasn’t even long for this world. So what would even be the point in getting attached to him now, knowing soon it was all going to end? I supposed that was true of all relationships, though. Even then, it’s not like I could tell him the prophecy until he was supposed to know, so he would never fully understand. 

Not for the first time in my life, I wished that I was someone else. Things always seemed to come more naturally to other people, even other demigods. Something was different about me, my brain didn’t work like other people’s. If it did, I was certain this all wouldn’t nearly be as complicated. I wished I could— just for a moment— take a peek inside Percy’s brain. What did he think of me? What was going through his mind right then? At the moment, I didn’t have the foggiest idea. Did he like me too? Was he indifferent? Or, worst of all, what if he despised me? There were too many factors to consider, too many reasons not to involve myself. 

I’d had crushes on people before. Stolen glances across the campfire, hands brushing during Fourth-of-July firework shows. But I never seemed to be able to make it go past that stage. Not that it was that big a deal— I was only eleven after all, I had plenty of time for a boyfriend. But, it all seemed to be setting some sort of horrible precedent. Gods, that would be just my luck. 

But this felt different than anything I’d experienced before. This went deeper, touched something very raw inside me. And that’s what terrified me the most. It was scary how much I was drawn to him, like something far back in my subconscious was telling me, “It’s him. That one right there.” 

It wasn’t until my shoulder started to ache against the metal floor and I could feel the gentle breathing of the boys and the animals behind my back that it dawned on me. 

Godsdamnit. 

I’m in love with Percy Jackson.