Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy didn’t want to go to Westover Hall. The very idea filled him with dread, a chill spreading through his veins all the way to the tips of his fingers.

“If you feel that bad about it just don’t go,” Lee suggested. The son of Apollo flopped back on his bunk, his face momentarily blurring through the Iris-Message they were using to talk. Percy zoned out for a moment, following the line of his friend’s throat absentmindedly—the bobbing of his Adam's apple and the curve of his jaw—as Lee tilted his head back, before shaking his head roughly. His cheeks felt warm, but he wasn’t quite sure why—he needed to stop zoning out so much, honestly.

Stupid ADHD—always had him focusing on the oddest things.

“And what would I say when they ask me to explain?” Percy asked, bringing himself back to the matter at hand. “Oh, yeah, sorry, can’t go with you even though that was the plan. Why? I’ve just got major bad vibes about the whole thing and my dreams have been super shitty lately—oh, by the way, I’m actually a prophet and never told you. Haha, surprise, anyways have fun on that super dangerous mission that I’m not going on because of the bad vibes.”

Percy ran a tired hand down his face. “Yeah, that would go over real well, I can see it now.”

Lee sighed, “I don’t know what else to tell you, dude. Maybe if you go you can help prevent the bad thing from happening—”

“Or I can make it happen by going.” Percy laid back on his bed. “Or I cause it to happen by not going. There’s no way to tell until it all plays out. I just…I don’t know. I can’t help but think that…”

“That you shouldn’t go,” Lee finished.

“I don’t have a choice. Grover needs help. I can’t just…not go.”

Lee pursed his lips. “You know, Clarisse has a point about your self-sacrificing tendencies. Don’t save Grover at the expense of yourself.”

Perc lifted his head up and narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his friend. “How often do you and Clarisse discuss my unhealthy tendencies?”

“Often enough that the two of us and Silena are planning an intervention as soon as Clarisse returns from her scouting mission,” Lee grinned.

“Ughhh, spare me,” Percy groaned.

“Promise to put your well-being above your friends and I will.”

Percy dropped his head back on the bed. “I can’t promise that. None of us can, you know that. Nobody’s gonna stand by and let their friends get hurt when they can do something about it.”

“Maybe not. But few people would throw themselves in the line of fire the way you do. Not everybody is willing to risk their life for somebody else.”

“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do it.”

Lee was silent for a long moment.

“It’s not—Perce, you throw yourself in front of other people like you’re bulletproof. You take lethal wounds to stop others from getting a papercut, that’s different.”

Percy couldn’t think of a response to that, and Lee’s face told him he knew he’d won.

“I’ll—I’ll be careful,” Percy said eventually. “I can promise that.”

Lee didn’t look reassured, and Percy could tell his friend knew Percy was keeping something from him.

Percy had told Lee about his vibes regarding the mission, as well as most of the dreams he’d been having. But he hadn’t been able to mention the worst parts.

Percy falling—water below him that he’ll never reach.

Stumbling up a rocky path, bleeding as he forced himself higher and higher.

And then…the worst part. Kneeling, crushed beneath a terrible weight as his bones turned to liquid. Cold—a horrible, horrible cold—spreading through every part of him, eating at the saltwater in his veins.

Percy couldn’t bring himself to talk about those parts of the dreams, couldn’t tell Lee what he was sure would happen if Percy went on this mission.

Lee would tell him not to go. Lee would tell him that Percy’s life was worth more.

Lee would beg him not to go and Percy…Percy couldn’t say no to Lee.

If Lee begged him not to go, Percy wouldn’t go.

And Percy had to go.

Grover had asked for help. Percy couldn’t not help his friend—even if it cost him his life.

So, Percy bit his tongue and kept the worst of his dreams from Lee for the first time since they’d met.

Lee frowned, opening his mouth—almost certainly to ask what Percy was keeping from him—but Percy’s mom knocked on the door before he got a chance to respond.

“Percy?”

Percy looked up as his mom opened the door, her face a mask of badly concealed worry. “Your, ah, friends are here. Oh, hi, Lee.” Sally sent a small wave to the son of Apollo.

“Hi, Ms. Jackson.” Lee sat up. “Guess that means your ride is here.”

Percy gave a heavy sigh and stood up from his bed, grabbing his packed bag from the floor by his feet. “Yep. I’d better go. I’ll see you at camp in a day or two, yeah?”

“You’d better.” Lee waved through the Iris-Message and disappeared. Percy let the mist he’d been using to form the rainbow dissipate.

“Are you all packed and ready?” Percy’s mom asked anxiously.

“Yes, mom. Just like I was the last five times you asked today.” Percy smiled gently as his mom wrung her hands.

“It’ll be fine.” He tried to sound confident, tried to hide the cold dread that had permeated his bones all day. “It’s just a routine pickup for Grover and two new demigods and Grover’s a little worried, that’s all. You know how he is. We’re just going to make sure everything runs smoothly. I’ll…I’ll call you when we make it to camp, okay?”

Percy’s mom looked like she was forcing herself to relax. She ran a hand through his hair and pulled him into a tight hug. “I just worry, sweetheart, it’s a mother’s job. Promise me you’ll call me right when you make it to camp so I know you’re okay.”

“I will, Mom.”

Sally squeezed him tight one last time and then led him into the living room where Annabeth and Thalia were waiting uncomfortably.

“You sure you don’t need anything else before you hit the road? Snacks or anything like that?”

“We’re okay, Ms. Jackson. Just…ready to head out.” Annabeth said, shifting on her feet.

“Right. Well, I’ll let you go.” Percy’s mom kissed him on the head gently and then they were out the door.

“Took you long enough,” Thalia grumbled as she led the way down the street to where the pegasi were waiting.

“Had to reassure my mom I wasn’t going to die,” Percy told her. “She worries.”

Thalia huffed, speeding up until she was too far ahead of Percy for them to continue talking.

“She’s just mad that Chiron assigned both of you to the mission,” Annabeth whispered. “Thinks it’s a waste to put both of you on it when one of you would be perfectly fine.”

“She’s got a point,” Percy murmured. “The only two known children of the Big Three and you put them on the same mission? A simple retrievement mission, at that?”

“Grover made it sound serious,” Annabeth pointed out.

“I’m sure it is, but that still doesn’t explain why Chiron needed both of us to go. He could’ve sent one of us with you and another demigod. Didn’t need to be both.”

Percy wondered if Thalia had the same bad feeling about tonight that he had, or if she just didn’t want to share Annabeth with Percy for the amount of time it would take them to get to Maine and come back.

Percy had hoped at the end of the summer that Thalia would learn to loosen up around Annabeth, but by winter she was still just as possessive over the daughter of Athena as she’d been in the summer.

It was more than a little annoying. Especially as Annabeth seemed to find it amusing—Percy thought she just liked the idea of two of her closest friends fighting over getting to spend time with her because it made her feel wanted, but telling her that was liable to get him smacked so he kept his mouth shut.

The three of them turned the corner and Percy grinned as he spotted the four pegasi they were taking to Maine, three for them and one for Grover—they didn’t feel comfortable letting two new demigods ride by themselves, so they’d decided the two of them would double with Percy and Annabeth on the the way back.

Yo, boss! Where’ve you been, man? It’s not the same without you at camp, nobody gives me sugarcubes anymore.

“Blackjack,” Percy greeted warmly. “Missed you too, buddy. And…nobody gives you any sugarcubes because you like to bite them when they do.”

Damn right, I do! Can’t trust anybody these days. Except for you, boss.

Blackjack tossed his head, and Percy snorted.

“Yeah, yeah. But you can’t complain that nobody gives you treats when you bite them every time they try.”

Percy greeted the other three pegasi, noting that they were all known to be some of the better flyers at camp—a good thing, considering the weather they’d be flying into.

Prince, the tan pegasi that Silena loved most, accepted Thalia on his back with minimal grumbling. The daughter of Zeus didn’t look too pleased about it either, but Maine was too far away for them to reach in time using any other method of transportation, so she gritted her teeth and climbed on.

Annabeth pulled herself up on Guido, a pale gray pegasi that had been trapped on the Princess Andromeda with Blackjack last summer and ended up following him to camp.

Ghost knickered softly at him, pale white coat gleaming in the early afternoon light as she gloated over how nice it’d be to fly unencumbered all the way to Maine.

Percy swung himself onto Blackjack, and they took to the skies. 

Normally, it would take a pegasi a little over an hour to travel from Manhattan to Maine, but they were flying straight through a blizzard and that impeded their flight significantly.

Thus, the pegasi landed in the woods outside Westover Hall right as the sun began setting over the trees.

The place looked like an evil wizard’s castle—all black stone and tall towers and slit windows and a big set of wooden double doors. Annabeth probably could’ve gone on for hours on the specific type of architecture of the place, but Thalia and Percy shared a glance with each other and made a silent agreement not to let her get started.

They had a job to do, and it’d be kind of hard with Annabeth rambling on about arch structures and mortar placement the whole time.

The wind whistled through the trees and blew straight through Percy’s coat like ice daggers, and he could see that the other two felt the same. They needed to get inside or else Grover would be rescuing them from a future of being popsicles.

“You guys stay in the trees, yeah? I’ll whistle when we’re ready for extraction,” Percy said to the four pegasi before ducking out of the trees and jogging up the icy steps.

The oak doors were heavy, forcing Percy to shove his shoulder into them before they groaned open.

Thalia and Annabeth slipped inside first and Percy followed, letting the giant doors slam shut behind them.

Percy would’ve been worried about the noise but he was too busy taking in the entry hall.

The ceiling was high, giving the walls plenty of space to display all sorts of battle flags and weapons—Percy spotted antique rifles, battle axes, even a couple one-handed xiphos like Percy’s own sword.

“Whoa,” he said softly. “Not even the military school I went to was this overboard.”

Annabeth frowned, tearing her eyes away from the dark arches near the ceiling to look over at him. “When did you go to a military school?”

“Couple years back,” Percy shrugged. “Gabe thought it would straighten me out. Three guesses as to how well that worked.”

Annabeth snorted in amusement, but then Thalia cut in with a sharp voice.

“We’re wasting time. Let’s just find Grover and get out of here. Annabeth, you’re up.”

Annabeth slipped her invisibility cap on and disappeared to scout out the hallways and make sure they wouldn’t get intercepted on the way.

Percy focused on his friend’s aura—armor on his shoulders, olives on his tongue, an owl’s wings brushing up against him as pages turned beneath his fingers—trying to track her as she swept down the hall. Lee was better at tracking auras than Percy was, but he’d gotten good enough to do it over relatively short distances.

Annabeth’s aura grew faint until it was just barely in range before quickly growing again.

A few seconds later, Annabeth whipped her hat off right next to them.

“We’re clear for now, but we’d better hurry. Grover mentioned a powerful monster. The longer we’re here the more likely it’ll smell us—or smell the two of you, more like.”

Yet another reason Percy didn’t understand why Chiron had sent both Thalia and Percy on this mission. They were practically guaranteed to draw monsters to them.

Thalia clicked her tongue and led the way down the hall to where they could faintly hear music blaring.

They made it within two steps of the door before heat lanced up Percy’s veins.

It was, unfortunately, a very familiar heat—a heat that generally only ever meant one thing…poison.

Percy’s shoulders tensed and he reached out to grasp the other two right as two adults, a man and a woman, rounded the corner.

They clearly worked at the school, wearing black military-style uniforms with regulation haircuts—they even moved like they were marching in a military parade, all straight spines and pulled back shoulders.

“What are you doing here?” The woman demanded sharply.

Percy was stiff as a board, low heat still racing through him. One of these adults had to be the monster Grover had mentioned, but which one?

“Visitors are now allowed at the dance! You shall be ejected.” The man snapped in an odd accent—French, maybe, but there were undertones of something older.

Percy couldn’t hold back a shudder as the man’s eyes locked onto Percy. His eyes were two different colors—one brown, one blue—and both were full of malice and hunger.

Well, Percy was pretty sure he knew which one of them was the monster. Now, if only he could figure out what kind of monster—and, also, figure out how to tell his friends that they’d already lost their element of surprise.

Thalia stepped forward, putting herself in front of Percy and Annabeth and snapping her fingers loudly. A ripple of magic echoed from the sound and washed over the two adults.

“Oh, but we’re not visitors, sir.” Thalia said smoothly. “We got to school here. You remember: I’m Thalia. And this is Annabeth and Percy.”

Percy nudged Annabeth discreetly with his elbow and leaned down close to her ear. “The dude is the monster Grover mentioned.”

Annabeth’s eyebrows furrowed and she shot a careful glance at the man still speaking with Thalia. “You’re sure?”

“Getting a strong vibe from him, yeah. Pretty sure he’s got some type of poison so keep your distance.”

Annabeth grimaced. “The Mist manipulation won’t work on him, then. He’ll know we’re half-bloods now.”

“Like he didn’t before? He’d be a pretty shitty monster if he didn’t clock Thalia and I as soon as he saw us.”

The door to the gymnasium cracked open and Grover popped out, his eyes wide with relief as he spotted them. “You guys made it! You—”

The satyr stopped cold when he spotted the teachers. “Oh, uh, Mrs. Gottschalk. Dr. Thorn. I, ah—”

“What do you mean, Mr. Underwood?” Dr. Thorn asked. “When you say they made it? These students live here.” It was clear from the monster’s tone that he knew what Grover was and why he was there.

Grover swallowed nervously, flicking his eyes helplessly to the trio of demigods. Percy pushed forward, drawing the monster’s attention to him.

“Grover’s just glad we made it down at all, honestly. It took us so long to get ready, I bet he thought we’d miss the whole thing.”

Dr. Thorn’s lip curled, but the woman spoke up before he could get his mouth open. “You are rather late, I’m not surprised. Now, run along, all of you. And do try to be on time in the future.”

“And take those earrings out, boy. They’re not in regulation.”

Percy’s hands shot up to his ears, covering the golden sun earrings he’d forgotten he was even wearing. He pulled them out of his ears and stuffed them in his pocket quickly under the two adult’s glares.

“Oh, of—of course, sir. My bad, sir.”

Grover practically deflated in relief as the three demigods ducked into the gymnasium. Black and red balloons were scattered all over the gym floor. Kids of all ages congregated on the floor, dancing and talking and messing around.

“That was close,” Grover said. “Quick thinking there, Perce. Oh gods, I’m just so happy you three made it.”

Grover tugged the three of them into one giant group hug. Percy breathed in the light wildflower fragrance from Grover’s aura, the warmth of pure nature chasing away the worst of the cold dread that had followed him all the way to Maine.

“‘s good to see you, G-Man.” Percy said once the satyr let them go. “You look taller.”

Grover blushed lightly, “I do, don’t I? You guys look good, too.”

Thalia grinned, squeezing Grover’s shoulder.

“Let’s get these two demigods and get the hell out of dodge, what d’you say?”

Grover nodded eagerly, looking at Thalia like she had the answers to everything.

“And we should hurry, too. Dr. Thorn definitely knows why we’re here.” Percy said.

“Dr. Thorn?” Thalia asked.

“He’s the monster,” Grover told her. “I haven’t managed to figure out what he is though, yet. Don’t suppose you have any idea?” The satyr looked at Percy hopefully.

“Nope. He’s got some sort of poison though, I could tell that much.”

Thalia furrowed her eyebrows. “How’d you figure that out?”

Grover winced as he realized he’d given up one of Percy’s secrets. Annabeth and Grover had known about Percy’s auras since their first quest, but he’d managed to keep the rest of his abilities firmly under wraps around the two of them.

And he hadn’t told Thalia about any of it—he liked her, he did, but they weren’t nearly close enough for Percy to let her in on any of his big secrets.

Didn’t seem he was going to have much choice, in this case.

“I get vibes sometimes around big monsters and stuff like that. Can help me figure out what I’m dealing with, but not always.” Percy kept his explanation short.

Thalia raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never heard of that.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t exactly broadcast it. Don’t need another thing setting me apart, yeah?”

Thalia’s eyes flickered with understanding. “Got it. My lips are sealed. Now let’s get what we came here for before Dr. Thorn tries to kill us.”

“Right. They’re over there.” Grover nodded discreetly to a pair of younger kids arguing in the bleachers. “A brother and a sister. Ten and twelve. Their names are Bianca and Nico di Angelo. No idea who their parent is, but they’re powerful, I can tell you that.”

Percy breathed sharply out of his nose when he got the two kids’ auras.

Cold, coiling darkness. Shadows wrapping around his limbs and threatening to drag him down.

“You’ve got that right,” Percy said.

“You’re getting a vibe from them?” Annabeth whispered.

“Oh, yeah.”

“What does it feel like? Maybe it’ll tell us who their godly parent is.”

Percy bit his lip. It would definitely narrow down the options. Few gods would have an aura like the one Percy was getting now, and he was certain Annabeth would piece it together if he told her how the di Angelo's felt.

He needed to wait until the di Angelos were safe at camp before he divulged their parentage—Hades was hardly the most popular god around, after all.

“Doesn’t matter, let’s just grab the kids and—”

Percy cut himself off with a curse as Dr. Thorn emerged from the shadows of the bleachers and placed himself within a couple feet of the two siblings. His blue eye gleamed coldly as he stared in their direction.

“Shit. We won’t get anywhere near them with him right there.” Thalia said.

“So, what do we do? I’ve blown up a few too many gyms to fancy starting a fight with him here,” Percy muttered.

“Split up,” Annabeth said. “I’ll put the cap on and slip around, hopefully I’ll be able to convince the kids to come with me while Thorn focuses on you guys.”

“Maybe Grover should talk to the kids,” Percy suggested. “They know him, so they’d be more likely to go with him.”

Grover grimaced. “Hardly. I’ve tried to get close, but they’re pretty reclusive—only really talk to each other. And every time I’ve tried, Thorn shows up and gets in the way.”

“Nevermind, then.” Percy snorted. “Thalia and I can go to separate ends of the gym, hopefully our scents will confuse him, and then you can slip around and snatch the kids from under his nose.”

Plan made, the four of them scattered into the crowds of students. Percy dodged away from a group of squealing girls and found himself lingering on the edges of the crowd.

He cast out his senses carefully, keeping a close eye on his friends and the two children of Hades. It was hard to keep watch on all of them, so Percy leaned up against the wall and closed his eyes to concentrate better.

Thalia was the farthest away from him, but she was the easiest to find. Lightning crackling against his skin and thunder booming in his ear. Grover and Annabeth were more difficult, their auras were subtler, less intense.

Percy focused more on Annabeth since she was the one with the important job, tracking her across the gym and up the bleachers. She seemed to linger there for a second before her aura grew closer to him quickly.

Percy frowned. She hadn’t been speaking to the di Angelos for nearly long enough to convince them to go with her.

“Percy!” Annabeth’s voice hissed in his ear as she whipped off her cap. “They’re gone.”

Percy pushed off the wall. “What do you mean they’re gone?”

“I made it to the bleachers and they just weren’t there. Thorn’s gone too.”

Percy cursed, realizing their mistake. They should’ve made sure one of them always had a line of sight on the two demigods at all times, but they’d scattered to the far ends of the gymnasium without even thinking about it. And Percy had been too focused on tracking Annabeth to pay attention to the di Angelo’s auras.

“Can you find them?”

Percy shut his eyes, pushing away the taste of olives and armor on his shoulders, the lightning and wildflowers from farther out, and searched for the cold, coiling shadows of the di Angelos.

“Got them. They’re outside, moving quickly. I’ll follow, you find the other two and come after me.”

“Percy—”

“No time, I’m about to lose them. Go!”

Percy ducked out of the gymnasium, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he focused entirely on the darkness—on the slow heat of Dr. Thorn that accompanied the shadows.

In less than a minute, Percy found himself back in the entry hall. He breathed a sigh of relief when he spotted the di Angelos huddled by the oak doors. They looked terrified but unhurt, which was good.

Percy took a careful step in their direction, grabbing Riptide out of his pocket and placing his thumb on the cap in preparation for a fight.

“Where did he go?” Percy asked the two kids. He could still feel the heat from Thorn’s aura, but there was no sign of him anywhere in the entry hall. He had to be around somewhere—there was no way he’d just left the demigods.

“It’s alright,” Percy said as he stepped closer. “My name is Percy Jackson. I’m here to help, just tell me where Thorn went.”

Bianca’s eyes flicked up to the ceiling, full of fear and horror, and Percy froze as he put it together.

Percy looked up just in time for Thorn to leap down from the ceiling and slam him into the ground. Percy’s head banged into the stone floor as he uncapped Riptide and slashed at the monster, who backed away.

The di Angelos screamed, huddling closer to the door, and Percy turned his head in their direction as he leapt to his feet.

“Go! Run!”

Thorn whipped around to the di Angelos and Percy lunged in between them, brandishing Riptide.

“Go, now!” He yelled to the cowering kids behind him. “Head for the woods!”

Thorn snarled as the door creaked open and the children of Hades slipped out into the winter air. Percy settled into a defensive stance. He didn’t need to beat Thorn on his own, his friends would arrive soon enough, he just needed to stall long enough for them to reach him.

Dr. Thorn curled his lip, his teeth sharpening into points as his skin faded into a ghoulish white.

“Perseus Jackson. I know all about you. And you are oh so predictable.” Something whipped through the air behind Thorn. Percy dodged but he was too late.

Pain exploded in his shoulder and he went flying back into the doors. Heat spread through his veins from where he’d been hit—poison.

Percy lashed out with Riptide, but Thorn stayed just out of range. Percy tried to move forward but he was pinned to the wall by some kind of spike—a black projectile almost a foot long that gleamed with a sickly sort of light.

Blood dripped from the scratch, darkening his shirt. 

“This was a new shirt, dude.” Percy couldn’t help complaining.

Dr. Thorn chuckled coldly. “I will come back for you later, Perseus Jackson. For now, I must track down those pesky children you sent running into the woods.”

The monster lashed out with a hand and sent Percy careening into the wall with a crash. By the time Percy got to his feet, Thorn was already out the door.

“Fucking—” Percy cursed and sprinted out into the freezing night after him.

He took half a second to drop one of his earrings from earlier in the doorway, hoping the others would find it and know to search outside.

He cast his senses out desperately, searching for the coiling shadows of the di Angelos. As soon as he got a lock, Percy was racing through the snow, ignoring the chilling wind that cut through his ripped clothes like they were made of paper.

Percy ran along a snowy path barely illuminated by old-fashioned lamp-lights, growing closer to the children of Hades.

His heart stopped in his chest when he emerged into a clearing—a clearing he recognized.

This was the snowy cliff from his dreams.

The di Angelos cowered at the edge as Thorn approached them menacingly. Percy moved faster than he’d ever moved before, placing himself in between the children of Hades and Dr. Thorn right as the monster reached them.

Riptide flashed in the low light as Percy brandished it. Thorn snarled lowly, his eyes gleaming with inhuman hunger.

“Lower your weapon, son of Poseidon. You cannot beat me, you will only make things worse for yourself and your companions.”

Percy’s shoulder was burning, but he lifted Riptide higher.

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

A small hand gripped the back of Percy’s coat, and he glanced down to catch the wide eyes of Nico di Angelo. The kid looked scared out of his wits, pressing close to Percy’s back like he really believed Percy could protect him.

Percy clenched his jaw and turned back to the monster in front of him. He couldn’t let the kid down. He had to protect them.

The sea churned far below him. Too far of a drop for the di Angelos, but maybe Percy could protect them.

Maybe that was what his dream was about—why he was always falling.

Except…Percy never hit the water in his dreams. The scene always changed before he made it to the sea.

Dr. Thorn caught Percy’s contemplative glance back over the edge of the cliff, laughing cruelly. “Oh, by all means, Perseus Jackson, save yourself. The sea would protect you, surely. But would it protect those two? Or would you leave them here to my mercy?”

Bianca whimpered, Nico flinching back slightly.

“Not a chance,” Percy snarled.

“I would kill you before you ever reached the water, you know.” Thorn said conversationally. “You have no chance.”

Percy bared his teeth as another flicker of movement came from behind the monster. A missile like the one that had hit Percy back in the entry hall flew so close to him that it nicked his ear. The attack gave Percy his first glimpse of Thorn’s weapon—it almost seemed like a catapult, but more flexible…like a tail. It was leathery and scorpionlike, bristling with spikes at the tip.

Percy frowned, trying to piece together what sort of monster this was.

What monster had a tail like that—and one that could discharge poisonous spikes at that?

“Unfortunately,” Thorn said, “I have express orders to take you alive. Otherwise I would have already killed you all.”

Shit. This was bad. Percy, and the others, had been operating under the assumption that Thorn was working independently—most monsters did.

But if he was actually working under orders…

Percy’s blood ran cold. “You’re working for Luke.”

Thorn’s mouth twisted with distaste at the name, but Biance piped up from behind before he could get a word out.

“Who? Why would anybody want us? If you’re thinking you can get some sort of ransom, you’re wrong. Nico and I—we don’t have anyone else. Just each other.”

Percy’s heart panged at the obvious sadness in her voice.

“Not to worry, little brats. I will take you to meet my employer. Then you will have a brand-new family.”

“They’re not going anywhere with you,” Percy said.

Thorn laughed coldly. “You think you can stop me? I was told you were quite gifted, boy, and yet still you seem blind as to what is happening. I will let the General enlighten you. You are going to do him a great service tonight. He is quite eager to meet you, in particular, Perseus Jackson.”

A chill completely unrelated to the piercing wind ran up Percy’s spine. “The General? But that’s…”

Thorn could only be talking about one person. The general of the Titan army in the first Titanomachy—the Titan Atlas.

One of the most powerful Titans in existence, cursed to forever hold the sky on his shoulders.

Why would Thorn be taking Percy and the others to Atlas? How could Atlas be commanding monsters if he was still trapped under his burden?

“Ah, your transportation approaches.” Thorn’s voice drew Percy out of his thoughts.

He risked a glance over his shoulder, catching sight of a light in the distance. The sound of helicopter blades whirring through the air reached his ears.

“Mortals?” Percy muttered to himself. “You’re using mortals?” Percy asked the monster.

That was certainly out of the ordinary. Monsters rarely ever drew mortals into their schemes.

“Mortals?” Bianca whispered in confusion. “What…”

“Where are you taking us?” Nico peeked out from around Percy’s arm, still gripping his shirt tightly.

“To meet the General. You should be honored, my boy. You are being given a great opportunity. You will do so much more than play that silly little game with cards and dolls.”

“They’re not dolls!” Nico puffed up, his fear seeming to have slipped away in the wake of his anger. “They’re figurines! And you can take your great opportunity and—”

“Watch it, boy,” Thorn warned. “You will change your mind, I’m sure. And if you do not, well…there are other uses for your kind. Many have joined our cause and they are very hungry.”

Thorn bared his pointed teeth, hunger lighting up his blue and brown eyes.

“Monsters that have not been seen in millenia are stirring. The worst of them, the most powerful—they flock to us, seeking death and destruction the likes of which mortals have never known. And soon we shall have the most important monster of all—the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus!” Thorn threw his head back in maniacal laughter.

“This dude’s completely nuts,” Bianca whispered to Percy.

“Oh, definitely. Completely off his rocker.”

“Please tell me you have a plan.”

Percy paused, tilting his head to the side. The coiling darkness of the di Angelos still wrapped around his limbs, but there was something else there.

Pages under his fingertips, olives on his tongue. Lightning crackling over his arms  and the scent of wildflowers on the breeze.

Percy let a small grin flicker across his face. 

“I think you’re forgetting something rather important, dude.” Percy said to the cackling monster.

Thorn stopped, leveling Percy with a cruel grin. “And what would that be, boy?”

“I’m not here alone.”

Thorn’s grin dropped right as a strike of lightning caught him directly in the chest.

An invisible force slammed into Percy and the di Angelos, knocking them straight to the ground.

Thorn roared, but Thalia’s strike had caught him off guard, and his first volley of poisonous missiles sailed straight over their heads.

Thalia appeared out of the trees, advancing with her magic shield, Aegis, held high.

Dr. Thorn couldn’t contain his wince at the horrible face of Medusa that was welded into the bronze metal, and Thalia took the opportunity to thrust at the monster’s head with her spear with a yelled battle cry.

Annabeth appeared next to Percy and the di Angelos, pulling him to his feet. The two of them dragged the kids further away from the cliff and the ensuing battle.

“Took you long enough,” Percy grumbled.

“Not our fault you went off on your own and disappeared. We followed as fast as we could.”

The helicopter drew closer, sweeping a spotlight over the cliffside, but Percy didn’t risk another glance over the water.

He raced into the fight next to Annabeth, leaving the di Angelos huddled at the edge of the woods.

“A manticore,” Annabeth gasped as Thalia was knocked off her feet by a volley of missiles straight to her shield. Grover sprang forward immediately, playing a frantic jig on his reed pipes that had thick weeds wrapping around Thorn’s legs and entangling him.

A manticore. They had a human face with the body of a lion, and a scorpionlike tail that could discharge poisonous thorns at will.

Percy should’ve figured that out, honestly, but he was going to blame the stupid poison still coursing through his veins—yeah, that was a reasonable excuse, he’d use that.

Thorn roared, clawing Grover’s magic weeds to shreds and turning to face Percy and Annabeth as they approached.

“Get down!” Annabeth flung herself to the side. 

Percy didn’t dodge, hitting the button on the side of his wristwatch instead. Metal plating spiraled out into a thick bronze shield—a gift from Tyson before Percy’s brother had left for the underwater forges at the request of Poseidon.

Percy curled behind the shield without a moment to spare. Thorns slammed into the shield with such force they dented the metal.

Percy almost growled as he took in the damage. It was practically ruined—too badly damaged to stop a second volley, that was for sure.

There was a loud thwack followed by a yelp, and Grover landed in the snow next to Percy with a thud.

Percy pulled his friend up, raising Riptide and advancing forward.

“Yield!” The manticore snarled.

“Never!” Thalia responded, rushing in from the side and charging the monster.

For a second, Percy thought the daughter of Zeus would manage it, but just then a blaze of light appeared from the edge of the cliff.

The helicopter manifested out of the mist and hovered just beyond the cliffs—Percy spotted more than a few machine guns attached to the side trained on the demigods.

Shit.

The searchlights blinded Thalia enough that Thorn hit her flat in the chest with his tail and sent her flying.

Her shield and spear fell out of her reach, and Percy lunged forward right as Dr. Thorn sent another spike whistling her way.

He parried away the spike, raising his dented shield over the both of them.

It wouldn’t be enough. They were trapped.

“Do you see now, little heroes? How hopeless it is? Yield now, and you will suffer less.”

Percy growled, but then a noise reached his ears—a clear, piercing noise. The call of a hunting horn.

Moonlight danced across Percy’s eyelids. The fletching of an arrow touched his cheek and fur brushed up against his legs. Wolves howled in the distance, snarling lowly just out of sight.

Percy grinned. He knew enough to recognize that those sensations—coupled with the hunting horn—could mean only one thing.

Thorn seemed to come to the same conclusion, freezing in place.

“No, it cannot be—”

The manticore’s sentence was cut short when something silver streaked through the air. A glowing arrow sprouted from Dr. Thorn’s shoulder and sent him stumbling back with a howl.

He lashed out wildly with his tail, catching Percy in the chest and sending him slamming into the snow.

“Curse you!” Thorn cried. He sent dozens of spikes whistling into the woods, but they were intercepted in midair by the same silver arrows from before.

Percy couldn’t stop himself from raising his eyebrows—not even the best of Apollo’s archers had that kind of accuracy.

“The Hunters,” Percy murmured to himself, still breathless from the hit.

“Oh, wonderful.” Thalia muttered from next to him, stumbling to her feet. “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse.”

Percy snorted, watching as a little over a dozen girls emerged from the woods. They were wearing shining, silver hunting gear and armed with bows and hunting daggers.

Percy’s eyes caught on one girl in particular. She looked no older than thirteen, but her eyes gleamed like liquid moonlight. Auburn hair was pulled back from her face in a braided ponytail. 

There was no doubt as to who she was.

The goddess Artemis.

Artemis’s eyes flicked over the scattered demigods, pausing on Percy’s dazed form.

For a moment, Percy was confused as to why she was so focused on him, but then he recalled what Apollo had said months ago when the god had given Percy a minor blessing to help him handle his visions.

Apollo had told him that Artemis would most likely notice the blessing if they were ever in the same vicinity, simply because the two twins were more attuned to each other than the rest of the gods.

Artemis narrowed her eyes at him before understanding seemed to hit her. A considering look flashed across her face and then she turned back to the roaring manticore.

“Permission to kill, my lady?” One of the older hunters stepped forward with her bow drawn. A silver circlet was braided into the top of her dark hair—the Lieutenant of the Hunters and former Hesperide, Zoë Nightshade.

“This is not fair!” Thorn snarled. “Direct interference is against the Ancient Laws.”

“Not so,” Artemis said gracefully. “The hunting of all wild beasts is within my sphere. And you, foul creature, are a wild beast. Permission granted, Zoë.”

Thorn’s eyes gleamed with desperation. “I will not fail! If I cannot have them all I will take what I can get!”

Percy scrambled to his feet right as the manticore lunged—not for Percy, but for Thalia. The daughter of Zeus was still struggling to get to her feet, clutching her ribs tightly.

She didn’t see the attack coming, but Percy did.

Percy pushed himself in between them in the nick of time, landing a deep scratch across the length of Thorn’s face.

The manticore didn’t even pause, brushing off the injury like it was nothing. A wicked grin stretched across his face, satisfaction shining deep in his eyes.

As if he’d expected Percy’s move.

As if he’d planned on it.

Percy got the feeling he’d played right into Thorn’s hands.

“Got you,” Dr. Thorn growled. He wrapped a giant feline paw around Percy’s throat, digging in sharply, and pulled. Percy’s friends yelled out, and Percy clutched at the claws piercing his skin.

A cluster of silver arrows caught Thorn in the chest and neck, but the monster was already moving backwards.

Thorn’s feet hit the edge of the cliff, and Percy’s eyes widened as he realized what was about to follow.

“This is not the end, Huntress! You shall pay!”

Percy tried to dig his feet in but Thorn’s grip was too tight.

The manticore pulled him off the edge of the cliff and sent them both free-falling towards the sea far below.

Percy kicked out, trying to dislodge Thorn’s paw from around his throat. If he could get free, he’d be okay.

The water—

Cold darkness enveloped him, and Percy knew he’d never hit the water.

Chapter Text

Percy came back to himself on cold dirt. Sharp rocks dug into his back painfully.

Percy rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself up on his hands and knees with a low groan.

Where…what happened?

Percy didn’t—his mind was too scrambled. He didn’t know where he was.

Percy struggled to his feet, his knees buckling for a moment before holding his weight.

Percy glanced around him, trying to figure out where he’d ended up. Somehow, the dark mountainside he was currently on didn’t seem correct.

He didn’t think…he’d been on a cliff, hadn’t he?

Percy stumbled a few steps up the hill but stopped dead when his memories pieced back together.

Immediately, he reached for the pen in his pocket and uncapped Riptide. The bronze sword gleamed in the darkness, but even Anaklusmos couldn’t give much light to the oppressive shadows.

Percy cast out his senses carefully, but he couldn’t feel anything. There was no poisonous heat in his veins—aside from the actual physical poison coursing through him from the spike he’d been hit with—to indicate Thorn’s presence. No lightning, no olives, no wildflowers.

No moonlight.

Wherever Percy had ended up, he got the feeling he was far away from anyone who could help him.

A thick fog shrouded everything in darkness. Percy turned in a slow circle, trying to determine which way to go. 

He couldn’t sense anything at either end of the rocky path, but…something told him he could only go up. He couldn’t explain it—even to himself—but he knew that he couldn’t go down the path.

It wouldn’t let him leave. 

A strange malevolence cast its shadow over the entire hillside, drawing Percy in.

He couldn’t go down.

He would have to go up.

Percy began the trek up the mountainous hillside, taking a moment to appraise himself as he went.

The shoulder that had been nicked by Dr. Thorn’s missile had a deep scratch. The wound had a sickly greenish hue, likely from the poison. He poked at his neck gingerly, hissing at the sting. Thorn’s claws had dug in deeply when Percy had been dragged over the cliffside, but thankfully the puncture marks seemed superficial.

Percy’s limbs were scattered with tiny scratches—from his impact with the rocky ground, Percy guessed.

He still wasn’t sure how he’d gotten here. Why…why had Thorn brought him all the way here and then just…left?

Percy struggled up the hill, his muscles aching at the exertion.

Was it still the same night as the mission to Westover Hall? What had happened to Percy’s friends? 

Lady Artemis would look out for them, surely. Dislike of boys or not, she wouldn’t abandon children in need.

But what would they tell the others at camp? Did they—did they think Percy was dead?

Percy tripped over a large rock and crashed to the ground. He turned to look at what had caused his fall and paused.

He hadn’t tripped over any ordinary rock, but a piece of an ancient Greek column made of black marble.

Percy cast a glance over his surroundings—what little he could see through the dense fog—and saw more columns like the one that had tripped him up.

He was walking through the ruins of a great palace. A palace that had been reduced to rubble in a great battle.

Percy knelt, running a careful hand over the column at his feet.

Instantly, a vision of the palace in its prime superimposed itself over the ruins. It was terrible and beautiful all at once, made entirely of a black marble that radiated power and fear. Tall towers reached like greedy fingers to the sky, grasping for more—taking more, taking everything.

The home of the Titans at the height of their power.

Percy was kneeling in the ruins of Mount Othrys, the stronghold of the Titans. The Olympians had destroyed the palace to nothing in the first Titanomachy, and yet here Percy was kneeling in the broken remains.

Annabeth had mentioned once that Mount Othrys existed on the edge of civilization, moving just like Olympus did, forever immortalized as the forgotten remnants of the Titan’s Golden Age.

It could only mean bad things that Thorn had left Percy in the ruins of Mount Othrys.

He didn’t want to keep going, but he had no choice.

Percy pushed himself up and forced his feet to take him further up the mountain.

Percy stumbled over the crest of the hill, palms bloody from catching him every time he hit the ground. 

He stopped dead when he caught sight of what awaited him.

A lone figure lay crumpled on the rocky ground, trying in vain to push himself to his knees. A horrible darkness rested on his back, swirling hungrily.

A face stared back at him, twisted in fear and pain.

And Percy…Percy knew that face.

“Chris,” Percy said, already moving forward desperately.

Chris Rodriguez had been Percy’s first real friend at camp, back when Percy was just another unclaimed demigod in the Hermes cabin.

Chris had been unclaimed too, even though anyone with eyes could tell he was one of Hermes’s own kids. When Percy had been claimed by Poseidon, Chris had avoided him the same as all the rest of the campers but, unlike the others, Chris hadn’t come around by the last time Percy saw him.

Percy had spent months agonizing over the loss of Chris’s friendship, and had returned to camp determined to rebuild their bond, only to find that Chris hadn’t returned to camp.

Percy had feared the worst—that Chris had been killed over the year.

But…but now Chris was here. And he was in pain.

“Percy,” Chris gasped. His arms were trembling with the effort to keep himself from collapsing entirely. “Please, help me.”

“Chris, you’re here, you’re—what’s…”

Percy fell to his knees next to his old friend and finally caught a good look at the mass of darkness pressing him down.

That…that was the sky. Why was Chris holding the sky? Where was Atlas?

“What happened? How did you get here? Where’s Atlas?” Percy whispered urgently, reaching a careful hand out but dropping it before he could make contact with Chris.

The sky could only be taken willingly—by anyone except Atlas, that is, as part of his curse. That meant that Chris had to have stepped under the sky of his own free will, but why?

“Chris…”

“Luke—he promised…he said—but he left me here. Please, Percy, please. It’s killing me, I can’t—”

Chris’s voice was strained, heavy with pain and terror, and Percy could never ignore a friend in need.

The weight of the sky was killing Chris. Percy couldn’t just stand by and let it.

He couldn’t—Chris might’ve been working with Luke, but he’d still been Percy’s friend once.

Percy ducked under the mass of swirling darkness next to Chris, kneeling on one knee and raising his shoulders to share the burden with his friend.

The pain was immediate. Percy’s bones turned to liquid, his shoulders curling in on themselves as the weight bore down on him.

Chris groaned in relief, collapsing onto his stomach.

Percy didn’t even have time to blink before the demigod was rolling out from under the sky, leaving Percy to bear the burden alone.

“Chris—what…” Percy could barely speak. The sky above him was crushing him, he couldn’t—

It was too much. He couldn’t do it alone. Why had Chris…

“How predictable.”

Luke Castellan crouched down in front of Percy, smiling coldly in dim light.

Percy’s hands shot out, pressing against the cold stone beneath him as his spine curved. “What?” His voice was weak, trembling already from the strain.

“Please, help me, Percy. It’s killing me. Please,” Luke mocked. “That’s all it took, and you folded like a piece of paper. Predictable. Pathetic.”

“You—you tricked me,” Percy gasped out. Chris stumbled to his feet, a faint look of guilt flashing across his face before his expression smoothed out.

“It’s nothing personal, Perce. You won’t have to hold it forever, don’t worry. We just…needed you under the sky, and you wouldn’t take it for anyone else.”

Percy groaned, low and deep in his chest. His bones were compressing together.

Luke stood up, wrapping an arm around Chris’s shoulders. “You did good, kid. I’m real proud of you.”

Luke turned, leading Chris away from where Percy knelt under the sky.

“Please,” Percy called out. “You can’t—don’t leave me here…I can’t take it, please—”

“You can,” Luke said. “And you will. Like Chris said, you won’t be holding it forever. Someone will be here to relieve you, you just have to survive until then. Good luck.”

Chris glanced back one last time, something sad hidden deep in his eyes, before the two demigods disappeared into the rubble.

Percy was alone.

The weight above him tried to drive him into the rocks beneath him. Percy’s muscles were burning, his bones liquifying.

Every part of him was screaming in agony, but the only thing that left Percy’s mouth was a pained moan.

Percy’s vision turned fuzzy at the edges, blurring with tears and sweat.

He couldn’t—it hurt. Percy was being crushed, his limbs trembling with the effort of keeping himself upright.

It was too much.

Percy couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t—

Percy flung his mind out of his body, searching for the cool numbness that accompanied the moments of nothingness. Lee—Lee didn’t like it when Percy floated like this, when his consciousness left his body.

It worried Lee to see Percy so absent, so…not there.

So, Percy tried not to do it—tried to root himself firmly in his own skin, something that felt impossibly hard some days—tried to keep himself in the present.

But now…now, Percy intentionally flung himself out of his physical body. He needed the numbness, the nothingness, that came with the floating, or else he would compress into little more than ash and dust under the weight of the sky.

The world faded around him. The pain disappeared with it, bringing a blissful numbness.

Percy opened his eyes to a moonlit clearing. A crowd of young girls in silver hunting gear broke down a circle of tents, snuffing out smoldering fires and slinging bows over their shoulders.

Percy’s friends were clustered in a circle, looking more depressed than Percy had ever seen them. Thalia was scowling at the snowy ground, arms crossed over her chest.

Percy brought himself closer, surprised to see a single frozen tear track down her cheek.

Annabeth’s shoulders were shaking with repressed sobs, wiping her face as she tried to appear unaffected. Grover didn’t even bother trying, huddling with the rest and crying inconsolably.

Bianca was nowhere to be found.

Only Nico di Angelo seemed energetic, hopping around the other demigods and peppering them with excited questions.

Thalia looked up with a snarl when Nico made the mistake of asking what had happened to the cool guy that fell off the cliff—Percy tried not to feel pleased that he got referred to as ‘the cool guy’—and why, if Thalia was the daughter of the King of the Gods, she hadn’t been able to handle one monster, but the goddess Artemis joined the depressed huddle before the daughter of Zeus got the chance to turn Nico di Angelo into fried chicken.

“My brother shall be here shortly. He’ll give you and my hunters a ride to camp.”

The demigods responded with vague grumbles and sniffs, and Artemis’s cold visage softened slightly as she took in Annabeth’s pale face.

“I am sorry about the loss of your friend. He was…brave, for a boy. To throw oneself in front of an injured friend is no easy task.”

Thalia’s face twisted painfully and she turned her face away.

“He’s not dead,” Annabeth burst out. “He—there’s water at the bottom of the cliff, he would’ve survived that fall. He’s…he’s survived falls like that before, there’s no way…he’s still alive. He has to be.”

The daughter of Athena opened her clenched hands, and Percy spotted a gleam of gold resting on her palm. Oh. Annabeth must’ve picked up the sun earring Percy had dropped before following Thorn into the woods. 

She caressed the sun pendant softly, sniffling lightly as she seemingly held back a fresh wave of tears.

A burst of light appeared on the horizon, stopping any of the group from responding to Annabeth’s declaration.

“Don’t look,” Artemis advised. “Wait for him to park.”

Percy turned, glad that his lack of physical form meant that he didn’t have to worry about accidentally blinding himself.

A bright, cherry red convertible touched down in the clearing, melting the snow around it as it glowed brightly.

A familiar teen hopped out of the car, his face unusually solemn.

Apollo.

“Little sister,” Apollo called out, aiming for cheerful and falling short by a mile—at least to Percy, who had met the god enough times in dreams to know when he was actually happy. He wondered what had the god so out of sorts. He’d never seen him so gloomy. “I’m glad you called. I was getting worried!”

Artemis sighed, “I’m fine, Apollo. And I am not your little sister.”

“Hey, I was born first.”

“We’re twins,” Artemis rolled her eyes. “How many millenia do we have to—”

“So, what’s up?” Apollo interrupted. “You never call these days without a reason. You need something, little sis?”

Artemis grit her teeth. “A favor. I need to do some solo hunting. I need you to take my hunters to Camp Half-Blood along with these demigods—some of Chiron’s campers.”

Apollo cast his gaze carefully over the assembled demigods.

“Sure thing, sis. Was just about to roll anyways, they can hitch a ride.”

Apollo clicked his keys and the convertible morphed into a shuttle bus.

“Alright. Everybody all aboard the Sun Chariot Express.” Apollo gestured grandly to the bus, but Percy could see that his heart wasn’t in it.

What could’ve put Apollo in such a mood? Percy hoped the god’s kids were all okay.

The Hunters loaded themselves onto the bus, and Percy was startled to see Bianca di Angelo following after them in the same silver hunting gear as the rest of the Hunters. 

Oh. She must’ve decided to join the Hunters instead of living at camp.

Nico wilted a bit as his sister hopped on board without sparing him a glance, but joined the rest of the demigods when they filed onto the bus as well.

Apollo hesitated by his twin for a moment.

“I am…sorry,” Artemis murmured softly once the others were out of earshot. “About the boy. Your prophet, yes?”

Apollo tensed, and Percy drew closer as he realized that he was what had Apollo in such a mood.

“A good one. A good kid.” 

“He may not be dead,” Artemis consoled. “I will search for him while I’m hunting the beast.”

“He’s not dead,” Apollo said firmly. “I would know if my prophet had been killed. Percy Jackson lives, though I cannot say…”

The sun god trailed off, shoulders stiffening suddenly. His head shot over to where Percy’s consciousness was lingering just within earshot.

Blue eyes locked onto Percy’s form.

Apollo opened his mouth to speak to Percy, but before he could Percy was pulled roughly back into his body.

Pain crashed back into him like a freight train as his consciousness slammed back into his bones.

Percy groaned, the sound low and deep in his chest. The mountain flickered back into existence around him, allowing him to see through tinted vision the monster of a man that crouched in front of him.

Light brown skin peeked out of the sleeves of an expensive, sleek brown suit. Stone gray eyes locked onto Percy’s own.

Percy recognized him instantly. It would’ve been impossible not to—even with how out of it Percy was. He’d had visions of this man fighting in the first Titanomachy, tearing through enemies like they were nothing.

Atlas smiled coldly at him, his face all brutal lines and deadly pride.

“My, my, you are something, aren’t you? I wondered…when my uncle mentioned you—the little prophet,” Atlas reached out a gigantic hand that looked like it could snap Percy in half with no problem and brushed it against Percy’s cheek.

He jerked away and Atlas dropped his hand with a chuckle.

“But you fell into the trap perfectly. Never even saw it coming, did you?” Atlas tilted his head at Percy’s confused noise. “You were always the target, Perseus Jackson.”

But why…

Why Percy?

He understood they wanted him for his visions, but then why put him under the sky?

“You will see soon,” Atlas said. “For now, focus on not letting my old burden crush you. Your replacement will be here soon, drawn in helplessly by your struggle. Hopefully, he makes it before you succumb to the strain.” 

The Titan chuckled cruelly and stood, leaving Percy struggling alone under the weight of the sky once more.

Replacement?

Luke had mentioned that too, had said that Percy would be relieved soon.

But by who?

Who was the he Atlas had told him about?

Percy’s arms trembled, almost buckling under the pressure before he forced them to straighten.

Percy was…Percy was just the bait.

He’d been tricked here for the express purpose of drawing someone else in, that much was obvious.

But who? Who was important enough to warrant a trap like this? Who was Percy important enough to to fall for it?

By the gods, Percy couldn’t do this.

He couldn’t—it was too much.

He couldn’t think. It had to be obvious who Percy was acting as bait for, but he just couldn’t—his mind was turning to mush.

His spine was welding itself together, his muscles screaming from the effort it was taking to keep himself from snapping in half like a glowstick.

A strange chill began spreading from his shoulders—emanating from the point the sky touched down on Percy’s back.

It felt nice at first, chasing away the heat from his exertion and soothing his burning muscles.

But then it spread further. It creeped down his spine and encased his limbs in ice.

Percy’s shoulders curled, still being crushed under the pressure despite the chill radiating through his muscles.

The cold seeped into his skin, and Percy let out a low keening noise.

The chill bled into his veins, eating at the saltwater that made up Percy’s blood.

Percy was being frozen from the inside out and it was—it was too much.

He couldn’t…he was so cold.

It was eating him alive, freezing out the ocean in his DNA and replacing it with ice.

Percy trembled, the combination of the horrible chill and the physical exertion pushing him past his limits.

He couldn’t do this any longer. He needed—he was dying—someone had to help him, please.

Percy couldn’t—it wasn’t a good idea, but he threw his consciousness back out of his body in an effort to avoid the pain. Lee would give him a disappointed stare and an hour-long lecture, but Percy couldn’t handle it any longer. 

If he stayed in his body one second longer he wouldn’t be around for Lee to lecture.

Dense woods formed around him, allowing him to catch a glimpse of the goddess Artemis racing through the woods. Every few seconds she stopped and examined the ground carefully—tracking something.

Thorn? Or the beast the manticore had mentioned? The most important monster of all—the one destined to bring about the downfall of Olympus.

Percy had no idea what monster Thorn had been talking about, but surely Artemis would be interested in tracking it down—whatever it was.

Artemis paused in her pursuit, tilting her head in Percy’s direction curiously. Her eyes flitted over the woods where he was standing, but she didn’t seem to be able to see him when he was in this state like Apollo could.

Almost as if thinking of the sun god had drawn Percy to him, Percy’s surroundings changed. Apollo raced across a desert, sun beating down on his form and giving him an unearthly glow.

The god was light on his feet, eating up the miles as he leaped like a gazelle through a dead wasteland.

His blue eyes were darker than Percy had ever seen him, focused intensely on the distant skyline.

Apollo tensed the same way he had earlier, whipping his head around in the direction of Percy’s consciousness.

“Percy,” Apollo said, relief and concern tempering his voice in equal part. “What—how…where are you?”

“Holding up the sky,” Percy said.

Apollo’s tan visage lost all color. “But Atlas—”

“Is free,” Percy finished. “I didn’t—I can’t hold it for much longer. It’s killing me, I think. But you have to listen, Apollo, they have a plan. I’m just the—”

Percy was pulled abruptly back into his body before he could finish his warning.

Bait. 

Percy was the bait.

Percy gave a low groan, sucking air through trembling lips into his frozen lungs.

The cold from before had—somehow, impossibly—spread. It was welding itself onto his bones, seeping through his muscles until he was nothing but ice.

Percy tried to reach for the saltwater in his veins—the sea had always protected him before, why wasn’t it—

“...Percy…doesn’t look…much longer…”

Chris’s voice filtered in and out.

A blurry face appeared in Percy’s range of vision, a hand reaching out to press a gentle palm to his forehead.

Percy keened at the warmth the palm provided, if only for the few seconds of contact before Chris withdrew his hand.

“Don’t have…little longer,” Chris whispered, though Percy only caught half of his sentence, his back curving under the strain.

“I can’t—help me, please.” Percy could barely force the words out of numb lips. Chris’s dark eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion. He opened his mouth to respond before he was pulled back abruptly.

Luke Castellan crouched down in his place, observing Percy’s state with a cold detachment. How had Luke—Percy had trusted him once, had called him a friend—maybe even a brother—and yet now Luke could watch him suffer under the sky and not care at all.

Rage flickered through him at the sight of his old friend, temporarily driving back the aching cold. The world settled back into focus around him.

“Hmmm,” Luke hummed contemplatively. “You’re right. He’s fading fast. A shame, really. I had hoped he would be able to survive the strain. My lord has such great plans for his little prophet, but…we can adjust, if he perishes here. And the trap has already been laid. The General has gone out to see it through. He’ll return shortly with the prize, and Percy will be relieved of the burden,” Luke ran a hand down Percy’s cheek in a cruel facsimile of comfort.

Percy ignored the warmth it gave him—ignored the way it chased out the freezing chill in his blood—and snapped at Luke’s fingers with his teeth. Luke yanked his hand back just in time to avoid losing a finger, chuckling harshly.

“He’s still got some fight left. Who knows, maybe he’ll even live through the night.”

Luke stood up, dragging a reluctant looking Chris away by the arm and leaving Percy kneeling alone under the sky.

The world blackened around the edges again, and Percy dug his fingers into the rocky ground in an effort to keep his elbows locked.

Percy let out a low moan when his foot slipped, sending him from one knee down to two. His arms buckled, just barely keeping him from collapsing entirely.

He didn’t have the strength to attempt shifting his weight—stuck on his hands and knees with the crushing weight driving him closer and closer to the stone beneath him with every stuttering breath.

He was so—so cold. He couldn’t even remember what it was like to be warm—the chill consumed every part of him.

Percy reached out desperately to the ocean in his blood—the ocean always protected him, always saved him—maybe it could—

Percy groaned, deep in his throat, as he pulled on the sea that existed in every piece of him. The cold lashed out violently, pushing back at the saltwater Percy called forth in his veins.

It wasn’t—it wasn’t working…it was making it worse. 

The cold washed over the ocean, eating at the saltwater and replacing it with nothing but ice.

By the gods, it hurt. 

It felt like the chill was sweeping in and rewriting his very DNA—erasing the ocean in his blood, making him something else.

No, no.

Percy was the son of Poseidon. He was of the sea, he would not be—he would not let this cold steal the ocean from his bones.

Percy was barely hanging on, barely conscious, when a commotion erupted at the edge of his vision.

Luke stepped out of the darkness he’d disappeared into earlier right as another figure was shoved into the dim light.

No.

Percy felt a rush of horror as he recognized the ruffled, chained teen that stumbled forward.

“Our guest of honor has arrived,” Atlas said, appearing behind the chained figure.

Apollo.

The god of the sun was bleeding ichor, the golden blood of the gods. His clothing was in tatters around him, showcasing the numerous scratches that littered his body.

Apollo was bound, hands and feet, by glowing celestial bronze chains.

No. No. Percy had—Percy had been the bait for Apollo.

Of course.

The sun god glanced over at where Percy trembled under the mass of darkness above him and his blue eyes blazed with anger.

“Only you, Atlas.” Apollo’s voice shook with rage. “Only you would place a child of the sea under the sky. Surely you know—”

“He has weathered the burden well, so far. But he has little time left. What will you do?” Atlas smiled, cold amusement gleaming in his stone gray eyes.

“He will die soon. Take the burden from him, and he may yet live through the night,” Luke said.

Percy made a strangled noise of protest that had Apollo locking eyes with him.

Don’t, Percy tried to say, but he couldn’t make his mouth form the word. Percy wasn’t worth this—Apollo had been captured trying to help him. They were trying to force the god to carry the burden to save Percy. Apollo couldn’t—

Something unreadable flashed through Apollo’s eyes and he turned back to Luke.

“Free my hands.”

Luke’s sword flashed through the air, shattering the bronze chains around Apollo’s wrists.

In an instant, the god was kneeling next to Percy’s shaking form. Apollo ducked under the sky, taking the burden from Percy’s shoulders without an ounce of hesitation.

As soon as the crushing weight left him, Percy collapsed onto his side, his limbs unable to support him for a moment longer.

The pain lessened, but his muscles still trembled from how far he’d pushed himself.

How long had he…?

A shudder wracked through his entire body, the cold still threading through his skin. His eyes fluttered shut against his will.

“He needs help,” Apollo said, his voice faint as reality dissolved around him.

A booming laugh echoed through Percy’s skull, and then he was gone.

Percy’s dreams were fractured, flickering images flashing before but fading before he could get a good look at them.

He caught a glimpse of Artemis racing through the woods, Zoë Nightshade clutching something to her chest, Thalia storming down the steps of the big house, Chris sprinting down a dark hallway—all flickering past him too quick to really see.

The next time Percy opened his eyes to the dark mountain, he couldn’t feel his fingers.

He was still shivering, faint shudders shaking his crumpled form every few seconds.

Percy was…he was so cold. And he couldn’t feel his fingers—or his toes. 

The saltwater in his veins moved sluggishly, too overcome by the cold to help him. Percy was freezing—he’d never been so cold in his life and he couldn’t—

“...wrong with him,” a faint voice reached his ears. “It wasn’t this bad for me.”

Percy didn’t remember closing his eyes, but he had to force them open again to catch the speaker—so he must’ve shut them at some point.

“He held it longer than you. Longer than he should’ve. And he’s a son of Poseidon, the sea is strong in him. It’s not good for a child of the sea to touch the sky. They don’t—they don’t mix well. If he’d held it any longer the sky would’ve overcome him entirely and he’d be dead.”

Apollo—that was Apollo. So who…

A warm—blessedly, amazingly warm—hand touched his forehead gently and Percy whimpered. He was so cold, he needed—

Percy’s eyes had closed again. He forced them open once more, finally catching sight of Chris kneeling above his head. It was Chris’s hand pressed to Percy’s forehead, his eyebrows furrowing. Another shudder wracked through Percy, and he pressed his face further into Chris’s palm, seeking as much warmth as he could get.

“He’s too cold. Why is he so cold?” Chris asked, looking to the side.

“The effects of touching the sky for so long as a child of the sea. He needs to be taken to the ocean.”

Chris shook his head. “They won’t do that. It’d be too easy for him to escape and they still need him.”

“Water, then. Anything’s better than just leaving him here to die.”

Percy whined when the warmth on his forehead disappeared and the biting cold rushed back in.

His eyes slipped shut, everything around him losing all meaning at the resurgence of the chill destroying him from the inside out.

It could’ve been minutes or hours later when Chris returned, pulling Percy up to rest against his chest.

Percy keened deep in his throat as he curled into Chris’s warmth, pressing his face into the side of his neck.

“Hey, come on, Perce. You need—you need to drink. You’re dehydrated, you need—”

Percy whined, rolling his head blindly to the side as Chris pressed something to his lips. He didn’t care—he just wanted to be warm, wanted the horrible cold to go away.

Percy’s eyes fluttered open when Chris pressed the same thing to his lips again.

“C’mon, Perce. You need water,” Chris urged softly.

Percy tilted his head up obediently at the blatant worry in Chris’s voice, allowing him to pour water from the bottle in his hands into Percy’s mouth.

It was heavenly. How long had it been since Percy had had anything to drink? 

The last time he recalled eating or drinking anything had been when they landed in the woods at Westover Hall.

How long ago had that been?

How long had he been here?

Percy gulped down the water like a man stranded in the desert for months, almost crying with relief when the water flooded through his veins.

It wasn’t saltwater—wasn’t the sea that protected him, cradled him, saved him—but it was infinitely better than the cold.

Another shudder wracked through him when Chris took the empty bottle away, curling closer to the warmth his friend provided. 

But were they friends? Chris had tricked him, had abandoned him under the sky, had left him—

Chris had also come back, had checked on him, had brought him water.

Even now Chris was still holding him, letting Percy soak up as much heat as he could.

Percy shivered again, and quickly decided that debating his and Chris’s friendship could wait until Percy wasn’t a popsicle.

Chris’s voice was low, wracked with something that sounded like guilt. “I didn’t—I didn’t know it would hurt him this badly. Luke said—”

“You’re the reason he took the sky, aren’t you? He took it from you.” Apollo grunted, and Percy heard him shifting on the rocks but couldn’t turn his head to look at the god.

Despite the warmth Chris was providing, he was still so cold—so tired—he couldn’t bring himself to move.

“Luke knew Percy wouldn’t leave a—a friend in pain when he could help,” Chris admitted hoarsely. 

“He’s a good friend. Better than you deserve, I think.”

Chris flinched, a tiny movement so small Percy wouldn’t have noticed it if he weren’t pressed as close to Chris’s chest as he could get. 

“He didn’t even hesitate,” Chris said. “I hadn’t—I hadn’t spoken to him in over a year, I avoided him after he got claimed, and he still—he didn’t even hesitate.”

Apollo hummed, disappointment coloring his tone.

“It wasn’t supposed to—I never wanted him to get hurt. I just wanted…I wanted things to be better for the demigods, I wanted our parents to care.”

Chris sounded like he was begging Apollo to understand, but Percy thought a part of him was talking to Percy too.

I didn’t mean to hurt you. I never hated you.

Percy let out a low noise, unsure of what he was trying to convey.

“What are you doing?” Luke’s harsh voice cut through the fog sharply.

Chris tensed and he moved, letting Percy slide back down to the rocky ground.

“I was just—”

Percy pushed through the biting cold that was sapping all of his strength to wrap numb fingers around Chris’s arm before Luke could yank him away.

Chris needed to know—

“Don’t go,” Percy said. “Don’t let him send you there, you won’t find what you’re looking for.”

Chris’s eyes were full of confusion, but Percy pressed on.

Certain, suddenly, of Chris’s fate—of what awaited him in the darkness.

“He’ll find you, he’ll drive you—”

Luke pulled Chris away with a tight grip on his arm and the last of Percy’s strength left him. 

The two demigods were arguing in hushed whispers as Luke dragged Chris out of sight.

Percy shivered, hating the return of the cold even more now that he'd been given a taste of warmth.

He hoped Chris didn’t get into trouble. The demigod might’ve been the reason Percy couldn’t feel his toes, but he was still…Percy didn’t want him to get hurt.

Percy shifted back onto his side, curling around his unresponsive limbs as best as he could to conserve what little heat he had left.

Apollo was kneeling barely two feet away from Percy’s crumpled form—if Percy could force his arms to move he might’ve even been able to touch the god. Percy’s fingers twitched at the thought—Apollo was the sun god, he was always warm, maybe he could—

Apollo and the mountainside flickered out of view, his aching muscles and frozen bones disappearing.

Percy frowned, opening his eyes to the familiar woods of camp. That was…he hadn’t meant to do that. He hadn’t been trying to float this time, his consciousness had left his body unintentionally.

Percy was sure that should’ve been setting off alarm bells in his head, but he was honestly too happy for the temporary respite from his pain to put much more thought into it.

He wasn’t in pain right now. He wasn’t too cold to function.

Thunder boomed above him, followed quickly by the tell-tale flash of lightning. Enraged shouts reached his ears, and Percy drew closer to the noise.

A small group of campers stood facing off against a group of silver-wearing girls that Percy recognized to be the hunters, with what must’ve been the rest of the year-long campers huddled around.

Percy’s heart hurt when he spotted Silena and Lee standing next to each other and arguing heatedly with a pair of Hunters.

He wondered what the others had told them—did they know what happened to him? Did they think he was dead?

He hoped they didn’t think he was dead—hoped they weren’t mad at him either, for throwing himself in front of yet another friend without a thought to what could happen to him.

Thalia was gesturing angrily in Zoë Nightshade’s face, and the Lieutenant was puffing up in response, lifting her nose haughtily. Annabeth was trying to pull her friend back but she was limping heavily, only able to put weight on one leg. It all came to a head when Zoë said something that had Thalia lunging forward with a snarl.

The two girls tumbled to the ground in a typical schoolyard brawl, fists flying and legs kicking out. The two Hunters Lee and Silena had been arguing with jumped forward to join the fight, which had Percy’s friends leaping into the fray without hesitation.

Chiron raced forward, yelling for order before stopping cold, his gaze locked on something in the woods.

Percy turned, raising his eyebrows in shock as he caught sight of what had stopped Chiron in his tracks. Was that…

The mummified body that hosted the Oracle of Delphi stumbled into the clearing, shrouded in a murky green mist. Campers and Hunters alike backed away from the decayed husk.

“This is impossible,” Percy heard Chiron whisper. “It has never—for her to leave the attic…”

The withered body shuffled until it stood directly in front of the previously brawling group of teens.

Mist curled around everyone’s feet, giving the snow a sickly green hue.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. And then the familiar hissing voice of the Oracle echoed in Percy’s head. Everyone else must’ve heard the same thing, because several of them flinched back and raised their hands to cover their ears.

I am the spirit of Delphi, the voice said. Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.

The Oracle regarded the group silently for a moment, even flicking cold, dead eyes in the direction of Percy’s non corporeal form, before turning unmistakably toward Zoë Nightshade.

Approach, Seeker, and ask.

Zoë took a miniscule step backwards before seemingly steeling her nerves. “What—what must I do?”

The Oracle opened its mouth, pouring out green mist that curled around like a snake—a python. A vague image formed in the fog, and Percy startled when he saw the mountaintop that he himself was currently on.

Apollo, legs chained to the rocks, knelt on the rocky ground. He bore the weight of the sky on his shoulders, blue eyes blazing even through the blurry image. Percy spotted his own form, slumped motionlessly on the edge of the frame. He looked…dead.

The god’s mouth opened, speaking with the hissing voice of the Oracle.

Five shall go west to he who is chained,

One shall be lost in the land without rain.

The heat of the sun shall show the trail,

Percy snapped back into his body with a gasp, arching slightly as pain slammed into him and the cold rushed through his veins once more. Unbidden, Percy’s mouth moved, finishing the prophecy of the Oracle of Delphi.

“Campers and Hunters combined prevail.

The Titan’s curse must one withstand,

And one shall perish by a parent’s hand.”

Percy slumped back onto the rocks, dragging breath through numb lips into frostbitten lungs. It was harder to breathe now than it had been before Percy had floated. The cold was just as persistent as it had been, sending small shivers wracking through his limbs.

“...Percy…” A strange ringing filled his ears, drowning out whoever was trying to speak to him.

Percy wheezed, coughing weakly around the ice creeping up his throat.

Even his shudders were getting weaker, as though his muscles no longer had the energy even for that.

“Percy.” Apollo’s voice was firm, not even trembling despite the strain the god was under. “Percy, listen to me. You can’t keep doing that.”

Percy twitched, rolling his head to the side so he could look at Apollo. He tried to speak, but his tongue wouldn’t listen to him, only a weak whine leaving his throat.

“You can’t keep—keep throwing yourself out of your body, going somewhere else with your mind. If you do it again in this condition, it’ll kill you. Do you hear me? You have to stay in your body, don’t let your mind leave again.”

“...can’t—can’t control it,” Percy’s voice was faint, barely there.

“I’ll help you,” Apollo promised. “Come closer.”

Percy scrunched his eyebrows, his fingers twitching as he tried to force his frozen limbs to move.

“Can’t,” he rasped. “Can’t feel…can’t move—so cold…”

“I’ll help with that, too, Percy. You just need to come closer,” Apollo said.

Percy keened deep in his chest but somehow—impossibly—managed to find the strength to move. He dug numb fingers into the stone beneath him and dragged his body toward Apollo.

Every inch was torture, but he forced his trembling arms forward again and again.

Slowly, painfully, Percy pulled his body over sharp rocks and hard stone until he reached Apollo.

His icy fingers brushed against Apollo’s leg, and Percy almost wept at the flood of warmth that swept through his fingertips.

“There we go,” Apollo murmured. “Just a little further, curl around me—just like that.”

Percy curled his body around the god’s kneeling form, huddling as close to Apollo as he could get. He wound an arm around Apollo’s bent knee, his knees brushing up against the leg resting on the ground.

Sunlight burned through his veins, driving out the cold.

“Warm,” Percy choked out as feeling gradually crept back into his limbs.

“Well,” Apollo’s voice was strained. “I have been told I’m pretty hot.”

Percy’s amused huff quickly turned into a cough, air scraping roughly out of his throat as the coughs wracked his entire body.

“Ow,” he rasped painfully as the fit subsided.

“Mmm, yeah, maybe not my best idea to try and make you laugh.”

“I app—appreciate the—the…effort,” Percy wheezed.

Apollo grunted, adjusting the weight on his shoulders. “You need to rest.”

Percy frowned. “But you said—”

“That’s different. What you were doing—throwing your consciousness out of your body while awake…it’s dangerous, especially in your condition. It puts a strain on the body. But sleeping is fine—you need to sleep, it’ll give your body more of a chance to recover.”

“Mmmph,” Percy shifted on the rocks, pulling himself closer to the warmth Apollo provided. His eyes slipped shut and before he knew it Percy was drifting away.

Chapter Text

Lee knew something was wrong the second his father stepped off of his glowing sun chariot—in shuttle bus form—without his typical sunny smile.

Lee had only spoken with the man—always in dreams—maybe a dozen times in his life, at most, but he knew that Apollo was almost always capable of putting on a show even when he wasn’t feeling particularly happy.

So for the god to not even bother trying to fake cheerfulness, Lee knew something had to have gone horribly wrong.

A flash of dread flickered through Lee. He cast his senses out, searching for the rain on his skin that meant Percy.

Lightning crackling over his arms, olives on his tongue, wildflowers on the breeze, cold shadows coiling around his feet, even the blazing heat of Apollo beating down on him—but no rain.

No riptides curling over his feet, no hurricane twisting around him. No saltwater. No rain.

No Percy.

“Ah, you’re back,” Chiron said as he trotted up to the sun chariot.

Thalia ducked off the bus first, looking grateful to be on solid ground. Annabeth and Grover traipsed off next, followed by a small bouncing boy that must’ve been one of the demigods they rescued.

“We expected you late last night, why—”

“Where is he?” Lee interrupted Chiron, flicking his eyes around the assembled group.

A troop of young girls filed off the bus, filing past without a second glance. Idly, Lee recognized them as the Hunters of Artemis—which was just great, honestly, he loved it when they came to camp and treated everybody like shit—but he had more important things to worry about.

“Where’s Percy?” Lee asked.

Chiron paused, running his eyes of the dejected demigods in front of him as if realizing for the first time they were missing somebody.

Annabeth’s hunched shoulders and red eyes told Lee everything.

“Oh, dear…”

“No,” Lee barely recognized his own voice, twisted in an unnatural grief. “No, that’s not—he can’t be…”

Lee forced himself to meet his father’s eyes, begging—pleading—for the god of prophecy to tell him that Percy was still alive. Percy was his prophet, surely Apollo would know. Surely Lee would know. He refused to believe that Percy could die without him knowing.

Apollo’s eyes were unreadable, but he dipped his head—the movement small enough that anyone not paying attention would’ve missed it—and Lee let his head hang to hide his relief.

Percy was alive. He was alive.

“What happened?” Chiron asked after a long moment.

“He was an idiot, that’s what.” Thalia crossed her arms, scuffing her feet in the snow laying on the ground.

Lee’s vision tinged red at the dismissive way she talked about him. Percy and Thalia had a difficult relationship, that much Lee knew. They could fight like cats and dogs all day, but when they sat down for dinner at their lonely tables, they had an understanding. Percy had tried to explain it once, what it was like to be a child of the Big Three, but Lee—coming from one of the biggest cabins, with over a dozen siblings—just couldn’t quite understand. Not like Thalia did.

But still, just because Percy and Thalia had an understanding didn’t mean Lee and Thalia had an understanding.

For Thalia to insult Percy when he wasn’t here, when he was presumed dead—even though Lee knew he wasn’t—well, nothing was guaranteed to get Lee’s blood boiling more.

“Thalia!” Annabeth admonished, and the rest of the group looked similarly unhappy.

“What? He was. I didn’t ask for him to do what he did. It was—it was his own fault.”

Lee’s fingers twitched to go for his bow. “Watch it, Thalia.”

Thalia’s lip curled as she looked over at him, but Lee paused when he caught a glimpse of her eyes. There was anger there, yes, but something else…guilt, almost.

“I’m just—”

“Enough, children. Tell us what happened instead of…blaming each other.” Chiron interjected.

Thalia scoffed, tossing her head derisively.

“The monster was a manticore,” Annabeth explained quietly. “It trapped us on a cliff, but then the Hunters arrived. The manticore went for Thalia right before the Hunters shot him off the cliff, she was still trying to get to her feet so she didn’t see it and then Percy—”

Annabeth cut herself off, rubbing a rough hand over her red eyes.

“He—he got…dragged off a cliff by the manticore,” Grover sniffled.

Understanding rushed through Lee like a tidal wave.

“You’re mad at Percy for saving your life?” Lee asked Thalia incredulously.

“I didn’t ask him to,” Thaila shot back defensively.

“You didn’t have to,” Lee hissed. “That’s what Percy does—”

“Well, he shouldn’t have! I didn’t want his help. I didn’t need it!”

“Oh, sure. Please, even Annabeth said you didn’t see it until it was too late. Just admit it, Percy saved your life! It’s not his fault, it’s yours,” Lee snarled. 

Thalia took a step back but recovered quickly, her electric blue eyes blazing. “How dare—”

“Enough!” Chiron reprimanded them both.

“It does no good to place blame now. We will simply have to…”

For maybe the first time in his life, Lee ignored Chiron. Unable to be around the daughter of Zeus for another second, Lee spun on his heel and stomped away.

He made it all the way to the cabin area before the emotions hit him like a sledgehammer and he staggered. 

Lee stumbled to the porch steps of the nearest cabin, uncaring of which cabin it was, sitting down and burying his head in his hands. He had no idea how long he sat there, shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, before a gentle hand laid itself on his back.

“Lee?”

Silena.

Lee turned his face to catch sight of the daughter of Aphrodite starting down at him, concern clear in her eyes.

“Lee, what’s happened? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Percy,” Lee choked out. Silena’s face fell immediately.

“He’s not—”

“He’s alive,” Lee said. “I know he is, but…they—he got…taken. Dragged off a cliff. The others said—and they just left, they—they didn’t even look for him. But he’s alive, Silena, I swear it—”

Silena plopped herself next to Lee on the steps and drew him into a tight hug. “He’s alive,” she said softly.

“He knew,” Lee cried quietly. “That fucking bastard, he knew. He told me he didn’t want to—that he had a bad feeling…I should’ve told him not to go—I should’ve tried harder—”

“Oh, come now, Lee.” Silena ran a hand through his hair comfortingly. “One of Percy’s friends was in danger. There wasn’t a force on Earth that could’ve kept him from going to help Grover, not even you.”

“I could’ve,” Lee insisted. “I could’ve. If I’d begged him not to go, he wouldn’t have.”

“And it would’ve killed him inside,” Silena told him, drawing back to look him straight in the eyes.

“Yes, but he would’ve been here.” Lee whispered. “He would’ve been here instead of gods knows where with gods knows what happening—”

His voice broke.

“He wouldn’t be Percy if he were here, you know that,” Silena chided gently. “It’s who he is, always running to save his friends without a thought of what could happen to him.”

“Guess we should’ve known that our self-sacrificing tendencies intervention would get pushed back because he went and sacrificed himself again,” Lee chuckled wetly.

“Oh, he’ll really be in for it when we get him back, won’t he?” Silena nudged him with a grin, wiping away the tears in her eyes.

“Oh, definitely.”

“And we’ll get him back,” Silena said firmly. “We will.” Her confidence was infectious.

“We will,” Lee echoed.

Silena wrapped her arms around him again, resting her chin on top of his head.

“We should go,” Lee said eventually. “We need to make sure the Hunters haven’t killed anybody yet.”

“The Hunters? The Hunters are here?”

“They got dropped off by my dad with the others, I didn’t stick around long enough to ask why they were here but they didn’t look happy about it.”

“Oh, of course not,” Silena snorted derisively. “Sullying themselves to staying in the same vicinity as disgusting boys. As if we needed anything else to make our day shitty. Right, let’s go make sure those girls haven’t burned down any more cabins.”

They stood up together, splitting up quickly to go check on the other campers and warn them that the Hunters were back.

Lee broke up no less than three fights throughout the rest of the day: an Ares camper and a Huntress almost came to blows because the Huntress wanted to play basketball and tried to make the guy leave, one of Lee’s own brothers almost got shot for daring to use the archery range at the same time as a gaggle of the immortal archers, even Beckendorf had to be pulled back from an altercation—said altercation had been caused because one of the Hunters mocked Lacy from the Aphrodite cabin about love being weak until the little girl cried.

Needless to say, by dinner, every camper was in a pretty foul mood. Chiron’s welcoming of the Hunters to camp was met with dark glares and minimal applause, whereas his announcement of the Capture the Flag game scheduled for the next day—a tradition every time the Hunters were in camp—received hearty claps and cheers.

Every camper was ready to get a hit in on the Hunters, even if they didn’t pull a win—they never did, for the record.

Lee went to bed still in a bad mood, praying that the next day would be better—at the very least, Lee would get the opportunity to put an arrow or two in one of the haughty Hunters.

Lee almost never got demigod dreams, so he was surprised when he shut his eyes and found himself on a dark mountaintop.

His surprise was immediately lost in the horror he felt when he caught a glimpse of the scene laid out before him.

Lee’s own father was kneeling on the rocky ground bound in celestial bronze chains, bent nearly double as he struggled underneath a mass of darkness pressing into his shoulders.

But how…Lee had just seen Apollo this morning—

Then Lee saw the worst part.

Percy Jackson lay crumpled on the ground at Apollo’s feet, curled in an almost fetal position. Lee rushed forward, unable to help himself despite knowing he was dreaming.

Percy wasn’t moving—he didn’t even look like he was breathing. 

Lee felt like collapsing in relief when the son of Poseidon shuddered, dragging in a raspy inhale.

Percy wasn’t—he wasn’t in good condition, as made clear by the effort it seemed to take him to draw breath, but he was alive.

Right now, that was enough. Percy just had to stay alive long enough for Lee and the others to come get him—and Apollo, too, because Lee’s father had somehow managed to get himself captured in the couple of hours since Lee had seen him at camp.

Apollo looked up, blue eyes blazing as they locked onto Lee’s incorporeal form.

Lee snapped awake with a gasp, shooting upright in his bed and scaring two of his siblings half to death.

“Sorry, dream,” Lee explained as he leapt out of bed. “Need to talk to Chiron.”

He barely remembered to put shoes on before racing out of the cabin for the Big House. The sun peeked over the horizon as Lee hopped up the porch stairs, serving as another reminder of his father’s current predicament.

Zoë Nightshade stormed out the door right as Lee reached it, curling her lip in disgust as she spotted him but thankfully moving on without saying anything.

Lee found Chiron and Mr. D in the rec room where counselor meetings were held, and Mr. D rolled his eyes contemptuously when Lee burst through the door.

“Can’t get a single moment’s peace here,” the wine god remarked dryly.

“We need a quest,” Lee said, ignoring the camp director entirely.

Chiron sighed heavily. “If this is about sending a group to search for Percy—”

“It’s not,” Lee interrupted. “Well, it is, but it’s also—I had a dream—”

“Oh, not you too,” Mr. D complained. “First the Nightshade girl and now you.”

Lee took a deep breath, reminding himself that Dionysus was a very dangerous god and also that Lee couldn’t afford to make the camp director his enemy right now.

“It’s my father,” he said. “He’s been captured. I saw him in chains and—and Percy was there, too. He’s still alive, and the same people that took him have my father. We need to assign a quest to go and rescue them.”

Chiron and Mr. D exchanged a long look while Lee fidgeted on his feet impatiently.

“What is there to think about?” Lee asked desperately. “A god’s been captured, surely that means a quest—”

Chiron raised a hand and Lee fell silent.

“It’s not that simple, Lee. Your dream, when one considers the information we received from Ms. Nightshade’s vision, has dangerous ramifications for the state of the godly world.”

“What do you mean? What did Zoë dream about? What ramifications?” Lee sat himself down in one of the chairs in front of the two directors.

Chiron hesitated, but he must’ve seen that Lee wasn’t leaving without answers because he relented after a moment. 

“Ms. Nightshade told us that she dreamt that a dangerous enemy of the gods had been freed, and now you tell us that Apollo himself has been captured. Those two things together do not bode well. The winter solstice is in less than a week. If Apollo is still chained by then…” Chiron cleared his throat, eyes flicking over to Mr. D before continuing.

“Apollo’s council at the winter solstice is invaluable, especially when the gods intend to bring up the matter of action against the movements of the Titans. They cannot vote on a matter so important without all twelve of the Olympians, regardless of which way they believe Apollo would vote or how unanimous the decision is…all twelve must be there.”

“So then assign a quest!”

“If Apollo has truly been captured by who we think has been freed…we cannot—” Chiron shook his head.

“But you just said Apollo had to be rescued! And who are you talking about? Who’s been freed?”

Chiron sighed, his eyes more solemn than Lee had ever seen them. “There is much at stake here, Lee. Mr. D and I will…deliberate the merits of a quest. We will speak more on this later.”

Lee tried to protest but Chiron leveled him with a serious look and shooed him out of the rec room.

Lee glowered all throughout breakfast. He didn’t understand. Chiron had said rescuing Apollo was vitally important, so then why was he so hesitant to assign a quest? And why was he so concerned about Zoë’s dream? What enemy of the gods could’ve been freed that had Chiron so fearful of sending campers on a quest?

It didn’t make any sense. 

After lunch, Lee met with the rest of the year-round counselors to go over strategies for that night’s Capture the Flag game. 

The room was…tense, to say the least. Lee and Thalia refused to look at each other, and the rest of the counselors could clearly sense the fight brewing.

Eventually, Silena stepped in. “Okay, guys. I know we’ve all had a stressful couple days. And I know some of us aren’t particularly happy with one another,” Silena paused to stare meaningfully at the still scowling Lee and Thalia. “But if there’s one thing we can all agree on, it’s that these Hunters need to be taken down a peg. So let’s put our differences aside and kick their asses, yeah?”

“Yeah!” The rest of the counselors chorused.

Lee looked down the table, locking eyes with Thalia. They shared a singular nod, an agreement to temporarily move past their argument in favor of showing the Hunters they couldn’t just get away with everything.

“Glad to see we’re all in agreement,” Silena smiled. “Now, let’s talk strategy.”

The plan was, in all actuality, rather simple. Annabeth had argued for a more complex strategy, but she’d been outvoted on the grounds that they simply didn’t have the numbers.

Besides, the Hunters always did the same thing. They left a group of girls to guard the flag, scattered a couple throughout the forest as additional defense, and then sent Zoë and a small team to grab the flag.

It was no award-winning strategy, but it worked every time—mostly because the Hunters weren’t limited by the usual Capture the Flag rules.

They could use whatever arrows they wanted, even the ones that the Apollo cabin was banned from using during friendly games, like sonic arrows—which could permanently damage someone’s hearing if it went off too close to a person—or sunburst arrows—which could cause permanent vision loss if set off in close enough quarters.

The Hunters also weren’t able to be punished for intentional maiming the way the campers were, since they were under Lady Artemis’s protection and also were almost never in camp long enough to be punished anyways.

The girls were fully aware of this fact and used it to their advantage every game, shattering bones and slicing through tendons without care for if the healers would be able to fix the damage.

And, look, injuries happened all the time in Capture the Flag—case in point, Percy’s very first Capture the Flag game—so Lee was no stranger to setting bones and stitching cuts.

But the Hunters went overboard everytime, and more than one camper had come away from the game with a permanent disability—always one of the guys, because the Hunters were far more ruthless with dudes.

Regardless, Lee was practically chomping at the bit for an opportunity to get back at the Hunters, and he could tell everybody else was feeling the same.

Their plan was easy.

Beckendorf and his two year-round siblings were stationed as guards around the flag—along with the new camper, Nico di Angelo. Two of Lee’s siblings would be camping in the trees to keep an eye out for approaching Hunters and, if possible, take them out with stealthy arrows.

Silena would lead a group to the right and the Stolls would take a troop left, hoping to draw as many Hunters into a chase as they could while pretending to go for the flag.

Lee and the rest of his siblings would scatter themselves in the trees on both sides of the border, in hopes that a well-placed arrow could stop the Hunters long enough in the event they took the flag and made for the stream.

Thalia and the rest of the campers would be driving down the center of the forest, going directly for the flag. Annabeth, meanwhile, would be shadowing Thalia’s group with her invisibility cap on, ready to slip away as soon as Thalia’s group engaged in a fight.

Hopefully, the Hunters would be too spread out and distracted to notice any tracks the daughter of Athena left, and she could snatch the flag and make her way to the border without trouble.

It was simple. It was easy. No out-of-the-box thinking or anything like that—nothing that Percy would’ve suggested if he were there, smirking across the table at Lee as he suggested something ridiculous that somehow always ended up working.

Annabeth was still grumbling when the meeting adjourned, unhappy with the simplicity of their plan.

Lee didn’t care how impressive their strategy was, as long as it worked. As long as they showed the Hunters that they couldn’t just walk all over the campers and expect no retaliation.

Lee wandered around camp for a while during his afternoon free time, feeling too pent up to do much else. Eventually, his feet took him down to the pegasi stables. 

Truth be told, Lee had never spent much time with the pegasi until he’d met Percy.

It was impossible to be friends with Percy and not spend hours at a time in the stables, Lee swore it was impossible for the son of Poseidon to go more than a day without going for a ride or just gossiping with the winged horses.

Raised voices reached his ears the closer he got, and Lee almost groaned aloud when stepped in the stables and caught sight of the ensuing argument. 

Silena was practically spitting mad, light blue eyes gleaming with fury. The other girl was a Hunter—even worse, she was a Hunter that had once been a camper.

Campers turned Hunters were the worst, because as soon as they took their vow it was as if they forgot that they used to be a camper. They became a completely different person, looking down on all campers with such contempt and lifting their noses haughtily anytime one of their old friends—or siblings—tried to talk to them.

This particular girl was a daughter of Demeter that had joined up a little over two years ago. It had come out of nowhere, Lee remembered. The Hunters had stopped by for a couple of days and the girl, Dinah, had recently been rejected by one of the Ares kids—the dude had been rather rude about it, so she had reason to be mad, but most everyone could agree that her reaction had been over the top. She’d taken her vow within hours of the Hunters arriving and then avoided the rest of the campers like they had the plague—even her own siblings.

The Capture the Flag game had been even more brutal than usual, and Dinah had gotten in a fight with one of the other Demeter kids about how quickly Dinah had turned on them and how easily she’d broken someone’s clavicle—someone who’d been her friend up until two days before.

The resulting argument had ended in two cabins being burned down—almost killing two campers and permanently scarring another because apparently the Hunters didn’t bother to check if anyone was inside before setting the places on fire—and the Hunters skipping town before an irate Chiron could seek punishment.

Needless to say, Dinah was very much persona non grata in camp these days—as were most of the Hunters.

“—not weakness,” Silena was hissing. “How dare you—”

“Oh, please,” Dinah sniffed. “You guys are hardly more than pampered Barbies, the only way you can ever win a fight is by—”

Lee cleared his throat loudly, stopping the Huntress from finishing her sentence—which, from the way it was sounding, almost certainly saved the girl’s life—and striding forward to where the two girls were posturing angrily.

“Dinah, it’s good to see you again.” Lee said coldly, making it obvious how false his statement was. “I’m afraid riding the pegasi is just for campers, though—of which you are no longer one—so if that’s what you’re here for—”

Dinah snarled at him, spinning on her heel and stomping out of the stables without another word.

Silena deflated as soon as the doors slammed shut behind the Huntress, burying her head in her hands.

“You good? Don’t think I’ve ever seen you that pissed before,” Lee commented, leaning up against one of the stall doors.

His heart panged when the pegasi inside clopped up to hang her head over the door—Melody, the first pegasi Percy had ever ridden, the pegasi he spent the most time with, the pegasi who mothered him and loved him and—

Lee ran a soft hand down Melody’s face and reached up to scratch her behind the ears in the way he knew she loved—she loved it most when Percy was the one scratching her, but, for now, Lee would have to do.

“I’m fine, just…really ready for tonight’s game.” Silena said, drawing Lee out of his thoughts.

“What’d she say that had you so…”

“The typical stuff the Hunters spout about me and my siblings. ‘Love is weakness’ and ‘children of Aphrodite are useless.’ It’s just—it hurt more coming from her. I taught her how to ride the pegasi, helped her pick out her first short sword, Drew and I even comforted her when Dalton rejected her, and for her to turn around and say all that stuff about my siblings and I…” Silena shook her head sadly, slumping against the door next to Lee and petting Melody absentmindedly.

“I wish Percy were here,” she whispered quietly. “He’d know what to say to—” Silena broke off, swiping away tears in the corner of her eyes.

“He would,” Lee agreed, before letting out a soft chuckle. “I can practically hear his rant now.”

Percy had always been very vocal on how important Aphrodite was as a goddess, how dangerous and powerful she was, the potential her kids had—Lee had been subjected to many an angry rant about how the other campers seemed to overlook the children of Aphrodite, and Demeter, in favor of more ‘warlike’ and ‘powerful’ gods.

“He’d say something to the effect of…” Lee paused, searching for the familiar words of one of Percy’s many rants. “They’re idiots, all of them. Aphrodite is one of the oldest goddesses, reigning over love and beauty, passion and pleasure and sexuality in equal parts. The Hunters think that romantic or sexual love is the only type there is, but in reality the Ancient Greeks had several words for love, all pointing to a different version—all special, all important. Familial love, long standing love, selfless love…romantic and sexual love is only a small part of the love we feel. And the Hunters are blind to that. Love isn’t weakness, far from it, in fact. Love is what drives us, motivates us, gives us a purpose beyond just surviving.”

Silence reigned for a moment and then Silena giggled. “That was, like, word for word—”

“I think his rants are imprinted into my brain at this point,” Lee said.

They dissolved into near hysterical laughter, stopping only when Melody nudged them impatiently until they started petting her again.

“You’ve really got it bad, huh,” Silena teased once they had their breath back.

Lee blushed fiercely but couldn’t bring himself to argue. Ever since Percy had swept into camp like a storm two summers ago, the two of them had had a special connection. At first, it had just been the overlap in their abilities, but it had quickly grown into a close friendship.

And then, almost a year ago, Lee had shown up on the Aphrodite cabin’s doorstep one afternoon in a panic after an Iris-Message with Percy. Lee couldn’t remember what it was about the conversation that had him coming to the realization that his feelings for the son of Poseidon were far from platonic, but the realization had hit him hard. He’d sprinted all the way across the cabin area and knocked desperately on the door until Silena had ripped the door open.

She’d taken one look at his wild eyes and heaving chest and invited him inside immediately. He’d spilled everything—except for Percy’s secrets—to her on one of their, frankly, ridiculously comfortable couches.

Silena had listened patiently, had comforted him, had offered him advice, and had waited a whole two days before beginning to tease him relentlessly about it.

Lee had come to terms with his hopeless crush on the son of Poseidon—although, sometimes it didn’t seem quite so hopeless.

So, he flushed to the tips of his ears but didn’t bother trying to deny Silena’s words.

“I do,” he admitted quietly. “Sometimes—sometimes I think…”

“That he likes you back,” Silena finished.

“Don’t suppose you’d tell me if he’d mentioned anything like that to you?” Lee thunked his head back on the stall door.

“If he had, I wouldn’t tell you,” Silena smiled. “I don’t interfere like that, you know that.”

“I know,” Lee sighed. “I just wish…ugh, sometimes he can be so—and I think—but then he never—ughhhh…”

Silena laughed, ruffling Lee’s hair before moving to get a sugarcube for Melody.

“C’mon, loverboy, let’s go get dinner and talk more about your boy problems.”

“You’re laughing at me,” Lee whined. “I’m struggling and you’re laughing at me.”

Silena tugged him along next to her with a laugh, and together they made their way up to the dining pavilion.

Dinner was rife with anticipation. even the campers that generally preferred more peaceful resolutions—Beckendorf, Katie, Silena, Pollux—were itching for a fight, serious expressions etched onto their faces.

Lee fingered his quiver as he followed the rest of the campers into the woods. He sent a singular nod to Michael and Austin, who were the two siblings of his that were going to be stationed around the flag, before splitting off with the rest of his siblings to hide in the trees around the stream.

Lee didn’t climb a tree yet, crouching next to the stream and waiting for the conch horn to blow. He couldn’t cross the border before the game started, so as soon as the horn blew he’d scamper over and disappear into the branches of one of the nearby trees.

The conch horn sounded, and Lee was over the creek and up the tree before the noise had even faded. He picked a branch that gave him a good view of the surrounding area and nocked an arrow, waiting for the tell-tale flash of silver that meant a Hunter was approaching.

Several minutes passed before he saw the first one, sprinting directly below his tree and leaping across the river without a single glance above her.

People so rarely looked up, Percy had said once, after Lee had placed several archers in the trees for Capture the Flag last year and they’d trounced the Athena cabin so hard Annabeth hadn’t stopped growling for an entire day.

The son of Poseidon was quite right—the Hunter hadn’t even stopped to consider the fact that someone might’ve been hiding in the trees, her eyes searching for ground-level threats and nothing else.

Lee drew and let his arrow fly without a second thought—was it, perhaps, unsportsmanlike to shoot someone in the back…maybe, but Lee was past caring. 

The paralytic arrow landed directly below her neck, and the Hunter went down without a sound—the arrow caused no damage, save for a small puncture and general weakness afterwards, and the paralyzation lasted an hour at most. 

The Apollo cabin had spent a long time on the paralytic arrows to make damn sure they couldn’t somehow end up actually injuring or killing anyone—which was more than the Hunters ever seemed to do.

And she’d fallen with her head to the side, so she wouldn’t suffocate either.

Two more Hunters fell in quick succession before Lee switched trees—just because they hadn’t noticed him so far didn’t mean they wouldn’t be able to follow the trajectories of the arrows placed in their fallen comrades and pick him out of the branches.

Thalia and her group stormed across the stream a little to the left of Lee, and he heard them get embroiled in a nasty sounding fight somewhere deep on the Hunter’s side.

Lightning flashed above him and Lee almost winced—getting struck by lightning, even if they were small strikes, always packed a punch—but he didn’t allow himself to feel too much sympathy for the Hunters.

They’d had this coming for years, honestly.

Things slowed down after that, and Lee was beginning to worry that the Hunters he’d already downed would start moving soon when a flash of silver erupted from the treeline on the camper’s side.

Lee cursed as he spotted Zoë Nightshade sprinting for the boundary with the orange camp flag clutched in her hands. Two Hunters guarded her back and kept the furious campers at bay.

One of them dislocated Connor Stoll’s shoulder with a sickening crack that Lee could hear even across the boundary, and his vision tinted red.

He drew a boxing glove arrow—which the archers were under strict instructions to always use carefully as they had the potential to seriously injure someone if they got hit in the wrong spot—and sent it flying toward the Hunter within half a second of Connor hitting the ground.

The boxing glove hit her in the face with a mighty thud and sent her flying backwards as blood gushed out of her nose.

Lee bared his teeth, able to tell that no lasting damage had been done to the girl and also knowing that she was out cold.

He turned his attention to Zoë, who was eating up the remaining distance to the boundary, unhindered by the campers chasing after her.

Lee bit his lip, running quickly through the best arrow to send at her. She was one of the oldest Hunters, and also one of the best. It wouldn’t be easy to take her down—or even slow her down at all.

She’d almost certainly dodge anything he sent at her directly, so he’d have to plan his shots carefully—and quickly.

Lee made a decision and sent three arrows streaming into the air one after the other.

The firework arrow landed ten feet in front of the Huntress, hissing and spitting bright sparks—that would not accidentally start a forest fire, Lee wasn’t suicidal—and Zoë veered to the side to avoid it.

This sent her directly into the second of Lee’s arrows—the thorn arrow. Thorny vines sprouted as soon as the arrow hit the ground, covering the entire surrounding area with knee high, bristling vines.

Zoë barely slowed, high stepping it through the maze of plants and ignoring the bleeding scratches running down her legs.

Distantly, Lee heard enraged screams coming from behind him and hoped more than anything that that meant Annabeth had successfully managed to steal away with the flag.

His third arrow landed just past the thorns, and immediately a thick white foam enveloped everything within ten feet of the arrow. This included an extremely irate Zoë Nightshade, who screeched in rage as the foam hardened instantly and locked her in place from the shins down.

The foam was easy to break through, crumbling under a couple pounds of pressure, but it—along with the other two—had accomplished what Lee had intended it to.

Zoë leapt out of the foam, furious at having been stopped while in a cold-sprint, and ran directly into Lee’s fourth arrow.

The sharp point sliced directly across her knuckles—a distinctly non-maiming shot, because Lee refused to break camp rules even if the Hunters had no problem with it—and reflex had her opening her hand with a shout.

The flag clattered to the ground, and Zoë had to turn back to pick it up, losing momentum and wasting precious time.

Desperate shouts erupted from the Hunter’s side of the stream, and Lee peeked around the trunk of his tree in time to catch three of the immortal girls racing after the silver flag, held by a now-visible Annabeth who must’ve lost her cap in the chase.

Thalia’s group was in close pursuit of the Hunters, trying to delay them long enough for Annabeth to get across the stream.

Lee held his breath, eyes wide as he whipped his head between the two sprinting girls. Annabeth was closer—Lee’s efforts having paid off—and he could see that satisfied grin on her face as she prepared to leap over the stream.

They were going to do it. They were actually going to beat the Hunters.

Something red flashed out of the trees right as Annabeth’s foot hit the edge of the stream on the camper’s side, smashing directly into the side of her knee.

There was a horrifying crack! as Annabeth’s kneecap dislocated, tendons ripping from the force.

Lee could do nothing but watch as the girl screamed, dropping the flag in the water just inches away from the boundary, and crumpled into the stream.

Zoë leaped over the stream like a gazelle without a second glance to the fallen daughter of Athena, and Lee stared numbly as the orange flag turned a gleaming silver.

Lee shook off his shock, sliding down the trunk of the tree and racing towards Annabeth.

Thalia reached her first, splashing into the creek and kneeling down next to Annabeth, who’d curled into a ball around her wrecked knee.

“Annie? C’mon, Beth. Let me see,” Thalia wheedled, sounding gentler than Lee had ever heard her.

Lee crashed into the stream next to them. He took one look at the mess of snapped tendons and dislocated joints and yelled over his shoulder for his siblings. Lee knew enough healing to get by, sure, but Will and Kayla had more of a gift for it than Lee ever would.

Annabeth was gritting her teeth, silent tears slipping down her cheeks as she let Thalia and Lee lift her carefully out of the creek.

Shouts broke out around them as the Hunters celebrated their win and the campers raged at how close they’d come—at how underhanded the Hunters had been to eek out a win.

Will and Kayla skidded to a stop next to Lee and he moved to get out of their way, pulling Thalia up with him. She protested for a second before stopping, her electric blue eyes lighting up with a terrifying rage.

She whipped around to where the Hunters were clumped together, passing the silver flag around and patting each other on the back.

Lee ignored Chiron’s resigned announcement of another win for the Hunters in favor of watching Thalia stomp forward and stop directly in front of them. 

“Who was it?” The daughter of Zeus growled, and lightning crackled along her fingers. Lee exchanged a meaningful glance with Silena as the Hunters stopped their celebration, looking down their noses at the irate Thalia.

The two of them stepped forward, silently backing her up.

“Who shot Annabeth in the knee right as she hit the boundary?” Thalia snarled. “That was underhanded and petty, and you know it. We should’ve won—”

“But you didn’t,” Dinah pointed out smugly. “We won. You’re just bitter—”

“Her foot was on the boundary,” Lee interrupted fiercely. “We’d already won, you—”

“The flag didn’t cross the boundary though, did it?” One of the Hunters asked snidely. “Means you didn’t win, we did.”

Zoë stepped forward when Thalia gave another low growl toward the Huntress who’d spoken. “The Hunters have won fair and square, girl.”

“Oh, fair,” Silena scoffed. “None of what you girls do is fair. You break the rules every game!”

“We do not—”

“You do,” Lee jumped in. “That boxing glove arrow was completely against the rules!”

“You used a boxing glove arrow, too, boy.” A Huntress with a broken nose interjected angrily, her voice nasally from the blood clogging her nostrils. “Don’t act so high and mighty.”

“High and mighty?” Lee’s fists clenched. “We’re the high and mighty ones? Oh, please. I hit you in the face with that arrow, that was a completely fair shot with no possibility of lasting damage because I’m not a fucking piece of shit—”

“Mind your tone, boy.” Zoë growled and Thalia stepped forward with a scoff.

“Just admit that you bitches can’t win without breaking the rules.”

“How dare you—”

Thalia and the Lieutenant started yelling over each other, and Lee was drawn into an argument with Silena, Dinah, and one of the other Hunters about the pettiness of the boxing glove hit.

“—not fair—”

“—no respect for—”

“—nothing but—”

“—fair and square—”

The clearing dissolved into screaming matches, campers and Hunters facing up and just barely restraining themselves from violence.

Lee was so caught up in his own argument that he only caught pieces of Zoë’s insult, something about a stupid boy and a cliff and good riddance, and his head whipped around as he realized what she was talking about.

Thalia’s hands sparked and she pushed Annabeth’s hands off so she could lunge forward and tackle Zoë to the ground. They wrestled on the ground for a moment before the two Hunters Lee and Silena had been arguing with jumped into the fray.

Lee and Silena joined the fight without a second of hesitation.

They couldn’t have been fighting for more than a few seconds before the forest fell silent around them. Something wrapped around his ribs, like a giant python was cording itself around his chest. Lee risked a glance over his shoulder to see the cause and stopped cold in where he’d been trying to pull Dinah off of Silena.

“What the fuck,” he whispered. The rest of the brawlers looked up, catching sight of the same thing.

The mummified husk that hosted the spirit of Delphi was stumbling towards them, campers and Hunters alike scrambling out of its way.

It stopped in front of the group, mist curling around their feet and turning the snow a sickly green.

I am the spirit of Delphi, a hissing voice said. Speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python.

The Oracle regarded the group silently for a moment before turning its cold, dead gaze on Zoë Nightshade.

Approach, Seeker, and ask.

Zoë took a step back and then steeled her nerves. “What—what must I do?”

The Oracle’s mouth opened, pouring out green mist that slithered around its husk like a snake.

The blurry image that formed in the fog had Lee’s heart stopping in his chest.

The jaws of the Python were poised directly above Lee’s head, its body coiling over his shoulders and squeezing his lungs until there was no air left.

That…that was…

The mountaintop from Lee’s dream appeared in the mist. Apollo knelt, chained by his legs to the stone, struggling with a great weight atop his shoulders.

Percy Jackson lay crumpled at the god’s feet, so still one could almost believe he was dead.

Zoë took a stumbling step backwards, horror clear on her face.

Apollo’s blue eyes shone with godly light even through the blurry image. The god’s mouth opened, spilling forth the hissing voice of the Oracle.

Five shall go west to he who is chained,

One shall be lost in the land without rain.

The heat of the sun shall show the trail,

Percy’s body jolted, back arching off the ground. His eyes remained torturously closed even as he spoke—his voice unrecognizable, overtaken by the spirit of Delphi’s hissing rasp.

Campers and Hunters combined prevail.

The Titan’s curse must one withstand,

And one shall perish by a parent’s hand.

The green mist slithered back into the Oracle’s mouth, and the mummy collapsed back onto a stone, as lifeless as if it had been perched there for a hundred years.

Chapter Text

Percy opened his eyes to familiar surroundings. The pingpong table in the Big House’s rec room stretched out before him, full to the brim with all sorts of snacks and sodas. All of the year-round counselors—along with Thalia and Annabeth, who had a massive cast wrapped around her leg—sat tensely in their assigned seats. Zoë Nightshade was perched in the chair reserved for the Artemis cabin and another was pulled up beside her with Bianca di Angelo seated in it.

The entire group was arguing profusely with each other, only stopping when Chiron banged his palm on the table loudly.

“That is quite enough,” Chiron said. “I understand tensions are high after how the game ended—”

“You mean when they maimed no less than four campers, including Annabeth, and are now going to get away scot-free,” Thalia scoffed.

“The Hunters won—” Zoë started fiercely before Chiron interrupted her.

“Enough.” The centaur’s voice was stern enough that the arguing pair stopped cold.

Percy raised his eyebrows, drifting around the table to get a closer look at Annabeth’s injury. Not only was the daughter of Athena’s leg up past her knee encased in hard plaster, but a cane rested on the table by her hand.

Must’ve been a particularly brutal Capture the Flag game—Percy’d heard horror stories from Lee about the last time the Hunters had visited, but he thought they usually kept their maiming strictly to male campers.

“A quest has been issued to Ms. Nightshade. We are not here to debate that. We are here to decide on her companions on the quest to rescue Apollo.”

“And Percy,” Annabeth interjected. “He was in that image, too. He’s alive!”

“We do not care for the life of the boy,” Zoë sniffed. “The quest has been issued for my lady’s twin brother, and he is who we will be going to rescue.”

“Rude,” Percy whispered to himself. He knew that the Hunters didn’t care—and, in fact, actively despised boys—but that seemed a little harsh. Bianca shifted in her seat, looking uncomfortable with her Lieutenant’s words.

A rush of warmth filled his chest when the rest of the counselors jumped to Percy’s defense.

A new round of arguing started as Percy’s friends protested Zoë’s words—even Beckendorf, who normally shrugged off insults like that, seemed pissed.

Chiron pounded his palm on the table again, his lips pursed in agitation.

Percy drifted away from Annabeth in Lee’s direction. The son of Apollo was slumped in his chair, arms crossed sullenly. Percy settled his noncorporeal form on the table beside Lee’s hands. He wanted to tell his friend everything, wanted to apologize for keeping secrets, wanted…he just wanted Lee. Lee made everything better—more hopeful, more bright, more happy.

“The Hunters will move out at first light,” Zoë said tightly. “We do not need to be bogged down with untrained campers.”

“We’re plenty trained,” Annabeth shot back.

“Besides,” Thalia said. “Didn’t you listen to the prophecy at all? Campers and Hunters combined prevail. You need us to succeed.”

Zoë scoffed, but couldn’t argue.

“One shall be lost, one shall perish,” Mr. D parroted the words of the prophecy. “Why should we send campers on a quest we know two won’t return from?”

“That’s not how prophecies work,” Percy whispered, though he knew no one would hear him. “Avoidance only makes it worse. So it has been spoken, so must it be.”

Lee stiffened like somebody had shocked him—a common occurrence around Thalia—and sat straight in his chair.

Somebody asked the son of Apollo if he was alright, but Lee didn’t pay them any attention, flicking his eyes around the room as though searching for something.

He slumped back down after a couple seconds. “Could’ve sworn I heard…”

He didn’t finish, but Percy felt a thrill run through him at Lee’s words.

Had Lee…had Lee heard him?

“Lee,” Percy whispered fervently. “Lee? Can you hear me?”

Lee twitched his head to the side but didn’t make any other reaction.

Sure now that Lee could hear him, Percy leaned closer until he was right next to the son of Apollo’s face.

“You can hear me, you asshole. Quit ignoring me.”

Lee shut his eyes tight like he was trying to block out Percy’s voice.

“Lee,” Percy pleaded. “Don’t ignore me. I’m here. I’m dreaming, but I’m here.”

“Two campers and three Hunters,” Thalia suggested, breaking the odd silence that had fallen over the group.

“That is…amenable,” Zoë said, sounding very displeased at the prospect.

“No,” Percy told Lee. “No.”

He wasn’t sure where the feeling had come from, but he was positive that wasn’t the correct combination.

Lee took a deep breath, and then, barely audible, whispered. “Why no?”

Percy wanted to cry at Lee’s acknowledgement of Percy’s presence.

“It’s not right. It’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

“Then what is?”

“Three campers, two Hunters.”

Lee drummed his fingers on the tabletop for a moment. “No,” he said eventually to the group. 

“No?” Zoë asked, a dangerous lilt in her voice.

“No,” Lee confirmed. “That’s not the right combination. Three campers, two Hunters.”

“If you think I’ll listen to a boy—”

“I have the voice of Apollo whispering in my ear,” Lee interrupted calmly.

Silence reigned, and then—

“Voice of Apollo?” Percy muttered in Lee’s ear. “Do I sound like your father to you?”

“You…claim Apollo is speaking to you,” Zoë said disbelievingly.

“I claim to have the voice of Apollo whispering in my ear, yes. You would call me a liar? My father is the god of truth, and he also happens to be the god you seek to rescue.” Lee’s voice rang out into the otherwise silent room.

Zoë held eye contact with Lee for a long moment, piercing dark eyes looking deep into Lee’s blue before she nodded.

“Three campers, two Hunters, then.” The Huntress didn’t sound remotely happy about the situation, but she also didn’t seem willing to outright call Lee a liar.

“Don’t suppose Apollo’s telling you anything else? Who goes on the quest? Who dies?” Thalia asked scathingly.

Lee tilted his head in Percy’s direction, clearly waiting for another piece of advice.

“Hmmm, the voice of Apollo speaks,” Percy said teasingly. He paused for a moment, letting the words crawl out of his chest and pour out his mouth.

“Lightning and love and death and sun.”

Lee parroted Percy’s words.

“A statue in the desert. An old friend in the garden.” More words spilled out of his mouth, and Lee repeated them dutifully.

Zoë stiffened as though Lee had just confirmed her worst fear.

“Well, that’s as clear as mud,” Thalia snorted.

“The first part seems mostly clear. Lightning means you, love means a child of Aphrodite, and sun means a child of Apollo—Lee, most likely. I’m unsure about death, though.” Annabeth frowned thoughtfully.

“Thou cannot expect me to take a child of the love goddess and a boy on the quest,” Zoë practically spat the words out in disgust.

“You would disregard the words of Apollo?” Silena asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

Zoë bared her teeth, but her inherent respect for the gods—or maybe just her Lady and her Lady’s twin—had her relenting.

“I suppose thou are volunteering, then?” Zoë sneered at Silena, clearly expecting her to refuse.

“I am,” Silena said. “Lee, Thalia, and I will make up the camper portion of the quest. That seems rather obvious, yes?”

Muted nods came from around the table. Percy noticed that Annabeth seemed particularly put out, but even she could tell that her injured leg put her out of the running for the quest.

“The heat of the sun shall show the trail,” the daughter of Athena said after a moment of quiet thinking. “We all assumed it meant the actual sun, and its path west, but maybe it's referring to Lee. He’s the one with the voice of Apollo in his ear. Maybe he can guide you to his dad.”

“The voice of Apollo indeed,” Percy said dryly. “We’re not going to get smited for this—smote?—fuck, wish I could ask Annabeth about that—we’re not going to get killed for this?”

“You’re the prophet of Apollo. And his prophets are often spoken of as speaking with his voice, are they not?” Lee breathed just loud enough for Percy to hear.

Percy hummed, but couldn’t disagree with Lee’s logic. “Fair enough. Guess I can ask him about it when I wake up.”

“Will you guide me?” Lee whispered near silently.

“As much as I can.”

“Fine,” Zoë growled. “Bianca and I will make up the Hunters portion of the quest. We will leave at first light.”

“Me?” Bianca asked, looking as surprised as everyone else. Clearly she hadn’t expected to be picked when she had only just taken her vows. “But I’m so—so new. I’ve barely—”

“Exactly. There is no better way to prove thyself.”

Lee grimaced but didn’t argue. He knew as well as Percy that Bianca was meant to go on the quest—she was undeniably the ‘death’ that Percy had mentioned, as the daughter of the god of the dead.

“It is decided, then.” Chiron sounded unbelievably tired.

Percy blinked, and then the rec room disappeared—Lee fading away with it—to show a by now familiar mountaintop.

Percy was still curled around Apollo’s lower body, soaking up the warmth of the sun god and letting it drive the horrible, biting chill from his veins.

“Mmmph,” Percy shifted on the uncomfortable stone, drawing Apollo’s attention.

“Good to see you up,” Apollo tried to smile, but it was strained.

“How long…”

“Almost a day.”

Almost a day. Percy’d slept for almost an entire day. 

Ugh. He was never telling Clarisse that—she called him Sleeping Beauty enough as it was.

“They’re coming,” he said instead. “They’re coming for us.”

They might’ve already left, for all Percy knew, making their way across the entire country on a quest two of them would die on.

Apollo hummed, but the sound turned into a low groan partway through.

“You saw it?”

“Mmhmm. Talked to Lee.”

Apollo tilted his head down so he could lock eyes with Percy. “You talked to Lee? In your dreams?”

Percy nodded, his cheek dragging against the rocks. “He couldn’t see me, but he—he heard me. Nobody but you has ever…”

“Probably a combination of both of your abilities. What did you—what did you say?”

“Told him who to take, some other stuff that I don’t—it just kinda spilled out, all cryptic and stuff. He also said he had the voice of Apollo whispering in his ear to get them to listen to him, hope you’re not mad about that.”

Apollo snorted, shifting his shoulders slightly to readjust the weight of the sky. “My prophets are often said to be speaking with my voice.”

“Hmph, yeah, that’s what Lee said, too.”

Percy curled his aching arm tighter around Apollo’s calf and took a moment to marvel at how ridiculous his current position was. The first time Apollo had shown up in Percy’s dream he’d almost been too nervous to speak, and now here Percy was pressed as close to the god as he could get after Apollo had taken the sky on his shoulders to save Percy’s life.

“Apollo?”

Apollo grunted to show he was listening.

“Why did you…why did you take the sky for me?”

“Would’ve thought that was obvious. You’re my prophet.”

Percy had known that his status as a prophet meant that Apollo would do everything in the god’s power to protect him—just like Poseidon would—but seeing it in action was something else.

“Well, yeah, but…I mean, if I die can’t you just—”

“Make another prophet?” Apollo finished heavily.

Percy tilted his head up to lock eyes with the sun god.

“I could, I suppose. I have blessed many people with prophetic abilities over the millennia. But you are different, Perseus. I did not give you your abilities. You were born with them.”

Percy had suspected as much ever since he’d met Apollo. The god had been unaware of Percy until Percy’d reached out to him for help—not to mention, Percy had been getting his visions since he was a kid, long before he stepped into the godly world.

“I’ve claimed you as my prophet because I’m the god of prophecy, and thus all prophets fall under my domain—they are mine, whether I give them their abilities or not. But you…your gifts are powerful, unlike any I’ve seen in—in millenia. I could bless dozens of people with prophetic abilities, and not one of them would come close to your power.”

Heat rushed into Percy’s cheeks—the way it always did when somebody talked about how powerful Percy’s gift was, how special it made him.

“There has never been someone like you. A hero and a prophet at once. Speaking prophecies as often as you are a subject in them.”

“So, if you didn’t, then…”

“I wish I could tell you, but some things remain a mystery even to me. The sea has always had a connection to prophecy dating back to before I took up the domain. And your grandmother Rhea also has a connection in that she planted the trees in the Grove of Dodona. It’s possible you received your gift from your father’s side.”

Percy hummed softly and silence fell between them until another question popped up in Percy’s head.

“Will I ever give, like, actual prophecies? Like the Oracle of Delphi? Or just like…vague warnings and cryptic sentences?”

Apollo made a sound that almost could’ve been called a laugh, but his voice was too strained for it to sound like anything other than a groan.

“Maybe. Probably, if you take up a position as an official Oracle—”

“An official—I thought…the Oracle is always a girl?”

“Most are,” Apollo conceded. “The only male Oracle I can remember was my son Trophonius. You would not be able to host the spirit of the Oracle of Delphi, as that is restricted to young female maidens and the spirit is currently…” Apollo grimaced painfully but continued. “But that doesn’t mean you cannot take up an official position as an Oracle. A new Oracle.”

“And if I did—I wouldn’t have to be, like, single for the rest of my life?” Percy checked.

Apollo tilted his head down to give Percy a blinding grin—tempered only by the sweat dripping down his face. “Got your eye on someone already?”

Percy flushed to the tips of his ears—he spared a single moment to be grateful that he had enough warmth in his body to blush again—and flicked his eyes away from Apollo’s teasing expression.

“Shut up,” he muttered. “Just tell me—”

“No, Percy, you would not have to be single the rest of your life. The Oracle of Delphi does, but that has to do with the spirit of Delphi itself rather than anything else. You would face no such restriction.”

“Oh,” Percy shifted his legs slightly, trying to keep them from going numb from the curled up position he’d been in for the last day. “That’s—that’s nice.”

The clattering of rocks off to the side stopped Apollo from continuing to tease Percy, and the god lifted his head to glare at whatever had made the noise. Percy didn’t move, too warm to want to pull his body away even the slightest from the heat Apollo gave off.

“Well, well, you two certainly look comfortable.” Luke’s voice echoed, and Percy heard his footsteps draw closer before the son of Hermes knelt down by Percy’s head. “You don’t look like you’re going to keel over at the slightest touch anymore—my lord will be pleased. He has such plans for you, you know.”

Luke ran a hand down Percy’s cheek and he jerked away at the touch—at the ants crawling over his limbs, burrowing beneath his skin.

Luke retaliated by gripping Percy’s chin tightly between his fingers, forcing Percy to look at him. Percy tried to dislodge his grip, but Luke tightened his grasp until Percy was sure there’d be bruises.

“Enough of that,” Luke said calmly. He examined Percy’s face closely for a moment before letting go. “Alright, up you get.”

Percy let out a quiet noise of protest as Luke grabbed him by the arm and yanked him unceremoniously to his feet. His overused muscles ached at having to hold his weight, his joints twinged, but worst of all was the loss of warmth.

The horrible chill hadn’t swept back in like he’d feared, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t if Luke took him away from the only source of warmth on this godsforsaken mountain.

“Don’t—”

“Or what?” Luke interrupted Apollo with a snarl. “What will you do, Apollo? What can you do?”

Luke pulled Percy closer, and he heard a sharp shhng before something bitingly cold pressed against his neck.

Apollo fell silent right as Percy processed what was being held to his throat.

Luke’s sword.

“That’s right, you can’t do anything.” Luke’s voice dripped with malice. “I could slice your pathetic little prophet’s throat here and now and leave his body on the stone until his blood soaked through your skin. And you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

A shudder ran through Percy as Luke pressed the sword deeper into his skin, not enough to draw blood but terrifyingly close.

The chill of the dead seeped off of the metal. This was the closest Percy had ever been to the sword, and the aura radiating off of the thing told him one thing. Someone had died making that thing—someone had been killed to give the blade the power it held.

“You wouldn’t,” Apollo panted. “Your lord wants him alive.”

“My lord’s plans can be adjusted,” Luke hissed. He pressed his wicked blade even deeper into Percy’s skin, and Percy let out a strangled noise of terror and pain as the sharp edge sliced into his throat.

He wouldn’t—he wasn’t going to—

“Enough,” Atlas’s voice boomed across the mountaintop. “My uncle will be most displeased if he finds you have killed Perseus Jackson for no reason other than to piss off Apollo.”

Something warm and wet was trickling down Percy’s stinging neck—blood, Luke had drawn blood.

“I wasn’t actually going to—”

“I don’t care.” Atlas cut off Luke’s protests uncaringly. “Just take the boy and go before you decide to do anything else rash.”

Luke growled but clearly didn’t want to disobey the Titan General himself, so he dropped his sword and started dragging Percy away.

“Don’t,” Apollo called as Luke pulled a weakly protesting Percy further into the marble ruins of Mt. Othrys. “He’ll get worse again—”

Apollo’s voice faded as Percy and Luke descended into a dilapidated building.

Percy tried to twist out of Luke’s bruising grip, but the son of Hermes just tightened his grasp painfully and continued dragging Percy down dark, cracked hallways.

Percy stumbled when Luke stopped in front of an open door and threw him in roughly. His knees cracked on the stony ground, and he scrambled back to his feet with a pained wince.

“Here we are,” Luke said. “Your humble abode—at least for now. You’ll be given better accommodations eventually. Something more fitting for your status. We just had to get you away from that treacherous god.”

Percy took in the dark, crumbling walls of the empty room—no windows, no furniture—just black marble and a pair of shackles hammered into the far wall.

Percy took a step back at the sight of the shackles, running right into Luke’s chest. Luke wrapped his hands around Percy’s upper arms, keeping him in place.

“Now, now, none of that. The chains are just to make sure you stay where you’re supposed to be. They won’t stop you from having your visions, don’t worry.”

Percy struggled in vain as Luke pushed him across the room and forced his wrists into the cold black metal.

Percy cried out as soon as the shackles closed around his wrists, yanking and twisting desperately.

“Please, Luke,” Percy begged as he pulled the shackles taut and they refused to budge. “Don’t—don’t do this…you don’t need the shackles. I c—I can’t escape even without them, you know that. Please, don’t…”

“It’s just a precaution, Percy. I know exactly how resourceful you are—best not to take any chances.” Luke smiled with no warmth, his blue eyes cold and dark in the low light. “Someone will be by soon with food and water.”

The door swung shut and the entire room was shrouded in darkness. Those fuckers hadn’t even given him a lamp or a torch—they were just going to leave him in complete darkness for the entire time he was here, apparently.

Percy gave the shackles another futile tug, slumping against the wall when they didn’t so much as budge. 

They’d given him some slack, at least. He could make it maybe halfway to the door before the chains snapped taut.

Not enough to do anything. Not enough to get free.

A single shudder wracked through his body.

The cold was crawling back into his veins, creeping its way up his spine.

Percy curled up as tight as he could on the ground in an effort to preserve as much body heat as he could.

Percy couldn’t tell if he’d fallen asleep or if his mind had floated, but eventually he opened his eyes to an underwater shipwreck.

Odd.

Why would his dreams take him here?

A flash of white in the corner of his eye had his head turning, and Percy grinned as he spotted three hippocampi zipping through the dark water.

His grin faded when he noticed how agitated they were, pushing himself forward to see what they were crowding around anxiously.

A sea creature lay trapped in a fisherman’s net, thrashing desperately but unable to free itself. The hippocampi were fluttering around, but their hooves weren’t exactly built for untangling nets—that generally required fingers, Percy had discovered.

He saw a writhing tail, almost like a serpent’s tail, and drew closer. 

Had the hippocampi stumbled upon a trapped sea serpent?

A flash of wide brown eyes had him stopping in his tracks. Was that…

The face of a young calf stared back at him, crying out sadly for help.

The front half of a bull, the back half of a serpent.

Mother of—this was the creature Thorn had mentioned on the cliff during their confrontation. The most important monster of all—the one that would bring about the downfall of Olympus.

Percy had assumed the manticore had meant something like Typhon or even an ancient sea monster, but clearly he’d been wrong.

The monster wasn’t important because it was powerful, but because it could give someone unimaginable power.

This was the monster Artemis was searching for, and Percy’s dreams had led him right to it.

Fuck.

Percy’s father needed to know—

Within one instant and the next, the shipwreck disappeared, and Percy found himself in an underwater coral garden. It was breathtaking, intricate coral statues of all colors were dotted around a white marble path. Some of them were glowing in the same way the coral in cabin three glowed, bathing the entire garden in warm light.

Percy wandered along the path absentmindedly, unsure why his dreams had brought him here.

He stopped as he caught sight of a marble statue sitting in the junction of the path. The statue was carved into two distinct figures in full color, and Percy recognized the man at once.

That was…that was his father. Powerful and mighty, a carved trident clutched in one hand and the other resting on the shoulder of the figure beside him. The woman next to him could only be his wife, the goddess of the seas Amphitrite. 

She was beautiful—though he was sure the marble didn’t do her justice—staring out over the garden with a serene but powerful expression.

Had Percy brought himself here just by thinking of his father? Did that mean Poseidon was somewhere in this garden?

As if the thought had summoned him, Percy heard raised voices coming from down one of the pathways.

Barely a thought had his noncorporeal body speeding down the marble in an effort to catch the speakers.

He rounded a corner and caught sight of Poseidon himself locked in a heated discussion with two people. One was clearly Amphitrite—and Percy had been right that the marble didn’t do her justice—standing with her arms folded in front of her chest and a stern expression on her face. Her dark hair was pulled back from her face by a silk net dotted with pearls, and a circlet of polished crab’s claws rested across her brow. She was wearing a flowing green chiton clasped with more crab’s claws and staring up at Percy’s father with luminous eyes.

The second person was a merman with two tails and green skin. His dark hair was plaited tightly down his spine—a warrior’s plait, to keep hair from getting in the way during battle. Percy paused when he caught sight of the merman’s face, noting its similarity to Poseidon’s—and, as a result, Percy’s own.

A conch shell hung from the merman’s belt.

Ah. That would make the merman Triton, Poseidon and Amphitrite’s eldest immortal child.

Both Triton and Amphitrite seemed to be quite cross with Poseidon, arguing intently with the god of the seas.

“—an overreaction,” Amphitrite was saying as Percy wandered close enough to make out words. 

“He’s just one demigod, Father, it's unreasonable to—”

“He is my son, Triton,” Poseidon bit out. “He is my son, and he has been taken. I will not sit down in this palace and do nothing while Mother knows what is happening to him.”

Oh. 

Oh.

They were—they were arguing about Percy.

“He is not dead, my husband,” Amphitrite soothed. “He lives still. Surely the camp will send out scouts to bring him back, not even Dionysus would leave your son in the hands of the Titans.”

Poseidon snorted but raised a contemplative hand to his jaw. “You’re right. Perhaps a visit to the camp is in order, just to make sure.”

“Father—”

“Poseidon—”

“For twelve years, I could do nothing for him. I couldn’t even check on him for fear that he would face my brothers’ wrath. I cannot—I will not do nothing again. I will do whatever is in my power to help my son.”

Amphitrite sighed, a warm resignation flashing through her glowing eyes. “At least try not to drown anyone else while you’re there. And…maybe cut back on the storms battering the entirety of the east and west coasts.”

Poseidon huffed but acquiesced with a wave of his hand.

Sensing the conversation was over, Amphitrite and Triton disappeared down one of the pathways, sending a few concerned glances over their shoulders but leaving the brooding sea god to himself.

“Storms up and down the coasts, Dad? Really?” Percy couldn’t help saying it even though he was sure Poseidon wouldn’t hear him.

He almost startled right out of his skin when the god spun around at the sound of his voice, locking eyes on Percy’s—usually completely invisible—form.

“Perseus?”

“Uhhh, hi?” Percy was still too shocked to really respond—no one but Kronos and Apollo, and kind of Lee, had ever noticed Percy in his dreams before.

He hadn’t expected Poseidon to be able to hear him, let alone see him.

“Perseus, what—how—are you…” Poseidon strode forward, raking his eyes over Percy’s dream self and stopping when he realized Percy wasn’t really there. “You’re dreaming.”

“Ah, yeah, sorry. I didn’t really—I mean, I was dreaming something else and then I needed to talk to you and—and then I was here.” Percy rambled, somewhat unnerved by the weight of his father’s gaze.

“Are you alright? I know you were captured but I haven’t been able to—they are hiding you from my sight. And now with Apollo…”

“I’m—I’ve been better,” Percy admitted. “But I’ll live.”

“What did they do to you?” Poseidon asked, his voice dark with the promise of retribution against any who dared lay a hand on his son.

Percy felt strangely comforted by the prospect of his father’s godly rage—protecting him, avenging him.

“I…they—tricked me under the sky,” Percy told his father.

Poseidon’s eyes blazed with storms, and Percy had no doubt that several hurricanes were sprouting up in the Atlantic.

“They what?”

“It’s okay, I’m not—Apollo took it for me…he saved my life, I think, I wouldn’t have lasted much longer. And I keep getting really cold, I don’t know why, but I’m—I’m alive.”

Poseidon took a deep breath. “A fact I am immensely grateful for, my son. But still, to put a child of the sea—my child, no less—under the sky…”

Percy frowned, looking up into his father’s stormy eyes. “Apollo said something like that, too. About it not being good for a child of the sea to touch the sky.”

“The sky and the sea are too different,” Poseidon explained. “For a part of one to touch the pure manifestation of the other like you did…the sky would’ve tried to purge the sea from your veins. But you are my son, the sea cannot be erased from you. To do so would’ve killed you.”

“Oh,” Percy thought back to how close to death he’d felt in his last minutes under the sky. The way he’d reached out to the ocean in his blood for help and it had only gotten worse. “Is that why I’m so cold?”

“Most likely, yes. It will fade with time, I’m sure—though, Apollo would be the one to ask—and the ocean would help, undoubtedly. You will have to—to visit, when this is all over.” Poseidon looked awkward, and Percy blinked as he realized Poseidon was inviting him down to Atlantis for the first time.

“I—here? You—you want me to visit Atlantis?”

“It would do you some good, I feel. And I would…like to—to spend more time with you, to get to know you as I would’ve had I been allowed to acknowledge you as a child.”

Percy beamed up at his father, happier than he’d been in weeks at the prospect of getting to visit his father’s underwater kingdom. 

“I’d love to, Dad.” He paused then as a thought occurred to him. “Will your—I mean, will they—” Percy nodded his head in the direction Poseidon’s immortal family had wandered off in.

Poseidon grimaced slightly. “Triton will be…difficult,” the god admitted. “But Amphitrite is not nearly so averse to my demigod children as most expect—she is certainly nowhere near my sister’s level. We have an understanding, my wife and I. She does not begrudge me my…” Poseidon looked away, clearing his throat uncomfortably before continuing. “On the condition that I inform her and afford her the same grace should she take a mortal lover.”

Percy blinked. “That…sounds like a surprisingly healthy marriage.”

Poseidon chuckled softly. “It is. Certainly much better than my fool younger brother and his wife’s.”

“Not like that’s hard,” Percy snorted.

Poseidon threw his head back with a bark of laughter that echoed through the water.

Percy grinned, glad that he’d managed to disperse his father’s brooding in the time they’d been talking. He was happy his dream had brought him here—

“The Ophiotaurus,” Percy burst out as he remembered why he’d needed to talk to his father in the first place.

“What about it?” Poseidon asked, tilting his head. 

“It—my dream before this—why I needed to talk to you. It’s been reborn,” Percy told his dad. “Thorn was talking about it on the cliff before I got taken. He said the most important monster of all had been reawakened—the one that would bring about the downfall of Olympus. And then I had this dream, and it was trapped in this net by an abandoned shipwreck—”

“You found the Ophiotaurus? The beast whose entrails are prophesied to give someone the power to overthrow Olympus?” Poseidon’s voice was serious.

“You have to help him, Dad. He was stuck in this net and the hippocampi were trying to get him out, but they couldn’t—and he’s just a baby. You have to help him, Dad, please.”

Percy turned on his begging face in full effect—his mother had never managed to say no to him when he used it, which was why it was used sparingly, and he had a feeling his father would crack just like she did.

“He’s a sea creature, Dad. You have to protect him.”

Poseidon gave a long-suffering sigh, and Percy knew he had him.

“I don’t suppose you have more information on the Ophiotaurus’s whereabouts than an underwater shipwreck.”

Percy rattled off the coordinates easily, surprised his perfect bearings extended to dream vision but deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“Only you, my son, would discover a dangerous monster while you yourself are in the hands of the Titans and find a way to protect the beast.”

“Can’t exactly do much else,” Percy said wryly. “Might as well be useful in my dreams.”

Poseidon shook his head ruefully and opened his mouth to respond, but Percy was already gone.

The cell was still shrouded in darkness.

The cold had come back with a vengeance, freezing over his bones and numbing his fingers once more.

The shackles were practically burning his wrists with how cold the metal was, digging into his skin painfully.

Percy curled into an even tighter ball, shivers wracking through his entire body as he tried in vain to warm himself up.

Percy longed for the blessed numbness from when he left his body, but every time he thought about it he reminded himself of Apollo’s words.

Leaving his body like that when he was in such bad condition could kill him.

So, Percy tried to remain rooted firmly in his own skin, dragging his consciousness back desperately every time it tried to float.

It was painful, and it sucked, but he did it. He refused to die shackled in some pitch-black cell. He just needed to make it a couple more days and then the quest would make it—Lee was coming, Lee would save him.

Percy had no idea how much time had passed before a burst of light assaulted his eyes.

He flinched back with a tired groan, unable to do much more than that.

The door had been opened, Percy realized when he caught the sound of footsteps coming his way, spilling light across the floor.

Whoever it was dropped something on the ground near Percy with a loud clang! that had him wincing.

“Eat,” the voice was unfamiliar, and only moments later the footsteps receded. The door shut before Percy could do anything more than lift his head up, trapping him in darkness again.

He flung an arm out until his trembling fingers brushed up against a metal tray.

Food.

Water.

Percy couldn’t muster up the energy to eat what he guessed—based on what he felt when he ran his hands over the contents of the tray—was a sandwich and a bag of chips. He did, however, manage to get his shaky fingers to uncap the bottle of water and lift his head enough to chug the whole thing.

Then he curled up in another ball and, mercifully, fell back asleep.

Percy’s dreams showed him more darkness, endless hallways with snarling monsters hidden around the corners. 

Clarisse stumbled through a door, slamming it shut behind her. Her hair was choppy and uneven, as though it had been hacked through carelessly with a knife, and blood dripped from a cut above her eye. She didn’t even pause to catch her breath before continuing on.

One corridor over, Chris Rodriguez staggered through the darkness, stumbling over cracks and leaving smears of blood along the dirty brick walls.

They missed each other by one turn, neither of them hearing Percy’s desperate calls.

The walls shifted, furthering the distance between them until there was no hope of them crossing paths again.

Percy startled awake when the door opened again, turning his face away from the harsh light that spilled through the open door. The tray from before was picked up, and another metal tray was dropped next to his curled up form.

This time, Percy couldn’t even force his hands to move so he could drink the water. His fingers were too numb, his muscles too tired.

His eyes slipped shut again.

Percy’s visions were fractured—flashes of things he could barely make out before they were gone. Artemis kneeling in the desert, a giant arena lined with skulls, a golden skinned roaring lion, an oasis of trees with glistening wind chimes dangling from the branches.

His eyes fluttered open at the touch of a hand on his forehead, sending colonies of ants crawling over his skin.

Luke Castellan crouched above him, blue eyes dark as he appraised Percy’s condition.

Luke turned away, saying something incomprehensible over his shoulder. His lips were set in a hard line when he glanced back.

A weak shiver wracked through Percy’s body.

By the gods, he was so cold. The warmth from Apollo was nothing but a memory now, and Percy ached at the loss.

Something pressed against his lips, and Percy’s eyes shot open—when had they shut? He didn’t remember shutting them.

Luke was still there, holding a water bottle up to his lips, and Percy’s head had been propped up so he could drink—he’d missed that happening too, apparently.

Percy drank the water greedily, almost crying at the way the water soothed over the worst of the chill in his veins until he could actually feel the tips of his fingers again.

Percy expected to be left alone as soon as the water was gone, but Luke just set down the empty water bottle and brought something else to his lips.

Percy jerked his head away weakly, but Luke persisted until Percy opened his mouth.

Bread touched his tongue, and then ham and cheese—a sandwich. Percy could barely remember the last thing he’d eaten—an energy bar before Westover Hall, and how long ago had that been?

How long had Percy been here?

Luke forced a couple more bites down Percy’s throat before deeming him fed enough and letting Percy’s head drop back down onto the cold marble.

A weak whine left Percy’s chest as the miniscule warmth from Luke’s hands left him.

Percy reached out with a trembling hand as Luke moved to get up, clutching his wrist tightly in near unresponsive fingers.

Words spilled forth unbidden, forced out of frostbitten lungs and numb lips. He barely recognized the voice he spoke in—not the hissing, raspy voice of the Oracle of Delphi, but whispering and soft, layered with something ancient and powerful that echoed into the dark cell.

In the endless darkness vengeance will be sworn,

And with an oath the final piece shall form.

A blessing given, a life forsaken,

The sleeping beast shall soon awaken.

A cursed river to hold your breath,

And what you become will be worse than death.

Luke reeled back like Percy had struck him in the face, his blue eyes glowing in the dim light as his face twisted in horror.

Percy slumped back on the ground, his energy spent.

Huh. Guess he could give prophecies. He’d have to tell Apollo next time he saw him.

Luke retreated as fast as his feet could take him, slamming the door shut and leaving Percy in darkness again.

The chains rattled as Percy curled back into a ball, his eyes slipping shut as he fell asleep once more.

A beautiful garden formed around him, bathed in the warm light of the sunset. Flowers of all colors spread across the earth, glowing in the evening sun. A path of black stones curved around either side of a gigantic apple tree, every bough glittering with apples that looked like they were made of solid gold.

A slumbering dragon lay curled around the trunk—coppery scales glinting as one hundred heads formed one big sleeping mound on the grass. 

A lone figure stood in silence in front of the giant tree, her silver hunting gear gleaming in the dusk. Dark hair was plaited tightly down her back, and a bow and quiver were slung over her shoulder.

Percy furrowed his eyebrows, tilting his head slightly as he took in the mystical garden.

This didn’t feel like one of his typical dreams. The edges were blurred and he felt, almost, as if he were looking through someone else’s eyes.

Percy wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was positive he was in someone else’s dream.

He stepped forward until he stood next to the silent figure.

“Do you dream of this place often?”

Zoë Nightshade was too well-trained to startle—she’d likely heard him as soon as he took the first step towards her—simply cocking her head in his direction and sneering as she recognized him. “The boy who fell off of the cliff. What are—”

“Dreaming, same as you. Not sure why I’ve hopped into your dream, though. Never really done that before.”

“And yet, thou does not seem surprised.” Zoë seemed too tired to do much more than glare at him.

Percy shrugged, tilting his head back to look at the glittering apples. “My dreams are always weird. I’ve learned to just roll with it, at this point.”

Zoë opened her mouth to speak—likely some scathing insult about Percy’s gender—before stopping as her eyes flicked down to Percy’s pocket. “What…how—”

Percy looked down, pulling out Riptide—the only thing in his pocket—with a curious frown. 

How had Zoë known it was there?

The Huntress reeled back like the sight of the pen physically hurt her. “How did thou get that sword?”

“I—Chiron gave it to me before my first quest. He said it was a gift from my father, and that it had a long and tragic—”

Percy stopped as he put the pieces together. “This is the sword you gave him. This is your sword.”

He’d seen pieces of Zoë’s history in his dreams before, but he’d never gotten a glimpse of the weapon she’d gifted to the hero she had gotten exiled from the garden for helping.

She heaved a deep sigh. “A gift from my mother, Pleione.”

“The Oceanid,” Percy remembered.

“Yes, that is likely how it ended up in thy father’s hands. The ocean’s power is within it. My immortal power.”

Percy glanced down at the ballpoint pen resting in his palm. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry.”

“It is like thou said, boy. Thou didn’t know,” Zoë grimaced like it pained her not to be mad at him for wielding Anaklusmos.

“Anaklusmos is likely why thou hast been able to, ah, ‘hop’ into my dream, as thou said. The sword and I are still connected, even after all these years.”

“You should take it back,” Percy said, though his heart hurt at the prospect.

Zoë blinked in surprise. “Thou would hand over thy weapon, just like that?”

“It’s yours,” Percy shrugged. “It’s always been yours. You should have it.”

Zoë’s dark eyes appraised him for a long moment. “I…appreciate the offer, boy. But I have no need of Anaklusmos these days. Better for the sword to lie in the hands of one who would use it.”

Percy tucked the pen back into his pocket, a rush of relief that he wouldn’t have to find a new weapon—as much as he believed the sword belonged to Zoë, he really hadn’t wanted to part with it.

A strangely comfortable silence blanketed the two of them before Percy spoke again. 

He wasn’t sure why he had come here, if it really was Anaklusmos’s connection to Zoë or something else, but he knew—somehow—what he needed to say.

“Do you know what awaits you at the end of this path? Do you know who awaits you?”

She inhaled sharply through her nose, pain and grief flashing through her dark eyes.

“Few face their fate with such acceptance. You are greater than most—greater than him, without a doubt.”

“How does thou know—”

“I know a lot of things. I see a lot of things.”

Zoë’s face flashed with realization. “Ah. I had wondered how Apollo had managed to get captured so quickly. Now I know…he was searching for his prophet.”

Percy smiled, dipping his head slightly. “Guilty. I did try to warn him, but…”

“He never listens,” Zoë snorted. “Not even my lady can get him to stop doing something he’s decided upon.”

Percy marveled for a moment at Zoë’s determination and loyalty to Lady Artemis—traveling across the country on a quest she knew she wouldn’t survive in an effort to save Artemis’s twin brother.

“Do not grieve too much for the people you leave behind. You will not be gone from their sight. Your lady will elevate you to a place of reverence few have ever been lifted to.” Percy raised his face to the sky, his eyes picking out an unfamiliar constellation that he knew did not exist in the sky as of yet.

Zoë left out a soft gasp as she took in the shape of the stars, awe and wonder overcoming her expression.

“And do not let what happens in the desert haunt you. Some fates are spun too tightly to be changed.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What—”

“I’ll see you on the mountaintop, Zoë Nightshade.”

The Lieutenant of the Hunt faded away with the Garden of the Hesperides as Percy jolted back into wakefulness.

Chapter Text

The morning of the quest dawned bright and chilly. The sunlight glared off of the glistening snow but offered little heat—as if Apollo’s capture had robbed the sun of all its heat and left it cold and dreary.

Lee’s siblings rose with the dawn—as all of Apollo’s children did—and crowded around him to see him off.

“You’ll be careful?” Will asked into Lee’s shoulder as the boy wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I’ll be careful,” Lee promised. “I’ll be back in a couple days; Michael’s in charge until then. Michael, I’m trusting you not to burn down the whole cabin, yeah?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Whatever, just go rescue Dad already.”

“And your boyfriend!” Kayla piped up with a smirk.

Lee’s ears pinked, but he didn’t respond to Kayla’s jest otherwise—telling them that he and Percy weren’t together just made things worse, so he’d learned to ignore their lighthearted teasing.

Sometimes he wondered if Percy Jackson was the only person in the world that had no idea that Lee was head over heels for him, because it certainly seemed like everybody Lee talked to mentioned it to him.

Even Clarisse had said something last time she was in camp, for gods’ sakes.

Lee slipped out the door, pausing on the porch steps as a familiar sensation touched his senses. Armor settling on his shoulders, olives on his tongue, pages under his fingers.

He looked around but couldn’t see anybody. Lee rolled his eyes and spoke into the empty field.

“Good morning, Annabeth.”

A low grumble came from somewhere to his left, and Annabeth appeared a moment later with her Yankees cap in hand and a disgruntled look on her face.

“How do you always know I’m there?”

“You give off an aura,” Lee said with a shrug.

Annabeth’s quiet curse told Lee that she’d forgotten that little detail about him. She leaned up against the porch railing, setting her cane down beside her and propping her injured leg in front of her.

“How’s the leg?”

“Better, Will says as long as I’m careful and I do all my physical therapy I should make a full recovery. It could’ve been a lot worse.”

“Still sucks though. You’ll be benched for months, I bet,” Lee said.

Annabeth frowned. “Don’t remind me. I want to go on this quest more than anything, Lee. Percy—”

“I know.”

Annabeth leveled him with a heavy look, her gray eyes locking onto his own blue. “Yeah, I think you do.”

Lee kept her gaze, refusing to blink until she seemed to see something that satisfied her.

“Bring him home, Lee.”

She passed something small to him and he looked down curiously.

Lee’s heart panged in his chest as he took in the small sun earring laying in his palm.

One of Percy’s earrings—half of one of his favorite pairs, because they matched so well with his necklace from Apollo.

“I couldn’t find the other one, but…”

“I’ll give it to him,” Lee promised. “I’ll bring him home.”

Annabeth nodded, taking up her cane and starting to limp slowly back to her cabin.

Lee watched her leave, slipping Percy’s earring into his pocket with another silent promise to reunite it with its twin in a couple days, and then started making his own way to the Big House.

The night before, the questers had argued for a good half hour about the best method of transportation. Zoë had argued that she was an incredibly capable driver and thus they should take one of the camp vans and they’d make quick time of the cross-country trip. Thalia had been amenable to that idea, but Lee and Silena had both been rather adamant that the fastest way was by pegasi. 

They’d been overruled because Bianca had reminded them that she’d never even ridden a horse before, let alone a flying horse, and Chiron informed them that the storms battering the coast and reaching further inland would make flying for so long dangerous.

So, they agreed to go by van, even though Lee knew neither him nor Silena were happy about it. The fastest pegasi in the stables could reach the west coast in under ten hours, while a van would take them almost two full days—and that was without considering monster attacks and other distractions that would cost them time.

Silena caught up with him right as Lee reached the steps of the Big House, her backpack slung over her shoulder.

She looked nervous but determined, her fingers drumming on the bronze short sword strapped to her thigh.

“You ready?” Silena asked.

“Ready as I can be, I guess.” Lee checked his quiver over one more time, his nerves finally catching up to him.

“We’ll get him back,” Silena said firmly. “And then we’ll never let him out of our sight again.”

Lee cracked a smile at that, Silena’s confidence leaking into him. He leaned against her shoulder, savoring the scent of light perfume and the feeling of rose petals brushing up against him, thorns pricking his fingers and dove’s wings curling over his shoulders, from his friend’s aura.

The other three quest members were already waiting on the porch for them, and Zoë clucked her tongue impatiently as they finally made it up the steps.

“Finally.”

Lee rolled his eyes and didn’t bother responding to the Hunter. He and the other two campers on the quest shared a commiserating glance as Zoë stomped ahead of them to the van.

Given how tense relations were between the campers and the Hunters, Lee knew that this quest was going to be…interesting, to say the least.

At least Thalia seemed more interested in arguing with Zoë than glaring at Lee, so he had a temporary respite from her scowls.

He crammed himself into the back of the van and Silena slipped in next to him.

They spent the first hour of the quest arguing about which interstate to take and which way would be fastest, pouring over the gigantic map they’d found in one of the seat pockets.

“The I80 is the obvious—”

“Clearly you haven’t been paying attention to the weather,” Thalia interrupted Zoë tightly. “We’ll be driving through a massive storm if we get straight on the I80, it’s best to go down first and then curve back up using the I70 and I65.”

“That would add too much time to our journey—”

“So would crashing on the side of the highway because you couldn’t see where you were going,” Silena said. “That storm is one of the reasons we decided against flying pegasi, it’s best to avoid it as much as we can.”

Zoë growled, but he saw her eyes flick up to the dark sky above her and knew she was just as apprehensive of the weather as they were.

Needless to say, Poseidon hadn’t been taking what had happened to Percy well, and the entire country was feeling the effects.

They were nearly all the way through Manhattan before they agreed to angle down to avoid the storm before curving back up. It would add more time to their journey, but they’d be at less of a risk for crashing the van.

The next several hours were silent, a blanket of tension laying across the entire van.

Lee leaned his head up against the window and stared out at the countryside flitting past, letting Silena doodle mindlessly on his hand.

They made it almost five hours before somebody broke, and Lee was just glad it wasn’t him.

“Alright, that’s it. I need out of this van.” Thalia said. “Find a gas station or something so we can stretch our legs before I start murdering someone.”

Lee snorted but couldn’t deny that he was rapidly reaching that point himself. His legs had been bouncing up and down for the past hour, and he and Silena had resorted to having thumb wars with each other in their boredom.

Zoë rolled her eyes but exited the interstate. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem too used to driving in big cities with construction everywhere, and twenty minutes later they were completely turned around.

“How did you get lost when literally all you had to do was exit and pull into a gas station on the side of the interstate?” Thalia asked incredulously, staring out at the parking lot they’d found themselves in.

Zoë glared at her through the rearview mirror. “We are not lost.”

“We’re totally lost,” Silena said. “We’re in the middle of DC, which we’d planned to skirt around entirely, and we have no idea which way to go to get back to the interstate.”

“Can we at least get out of the van while we argue about which way to go?” Lee asked. “I’d rather not stay cramped against the window while we all shout at each other.”

Thalia grunted, popping open the door and hopping out into the parking lot.

They spent fifteen minutes walking around and stretching their legs before reconvening at the front of the van. Bianca spread out the giant map on the hood and they huddled around it, trying to figure out the best way back to the interstate.

Drops of rain landed on Lee’s skin and he twitched, looking up at the sky. The sky above him was relatively clear though, which meant…

How did you guys manage to get so far off track? All you had to do was take the I80 all the way west.

Percy’s voice echoed close to Lee’s ear, and he repressed a shiver. 

“Oh, shut up,” Lee whispered. He turned away from the group, letting them continue to argue without him, and took a couple steps away so he could talk without them thinking he was crazy. “We would’ve taken the I80 if not for the fact that someone’s godly father is going on a rampage because someone got themselves thrown off a cliff and captured and now storms are ravaging the entire country.”

Lee raised an eyebrow at the silence that followed his words, practically able to feel Percy’s sheepish expression.

Ah. Yes, well, I did tell him to lessen up on the storms. He’s just being grumpy.

“Only you could call the god of the seas grumpy and get away with it.”

The only response then was a light giggle, and Lee’s heart gave a soft pang at the sound.

“Are you alright?” Lee whispered. “I didn’t get a chance to ask last time.”

As well as I can be, given the situation. 

“That’s not an answer, Percy,” Lee frowned.

I’m…alive. Not great, but alive. I’d tell you to hurry, but I know you’re going as fast as you can.

Lee’s fist clenched at Percy’s admittance of his condition. For him to outright say that he wasn’t doing okay…

I’ll be alright. You’ll make it in time.

Percy’s voice was gentle, as if he’d noticed Lee’s reaction.

“Right,” Lee took a deep breath. “We’ll make it. Don’t suppose you have any suggestions on which way to go?”

A low snort reached Lee’s ear.

I’m a New Yorker through and through, dude. I’ve got no clue how to navigate DC. I would, however, recommend that you start running.

“Running?” Lee asked, his eyebrows furrowing. “Why would we start—oh, shit.”

A giant golden skinned lion the size of an armored truck was prowling across the parking lot towards them.

“Lee? Oh, holy—” Silena cursed as she caught sight of the monster rapidly closing the distance between them.

Good luck. And remember, only death can conquer death.

The raindrops pattering his skin faded, and Lee knew that Percy was gone.

“Fucking cryptic ass—” Lee muttered to himself as he slung his bow off his shoulder and nocked an arrow in the span of a second.

“Is that the Nemean lion? What the fuck—”

“Scatter!” Zoë yelled, and they all dove to the side as the monster reached them. The lion slammed straight into the van, crumpling the entire side, and Lee suppressed a wince.

There went their transportation. Great.

The Nemean lion turned with a roar, crouching and leaping in Thalia’s direction. The daughter of Zeus brandished her spear with a yell, and a bolt of lightning slammed into the lion.

The electricity did little more than zap off of its metallic coat, and Lee groaned as he remembered the lion’s skin was impenetrable.

Heracles had strangled the thing, hadn’t he?

Somehow, Lee didn’t think any of them were going to be capable of that.

He fired off an arrow that shattered harmlessly against the lion’s shoulder, cursing in his head when all it did was turn the monster’s attention in Lee’s direction.

Lee rolled to the side with a yelp as the monster leapt his way with a snarl.

“How the fuck do we kill this thing?” Thalia yelled as she approached with her shield held in front of her face.

Lee backpedaled with a grimace at the sight of Medusa’s horrific face hammered into the metal, adjusting his position so he couldn’t see it any longer and nocking another arrow.

The Nemean lion had much the same reaction to the shield as Lee had, retreating with a low growl and swiping at the air as if fending off Medusa’s deadly stare with its claws.

It snapped in Thalia’s direction, and Lee’s eyes narrowed as he caught a glimpse of the pink tongue and throat. Of course, the monster’s skin was impenetrable, but he was willing to bet its mouth wasn’t.

“Aim for its mouth!” Lee shouted to the others, sending another arrow flying for the lion’s vulnerable tongue.

Almost as if the lion understood Lee’s words, its mouth snapped shut right in time for a slew of arrows to shatter against its lips.

Mother of—

Thalia tried to bait the monster into opening its mouth again, but the lion sent her flying with a swipe of its paws.

It crouched, legs tensing as if intending to pounce on the daughter of Zeus as she scrambled to her feet, but Lee and the two Hunters sent a barrage of arrows its way that had it turning with a snarl.

Lee spotted Silena approaching from the side, her bronze short sword clutched tightly in her hands, and his eyes widened as an idea came to him.

“Silena,” Lee called. “Try and charmspeak it!”

Silena’s charmspeak worked on animals, he knew, but it was harder. She couldn’t do much more than calm them down or stop them from attacking.

Luckily, that was all they really needed her to do.

Silena paused, giving him a slight nod and turning back to the growling monster. When she spoke, her voice echoed through the parking lot. Lee could practically see the ripple of magic that poured out of her mouth—sparking against his skin and buzzing in his ears.

“Calm down. Open your mouth.”

The Nemean lion twitched, but Silena’s voice was too powerful for it to resist—especially when it hadn’t seen her coming.

Lee caught a glimpse of the pinkish underside of the lion’s mouth, and within a matter of seconds half a dozen arrows were lodged in its throat.

The monster gagged, rearing back and whipping its head from side to side as though trying to dislodge the sharp points buried in its mouth.

The Nemean lion dissolved into golden dust, leaving behind nothing but a shimmering golden lion’s pelt—thankfully having shrunk down to the size of a normal lion.

“A spoil of war,” Silena muttered hoarsely. Her voice always got a little rough after she put so much power into her charmspeak, Lee remembered, but it was nothing a little water and rest wouldn’t fix.

Zoë picked up the pelt gingerly, holding it between two fingers as though she wanted as little contact with it as possible. “Here.”

Lee started when she tossed it to him. “Me? But I wasn’t—it was Silena’s charmspeak that did it. And I wasn’t the only one that shot it, either.”

Silena snorted, “I wouldn’t be caught dead in that. And it was your idea for me to use my charmspeak. You should have it.”

The two Hunters nodded, and Lee frowned contemplatively at the lion’s skin in his hands. As though sensing his thoughts, the spoil of war melted into a more modern form.

Soon, the lion’s skin had morphed into a golden-brown coat—still not exactly Lee’s style, but certainly better than the lion’s skin.

The five of them spent more time than any of them wanted to digging their things out of their wrecked van. Lee kept glancing over his shoulder as they discussed their next move.

Percy had told them to run. He could’ve been talking about the Nemean lion, but…

And then there was the son of Poseidon’s parting comment.

Only death can conquer death.

That couldn’t have been referring to the Nemean lion encounter, so what did it mean?

A strange chill swept over Lee’s arms, and he tensed.

The feeling was somewhat familiar, though he hadn’t felt it in several months—since Tantalus had been drowned on dry land by Percy’s father.

The chill of the dead.

Lee whipped his head around, narrowing his eyes as he spotted four figures stalking towards them from across the parking lot. Their skin was a translucent gray, flickering in and out of sight every other second to show the skeleton underneath.

“Uhhh, whatever we’re gonna do, we should probably get going.” Lee pointed to the undead making their way across the asphalt.

Zoë gasped, her dark eyes wide as she took in the creatures. “Spartoi. But that’s…the boy is right. We must make haste.”

“This way,” Bianca said confidently, sprinting out of the parking lot and leaving them no choice but to follow.

“Where are we going?” Silena asked as they ducked out of an alley onto a busy street.

“Just follow me.”

Bianca led them down a series of streets before going down a set of stairs. Lee blinked as they emerged in a crowded subway station.

“A subway,” Thalia breathed. “We can catch one and get out of the city. How’d you know this was here, Bianca?”

Bianca blushed. “Nico and I passed through here on our way up to Westover, I wasn’t quite sure where we were at first, but I knew there was a subway entrance on practically every corner so I just…”

“It was a good idea,” Silena smiled. “Let’s go before those creatures catch up with us, though.”

They hopped over the turnstiles and squeezed onto a westbound train, and Lee relaxed when the train left the station without any undead monsters boarding.

“What were those things?” Thalia asked several minutes into the ride once they were sure no monsters had made it onto the train with them.

“Spartoi,” Zoë told them grimly. “Undead warriors summoned by sowing drakon’s teeth into the soil. They are nigh unkillable, and once they catch a scent, they will track the person to the ends of the earth.”

“Great,” Silena muttered. “So, they’ll keep finding us no matter how fast we go.”

“I’m afraid so. And as we have no idea which of us they’re tracking…”

“We’ll just keep moving. Maybe we can stay ahead of them long enough to think of a way to kill them,” Thalia said.

“Only death can conquer death,” Lee murmured.

Zoë cocked an eyebrow at him. “What was that?”

“Only death can conquer death,” Lee repeated. “I was—before the attack—I was talking to…and he said ‘only death can conquer death.’”

“Apollo spoke to you again?” Zoë asked.

“I—I heard his voice, yes.”

“As nice as that is, his cryptic warning doesn’t really help us much,” Thalia snorted. 

“Maybe it does,” Lee said, his eyes flicking up to Bianca di Angelo. “The spartoi are undead warriors. Maybe they can only be killed by something else from the Underworld.”

Bianca shifted uncomfortably under Lee’s gaze. “What do you mean by that?”

“Your father.”

Bianca reeled back. “My father? But I thought—we don’t know who my godly parent is.”

Lee grimaced as the others turned to him, suspicion gleaming in their eyes.

“Lee?” Silena asked cautiously. “Do you know—”

“Yeah,” Lee admitted. “I’ve known since you arrived in camp.”

A small lie. He’d known since Percy had Iris-Messaged him and told him he’d seen the children of Hades in his dreams again.

“It was a little obvious.”

“It was?” Bianca asked.

“You give off an aura,” Lee said. “Like…shadows. Cold, coiling darkness wrapping around my limbs. Not a lot of gods would give you that feeling.”

“An aura?” Zoë furrowed her eyebrows. “What does that—”

“Oh,” Thalia’s eyes flickered with understanding. “Like…” 

She trailed off, clacking her mouth shut.

“Like?” Bianca asked.

“Nothing,” Thalia said. “Just…not the first person I’ve heard of with something like that.”

Hmmm. Percy must’ve said something to her—the son of Poseidon was the only other person Thalia could’ve been referring to.

But Lee hadn’t thought they were close enough for that. Percy kept his secrets clutched so close to his chest that sometimes Lee wondered how he managed to breathe at all.

“It’s not very common,” Lee said. “And I don’t exactly broadcast it, but it comes in handy for some things.”

“Like figuring out people’s parentage,” Bianca said. “So, my father…”

“The god of the dead,” Lee told her. “The Lord of the Underworld.”

Zoë stiffened. “Impossible. The oath—”

“Has been broken before,” Lee reminded her with a meaningful glance at Thalia. “More than once, in fact. It’s not a stretch to believe that all three of them have broken it.”

Another lie. Bianca and Nico had been born before the oath, according to Percy, but there was no way for Lee to tell them that without exposing Percy’s biggest secret.

“I felt his aura on Olympus once, on the winter solstice. It’s almost identical to Bianca’s. There’s no way she and Nico aren’t his kids.”

The group was silent for a moment before Lee spoke again, an apologetic note in his tone. “I didn’t say anything because I wanted to give you two the chance to settle in. Your father isn’t—he’s not exactly the most popular god at camp, and some of the others can be…”

Lee and Silena both grimaced, and he knew they were both thinking of the way the campers had treated Percy when he’d first been claimed. The avoidance, the stares—Lee knew it would be even worse for a child of Hades.

It…well, it probably wouldn’t be unlike the way they’d treated Tyson in the short time he’d spent at camp.

“Would it really have been that bad?” Bianca asked anxiously. “Would—is Nico safe there?”

“I’ll be the first to admit your dad’s not my favorite god, given he’s the reason I spent several years as a pine tree, but we wouldn’t hurt you or Nico just for being his kid. They’ll look at him weird and maybe avoid him, but he’s not in any danger.”

Bianca’s shoulders lost some of their tension, but she still looked nervous. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Thalia clucked her tongue. “And if I find out anyone tried, I’ll fry them. Us Big Three kids gotta watch out for each other since there’s so few of us. By the way, welcome to the family, cuz.”

Bianca flushed but returned Thalia’s grin with one of her own.

“We’ll look out for him, too.” Silena said. “The Aphrodite cabin doesn’t judge people based on parentage.” There was a hidden barb there aimed at Zoë, Lee knew, because the Hunters had a tendency to judge the children of Aphrodite just because their mother was the goddess of love.

“I wouldn’t have kept the knowledge to myself if I didn’t want you and Nico to be safe, regardless of your father,” Lee told her. “And Percy’ll look out for him as well as soon as he’s back at camp.”

“Percy…” Bianca paused. “That’s the boy from the cliff. The one who…”

“Yeah,” Thalia said. “He’s been captured too.”

“And we’re going to get him back when we save my father,” Lee said firmly.

Zoë huffed, but clearly didn’t see the point in arguing against saving Percy when all three campers were dead set on it.

“So, back to the original point, you think Bianca can kill the spartoi?” Silena asked. 

“I think she’s got the best shot out of all of us,” Lee shrugged. “I don’t see what else ‘only death can conquer death’ could mean. Maybe she can kill them or banish them back to the Underworld.”

“Hopefully we can stay far enough ahead of them that we won’t need to fight, but if we do…well, let us hope thy theory is correct. For now, our stop approaches. Let us make haste,” Zoë stood up as the train reached the station.

They hopped trains for several hours, only emerging once the sun had set, and they’d reached the end of the subway line.

“Don’t suppose anyone knows how to hotwire a car?” Lee asked hopefully as they exited the station.

Thalia hummed thoughtfully, but Zoë was squinting off in the direction of the railway.

“I do not think that will be necessary,” the Hunter said. She nodded to a distant figure crouched at the edge of the train tracks.

Lee frowned, cocking his head as he took in the faint silver glow coming from the form. Moonlight danced across his eyelids and fur brushed up against his legs. The fletching of an arrow touched his cheek, and he heard the howling of wolves in the distance.

“Lady Artemis,” Bianca breathed, her eyes lighting up as she recognized the goddess.

“That’s…quite a coincidence,” Thalia raised her eyebrows.

“Quite,” Zoë grinned as she set off for the train tracks.

“My lady,” Zoë greeted warmly.

Artemis looked up from the train tracks she’d been examining, her eyes like pools of liquid moonlight. “Zoë, Bianca, how…fortunate I’ve run into you here, of all places. Not at all intentional.”

Thalia snorted. “Real convincing.”

Artemis turned to face Thalia. “It cannot be intentional, you see. Our father has expressly forbidden direct interference—even from me. He would be most cross if he believed this meeting to be intentional. So, officially, I was tracking the Nemean lion across the states and happened upon the group that managed to take it down for me.”

The corners of Thalia’s mouth twitched up, “I see.”

“And, as thanks for their heroic efforts,” Artemis continued lightly. “I believe there is nothing wrong with granting them some aid on their own journey.”

The goddess nodded toward one of the freight trains on the tracks, and Lee narrowed his eyes to read the glowing silver words printed on the side. 

Moonlight Express.

Subtle.

“It’s not much,” Artemis admitted. “And it will only go so long as the moon is in the sky, but it will get you a significant portion of the way across the states.”

“And that doesn’t count as direct interference?” Silena asked, somewhat incredulously.

“Not when it is a gift to repay aid given to me. I would not see you go unrewarded for aiding me in killing the Nemean lion.” Artemis grinned impishly before it faded into a serious expression. “Accept my reward, heroes, and save my foolish twin.”

The goddess took Zoë and Bianca to the side, speaking to them quietly for a few moments before Artemis raced off into the night.

They snuck onto the train quickly, finding the inside full of luxury cars, and separated tiredly with barely a word to each other. Thalia jumped into a black Mercedes and started messing with the radio, and the two Hunters ducked inside a Lexus with each other.

Lee and Silena crashed in one of the bigger cars, stretching out on the seats in silence.

“The voice you keep hearing,” Silena said eventually. “Is it really Apollo? Or is it…”

“It’s Percy,” Lee admitted. “I don’t know how he’s doing it, but he keeps visiting in his dreams and I can hear him when he does.”

Silena let out a heavy breath, but she didn’t seem surprised. 

“Is he okay?”

“He’s…alive. Wouldn’t tell me much else, but…he told me we’d make it in time.”

“Good,” Silena said. “That’s—that’s good. Gods, I’m gonna give him the lecture of his life when I see him.”

“You and me both,” Lee laughed. “He already knows about the intervention we had planned.”

He jolted at the feeling of rain on his skin.

“Oh, speak of the devil.”

“Huh?”

Talking about me, are you?

Percy’s voice sounded distinctly amused, and Lee found himself flushing.

“Percy’s here,” he told Silena instead of responding to Percy.

The daughter of Aphrodite shot up in her seat, her blue eyes looking around the empty car. “He’s here?”

Lee sat up as well, tilting his head as he tried to figure out where Percy’s consciousness was hanging around. 

“Right about there,” he dipped his head toward the end of his row, just past his feet.

“Percy?” Silena’s voice was choked.

Tell her hi for me, would you? And tell her I’m alright, really.

“He says hi,” Lee repeated. “He also said for me to tell you he’s really alright, but I’d like to argue that’s a lie.”

Rude.

“Uh huh,” Lee said. “And how alright are you, then?”

Alright enough. Percy’s voice was petulant. I’m…sleeping a lot. Not really there when I’m awake, but I think they keep waking me up to give me food and water, so…

“That’s something, at least.” Lee said before repeating Percy’s words for Silena.

“The bare minimum,” Silena snorted. “But I’m glad they’re not, like, torturing you or anything.”

Hmmmm, no, no torture here. Just dubious living conditions and questionable food.

“Well, I hope you know you’ll be in for quite the lecture when we rescue you,” Silena said once Lee repeated Percy’s words again.

Oh, gods. Maybe I’ll just ask them to kill me now, save me the disappointing stares.

“Ha ha, very funny. Don’t think you’ll get out of it that easy,” Lee narrowed his eyes in the vague direction Percy’s voice came from. 

Wouldn’t dream of it.

Lee’s ears pinked at the warmth in Percy’s tone.

The rain faded, and Lee slumped back down onto his seat. “He’s gone.”

“Oh,” Silena deflated slightly. “He wasn’t here for very long.”

“Yeah, I don’t think he really controls it. But still, I’m glad he showed up while you were around so you could talk to him, brief as it was.”

Silena hummed, stretching herself out in the backseat again.

Lee curled up in his seat, too tired to do much else, and fell asleep almost instantly.

He wasn’t sure how long he slept, but the moon was just beginning to dip below the horizon when he slipped out of the car, careful not to wake the still slumbering Silena.

Thalia was propped up on the hood of her Mercedes, and Lee hesitated for a moment before going to join her.

“Sleep much?”

“Enough,” Thalia shrugged.

“Hmmph, that’s what Percy says every time I ask, too,” Lee snorted.

Thalia tensed at the mention of Percy, and Lee gave a heavy sigh.

“Look, about what I said at camp…it’s not your fault. That’s just what Percy does. He throws himself in front of his friends like he’s bulletproof. Don’t—I’m sorry I said it was your fault. I was just mad that he wasn’t there, and you were calling him an idiot like…”

Thalia was silent for so long that Lee thought she was just going to ignore him.

“I shouldn’t have called him that. Not while he wasn’t there to insult me back, at least. I was just…angry and—and guilty. If I’d just been faster, if I’d been paying more attention…”

“I get it,” Lee said. “I’d be the same way if he’d jumped in front of me. Just like he’d be if anyone did that for him. He’d tell you you’re an idiot for blaming yourself though.”

Thalia gave a choked laugh. “Oh, definitely.”

Lee drummed his fingers awkwardly on the hood of the car as they fell into silence.

“What’s your deal with Zoë?”

Thalia raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, most campers have issues with the Hunters, yeah, but…this last time was the first time you’ve been at camp while they visited so…”

Thalia sighed, leaning back on her hands. “We ran across them when we were on the run, before Grover arrived to take me to camp.”

“Ah. I’m guessing they tried to recruit you and Annabeth?”

“Annabeth was a little young then, even for them, but they definitely tried to get me. Almost succeeded, too, if it weren’t for…”

Lee frowned for a moment before the realization hit him. “You would’ve had to leave Luke.”

Thalia gave him a strained smile. “Zoë and I got into a huge fight about it. She said I was being a stupid lovestruck little girl, that I’d regret my choice in a couple years. She said Luke would let me down eventually.”

“Oh, yikes.” Lee winced. “Must be hard to admit that she had a point.”

“No, she didn’t,” Thalia snapped. “Luke never let me down. Never.”

Lee drew back, a flash of anger rushing through him. “So, what, you think him turning his back on everyone he ever cared about is fine? Betraying the people he was supposed to watch out for?”

“I don’t—he’s not…”

“He’s not the same person he was when you turned into that pine tree, Thalia. The Luke you knew died that night with you, I think.”

Thalia glared at him, her fingers sparking lightly.

“Would the Luke you knew have poisoned a twelve-year-old kid in the forest and then tried to strangle him? Or cursed a gift to drag that same twelve-year-old into Tartarus?”

Thalia flinched back and Lee slid off the hood of the car. 

“I won’t tell you how to feel about him, I know it’s…but what he’s done,” Lee shook his head. “I won’t forgive what he did to Percy, not ever. And…Percy wouldn’t ever admit it, but I know it hurts him when people try to defend Luke after that bastard almost killed him in cold blood.”

Lee had lost count of the number of times Percy had come to find him, hands trembling and skin pale at the memory of Luke’s hands around his throat, needing a reminder that he’d made it out of the forest—that he hadn’t died in those woods with the hands of someone he’d trusted ripping the breath from his lungs.

He still remembered the way Percy’s face had changed the first time Annabeth had said something about how misguided Luke was—misguided, as if he didn’t choose of his own volition to try and murder Percy in the forest.

Lee left Thalia to stew over his words, returning to his and Silena’s car until the sun peeked over the horizon and the train stopped.

They ducked out of the train car, finding themselves at a train station in the middle of Oklahoma, of all places. They trekked until they reached a small town and Thalia decided to try her luck at hotwiring a car.

She’d been trying for over fifteen minutes when a chill swept over Lee.

“Hey, Thalia?” He called, casting his gaze around their surroundings carefully. “How close are you to getting that thing running?”

“A couple more minutes, maybe,” Thalia grunted. “As long as I’m not interrupted.”

“Unfortunate,” Lee said lightly. “Cause I’m fairly certain we’re about to be.”

Four of the spartoi rounded the corner of the parking lot they were loitering in, and Lee heard the other quest members curse as they spotted them as well.

“Keep working on the car,” Zoë said tightly. “The rest of us will distract the spartoi.”

Lee shot a glance at Bianca, who was clutching her bow nervously.

“You really think I can kill those guys?”

“I think you’re the only shot we’ve got,” Lee said. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll just keep running.”

The spartoi advanced quickly, skeleton grins stretching across their faces as they drew guns from the holsters at their sides. With barely a word to each other, the four fighters spread out.

Lee and Zoë fell back, raining cover fire on the four undead as Silena and Bianca raced forward with short swords and knives in hand.

Silena ducked and rolled around two of them, decapitating one and slicing another directly in half. The warriors collapsed into two piles of bones but almost immediately began knitting themselves back together.

Lee shot a foam arrow at the bones, hoping to stall their reforming.

Bianca lunged for one of the other two spartoi and Lee’s heart skipped a beat as she plunged her dagger straight into its chest. The skeleton fell apart immediately, and all of them watched as even the bones dissolved into dust that scattered in the wind.

Silena whooped loudly at the sight. “Fuck yeah! Go, Bianca!”

The daughter of Hades grinned and lashed out at the second spartoi, felling it in one strike.

Lee’s foam cracked as the remaining two spartoi reassembled angrily. The skeletons didn’t seem to notice or care that their other two buddies had disappeared, lunging forward and clacking their teeth.

Bianca dispatched them with ease, confident now in her ability to make them stay dead. The last spartoi’s ashes were swirling in the wind when Thalia let out a cheer and the car sputtered to life under her fingers.

They piled in, the Hunters taking the front seats and the three campers squeezing in the back.

They drove until they ran out of gas somewhere in New Mexico, trading out their old car for a new one without any trouble and continuing on their way.

They ran out of luck near the border of Arizona when their third car died in an abandoned ghost town in the middle of nowhere.

They searched the entire town top to bottom but couldn’t find a single car or gallon of gas anywhere. 

An enormous junkyard stretched out west of the town, what looked like miles and miles of abandoned junk piled high on top of each other until they looked like mountains.

Lee’s skin buzzed just looking at it, but he couldn’t figure out why the junkyard made him so uneasy.

The sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon when they gave up and decided to camp there for the night and make their way through the junkyard in the morning, hoping that they’d be able to find a car or some other form of transportation amongst the stacks.

Zoë and Bianca pulled out five sleeping bags while Thalia started a fire. As far as nights in an abandoned ghost town could go, it wasn’t half bad.

The night was chilly, but Lee—as the son of Apollo—had always run warmer than pretty much anyone so he wasn’t nearly as affected by the cold as the other questers, who huddled as close to the fire as they could get in their sleeping bags.

They packed up as the first rays of dawn reached their campsite, but Lee tensed as two vaguely familiar sensations brushed up against him.

Blood in his mouth, staining his teeth and caking his hands.

And then, subtler, perfume in his nose and rose petals against his arms, thorns pricking his hands and seafoam bubbling around his toes.

A car appeared on the horizon, speeding toward them. Zoë and Bianca barely had time to backpedal out of the way before a pastel pink limousine cruised to a stop in front of their group.

Silena’s breath caught as the door opened and a mountain of a man climbed out. He was dressed as a stereotypical biker, but red wraparound shades hid the entirety of his eyes.

“Lord Ares,” Silena managed. The god of war didn’t deign her with a response, turning back to the limousine to help the other passenger step out.

Lee had already put together who she was even before she stepped out—the aura was pretty telling, especially considering its similarities to Silena’s—but he still found himself gobsmacked at the sight of her.

Look, Lee didn’t even like women like that, and he was completely lost for words.

Her features were indescribable. Like, literally, Lee had no idea how to describe them. They seemed to shift right before Lee’s eyes, one moment she was brunette with hazel eyes and then dark-skinned with intricate braids and dark eyes and then blonde and then…

Lee noticed that she always seemed to flicker back into black hair and painfully familiar sea-green eyes that sent a sharp pang through his chest.

Her clothes morphed every couple seconds as well. One moment she was dressed in an elegant ball gown and then she had the appearance of an old southern belle and then she was in a pastel sundress.

“Mom,” Silena said breathlessly.

“Oh, hello, Silena dear.” Aphrodite smiled warmly. “I’m so glad I caught you. Come, have breakfast with me, won’t you?”

The goddess of love snapped her fingers and the limousine behind her morphed into a circular table full of every kind of breakfast pastry imaginable and a tray of orange juice and sparkling pink lemonade. Ares stomped several steps away and stood looking out over the desert with crossed arms and a scowl, like he was keeping watch.

“Come, come, sit, all of you.” Aphrodite settled herself in one of the plushy chairs around the table while the rest of them stood in stunned silence.

Silena moved first, sitting tentatively in one of the chairs next to her mother, and Lee followed her lead. 

“I don’t bite, girls,” Aphrodite’s tone was sharper than before, and Thalia and the two Hunters rushed to sit in the other chairs—though Lee could tell it almost physically pained Zoë to be so close to the goddess of love.

“Lady Aphrodite,” the Hunter said stiffly. “To what do we owe the pleasure of this visit?”

“Oh, Ares and I were just in the area, and I simply had to pop by and say hello to my darling, didn’t I?”

Silena blushed as her mother’s attention fell on her and the goddess ran one perfectly manicured hand down Silena’s cheek. Immediately, the dust and grime on Silena vanished and her clothes tidied themselves up.

“Thanks, Mom.”

“It’s nothing, darling. You’ve done quite well so far, my dear. That bit of charmspeak on the Nemean lion was particularly brilliant, if I do say so myself. Oh,” Aphrodite rolled her eyes as she turned back to the two stiff Hunters. “If you’re going to be so contrite just go over there, you’re dampening the mood with your glaring.”

Aphrodite waved her hand daintily and Zoë and Bianca’s chairs disappeared from underneath them.

Zoë sniffed haughtily as she caught herself from falling, pulling a startled Bianca away by the arm until they were a good distance away from the goddess.

“There, much better,” Aphrodite said with a satisfied smile. “Those Hunters are so dreary, I don’t know how anyone stands to be around them.”

The corners of Lee’s mouth twitched upwards despite his own nerves as Aphrodite giggled.

“Come now, no need to be so shy, dears. Eat, you’ve still got quite the journey ahead. And it won’t be easy,” Aphrodite’s eyes turned serious as she appraised the three of them.

“You have many difficult choices ahead. Grief and loss await you, but also…victory and love.”

“How do you know?” Thalia asked carefully, picking up a pastry gingerly.

Aphrodite smiled sadly at the daughter of Zeus. “All grief comes from a place of love, does it not? You cannot grieve for someone you never cared for. My domain covers all love, all heartbreak, all grief.”

A heavy silence blanketed them for several moments, and Lee picked apart the pastry in his hands.

Aphrodite broke the silence with a dainty giggle, and Lee looked up from his hands to see her currently sea-green eyes watching him in amusement.

“Oh my, you do have quite the crush, don’t you?”

Lee flushed to the roots of his hair as Silena and Thalia both started chuckling.

“I can’t blame you, darling. Those of us with the ocean in our blood are quite alluring,” the goddess winked at him, her mouth quirking up the exact way Percy’s did and Lee buried his face in his hands with a groan.

“Although, I might suggest…maybe being a bit more direct. The poor boy can be quite oblivious at times, especially when it comes to matters of the heart.”

Lee looked up to see Aphrodite smiling at him softly, a note of sympathy tempering with the amusement in her voice.

“I’ve tried telling him that,” Silena said. “He’s too worried about making things awkward.”

“I’m not—I just don’t want to mess things up,” Lee said. “What if he doesn’t…”

Silena reached over and grasped one of Lee’s hands tightly in her own. “You won’t know until you try. It’s not supposed to be easy, love is difficult—you have to work at it, you have to try. It wouldn’t be worth anything if you didn’t.”

“Wonderfully said, darling,” Aphrodite sipped a glass of pink lemonade before turning her gaze to Thalia, who stiffened uncomfortably under her contemplative stare.

“Hmmmm,” was all the goddess said after several seconds.

“What?” Thalia asked defensively.

“Oh, nothing, dear. Normally, I would offer you some form of advice, but…I get the feeling you already know what I would tell you. You’ve already made your choice, Thalia Grace, you simply have to come to terms with it.”

Thalia twitched in her seat like she was suppressing the urge to run.

“And you, Silena dear? How are your efforts with that boy of yours?” Aphrodite turned to her daughter, and Thalia slumped back in her seat gratefully.

Silena blushed. “Could be worse, I guess.”

“You’re head over heels for each other but neither of you can get up the courage to make it official, you mean,” Lee teased.

Silena flicked him in the forehead with narrowed eyes as Aphrodite gave a dainty laugh.

“It’ll work out on its own, darling. I make it a point not to interfere in my children’s love lives, as you know, or I would’ve given you two a push ages ago.”

“I know,” Silena smiled. “I know we both…I’m just waiting for the right time, is all.”

Aphrodite patted Silena gently on the hand before turning her gaze to the rising sun with a slight frown.

“I wish I could stay longer, my dear, but I’ve kept you long enough as it is. You still have far to go if you hope to free Apollo by the solstice.”

The three of them nodded solemnly, standing up when Aphrodite snapped her fingers and the table started melting away. Within seconds, the limousine Aphrodite had arrived in stood before them and their breakfast had disappeared entirely.

“And…do be careful in my husband’s junkyard. Do not take anything when you leave. He can be awfully fussy about his trinkets and trash.”

Ares opened the door so Aphrodite could gracefully step inside. The god of war followed with a parting grunt to the gathered group.

The limousine’s engine revved once, and then it trundled off into the distance, shimmering like a mirage before fading away entirely.

Chapter Text

“What did thy mother have to say?” Zoë asked as soon as the Hunters rejoined the other three.

“Love advice, mostly,” Silena said.

“Of course,” Zoë snorted derisively, “I do not think she is capable of much else.”

“Hey,” Silena snapped. “She’s plenty capable. Just because you—”

“Lady Aphrodite also warned us about her husband’s junkyard.” Lee interrupted Silena before the two could get any further in their argument—he knew from experience that once they got started, they could bicker for hours. “She said not to take anything from it.”

Zoë glanced over at the mountainous mass of discarded junk that blocked their way west. “The junkyard of the gods, I should have guessed. We will have to be careful as we make our way through.”

Lee’s skin buzzed the closer they got to the junkyard, like sparks were dancing along his skin, warning him.

They started to make their way through the piles of junk, taking in the millions of discarded objects abandoned in the desert. Lee spotted dented bronze horses like the ones the Hephaestus cabin always pulled their chariots with, smashed chariots, and enough weapons and shields that Lee knew anyone in the Ares cabin would just about burst into tears. There was also more modern stuff hidden in the stacks, race cars gleaming gold and silver, refrigerators, washing machines, and even a couple computer monitor setups that would have gamers drooling.

Lee was sure he would’ve been in awe of everything he saw in the junkyard if not for the aura the entire place gave off.

Danger. Danger. Beware.

“Whoa,” Silena said as they climbed up one of the stacks and began their descent on the other side. She picked her way down and crouched next to an abandoned vanity set shaped like an open seashell. “I can’t believe this just got thrown away, it looks perfect.”

“It’s probably defective. Or cursed. It wouldn’t have been thrown away here otherwise,” Thalia said.

“Thalia is correct,” Zoë grimaced like it pained her to agree with Thalia but kept going. “Anything thrown away in this junkyard must stay in this yard.”

“But—look!” Bianca held up a bow from further down in the stack. “A Hunter’s bow!”

The daughter of Hades yelped in surprise as the bow shrunk in her hands and became a hair clip in the shape of a crescent moon. “Whoa, this is so cool.”

“Leave it, Bianca.” Zoë’s face was grim.

Bianca slumped but didn’t argue, dropping the hair clip amongst the stacks again.

They continued making their way through the stacks carefully, occasionally stopping to ogle at something they found but always making sure to put it back. Lee found an electric guitar shaped like his father’s lyre that he knew several of his siblings would kill for and a golden piano that reminded him of music lessons with Percy over the summer, moving his hands into the correct position and teaching him bouncing melodies and soft lullabies.

Lee turned away from that stack and almost regretted it when he caught sight of a shimmering trident sticking up several feet ahead of him. It was a deep red, the sharp points gleaming like they were drenched in blood. 

Lee stuck close to Silena’s side after that, refusing to look down at the abandoned objects they walked past and keeping his eyes set firmly on the horizon. They’d been walking for hours when they finally spotted the edge of the junkyard half a mile in front of them.

“Finally,” Bianca breathed, starting to scramble down the hill.

“Wait,” Silena said. “What…what is that?” She pointed to the last hill between them and the distant lights of the highway, and Lee realized it wasn’t like the other hills of junk. This looked like it was one large piece of junk, easily the length of a football field and as tall as goalposts.

“Are those—” Lee cocked his head as he got a better look at one end of the hill, which had a row of ten metal columns all wedged tightly together like—

“Toes,” Silena said.

“Really, really large toes.” Bianca nodded.

Zoë and Thaila exchanged a nervous look, and Lee felt the buzzing on his skin intensify.

“Let’s go around,” Thalia said. “Far around.”

“Agreed,” Lee said. “I’m getting a bad vibe from that thing. From this whole place, really.”

They gave the giant toes a wide berth, glancing cautiously over their shoulders as they finally stepped out of the junkyard and onto the highway.

“We made it out,” Zoë said, relief clear in her voice. “Thank the gods.”

Lee’s skin sparked painfully and a cold sweep of dread rushed through his veins.

Behind them came a sound like a thousand trash compactors working overtime on crushing metal, and Lee spun around.

With the horrific screech of metal on metal, the giant hill was rising up. The ten toes tilted downward, holding up bronze ankles and calf and…

It was a giant. A bronze giant in full Greek battle armor.

His bronze skin gave off a wicked glare in the late morning sunlight, and his face was horribly deformed when he tilted his head down to look at them. The entire left side of his body was melted, his joints creaked with rust, and someone had written the words WASH ME in the dust across his chest—apparently Hephaestus had a sense of humor, Lee thought, because he didn’t know who else would’ve put that there.

“Talos!” Zoë gasped.

“That can’t be the original,” Thalia said. “It’s way too small. Must be a prototype, or a defective model.”

The giant moved one hand to his sword belt and drew his weapon with a terrible screech. The blade had to be a hundred feet long, dulled by the years and covered entirely in rust. Lee didn’t figure the condition of the weapon mattered when it was the size of a telephone pole and could squash them flat in one hit.

“I don’t think it liked the word defective,” Silena said nervously.

“Someone took something,” Zoë said. “Who?” 

She glared accusingly at Lee, but he shook his head.

“It wasn’t me.”

In the corner of Lee’s eye, he spotted Bianca looking down with an almost guilty wince.

“Bianca?” He asked slowly. “Did you—”

The giant took one step toward them, easily closing half the distance and making the ground shake beneath them.

“Run!” Zoë yelled.

It was hopeless—the giant would catch them with ease—but they scattered regardless. Thalia drew her shield and kept it raised in front of her as she backpedaled down the highway.

Zoë sent arrows whistling toward the creature’s face that shattered harmlessly against the metal and Silena ducked behind a small stack of junk.

Lee followed Bianca, crouching down behind a broken chariot.

“What did you take?” Lee asked. “The bow?”

“No,” Bianca shook her head, but her voice was quivering. 

“Whatever it was, just give it back! Maybe it’ll stop if you throw it back down!”

“It’s too late,” Bianca’s voice was heavy. “I was a fool, but I—I understand now. I know what I have to do.”

Lee didn’t have time to ask before Silena was screaming a warning. He moved without thinking, dragging Bianca with him right as the giant’s foot smashed a crater in the ground where they’d been hiding.

“Come on!” Lee pulled Bianca, but she yanked her arm out of his grasp. 

“I can’t. This is my fault, I have to fix it.” She pressed something into Lee’s hand and turned to face the giant.

Lee looked down at what she’d given him. It was a small metal figurine, the statue of a god.

“It was the only one he didn’t have,” Bianca whispered. The Hunter leapt out of their hiding spot, facing down the giant with tears in her eyes.

Lee realized what she was doing a moment too late. “No!”

The giant’s foot slammed down on the daughter of Hades with a shockwave that sent Lee reeling. 

He scrambled to his feet as the giant moved again, advancing on Zoë as she continued to fire arrows.

Lee forced himself to look in the crater, already dreading the sight of Bianca di Angelo’s mangled body, only to stop at the sight of an empty crater.

How…?

Lee spun around, trying to figure out what had happened. The giant was still making its way toward Zoë, but kept getting sidetracked by Thalia and Silena, who were dancing around his feet and dodging his blows.

The giant lifted up its foot as Thalia rolled out of the way, and Lee caught sight of the maintenance hatch in the heel.

No way.

Had Bianca really…of course she had.

“Are batshit crazy ideas just a Big Three kid thing?” He muttered to himself.

Seriously.

Bianca’s idea could give Percy’s track record of stupid choices a run for its money.

The giant creaked as it swung its sword in Silena’s direction before freezing. It cocked its head to the side as if someone were whispering instructions in its ear, and then its arms and legs started flopping around—like a character in a video game when the player just mashed buttons with no idea how to play.

Lee stumbled toward his friends as the giant smashed itself in the face, their eyes wide as the metal monster started attacking itself rather than them.

“What…” Thalia’s head was tilted back.

“Bianca,” Lee told them. “She got inside it through the maintenance hatch.”

“She is inside?” Zoë stopped beside them, looking horrified.

The giant took a staggering step in their direction, and the four of them moved quickly toward the highway and away from the stumbling feet.

“How will Bianca get out?” Zoë asked as their feet hit the asphalt of the highway.

Lee didn’t answer, thinking back on the look on Bianca’s face as she’d faced down Talos. Resolve. Resignation. 

Talos hit itself in the head one more time and dropped its sword somewhere in the stacks. A shudder rippled through its entire body and it took a stumbling step toward the power lines on the edge of the highway.

“Look out!” Lee yelled, despite knowing it was too late.

The giant’s ankle got caught in the lines and blue sparks shot up its legs and through the rest of its body.

Shit. Was the inside insulated?

Talos careened backwards, tripping over the piles of junk.

Lee and the others watched in horror as the giant began to crumble from the top down, falling apart at the joints.

There was an almighty crash as the pieces of Talos hit the ground and then silence.

Lee’s heartbeat felt immeasurably loud in the suddenly quiet junkyard.

Zoë moved first, stumbling toward the wreckage and yelling Bianca’s name. The rest of them followed numbly, crawling around in the vast hollow pieces that had formed Talos’s chest and limbs.

Lee shouted out for the others when he found the giant’s deformed head nearly a hundred feet away from its chest.

His hands were trembling as he pulled away the smoking metal, unbothered by the heat, to reveal the sparking inside of Talos’s brain.

He turned his face away as he caught a glimpse of the still body crumpled in the metal, and Zoë let out a terrible noise at the sight.

The Huntress staggered back like she’d been shot, her knees buckling under her. Silena caught her, and the two sank to the ground together, Silena cradling the weeping Huntress the same way she would comfort one of her siblings—all arguments forgotten in the face of their grief.

Thalia and Lee shared a sorrowful glance. Without speaking a word, they extracted the motionless form from the metal and laid it out in the dirt.

Bianca di Angelo looked peaceful, her eyes closed as if she were only sleeping. Her silver clothes were near black from the electricity that had shot straight through the head and half of her body was covered in horrific burns, but her expression was peaceful.

Lee already knew she was gone, but he pressed his fingers into the side of her neck regardless, shaking his head at the confirmation.

“She knew,” he whispered eventually.

“What?” Thalia looked up at him, her hands shaking as she arranged Bianca’s arms over her still chest.

“She knew,” Lee repeated. He opened his palm to stare at the statue the daughter of Hades had pressed into his hand before confronting Talos. “She gave this to me before…”

He remembered the heaviness in her voice when she’d called herself a fool, when she’d told him she understood what she had to do—the acceptance in her tone, the grief layering her words.

She’d known.

“A statue in the desert,” Lee’s voice was faint.

“She must’ve figured it out and known that because she took the statue…” Thalia rubbed a hand over her face, sweeping away the tears gathering in her eyes.

“We can’t stay here,” the daughter of Zeus said roughly. “We need to keep moving.”

“We can’t just leave her here,” Lee said. “What do—how do the Hunters…”

“Lady Artemis returns the body to nature so that our dust may give back to the world what we have taken from it,” Zoë said, her voice hoarse with grief. “But my lady’s not—and we don’t even have a shroud for her.”

“Maybe not,” Lee said. “But I have this.”

He shrugged off the golden-brown coat around his shoulders, willing it to turn back to its original form. The coat shimmered and morphed into a giant golden lion’s skin that Lee then wrapped around Bianca di Angelo’s body.

“Thou would—but that was…” Zoë seemed too shocked to finish a sentence, and Lee could see that the other two were similarly stunned.

“She was more of a hero than I was,” Lee said. “She deserves a shroud, at least. Let the lion’s skin be a sacrifice to Lady Artemis so she can come collect her Hunter’s body and—and give Bianca her last rites.”

Zoë looked at him for a long time, and Lee almost thought he saw a glimmer of respect in her dark eyes before she turned away.

“Let us—let us go,” the Hunter said, forcing herself to her feet. “We must not waste Bianca’s sacrifice.”

It felt wrong to turn his back on the wrapped body of Bianca di Angelo and leave it alone on the dusty ground, but Lee turned and followed the rest of them out of the junkyard.

They found a tow truck parked on the edge of the highway, and Lee almost wept when Thalia found the keys in the glove compartment and managed to start the engine. The truck had a full tank of gas, and soon they were speeding along the highway, the junkyard little more than a line of hills behind them.

Thalia plopped herself in the driver’s seat before Zoë could say a word, and the Hunter seemed almost grateful as she climbed in the passenger’s seat. There was no backseat, so Lee and Silena clambered up into the truck bed and curled up against each other and the tow winch.

Silena laid her head on his shoulder and fell asleep within minutes, but Lee found himself unable to follow her into slumber.

The weather was near perfect, sun shining high in the sky and breeze blowing swift and cool through the dry air, but it just seemed like an insult after losing Bianca.

Lee tilted his head back, soaking up the warmth of the sun, and sent a silent prayer to the god of the dead that he received his daughter’s soul and granted her Elysium.

Rain tapped gently against his shoulders.

It wasn’t your fault.

Lee turned to his left, wishing more than anything that he could see Percy rather than just hearing his voice—wished Percy were here right now instead of hundreds of miles away in the hands of their enemies.

“I know,” Lee’s voice was heavy. “Doesn’t make it any easier.”

Percy was silent for so long that Lee almost thought he was gone—only the pattering of rain on his skin kept him waiting.

Some threads are spun too tightly for any but the Fates to change. The second Bianca di Angelo swore her oath her fate was decided. 

Lee couldn’t help the grin that flickered over his face despite the grief in his heart. “You’ve been so cryptic lately, dude, all ominous warnings and mysterious messages. You gonna start spouting whole prophecies now?”

I’m, ah, actually fairly certain I already did. I was pretty out of it, but I’m quite sure I gave one to Luke the last time I saw him.

“You what?” Lee raised his eyebrows incredulously. “Like an actual—”

Yep. Would’ve been cool if it hadn’t been Luke I gave it to, but at least it didn’t seem like a very happy one for him.

“Huh,” Lee thunked his head back on the tow winch. 

I think…I think the words are coming easier now because I’m so…so close to death.

Lee stiffened at Percy’s words. “You’re in that bad of shape?”

I…think so. It’s hard to tell. I’ve barely been awake more than a couple minutes at a time since they put me in the cell. I’m not sure how much help I’ll be in the fight once you reach the mountain, at this rate.

“Don’t worry about the fight, Perce, you’re—we’re gonna rescue you. You and my father. Just…just hold on until we get there,” Lee pleaded.

I will. I’m not dying shackled in some dark cell—I won’t let them win like that. You make it to the mountaintop, Lee, and I’ll be there, I swear it.

The rain faded and Lee slumped back against Silena. He curled closer to his friend and let his exhaustion sweep him away into oblivion.

The truck ran out of gas less than a mile out from the Hoover Dam. With no other options, the group decided to walk there in the hopes of finding another car to borrow.

It was getting to be late evening by the time they reached it, and Lee could see the increase in their nerves the closer they ran to their deadline.

They needed to rescue Apollo and Percy by the winter solstice on Friday, and the sun was already setting on Wednesday.

They made their way across the road, but Thalia stopped them before they could reach one of the parking garages. “We should get some food while we’re here, there’s a snack bar in the visitor’s center.”

Zoë frowned, “I do not like the idea of going further into the dam. We should take a car and keep going.”

“We’ve barely had anything to eat all day,” Silena said. “We’re running low on food and you know it, Zoë. We’ll be quick.”

“Alright,” Zoë said. “Let us find the dam snack bar.”

“The dam snack bar?” Lee cracked a smile despite his exhaustion.

“Yes. What is funny?” Zoë blinked, but Lee could see Silena and Thalia both snorting into their hands.

“Nothing, nothing,” Lee said. “Just…looking forward to getting some dam french fries.”

Thalia struggled to keep a straight face. “And I need to use the dam restroom.”

It shouldn’t have been as funny as it was, but Lee and the other two cracked up while Zoë stared at them uncomprehendingly.

“I do not understand,” the Huntress said. 

“I wa—I want to use the dam water fountain,” Silena gasped.

“And—and…” Thalia had to pause to catch her breath. “I want to buy a dam T-shirt.”

They burst into another round of cackles. Lee probably could’ve kept laughing all day, but his humor abruptly left him when a familiar chill swept through his bones.

He straightened up, and the others caught the expression on his face and sobered up just as quick.

“What is it?” Silena asked.

“The spartoi are here,” Lee said. “I don’t—it's hard to tell where they’re coming from, but we need to go.”

“The dam snack bar will have to wait,” Zoë said. “Let us find a car and leave as quickly as possible.”

They turned to go into the parking garage next to them only to find three spartoi emerging from the entrance, blocking their way in. 

Thalia cursed, and Lee knew she was thinking the same thing he was.

They didn’t have a way to kill the spartoi anymore, all they could do was try and outrun them.

And the undead had just cut off their best exit.

“We’ve got two approaching from the Arizona side,” Silena said nervously.

“And three from the Nevada side,” Zoë’s voice was grim. “We’re trapped.”

Lee cast his gaze around desperately, trying to find some other option.

Clearly a ground exit was out of the question, even if they managed to get around the spartoi they’d be caught up with before they managed to make it out of the parking lot.

A tall man leaning against the edge of the dam caught Lee’s eye, if only because the man looked so much like Percy—an older Percy—that his heart almost stopped in his chest. Startling sea-green eyes locked onto Lee’s own, and then the man winked.

Salt bathed his tongue, rain lashed against his arms as the tide swept over his feet just for a moment.

Lee blinked and the man was gone, as if he’d never even been there.

But Lee knew he had. 

“Don’t suppose anyone’s got any bright ideas?” Silena asked.

Lee turned to look at his friend, still mulling over the man’s appearance.

Why?

He hadn’t said anything, simply winked and disappeared.

But surely he’d meant to convey some sort of message—that he was going to help? Surely. They were traveling across the country to rescue his son, surely he’d help however he could.

But help how?

Lee and his friends were about to die, trapped on all sides—undead warriors to the east and west, a lake to the north, and a several hundred foot drop off ending in concrete and the river to the south.

Water.

They were surrounded on two sides by water.

Of fucking course.

The spartoi advanced, dodging through the crows with skeletal grins stretching gruesomely across their faces.

Lord Poseidon, Lee prayed desperately. Please, help us save your son. Help us save Percy.

“It can’t end like this,” Thalia muttered desperately. “We need to clear a path.”

A cool breeze swept over them, sharp with the scent of salt, and Lee’s eyes widened.

The crowd leaning over the edge on the north side screamed, and Lee had just enough time to grab onto his friends as a tsunami of lake water swept over the side of the dam. The force of the wave almost ripped them apart, and Lee barely managed to hold on as the water spun him around like a piece of cloth in a dryer.

They were spat out on a muddy shore, coughing up lake water and shivering in their soaked clothes.

“What—” Thalia spat out another mouthful of mud. “What the fuck. What the fuck.”

Lee huffed out a near hysterical laugh. “Percy’s dad.”

Thalia’s face flashed with understanding. “Damn,” she whistled lowly. “All my dad’s ever done is turn me into a pine tree.”

Silena snorted, and even Zoë cracked a smile.

“The god of the seas has given us precious time. Let us not waste it. I see a parking lot that way,” Zoë nodded her head to the docks partway down the lake.

“Let’s go commit some more grand theft auto,” Lee sighed, wiping his hands on his pants and offering one to help Silena up. “And we’ll have to remember to sacrifice something big to Lord Poseidon when this is all over.”

The spartoi didn’t make another appearance—maybe Poseidon had done them another solid and pushed them over the opposite edge of the dam, or maybe they were just having to completely exit the dam and come around the side to hunt them down.

Either way, soon enough Lee and the others were soon speeding down another highway and leaving the Hoover Dam far behind them.

Two stolen cars later and they’d reached the outskirts of San Francisco.

Zoë growled, slamming the truck door when it sputtered and died on them just outside the city near a stretch of woods.

“It is too late anyways,” the Hunter said. “We have missed sunset. We will have to wait until sunset tomorrow.”

“What do you mean?” Silena asked. “What does sunset have to do with anything?”

“Our destination,” Zoë slumped down on a rock in the small clearing they’d landed in. “The garden of the Hesperides—of my sisters.”

“The Hesperides,” Thalia said. “They guard the golden apples of immortality, my father’s wedding gift to Hera.”

Zoë nodded. “They are the nymphs of the sunset, and thus we can only enter their garden as day changes to night.”

“Wait,” Lee said. “The Hesperides are your sisters?” 

Zoë’s face twisted bitterly. “I was one of them once. Until I helped a mortal hero steal an apple from the tree…and they exiled me for it. Erased my name from all of history, disowned me entirely.”

“Just for helping a hero?” Silena asked. “That’s harsh.”

“They were never the most loving family,” Zoë said. “Truthfully, I believe they were happy at the chance to be rid of me. It is no matter. I am much happier amongst the Hunt with Lady Artemis and my fellow sisters.”

Lee tried to remember everything he knew about the Hesperides so that he had an idea of what they’d be facing when they entered the garden.

“So, you knew this whole time where we were headed?” He asked. “What our destination was?”

Zoë looked vaguely guilty. “I had hoped that I was wrong. That we would reach San Francisco and find Apollo somewhere else, but…I had a dream last night in the desert. There is no doubt. The garden—the mountain beyond it—is our final destination.”

Lee wanted to be annoyed that she’d kept the information from them for practically the entire quest, but Zoë looked so sad that he couldn’t bring himself to stay mad.

“The Hesperides,” Silena started slowly. “Their father is Atlas, right?”

Zoë grimaced like the thought was painful. “Yes. And he is my father, too. The gods imprisoned him under the sky after the last Titanomachy, but…”

“Your first dream,” Lee remembered. “Back at camp, Chiron and Mr. D told me you’d had a dream that a dangerous enemy of the gods had been freed. Does that mean that Atlas—”

“No longer resides below the sky,” Zoë finished grimly. “Apollo languishes beneath my father’s burden, and the Titan General walks free once more.”

A heavy silence blanketed the group.

“But how?” Thalia asked. “Doesn’t the sky have to be taken willingly? How did they get Apollo to take it?”

Lee barely had to think before the answer came to him. “He took it for Percy. They must’ve found a way to trick Percy under the sky, and then Apollo took it for him.”

“But that’s…” Silena trailed off, and Lee knew they were thinking the same thing.

Percy had held the sky. The actual physical manifestation of the place where the sky and the earth first met, and Percy had held it.

He must have. 

There would be no other reason for Apollo to shoulder the burden if not to save his own prophet.

That explained why Percy was in such bad shape. Lee couldn’t even begin to imagine how much of a strain that would put on a person’s body.

“Apollo is well-known as the protector of the young. The Titans must’ve known he would not allow a child to suffer underneath the burden,” Zoë said.

“Well,” Lee said once the grim silence had continued for several long moments. “At least we know what we’re up against.”

Thalia snorted, tilting her head up to soak up the first rays of moonlight. “That’s something, I guess.”

“And we have a whole day to make it to the garden,” Silena said. “We should get some rest and move out at first light.”

Zoë nodded tiredly, pulling four sleeping bags from her bag without any fuss. Thalia started a small campfire in the clearing, and they all curled up underneath the stars.

Lee was exhausted deep in his bones, but he found himself unable to fall asleep for quite some time even after the others had dropped off.

Eventually he sat up, almost startling out of his skin when Thalia’s electric blue eyes popped open to stare at him.

“Holy shit, Thalia,” Lee hissed with a hand over his pounding heart. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Thalia snorted and sat up, hesitating for a moment before crawling over to join him on his sleeping bag. “Guessing you can’t sleep either?”

“Nope, which is ridiculous cause I’m literally so tired.”

Thalia leaned back on her hands and when she spoke again her voice was quiet and sad. “You were right.”

Lee blinked. “About what?”

“What you said the other day about Luke. How he’s not the same person I knew. I didn’t…I couldn’t wrap my head around it until now—how he could be so different to the Luke I knew.”

“So, what changed?”

“Percy.”

Lee’s confusion must’ve been visible on his face because Thalia elaborated.

“I’d heard the stories about what Luke had done to Percy—the forest and the shoes—but…”

“But now you’re seeing it for yourself?” Lee finished.

“He had Percy kidnapped and tricked him under the sky, Lee. I don’t—there’s no…” Thalia took a deep breath, turning her eyes from the stars above them to look over at Lee. “I know you don’t understand Percy and I’s relationship—truthfully, I don’t always understand it myself—but I do care about him. He was the first person at camp to treat me like an actual person and not some freak to be gawked at. We don’t—we don’t have siblings to watch out for us, he said, so we had to watch out for each other. And even when we argued over the stupidest things he still…”

Thalia’s choked voice was tinged with grief, but she forced herself to continue. “Percy could’ve died from the strain of holding up the sky. Luke could’ve killed him, and for what? To force Apollo under the burden? To get back at his dad? It had to be—he had to be in so much pain. And Luke would’ve known how much it was going to hurt him, and he did it anyway. He hurt someone I care about. I won’t forgive him for that. I won’t.”

“It’s okay to still care about him,” Lee said softly. “He was your best friend, you loved him. And then you wake up after over half a decade and suddenly he’s gone. It’s okay to…to grieve.”

Thalia sniffed, and Lee graciously ignored the tears he saw gathering in the corners of her eyes. “The Luke Castellan I knew is dead. I mourn him. I feel nothing for the corpse parading around with his name.”

Lee moved his arm up, slowly and cautiously, giving Thalia ample time to move away before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her into a warm hug.

Thalia slumped into his side, and they stayed that way until the sun’s first rays shined weakly through the trees.

Thalia shuffled away quickly as Silena stirred, plopping down on her own sleeping bag right as the daughter of Aphrodite’s eyes opened.

“Did you get any sleep?” Silena asked as she took in the pair of them.

“Ehhhh,” Thalia said.

“Think Percy’s rubbing off on me,” Lee grinned sheepishly.

“You’d like that,” Thalia snorted.

Lee squawked, heat flooding through his face as Silena giggled into her hand. He flung a clump of dirt at the snickering daughter of Zeus, defending himself heatedly. “I meant his insomnia, you little shit, and you know it.”

“Uh huh,” Thalia said. “Why don’t you do us all a favor and just ask him out when we finally rescue him? Then we won’t have to deal with your, frankly, pathetic pining anymore.”

“I am not—” Lee stopped, unable to argue that he wasn’t pining. “Is it really that pathetic?” He asked instead.

“I have never seen the two of thou interact and even I can tell that thou is pathetically obsessed with the boy,” Zoë chimed in dryly.

Lee sputtered as his friends cracked up at Zoë’s statement, too shocked to even try and defend himself.

“The unexpected ally,” Silena gasped out.

“I can’t—the straight face, too,” Thalia was beside herself with laughter.

Lee found himself grinning despite his utter embarrassment at being so obvious in his affections—except to Percy, because apparently the one person Lee did want to acknowledge his crush is the one person who was ridiculously oblivious to people liking him. Seriously, at least a dozen other campers had been caught in Percy’s allure—though Lee had it on good authority, from the Stolls, of course, that he and Annabeth were at the top of the running in the betting pool.

Percy, of course, was entirely oblivious to the significant amount of drachmas, goods, and chores that had been bet on who he eventually ended up with—if he ended up with anyone at all—and when he ended up with them.

“Alright, alright, enough laughing at my patheticness,” he complained when the laughter continued for a solid minute.

“Only if you promise to actually do something about it,” Thalia said.

Lee rolled his eyes and moved to roll up his sleeping bag to give it back to Zoë.

“Oh, come on, Lee,” Silena smiled. “You’re traveling across the country to rescue him, what’s more romantic than that?”

“I’m also traveling across the country to save my father,” Lee reminded her. “It’s not—not just for Percy.”

Thalia scoffed but Silena just hummed contemplatively.

“You’d have come on this quest regardless of which god or goddess had been captured though,” Silena said eventually.

Lee flushed tellingly and Thalia leaned forward from where she was rolling up her own sleeping bag.

“Just tell me you’ll do something about it,” she pleaded.

Lee narrowed his eyes at her, suddenly suspicious of how insistent she was that he and Percy got together soon.

“How much did you bet on us getting together then?”

Thalia’s ears pinked but she kept a straight face. “My entire stash of candy that you two would get together before the end of the year.”

Zoë whistled lowly, raising her eyebrows. “Cutting it rather close, I would think.”

“You haven’t seen them around each other, Zoë,” Thalia defended herself. “I thought there was no way they wouldn’t do something when they’re both so ridiculously obsessed with each other.”

“Rookie mistake,” Silena shook her head sympathetically. “Those of us that have been watching since the beginning could’ve told you that.”

“And what’s your bet then?” Lee asked his friend. Silena didn’t interfere in her friends’ love lives, she’d told him before, but placing bets was fair game.

“Ten boxes of my dad’s best chocolates that one of you confesses after a near-death experience or some other traumatic event,” Silena said casually.

“Smart,” Zoë said appreciatively. “Not a time constrained bet and something that would be quite likely to occur given a demigod’s life.”

Thalia grumbled but Lee found himself comforted by the fact that both of them had believed enough in him and Percy getting together that they had made such large bets on it.

Thalia was a surprise, actually. Lee would’ve thought she would’ve backed Annabeth and placed a bet on her pseudo little sister’s chances, but instead she’d backed Lee—with quite a substantial bet, at that.

And Silena, too. Lee knew she didn’t make romance bets often because she hated to be wrong, so she must’ve been fairly certain to have made such a large bet—her dad’s chocolates were incredibly sought after by the other campers and Lee knew they weren’t exactly cheap.

“So, if you two got together after the rescue both of us would win,” Thalia said, squinting at him hopefully.

Lee snorted, kicking dirt over the dregs of the fire. “If you keep pushing, I’ll wait until the new year to say anything just to make you lose.”

Thalia narrowed her eyes while Silena perked up. 

“So, you will say something if we shut up about it?” The daughter of Aphrodite asked with a grin.

Lee sighed heavily, “I’m not making any promises, but…”

Silena squealed, wrapping him up in a tight hug. Even Zoë seemed pleased at the prospect, though Lee couldn’t tell if that was because she actually liked Lee and wanted him to be happy or because him and Percy dating each other meant two less boys to ‘lead girls astray.’

He liked to think it was the first one—Zoë had certainly gotten less frosty towards him over the course of the quest, so it was a definite possibility.

Their good mood lasted up until they reached the base of the Mountain of Despair. Dark clouds swirled around the peak, as if the mountain itself was drawing a storm in.

Lee thought back to his dream—to the swirling mass of darkness that had rested upon his father’s shoulders—and shivered, his gaze caught on the spinning clouds that awaited them on the mountaintop.

The journey had taken them several hours, and the sun had just reached its peak by the time they reached the path up the mountain. Lee watched as resolve settled on the shoulders of his fellow questmates.

“Come,” Zoë said eventually. “The trail will take us several hours to travel. We must begin the journey to the garden now so we can enter at sunset.”

They climbed for several hours until the heat of the sun faded and thick mist curled around them.

“Stick close to each other,” Thalia said. “The Mist is really strong here.”

Silena’s hand brushed up against Lee’s and he grasped it tightly, seeking the contact of another human the further they made it up the mountain.

They were trekking around a scenic curve when Silena gasped. “Look!”

Lee followed her pointing finger, frowning at the sight of what looked like a cruise ship docked near the beach.

“What?” Thalia asked, peering over Lee’s shoulder.

“I’ve seen that ship before,” Silena told them, her voice shaking slightly. “It’s Luke’s.”

Thalia tensed, her gaze sharpening as she took in the huge white ship.

“We must expect to face an army at the summit, then,” Zoë said grimly.

Silena squeezed Lee’s hand, her face pale as they kept climbing. Lee felt his own nerves skyrocket as the mist slithered closer around them until they couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of them.

The sun sank through the sky until it barely touched the horizon.

Zoë stopped suddenly, frowning at the dark fog that shrouded their path. “We are close. Follow me carefully. And be silent.”

The Hunter took a step into the fog and disappeared. Lee exchanged a glance with the other two, steeled his nerves, and stepped into the Mist.

Lee focused on the feel of Silena’s hand in his, concentrating on following Zoë—even though he couldn’t see her anymore—and pushing through the Mist.

The fog cleared between one step and the next, fading away as though it had never existed and leaving Lee and his friends at the entrance of a garden.

The path to the top of the mountain cut through a lush meadow, colorful flowers glowing in the last rays of sunlight. Lee followed the path with his eyes as it turned into black steppingstones that led around either side of a ginormous apple tree glistening with golden apples. His breath left him as he caught sight of the terrifying dragon coiled around the tree.

The shadows around the edges of the path in front of them began to move, and Lee tensed as a lilting melody reached his ears. The voices were beautiful and eerie, echoing through the air as though coming from the bottom of a well.

Lee clutched his bow tightly in his hand as four young women shimmered into existence in the middle of the path. They were near identical to Zoë—leaving no doubt as to who they were—except for the fact that they looked softer. Zoë held herself like a predator—a hunter—and these women carried themselves as though they’d never picked up a weapon in their lives and they had no intention to.

“Sisters,” Zoë said.

“We do not see any sister,” one of the Hesperides said coldly. “We see three half-bloods and a Hunter. All of whom shall soon die.”

“Says you,” Thalia snorted. “You want me dead, come and kill me yourself.”

The Hesperides scoffed, but Lee could see they looked the slightest bit wary of the daughter of Zeus.

“We have no need to kill thee, Thalia Grace. If thou continues up the mountain, our father will do so himself. Do thyself a favor and go back now, before it is too late.” The second Hesperide spoke.

“Not without Apollo,” Zoë said.

“Or Percy,” Lee said firmly.

“We must continue,” Zoë insisted.

“He will kill thee,” the third Hesperide sniffed. “He is too strong.”

“We must continue up the mountain,” Zoë said. “Let us pass.”

The final Hesperide shook her head. “Thou hast no rights here anymore. All we have to do is raise our voices and Ladon will wake.”

“He will not harm me,” Zoë lifted her chin.

“No? And what about the three half-bloods thou hast brought with thee?” The first Hesperide asked.

Zoë hesitated and Lee could see her steeling herself for a moment before she shouted, “Ladon! Wake!”

The Hesperides yelped and scattered as the dragon stirred, his scales glittering in the low light. 

“Are thou mad?” The first Hesperide asked.

“Thou never had any courage, sister,” Zoë said. “That is thy problem.”

Ladon writhed in the grass, whipping his heads around and tasting the air as if trying to figure out what had woken him. Zoë stepped forward fearlessly, raising her arms as though beckoning the dragon toward her.

“Be careful,” Silena warned. “You’re not a Hesperid anymore, Zoë. He’ll kill you.”

“He is trained to protect the tree,” Zoë said over her shoulder. “Skirt around the edges of the garden and go up the mountain. As long as I remain the bigger threat to what he is guarding, he should ignore thee.”

“Should,” Thalia said. “And what if he doesn’t?”

“It is the only way,” Zoë insisted. “We have no hope of fighting him, we can only evade him.”

Ladon hissed and the sound sent a shiver down Lee’s back. Then the stench hit him. He heard Silena gag from next to him as the dragon’s breath washed over them—it smelled like acid, burning his eyes and making his skin crawl, mixed with the scent of chewed eucalyptus.

It burned itself into his nostrils until Lee was sure the stench would follow him the rest of his life.

Lee forced himself to move, dragging Silena to the right of the tree as Thalia went left. Zoë walked straight toward the monster with her arms still outstretched.

“It’s me, my little dragon,” Zoë crooned. “Zoë has come back.”

Ladon shifted on his feet, looking as uncertain as a dragon with one hundred heads could look. Some of his mouths snapped shut and the rest kept hissing, snapping at the air hesitantly.

“Fool,” the first Hesperide whispered as she and her sisters shimmered and turned back into shadows.

“I used to feed thee by hand, do you remember?” Zoë continued, speaking in a low, soothing voice as she took another step forward. “Do you still like lamb’s meat?”

Half of the dragon’s heads cocked to the side, eyes glinting in the darkness.

Lee and the other two snuck along the edges of the garden, creeping toward the rocky trail that led up to the peak. They’d almost made it out when Lee felt the dragon’s mood shift behind him.

Maybe Zoë had gotten too close. Maybe the dragon had just realized he was hungry. Whatever the reason, he lunged for the Huntress.

Millenia of hunting dangerous beasts kept her alive. She dodged slashing fangs and weaved through the dragon’s whipping heads as she ran for Lee and the others.

Lee drew an arrow, but Zoë shook her head. “Run!”

Ladon snapped at her side, and Zoë cried out. Thalia brandished Aegis in the dragon’s direction and his hundred heads reared back. Zoë used his momentary hesitance to get out of range and sprint up the path.

Ladon hissed venomously from behind them but stayed at the base of the tree. He must’ve been too well trained to be lured off even by the prospect of a tasty meal.

The Hesperides resumed their melody as Lee and his friends ran up the rocky path, serenading them with a melody that sounded eerily reminiscent of a funeral march.

On their way up the mountain they passed through ruins, blocks of black granite and marble. Broken columns and melted bronze statues.

“The ruins of Mount Othrys,” Thalia whispered in awe.

“I thought Mount Othrys was blasted to pieces in the first Titanomachy,” Silena frowned.

“It was,” Thalia looked around cautiously. “But it moves in the same way Olympus does, always existing on the edges of civilization.”

“Yes,” Zoë said. “But it was not here before. The fact that it is here now, on this mountain, is not good.”

“Because this is also Atlas’s mountain,” Lee guessed.

Zoë nodded grimly before wincing and holding her side gingerly.

“You’re hurt,” Lee said. “I can help.”

“It is fine,” Zoë grimaced, pushing Lee’s hands away.

“I’m a healer, Zoë, I may not be able to heal it entirely, but I can help a little bit.”

“Leave it,” Zoë insisted. “We do not have time.”

Beside him, Silena gasped, and Lee turned to see that they’d reached the summit at last. Across the clearing, Lee’s father knelt on the rocky ground with the weight of the sky pressing down on his shoulders. Apollo’s legs were bound to the rock beneath him with celestial bronze chains, and his clothes were ripped and tattered.

“Dad!” Lee rushed forward, unable to stop himself. He’d seen his father in his dream several days ago, but Apollo looked worse now.

“Lee,” Apollo’s voice was strained. He was drenched in sweat, trembling underneath the mass of darkness that rested on his shoulders. “Don’t—they’re waiting for you. Be careful.”

Lee met his father’s eyes right as a booming voice spoke from behind him. “Ah, how touching. The loyalty of a child to their parent. The love of a father.”

Lee whipped around, already nocking an arrow from where he knelt next to Apollo.

A man who could only have been the Titan Atlas stood at the edge of the clearing in a brown silk suit. Slightly behind Atlas was Luke and half a dozen hissing dracaenae.

And standing next to Luke was—

Percy.

Chapter Text

Percy groaned as rough hands jolted him awake once more. He didn’t even bother opening his eyes, resigned to another instance of food and water being shoved down his throat.

He let them move him without protest, too weak to even bother struggling, and prop him up against the cold wall of his cell. They tipped his head back and brought a bottle to his lips.

Percy almost choked at the taste, expecting cool water and instead being hit with the warmth of his mother’s blue chocolate chip cookies.

But that—were they giving him nectar?

Percy’s fingers twitched as feeling rushed into them for the first time in…days? Had he been in this cell for days? It was hard to tell.

Warmth flooded his veins as the person above him kept pouring more nectar down his throat. It chased away the chill that had sapped his strength, filling him with more energy than he’d had since he got captured.

The nectar kept coming.

It burned under his skin, and he welcomed the heat even if he knew it was dangerous. Demigods could burn up if they had too much nectar, and he had a feeling he was fast reaching the limit of what his mortal body could handle.

Percy opened his eyes as the bottle disappeared to see Luke kneeling in front of him.

“What—”

“I needed you conscious and able to move,” Luke told him. “Didn’t exactly feel like lugging your useless deadweight all the way up to the summit.”

The summit? Why was Percy being moved? What day was it?

Was—

“They’re here,” Percy whispered. 

The last time he’d spoken with Lee had been after Bianca di Angelo had died, reassuring his friend that the quest would make it to him on time.

There would be no other reason for Luke to need him mobile unless the quest had finally made it, and the son of Hermes needed him as leverage in the fight.

Luke scowled and Percy knew he was right.

“Your obnoxious friends have come for you and the sun god, yes. Just as we knew they would,” Luke sneered. “They won’t succeed, not against our forces. Not against the General.”

Percy chuckled hoarsely, the sound scraping out of his dry throat. 

Luke’s face twisted angrily, and he reached behind him for something, coming back with a long piece of cloth.

Percy jerked his head away, but it was futile. Luke shoved the cloth through his teeth, winding the ends around his head and tying it roughly, uncaring of the pieces of Percy’s hair that got caught in the knot.

Percy made a protesting noise, muffled by the gag—because Luke had gagged him, had actually, physically gagged him.

“There,” Luke smiled coldly. “That’s much better. Can’t have the prophet speaking out of turn, can we?”

Percy flinched back as Luke reached for his hands, but the son of Hermes just removed Percy’s shackles from the wall, grasping the chain tightly in his hands.

Percy stumbled to his feet as Luke used the chain to pull Percy up, his knees buckling under him for a moment before holding his weight.

Percy’s muscles were weak, both from the days he’d spent curled up on an unforgiving floor and the overexertion of holding the sky for as long as he had.

But he could move, could stand, and that was something—especially considering how out of it he’d been since they’d put him in this cell.

“Now, let’s go meet your foolish friends. Maybe when you see what we do to them—how powerful my lord’s forces have become—you’ll reconsider your position.”

Percy scoffed, the derision in his voice clear even through the cloth muffling the sound, and Luke’s whole face twitched.

Luke turned on his heel, dragging Percy behind him by the shackles around his wrist. Percy staggered after his captor, glaring at Luke’s back as he was led like a dog on a leash out of the dark building and onto the mountaintop.

A group of dracaena joined them as they stepped onto the summit, hissing and grinning at the prospect of killing demigods, and they stopped just behind the waiting Atlas.

Percy’s eyes flicked to Apollo first, finding the god in much worse condition than the last time Percy had seen him.

Kneeling next to Apollo was Lee, who whipped around at the sound of Atlas’s booming voice. Lee nocked an arrow, training it point blank on Atlas’s chest before pausing as he caught sight of Percy.

His blue eyes went wide before narrowing in rage as he took in Percy’s condition.

“Luke,” Lee was practically snarling. “Let him go.”

“No can do, I’m afraid.” 

Percy let out a strangled yelp as Luke kicked the back of his knee, which buckled under the force. His knees hit the ground hard barely a moment before a hand was gripping his hair harshly and forcing his head back to bare his throat.

Something sharp and cold pressed against his neck and everybody on the summit went still.

Percy could see the rest of the quest now. Thalia and Silena stood next to Zoë Nightshade, all three with their weapons raised and eyes locked onto the sword Luke was holding to Percy’s throat.

“Put down the sword, Luke,” Thalia said tightly.

Atlas laughed and Percy flinched as the Titan General ran a finger down Percy’s cheek, unable to move away because of the hand still forcing his head back. “You are not in a position to make demands, daughter of Zeus. One word from me and Luke will split your little friend’s throat wide open while you can do nothing but watch him choke on his own blood.”

Percy jerked again, almost ripping his own hair out from the force as he tried to pull away from Luke’s iron grip.

“Lay down your weapons,” Luke said. “You can’t win this fight, Thalia. Why are you fighting for the gods anyway? Join us—join me, and we can make the world better. For all of us.”

Thalia’s hands sparked with electricity. “You think I would ever join you after what you’ve done? Fuck you. Let my cousin go.”

“If you won’t join us, daughter of Zeus, you will die here tonight,” Atlas said.

The sword pressed to Percy’s throat twitched as Luke flinched. “She can still be turned—”

“We don’t need her,” Atlas dismissed. “We have the boy—he is the true prize.”

The Titan General turned to where Zoë had trained her arrow on her father. “And how are you, Zoë? My little traitor. You cannot imagine how pleased I was when I heard you were part of the quest to rescue Apollo. I will so enjoy killing you at last.”

Zoë lifted her chin defiantly. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Atlas snarled, his suit melting in Greek battle armor. “It is beneath a Titan to fight a mere mortal, but for you, my traitorous daughter, I will make an exception.”

“He cannot,” Apollo groaned. “He’s constrained by the ancient laws. Do not challenge him.”

“Silence,” Atlas hissed. The Titan waved his hand and Luke pressed his sword deeper into Percy’s skin until the slightest bit more pressure would slice open his throat.

“Another word from you and I’ll have Luke split the boy’s throat wide open and drag his lifeless body to lay at your feet.”

“You won’t,” Lee said confidently from his place next to Apollo. “He’s too important to your lord for you to kill him here.”

Atlas’s fists clenched as Lee called his bluff. The son of Apollo was right—Atlas had stopped Luke from doing the same thing several days ago, there was no way he would risk Kronos’s ire just because he lost his own temper.

Percy took a few seconds to appraise the situation.

Thalia, Silena, Zoë, and Lee were all armed and ready. Apollo was trapped under the sky. 

The six dracaenae were hissing lowly next to him, waiting to be given the order to attack. Atlas, similarly, was waiting to be challenged so that he could retaliate in full force.

Luke was still holding his sword to Percy’s throat—arguably the biggest threat to Percy right now, seeing as he couldn’t move without risk of slicing open his neck.

Percy was still shackled, kneeling on the ground with his neck bared.

He would be of little help to the fight—he was a hindrance, in fact, seeing as he could still be used as leverage.

He had to put some distance between himself and Luke, had to get the shackles off.

But how? If Percy even tried to make a move his captors would see it coming and slit his throat. 

Except…they weren’t looking at him. 

Atlas had turned his back to confront Percy’s friends. And Luke was almost certainly still watching Thalia.

The dracaenae were clustered to his left. Luke was behind him.

And Percy…Percy had never been disarmed. They’d never bothered to remove Riptide from his pocket—not that it would’ve worked, seeing as the pen was charmed to always return to his pocket.

He hadn’t bothered to draw it in the time he’d been captured because it wouldn’t have helped him—he had hardly been in a good enough condition to be fighting and he was surrounded by far too many enemies even if he had been capable of putting up a fight.

But now? 

Luke had given him enough nectar that Percy, while hardly in peak condition, was more than capable of moving fast enough for his plan.

Slowly, so slowly, Percy moved his right hand to his pocket. His shackles rattled and Percy stopped, his heart pounding in his chest as he waited to see if they noticed.

Nothing.

He dug in his pocket and felt his fingers curl around the familiar shape.

Okay. 

Percy looked at Lee, widening his eyes and gesturing with them down to the hidden weapon in his hand. Lee’s eyes caught on Percy’s hands, narrowing as he looked back up at Percy’s face.

The son of Apollo flicked his eyes to Atlas, a silent question in his eyes. Percy jerked his head down once in response, knowing that Luke would assume it was another futile movement to free himself.

Lee clutched his bow tighter in his hand, resolve showing on his face.

The conversation had continued around them—Luke was pleading with Thalia while Atlas continued to try and goad Zoë into challenging him. Silena had made her way around the edge of the clearing to Percy’s left, short sword in hand as she kept a wary eye on the hissing dracaenae.

Lee flashed his fingers from around his bow, a subtle countdown that only the two of them were aware of.

Three.

Percy put his thumb on the cap.

Two.

His muscles tensed, his thumb pushing forward.

One.

Riptide expanded in his hand. Luke jerked backward as the glowing bronze blade appeared in his range of vision, his own sword digging painfully into Percy’s neck, but Percy and Lee were already moving.

Lee sent an arrow point-blank at Luke’s face—a boxing glove arrow, by the look of it, which…wouldn’t have been Percy’s choice but he knew Lee had been raring for the opportunity to clock Luke in the face so it shouldn’t have been a surprise.

Percy didn’t move anything but his arm, slashing forward with Riptide at the exposed ankle directly in front of him. A severed tendon could take an enemy out of the fight as surely as a stab wound to the center chest, Percy knew, and one of the most important tendons in the human body happened to be right within his range.

Percy sliced straight through Atlas’s achilles tendon and the Titan stumbled forward with a roar, ichor already spilling onto the rocky ground.

Luke reeled back as a boxing glove socked him straight in the face, his sword dropping to his side and leaving Percy free to move.

The rest of the clearing burst into action.

Thalia rushed forward to engage Luke, Aegis sitting high in her arm and sparks running down her shield. Silena lunged forward, taking out two of the dracaenae with ease and drawing the other four into a fight.

Atlas spun around right as Percy made it to his feet, rage shining in his volcanic eyes. Percy backpedaled desperately, knowing he stood no chance against one of the strongest Titans on his best day, let alone when he was shackled and running on fumes.

He needed to get rid of the shackles.

A huge javelin appeared in Atlas’s hands, its sharp point gleaming in the moonlight.

Huh.

Stupid idea time.

Percy stopped retreating, spreading his hands as wide as he could in front of his face right as Atlas swung his javelin down in a deadly blow.

The point of the javelin cleaved through the dark chains like they were made of butter and Percy stumbled back, his hands free at last.

Zoë and Lee sent a barrage of arrows, buying Percy enough time to duck under Atlas’s next furious swing and retreat across the clearing until he stood next to Lee.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” The son of Apollo hissed.

Percy ripped the gag out of his mouth and let the piece of cloth fall around his neck. “Nice to see you, too.”

They shared a grin, turning back to the fight as Atlas snarled in rage.

“Enough! Surely not even my uncle will begrudge me killing you now. You will die with the rest, you insufferable little pest.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a plan?” Lee asked as Atlas advanced. “We can’t beat him.”

“We can’t,” Percy said, ducking around Atlas.

Lee followed Percy’s gaze to the sun god still languishing under the sky and watching the proceedings helplessly.

“The Titan’s curse must one withstand,” Lee muttered, and Percy could see the realization sweeping through him.

“Go,” Percy told his friend. “I’ll try not to die in the meantime.”

“You better not.” And then Lee was off, disengaging from the fight and leaving the Titan Atlas to Percy and Zoë.

Percy dodged another swipe, feeling the energy from the nectar fading and knowing he didn’t have much more in him.

Already he was slowing down, unable to keep up enough speed to dodge Atlas’s blows.

Percy raised Riptide and deflected another hit, moving to retaliate with a swipe of his own, but his body was too tired—his sword too heavy, weighing down his arm.

The Titan caught him in the chest with the shaft of the javelin and sent him flying through the air. He slammed into one of the reforming walls of Mount Othrys with enough force to knock the breath right out of him.

Percy didn’t even have the chance to recover before Atlas was on him, wrapping a meaty hand around Percy’s neck and yanking him up until his feet left the ground.

Percy choked, his mind flashing back to his first summer at camp when Luke had almost killed him by strangling him. The image of Atlas in front of him flickered, superimposed with Luke’s cold face—his hands wrapped around Percy’s neck, kneeling over him in an abandoned forest and stealing the breath from his lungs.

For a moment, Percy was back in that forest again. Twelve years old, betrayed by someone he’d thought was his friend, inches from death.

His sword—Percy needed…

A distant clang caught Percy’s ears as Riptide slipped from his grasp.

No.

His—he dropped his sword. He’d never…

A strange ringing filled Percy’s ears, drowning out everything else as a voice echoed in his mind.

One day soon, you will feel my curse.

Percy clawed at the hand around his throat desperately, but Atlas’s grip was ironclad.

You will raise your blade, hoping for victory, only to have it fail you.

A choked noise slipped past Percy’s lips as Atlas tightened his fingers.

And the blood of an ally will lie on your hands, on your failure.

Percy’s fingers were numb, too weak to have any effect on the Titan’s grip.

Atlas could’ve snapped his neck then and there, or even impaled him with the javelin in his other hand, but Percy had wounded his pride earlier.

And so the Titan took a moment to gloat.

“I think I’ll flay you open and lay your corpse next to your precious sun god. Sacrifice your entrails to your filthy father and—” Atlas cut himself off with a roar as Zoë buried a volley of arrows in the armpit chink of Atlas’s armor.

The Titan dropped Percy, who hit the ground painfully, and swiped at his daughter. The tip of his javelin caught Zoë in the side and she went flying, disappearing into the black rocks on the opposite end of the clearing.

Atlas rounded on Percy with an animalistic snarl before he could do anything other than suck one stuttered breath into his lungs, raising his javelin over Percy’s downed form.

Before the javelin could begin its descent, Apollo was there, standing above Percy and knocking the weapon aside with a pair of golden hunting knives.

The god was glowing golden in the moonlight, heat radiating off of him so intensely that Percy could see it.

“You dare,” Apollo’s voice was almost unrecognizable as he snarled. “Lay a hand on my prophet.”

Atlas, one of the strongest Titans, the so-called terror of the gods, took a visible step back in the face of Apollo’s rage.

All gods were capable of great feats when angered, but Apollo was legendary—on par with Percy’s father—for his protective rage. He guarded his own most jealously.

And Atlas had gone after one of Apollo’s prophets knowing full well just who he was targeting.

Percy coughed, the air scraping out of his bruised throat, and pushed himself onto his knees. He swayed dangerously, the edges of his vision still tinted with darkness as he struggled to draw air into his lungs.

Apollo, meanwhile, had engaged Atlas in a truly terrifying battle—knives flying as the god leaped and dodged around Atlas’s javelin with unbelievable grace. Every cut Apollo gave the Titan sizzled, filling the air with the scent of burning flesh.

Right.

Apollo seemed to have that handled, then.

Thalia and Luke were still fighting across the clearing. Thalia was driving Luke back toward the cliff edge with the aura of her shield, lightning crackling around them dangerously.

Silena was handling herself well, dispatching the last draecaenae as Percy watched. Her eyes lit up when she spotted him and Percy felt a weak grin spread across his face before it faded as Thalia screamed in rage.

The daughter of Zeus had backed Luke up to the edge of the summit, slamming his sword out of his hands with her shield. Luke was paler than Percy had ever seen him, desperation gleaming in his eyes as the backs of his heels slipped over the edge.

Thalia put the point of her spear to his throat, tears shining in her eyes.

“Well?” Luke asked, his voice trembling. “Are you going to kill me?”

Thalia hesitated. Her spear wavered.

Percy saw it coming a moment before Luke moved, making a desperate grab for Thalia’s spear.

Thalia reacted instinctively, kicking Luke solidly in the chest and forcing him to take a step back. Except…there was no ground behind him. Luke slipped over the edge with a horrific scream of terror that cut off abruptly.

Silena moved first, pulling a grief-stricken Thalia away from the edge right as a volley of javelins sailed over their heads.

“Reinforcements are here,” Silena shouted. “We need to go.”

Percy’s limbs trembled from the effort, but he forced himself to his feet at Silena’s words.

A bellow of rage from behind Percy shook the ground beneath his feet, and he turned, catching sight of an enraged Atlas struggling under his old burden.

The view tilted. Percy realized he was falling right as a pair of warm arms caught him.

“I got you, kid.” 

“‘pollo?” Percy mumbled into a tattered shirt.

“Yeah, kid. I got you, you’re okay.”

Percy’s legs didn’t seem to be capable of holding him up, so Apollo pulled him closer into his side, supporting most of his weight.

“You alright?”

Percy nodded, slumping further into Apollo and just…letting the god hold him up.

It was over.

It was over.

Percy could—Percy could just…stop. He could let the others handle it from here.

Everything went fuzzy around him as Percy’s world narrowed down to the heat radiating off of Apollo, soaking into his skin and melting the ice in his bones.

“...erc…kid…”

There was…somebody was speaking—to him? Were they trying to speak to him?

A low groan left his battered throat, scraping out of his lungs from somewhere deep in his chest as Percy forced his eyes open—and when had they closed? He didn’t think he remembered closing them.

“There you are,” Apollo was smiling down at him, but there was something like concern glistening in the god’s eyes.

Sharp rocks dug into his back.

Oh.

Percy was on the ground.

When had that happened?

He’d been standing, hadn’t he? He’d been leaning against Apollo.

Apollo turned away, speaking in a soft tone to someone else, but the words were muffled. Percy’s ears felt like they’d been stuffed with cotton.

A warm hand pressed into his forehead, clearing away some of the mush in his brain and letting reality filter back in.

“...best I can do for now. Can you…”

Percy’s eyes blinked back open—had they closed again? How odd. He didn’t remember that either.

Apollo was gone, replaced with another familiar figure.

Lee.

Percy’s lips cracked into a grin at the sight of his friend.

“Lee,” his voice was hoarse, the name dragging out of his tight throat painfully, but it was worth it for the way Lee’s blue eyes lit up.

“Percy,” Lee breathed his name like it was a prayer, his lips curling into a smile—small and sweet and just for Percy. “You’re back.”

Back?

“Where’d I go?”

Lee shook his head, bending down to press his forehead against Percy’s own. Percy soaked up the warmth of his friend’s skin, wondering if Lee was doing the same thing—except, not Percy’s warmth, but the reminder that Percy was here, he was alive.

“Lee?”

The son of Apollo pulled back, and Percy’s heart panged at the silent tears slipping down his cheeks.

Every muscle and joint in Percy’s body protested the movement, but Percy forced his arm up anyway. He brushed away the tears gently, his brow furrowing as Lee brought a hand up to grip Percy’s fingers tightly.

“You had me worried,” was all Lee said.

Oh.

“‘m sorry,” Percy whispered.

Lee shook his head again, his fingers tightening around Percy’s for a moment before letting go. “Can you move?”

Percy frowned, taking a moment to assess the state of his body.

“I…maybe? I’m not…”

“Taking that as a no, then.”

Percy barely had a moment to register Lee’s response before his friend was sliding his arms under Percy’s body and lifting him effortlessly.

A strangled yelp left Percy’s mouth at the sudden change in position.

“This okay?” Lee’s arms shifted, pressing Percy more comfortably to the son of Apollo’s chest.

“Wh…”

Lee raised an eyebrow, his arms strong and steady around Percy’s upper back and knees, not even looking remotely winded from the effort of supporting Percy’s entire weight.

Percy swallowed painfully around the sudden lump in his throat, his eyes wandering over the taut line of Lee’s shoulders.

Somehow, it had never occurred to Percy just how strong his friend had to be—the muscles in his shoulders and arms and back from drawing a bow dozens of times day after day for years on end—because Lee was…almost deceptively lean.

Lee wasn’t like Clarisse and the other children of Ares, who tended to wear clothes specifically designed to showcase their strength, or Beckendorf and his siblings, who tended to have rather overt and obvious muscles from their time spent in the forges.

But now Lee was just…like Percy weighed nothing at all.

“Percy?” Lee asked.

“Hmmm?” Percy’s gaze was still caught on Lee’s shoulders—how long could Lee hold him up, Percy wondered. Cause, like, it didn’t look like it was costing Lee any effort to hold him up.

“This okay?”

Percy’s eyes flicked up and he felt rather like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar as he realized that he’d just…completely zoned out while staring at Lee’s shoulders.

“Wh—yeah, yeah. This is—okay, yep. Completely…completely okay. More than—” Percy snapped his mouth shut with an audible clack as his face flooded with heat.

Lee’s eyes flicked down for a moment, and there was something unreadable in his gaze when he looked back up that had Percy’s blush spreading from his face to the tips of his ears and down to his chest.

“Good,” Lee breathed. 

And then Lee was moving, striding across the clearing with Percy still enveloped in his arms. Percy tucked his face into his friend’s neck, curling as close as he could to Lee’s warmth.

Lee climbed over broken columns and rocks with ease, not even stumbling over the uneven terrain despite Percy’s extra weight, before stopping suddenly. Percy pulled his head up, his breath leaving him like he’d been suckerpunched as he caught sight of Apollo kneeling next to the fallen Zoë Nightshade.

The god’s face was grim, his hands limp by his sides.

A tinge of grief ran through Percy—a flash of rage, too. He’d known since before the quest had even left camp that Zoë wouldn’t return from it, but confronted with the sight of it now…

And Percy’s own part in it, too. Zoë had taken her father’s hit while saving Percy’s life—because Percy’s sword had failed him. Because Percy had failed.

Zoë’s fate had been sealed the moment the prophecy had been spoken, but a part of Percy knew that her string had been measured as soon as Percy had drawn ichor from Ares on that beach.

Lee’s arms tightened around Percy as he took another hesitant step forward.

“Dad?”

Apollo shook his head, and Lee’s breath caught in his chest.

“The stars,” Zoë murmured, her eyes flickering across the sky before landing on Percy. 

“I cannot see them.”

“Hey!” Silena stumbled over the rocky terrain to get to them, Thalia behind her.

“Reinforcements are here! We need to get going or we’ll—”

Silena caught sight of Zoë, stopping so suddenly that Thalia bumped into her.

“No need,” Apollo murmured. “We have reinforcements of our own.”

The clear call of a hunting horn echoed through the air.

Zoë’s lips twitched up as she recognized the sound.

“Sisters,” she sighed.

On the ridge below them, a troop of young girls engaged Luke’s army, arrows of moonlight slicing through the air and turning the advance guard into dust in a matter of seconds.

A beam of moonlight shined on the space next to Apollo, and Percy turned his face into Lee’s neck as the light brightened painfully. When he turned back, the goddess Artemis knelt at her Lieutenant’s side.

“My lady.”

“My brave Lieutenant,” Artemis said, grief written across every inch of her young face. “Come, we must get you away from here. Your sisters can only buy so much time.”

The moonlight brightened again as a silver chariot appeared from the sky, drawn by four golden stags that shimmered in the starlight.

“Get in,” Artemis said.

Apollo picked Zoë up carefully, climbing into the front seat of the chariot next to his twin while Silena helped a still stunned Thalia into the back seat. 

Lee deposited Percy carefully next to Silena before hopping in himself.

Artemis pulled the reins with one hand, raising a hunting horn to her lips with her other. She sounded out two short blasts that Percy figured must’ve been a call for her Hunters to retreat, given the shrieks of anger that followed them as they began to fly.

Percy cast one last glance behind him at the mountain he’d been held captive on for days, his gaze catching on the trapped figure of Atlas, who was still bellowing curses as he struggled under his old burden.

Percy shivered as the wind whistled through his hair, and Lee frowned over at him.

“Cold?”

“Freezing,” Percy admitted. It wasn’t the same chill that had plagued him ever since he’d taken the weight of the sky—wasn’t eating at the saltwater in his veins and turning his bones to ice—but he was still cold. They were pretty high up in the air, and Percy had lost his coat ages ago, so the wind was cutting through his thin shirt like it wasn’t even there.

“Come here,” Lee said, shifting so that Percy could lean into his side. Percy practically melted into Lee’s warmth, laying his head down on his friend’s shoulder with a groan.

“How are you always so warm?”

Lee gave an amused huff, “I’m the son of the sun god, dude.”

“Hmmph.” Percy curled closer, soaking up as much of the heat as he could—seriously, Lee was like a fucking furnace.

“Thank you,” Percy murmured into Lee’s neck, so quiet he wasn’t sure the son of Apollo would hear him.

“For what?”

“For coming.”

Percy knew that, officially, the quest had been issued to rescue Apollo, but…his friends—they’d come for him, too.

Lee hadn’t just traveled across the country to save his father from the hands of the Titans, but to save Percy from captivity.

And Percy couldn’t—that his friends cared so much about him that they were willing to race thousands of miles across the country—sometimes the depth of their love for him baffled Percy.

He was just—just Percy. He was the son of Poseidon and a prophet, yeah, but…they didn’t care about that. They loved him for him, not his father or his visions.

Before camp—before meeting Grover and learning who Percy really was—Percy had really only ever had one person in his life that cared for him like that. And now, to be surrounded by so many…Percy felt warmth rush through him at the thought.

He had people. People that cared about him—people that loved him.

“I’ll always come for you,” Lee wrapped an arm around Percy’s shoulders and drew him in closer, laying his head down on Percy’s. “Thank you for surviving long enough for us to get there.”

Percy gave a low hum in response right as the chariot touched down in a field of wildflowers. 

Lee slid out quickly, turning around and pulling Percy back into his arms without a second of hesitation.

Percy made a faint noise of protest—he was fairly sure he could stand up on his own if Lee would let him—but he was too comfortable, and Lee was too warm, for him to bother putting up any more of a fight.

Apollo laid Zoë gently on the grass before stepping away so Artemis could kneel at her Lieutenant’s side. The Huntress was shivering in the night air, and the faint glow that accompanied all of Artemis’s Hunters in the moonlight had faded until it was practically invisible.

“Have I…served thee well?” Zoë whispered, lucidity filtering back into her dark eyes.

“With great honor,” Artemis ran a gentle hand down Zoë’s cheek. “The finest of all who have ever hunted at my side.”

Zoë smiled, tension bleeding out of her body. “I am glad to—to have been able to serve you for…for so long. And to be able to rest. At last.”

Zoë’s gaze caught on Thalia, who’d been hovering just over Artemis’s shoulder.

“I am sorry we argued,” she said. “We could have been sisters, if I’d only—”

“It was my fault,” Thalia said, kneeling down to take Zoë’s hand. “You were right, back then. About Luke, about heroes, men—everything.”

“Not everything,” Zoë murmured, smiling weakly at Lee. “I am glad to have learned, even at the end of my life, that there are—are worthy men out there. Tell me, Lee, that you will keep your promise.”

Zoë’s eyes flickered over to Percy for a moment before returning to Lee.

Percy’s eyebrows furrowed when Lee’s cheeks pinked. “I—I will.”

Zoë nodded, seeming satisfied, and then spotted Silena next to Thalia.

The daughter of Aphrodite was crying, silent tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“I am sorry, Silena, for the way my sisters and I…you were right. Love is not weak, I—I see that now.”

Amendments made with her questmates—her friends, Zoë turned her gaze on Percy.

“The stars,” she said, somewhat hesitantly. Percy dipped his head, answering her unspoken question.

Zoë’s body shuddered as she looked up at the night sky above them, littered with shimmering stars.

“The stars,” she sighed. “I can see them now, my lady.”

A silvery tear trickled down Artemis’s cheek. “Yes, my brave one. They are beautiful tonight.”

“Stars,” Zoë repeated softly, a look of awe and wonder on her face. Her eyes fixed on the night sky.

She didn’t move again.

Thalia lowered her head as Silena pulled the daughter of Zeus into a tight hug, her own shoulders shaking with quiet sobs.

Lee turned his face away, his cheek brushing up against Percy’s.

Artemis bent her head for a moment, before cupping her hands above Zoë’s mouth. She whispered words Percy couldn’t hear and then a silvery wisp of smoke curled out of Zoë’s parted lips and pooled in the goddess’s hands. Zoë’s body shimmered like moonlight and disappeared.

Percy nudged Lee with the side of his head until the son of Apollo looked up, knowing that Lee would want to see what happened next.

Artemis stood, murmuring a quiet blessing and breathing into her cupped hand before releasing the silver dust into the sky. The dust spiraled up, sparkling like silver fireflies before vanishing into the wind.

Percy kept his gaze on the stars, watching them glow and rearrange into a new pattern—a girl with a bow, leaping across the sky.

“Let the world honor you, my brave Huntress,” Artemis said. “Live forever in the stars.”

Silena gasped.

Percy turned, watching Lee’s face as he looked up at the constellation—the stars reflecting in his blue eyes and a sad smile gracing his face.

A few steps away, Apollo had drawn his twin into a tight embrace, whispering what Percy was sure were words of comfort in her ear. Artemis was so upset she was flickering with silvery light, as though she were moments away from shifting into her divine form—which would disintegrate any mortal that had the misfortune of looking upon it.

“The solstice is about to begin,” Artemis said once she’d gained her composure. “My brother and I must leave immediately if we hope to make it on time. As such, we cannot take you with us—the speed with which we must travel is not suitable for mortals—but we have arranged for transportation for you.”

The goddess cast her silver eyes over the group before laying a soft hand on Silena’s shoulder. “Zoë was right. My Huntresses too often forget that just because we swear off romantic love does not mean we are truly without love itself. You are stronger than you know, my girl.”

Artemis looked over at Thalia, something questioning and curious in her gaze, waiting until Thalia looked up reluctantly and held the goddess’s eyes. Artemis’s face softened with sympathy as understanding flickered through her eyes.

She gave two quick nods to Percy and Lee—which was more than he was expecting, to be honest—before hopping in her chariot and disappearing in a flash of silver as they averted their eyes.

Apollo drew a pair of keys from his pocket and called his own chariot to his side. He laid a comforting hand on Lee’s shoulder and pressed a warm palm to Percy’s forehead.

“We’ll talk more on Olympus, yeah?” The god said to the both of them before hopping in his glowing chariot and disappearing after his sister.

The four of them were quiet for a long time after that, and then Silena and Thalia seemed to come to the same conclusion because both of them turned to look at him at the exact same moment—it was a little creepy how in sync they were with it, in all honesty.

Silena lunged forward first, and Percy twisted, wiggling out of Lee’s arms just in time to collapse into Silena’s embrace.

She clutched him close to her chest like he was still that lonely twelve year old she’d found crying in the stables, and Percy buried his face in her shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Silena whispered, squeezing him a little tighter before letting him go.

Thalia popped up next, her hand reaching out but stopping inches from Percy’s shoulder as though afraid to touch him. The daughter of Zeus was staring at Percy’s throat, her gaze caught on what Percy was sure was an impressive smattering of bruises.

“You good?”

“Mmmph,” Percy prodded his throat gingerly, wincing at the sting. His voice rasped out of his throat painfully, and it was still harder than Percy thought it should’ve been to draw breath into his aching lungs. “I’ve been better. What is with people trying to strangle me?”

“You do have a habit of pissing people off every time you open your mouth,” Thalia said with a grin.

“Wh—that’s…bitch.”

Percy narrowed his eyes at his friends as Silena and Lee covered their mouths to hide their amusement. He sniffed, turning away from his friends at their betrayal—though, mostly it was so they wouldn’t see the grin stretching across his face—before stopping with a tilt of his head as he caught a glimpse of something in Lee’s wavy hair.

Percy’s hand moved before he even registered what he was doing. His fingers picked out the lone strand of white hanging over Lee’s forehead.

“I’m guessing you haven’t taken a look at yourself yet, Kelp Head?”

Percy blinked as Thalia’s words registered, immediately dropping Lee’s hair to clutch at his own, pulling it away from his face to see if he had the same streak.

Silena smacked his hands away gently, rolling her eyes good-naturedly as she pressed a small hand mirror into his palms.

Huh.

Sure enough, Percy’s own hair was streaked through with white. It…seemed a lot more noticeable in Percy’s hair than in Lee’s, sticking starkly out from his dark hair. There was more of it, too—small shocks of white lancing out from his roots and spreading out across his entire head. Most of it converged on his bangs, hanging over his forehead and reminding him of Jason Todd after he got brought back from the dead.

“From holding up the sky,” Thalia said quietly. “The strain should’ve killed you.”

It nearly did, Percy thought to himself, but he—rather smartly—kept that little tidbit to himself.

He examined the new addition to his hair for a moment longer before snapping the mirror shut. “Could be worse, I suppose. I could have a matching white streak with Thalia.”

Thalia squawked in mock outrage, but Percy ignored her, turning to look over at Lee with a soft grin. He reached out, fingering the mark in Lee’s blonde hair absentmindedly.

“It suits you.”

Lee returned Percy’s grin, but he noticed there was a light blush riding high on the son of Apollo’s cheekbones.

Percy spent several seconds just smiling at Lee before he realized he still had his hand in Lee’s hair and stepped back with an awkward cough.

He rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushing with heat.

Silena looked distinctly amused—though Percy couldn’t figure out why—and Thalia was running her hand down her face while shaking her head in what Percy thought was disbelief.

He was stopped from asking them what was the matter by a familiar noise—the whoosh of large wings flapping through the air. Percy turned with a wide grin on his face as three pegasi descended through the fog.

“Blackjack!” Percy called happily. The pure black pegasus landed on the ground in front of Percy, folding his wings to his side and reaching forward to nudge Percy’s chest gently.

Yo, boss. Heard you got yourself in a spot of trouble, glad you made it out even without me there to save ya.

“We managed,” Percy rubbed Blackjack’s forehead. “Probably would’ve been easier if you were there, though.”

Well, duh. 

Percy rolled his eyes, turning to greet the other two pegasi, Prince and Ghost, before frowning.

“They only sent three,” he noted.

“Astute observation, Kelp Head,” Thalia snorted.

Percy sent her a deadpan stare. “There’s four of us, Pinecone Face.”

“No shit, I had no idea.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t entirely sure you could count that high, so—” Percy cut himself off with a yelp as he dodged Thalia’s half-hearted swipe and almost face planted into the dirt when his legs buckled, stumbling for a moment before regaining his balance.

“We only need three,” Lee said, thankfully not mentioning Percy’s near fall.

“We do?”

Lee blinked at Percy’s question, pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose like he was asking for patience.

“Percy.”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows, sure he was missing something obvious but unable to figure out what.

“You’re swaying on your feet.”

Oh.

He was. Now that Lee had pointed it out Percy noticed that he was, in fact, swaying quite dramatically.

“Have I…have I been doing this the whole time?”

Lee dragged his hand down his face. “Ever since I set you down. I have no idea how you’re still standing, actually. You look like one of those things they put outside car dealerships.”

Thalia threw her head back, cackling loudly, while Percy put an offended hand to his chest.

“You almost fell over less than a minute ago,” Lee raised an unimpressed eyebrow.

Percy deflated, accepting that he probably shouldn’t be riding a pegasus on his own in his current condition.

“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Let’s just go.”

Thalia was still snickering when she pulled herself onto Ghost’s back, and even Silena sent him an amused grin while mounting Prince.

Huh.

They hadn’t even discussed who’d be riding double with Percy to keep him from plummeting to his death, but he couldn’t deny that Lee was who he’d have wanted doing it anyways.

Percy couldn’t explain it, but—even though he trusted both Silena and Thalia implicitly—he felt the safest in Lee’s company.

And besides, it’d be nice to spend a couple hours in close contact with the heated furnace that was Lee.

Percy’s face flushed at the thought, not quite sure why he was so embarrassed at the happiness he felt at the prospect—not quite sure why he was so happy about it, either.

“You go up first,” Lee told him. “And I’ll get up behind you, that way I can make sure you don’t fall off mid-flight.”

The son of Apollo gave Percy a leg up, helping him swing himself up on Blackjack’s back. The black pegasus was unusually calm, not prancing like he usually did when Percy went for a ride with him like he could sense that Percy wasn’t in the best condition.

Lee pulled himself up behind Percy with a truly impressive jump, barely jostling Percy’s position at all as he settled against Percy’s back.

Percy felt heat rush through him as Lee wrapped his arms around Percy’s midsection, pulling him flush against Lee’s front.

“You good?”

Percy’s throat felt tight—from the ring of bruises around his neck, probably—so he nodded instead of responding verbally.

They took off, soaring over the bay and flying over green hills. In no time, San Francisco was little more than a glittering crescent behind them.

Percy relaxed the further away they got, letting the weight of his captivity slide off his shoulders at last.

Silena and Prince kept dipping down, taking daring turns and just generally having a good time—though Percy thought she might’ve been playing it up a bit for Thalia, who looked like she was going to be sick everytime she glanced down.

Blackjack and the other two sped up gradually, until they were zipping through the air so fast they could’ve kept up with an airplane. At their current pace, they’d likely make it to Olympus by early morning—pegasi truly were incredible creatures, to be able to cross the entire United States in just a couple hours.

“It looks good on you,” Lee muttered in Percy’s ear, apropos of nothing, drawing him out of his thoughts. Percy quirked an eyebrow, turning his head to where Lee was leaning over his shoulder with red cheeks. 

“What does?”

“The—” Lee looked away, the blush on his cheeks darkening. “The white in your hair. It looks good on you. I meant to say it earlier.”

Percy flicked his eyes up, running a self-conscious hand through his hair where he knew the white was standing out against his dark bangs. “You really think so?”

“It—yeah, I do. It fits you.”

Percy smiled softly and then, not quite sure what came over him, twisted around to give Lee a light kiss on the cheek. He whipped back around as soon as he realized what he’d done, eyes wide as his face was flooded with so much heat he almost thought he was going to burst into flames.

He was suddenly incredibly aware of every point of contact between himself and Lee—how closely they were pressed together, how warm his arms were against Percy’s midsection, the insides of his thighs brushing up against the outside of Percy’s, his hard chest against the line of Percy’s spine.

Percy stared down at Blackjack’s mane intently, body taut as a bowstring, hoping more than anything that none of the pegasi could hear his thoughts—which were, essentially, a mantra of fuck fuck fuck what the fuck why did I—

“What…” Lee cleared his throat when his voice came out strangled, and Percy almost threw himself off of Blackjack’s back. “What was that for?”

“Just…thanks,” Percy forced his voice to come as even as he could make it.

“You already thanked me for coming to get you.”

“You saved my life,” Percy answered Lee’s unspoken question, “I think that deserves more than one thanks, don’t you?”

Lee was silent for a long time, and only Percy’s intense embarrassment kept him from turning to catch a glimpse at Lee’s face. He wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know what Lee was thinking, anyway.

Lee curled his arms tighter around Percy’s stomach, and he almost squeaked when the son of Apollo pulled Percy back to rest more on his chest.

“What—”

“You should get some rest,” Lee’s voice was warm—Percy thought he could almost feel the happiness radiating from Lee’s tone, only he wasn’t quite sure why Lee was so happy—and Percy relaxed as he realized he hadn’t ruined everything between the two of them. “We’ve still got a couple hours left until we reach New York, and you could use the rest before facing the rest of the Olympus. I’ll keep you from falling, don’t worry.”

“‘m not,” Percy mumbled, tipping his head back to rest on Lee’s shoulder. He was too tired to argue—too comfortable in Lee’s warm embrace to even try staying awake any longer. “I trust you.”

If Lee responded, Percy didn’t hear it, already slipping away into oblivion.

His dreams were fuzzy, slipping through his fingers like sand. He was sure he saw flashes of Luke Castellan stumbling up the gangway of the Princess Andromeda, looking pale and wan but sporting no visible broken bones—which, considering how far he’d fallen when Thalia had kicked him off the cliff, was…concerning, to say the least.

Percy shouldn’t have been surprised to see the son of Hermes had survived—the prophecy he’d given to Luke had said something about Luke becoming something worse than death…which implied he wouldn’t die, at least not yet.

The rest of his visions passed by too quickly for him to see more than the odd flash—Clarisse stumbling into the sunlight, Chris on his knees in a dark hallway with his hands over his ears, a green banner with a golden trident, a grove of trees with sunlight filtering softly through the branches.

Lee nudged him awake as they reached Manhattan, laughing quietly at Percy’s grumbling at having to move again. The few hours of sleep Percy had gotten on horseback hadn’t been near enough, but Percy didn’t feel five seconds away from collapsing anymore, so that was something.

Blackjack and the other two pegasi touched down lightly in the outer courtyard, just below the steps leading up to the throne room.

Blackjack tossed his head proudly, prancing around for a moment.

Here ya go, boss. One cross country flight in just over eight hours, and hardly broke a sweat.

“Good job, Blackjack,” Percy patted his neck as he preened. “You were a lifesaver, bud. You two as well,” he said to Prince and Ghost. “I’ll be sure to give all three of you a nice handful of sugar cubes when I’m back at camp, how’s that?”

Oh yeah!

Lee dismounted first, sliding gracefully to the ground and then holding his arms up expectantly.

Percy raised an eyebrow. “What? You don’t think I can dismount a pegasus without faceplanting?”

Lee gave him an unimpressed stare, “I wouldn’t put it past you, in your condition. Just accept the help, Perce.”

Percy rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face at Lee’s clear concern and care for him.

He crossed one leg over Blackjack’s back and slid down into Lee’s waiting arms.

His legs buckled as soon as they touched the marble—maybe Lee had a point in not trusting him to dismount on his own—and he was kept from hitting the ground only by Lee’s arms around his waist.

The son of Apollo let out a quiet oof as Percy stumbled into his chest, pulling him so close in an effort to keep him standing that their noses bumped against each other. Percy’s own hands shot out, gripping onto Lee’s waist as he tried to regain his balance.

“You were saying?” Lee’s voice was breathless, and when Percy looked into his friend’s eyes there was a strange look in them—one that he couldn’t even begin to decipher but that made his ears pink and his face redden.

“Shut up,” Percy couldn’t have stopped the soft smile that graced his lips if he’d wanted to. Percy and Lee were still impossibly close—Percy’s heart was beating so loudly he wondered if Lee could feel it, pressed together like they were. He had to tilt his face up just the slightest to meet Lee’s eyes—because the son of Apollo had gotten taller since Percy had seen him in person at the end of summer, stretching out and gaining a couple inches on Percy. He rather thought he could’ve stayed there for the rest of his life, lost in the blue of Lee’s eyes—because they were so blue, like the ocean in the middle of summer with the sun beating down on the waves and—

“You two done?” Thalia’s voice cut through Percy’s thoughts and he startled back, feeling cold as he and Lee both took a step back from each other.

“Wh—ah, yeah, yeah…we’re, um, I just—”

“He needed help getting down—”

“—kinda almost fell—”

Percy rubbed the back of his neck, secretly glad that Lee seemed as out of sorts as Percy, both of them stammering through an explanation.

Thalia kept a straight face through it all until the both of them petered out, and Percy pointedly didn’t look at Silena—he could already hear her stifled giggles and he really didn’t want to deal with whatever had her so amused.

“Right,” Thalia said slowly, “I’m not touching that. You gonna be able to walk on your own, Kelp Head, or do you need Lee to help you with that, too?”

Percy was almost certain he heard Silena mutter something to the side that sounded like I’m sure he wouldn’t mind but the daughter of Aphrodite looked suspiciously innocent when Percy whipped his head around to look at her.

“I can walk,” he grumbled.

“Good, we’re making enough of an entrance as it is. We could do without you being carried in like some pampered princess,” Thalia said.

Percy flipped her the bird, muttering that he was not pampered, and followed it up with a quiet fuck you that he was absolutely sure the daughter of Zeus heard if her amused snort was any indication.

The four of them stopped in front of the giant silver and white gates, hesitating briefly when the gates swung open on their own.

“Last chance, don’t suppose anyone wants to go get burgers instead?” Thalia asked with an uncharacteristic nervousness in her voice.

“Oh, man,” Percy sighed. “I could absolutely devour a double cheeseburger right now, I can’t remember the last time I had an actual meal.”

Silena squinted over at him accusingly, “I thought you said they were feeding you.” 

“They were,” Percy defended. “Just—I was pretty out of it, so they never managed to give me more than like a couple bites of a sandwich and I’ll be real honest and say I have no idea how often they woke me up to feed me.”

Lee lifted his eyes to the pale sky above them like he was praying to his father for patience. “Okay, no time to do anything about that right now, but rest assured you will be getting a full checkup and a substantial meal as soon as this is over.”

“Sorry?” Percy gave his friends a sheepish look, to which all three of them shook their heads in disbelief.

“Right,” Thalia said. “Cheeseburgers later, then. For now, into the lions’ den we go.”

The daughter of Zeus squared her shoulders like she was preparing to step onto the battlefield. Percy’s own tired muscles were tense from the anticipation and apprehension, but he followed Thalia’s lead as the four of them stepped into the throne room of the gods.

Chapter Text

Percy had been inside the throne room once before, when he’d returned Zeus’s master bolt, but only his father and uncle had been in the room then.

Now, every single enormous throne was occupied by a fifteen-foot-tall god or goddess, and Percy almost staggered as a wave of sensations washed over him.

It was too much—lightning and rain and waves crashing over him and the heat of the sun and the howling of wolves and roses and olives and blood in his mouth and vines curling over his arms and coiling shadows and—

Lee grasped Percy’s hand tightly, pushing away the Olympians’ auras with his own—the gentle heat of the first day of summer—until Percy felt like he could breathe again. He sent a grateful glance to his friend, pausing when he noticed Lee’s unusually pale face.

Of course, Lee felt auras much more intensely than Percy ever did. If Percy was overwhelmed, he could only imagine how much worse it was for Lee.

Percy squeezed Lee’s hand tighter as they followed tensely after Thalia and Silena.

“Welcome, heroes,” Artemis said from her glowing throne, wearing shimmering silver robes that glinted like a sparkling star.

“Perseus,” Poseidon called, and Percy turned in time to see his father slipping down from his own throne—ignoring Zeus’s warning rumble of his name—and shrinking down to human size as he strode over to Percy and his friends.

Percy barely had time to blink before Poseidon was pulling him forward into an embrace. 

Percy’s brain shut down.

His dad was hugging him. Dad was hugging him.

This was…had Poseidon ever—Percy remembered his dad grasping his shoulder and the back of his neck when the god had visited him in a dream several months ago but other than that…he didn’t think his dad had ever touched him before.

And now Poseidon was hugging him…in front of the entire Olympian council and Percy’s friends, no less.

The tide washed over his feet, the earth cracking beneath his heels as he melted into the feel of the sea around him.

“Hi, Dad.” Percy’s voice was muffled by his dad’s shirt—an obnoxious eyesore of a Hawaiian shirt—but he could tell Poseidon heard him by the way his arms tightened briefly before releasing him.

Poseidon reached up, cradling Percy’s face in his callused hands and looking him over with such clear concern that Percy wanted to cry—his dad could tell him a million times that he cared about Percy but Percy had spent his entire childhood with an abusive drunk telling him he wasn’t worth anything, so the depth of his father’s care always took him by surprise.

“Are you alright, son?”

“‘m okay,” Percy tried to reassure his father. Poseidon frowned, sweeping his thumbs over Percy’s cheeks.

“You’re cold. Did Apollo check you over?”

“Wh—I’m fine,” Percy said, but his dad was already turning to where Apollo was perched on his own golden throne.

“Did you check my son over?” Poseidon demanded over Percy’s continued protests.

“I’ll give him a full checkup once this is all over,” Apollo promised. “But I can’t sense anything too serious or life-threatening.”

“Too serious?” Poseidon asked, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

“Dad—”

“He’s not in any danger, Uncle, otherwise I would’ve already acted. I’ll give you the full report after the meeting,” Apollo assured.

Poseidon relaxed marginally at that while Percy sent a glare at the sun god.

Traitor, he mouthed.

Apollo frowned, but the corners of his mouth were quirking up when he responded. Almost died.

Not dying anymore, Percy argued silently.

“Percy,” his dad sighed, clearly having noticed Percy’s mouthed argument. “Just let Apollo check you over when this is all over, yes?”

“Fine,” Percy murmured, deflating under his father’s concerned gaze.

“Now that you have your assurances, brother,” Zeus interrupted, having reached the end of his patience. The King of the Gods gestured to Poseidon’s empty throne—the elegant deep-sea fisherman’s chair with a gleaming trident in the built-in holster—with an annoyed frown. “The boy isn’t going to keel over—”

“My son was captured by our father’s army and forced to hold the sky, brother,” Poseidon snapped, sending Zeus a glower that would’ve had any lesser deity cowering. The King of the Gods, however, simply raised a seemingly unbothered eyebrow, though Percy thought he could see a wary light in Zeus’s eyes.

“I believe I’m entitled to some measure of concern over my son,” Poseidon continued. “Just as you would be if your daughter came into prolonged contact with the pure embodiment of the sea as my son has done with the sky.”

Zeus’s hands clenched around the armrests of his solid platinum throne, eyes flicking over to where Thalia was standing, but before he could respond a soft voice spoke up from the center of the throne room.

“Peace, brothers.”

Percy perked up at the familiar voice, peering around his dad’s form to spot Hestia kneeling next to the crackling hearth.

“Aunt Hestia,” Percy greeted happily.

The goddess of the hearth smiled warmly back at him. “Nephew, it has been too long. Come, you and your friends may sit at the hearth with me while the rest of our family continue with their meeting.”

Poseidon turned, looking between his sister and his son curiously, but let Percy slip away with little more than a sigh.

The god of the seas returned to his throne as Percy settled next to Hestia, basking in the gentle warmth of the flames as his friends joined him cautiously.

“If we may finally return to the matter at hand,” Zeus said waspishly, to which Poseidon just rolled his eyes.

“The Council has been informed of the events of the past week,” Artemis said, tilting her head down to address the demigods sitting around the crackling hearth. “They know of your deeds. They know that Mount Othrys is rising in the West, and that an army gathers under the Titan Lord’s banners. In the face of overwhelming proof of Kronos’s attempt to rise, we have voted to act.”

Several of the Olympians shuffled uncomfortably as though unhappy with the verdict, but didn’t make any verbal protest.

“All that is left now is to decide what actions are most appropriate,” Athena spoke up, her gray eyes staring down at Percy like she was dissecting him in her mind.

“The manticore my Hunters and I faced spoke of the return of powerful monsters stirring,” Artemis said thoughtfully. “One in particular, he said, was the most important of all—one that would bring about the downfall of Olympus. I know not of which beast he spoke of, even when I tracked him down he refused to elaborate. But still, this beast must be found.”

Percy looked down at the flames in front of him, hoping that his face didn’t betray him. He knew, as did his father, what beast Thorn had been referring to.

The Ophiotaurus, whose sacrificed entrails were prophesied to give one the power to overthrow Olympus.

“As must the other ancient monsters that are stirring,” Poseidon said, and when Percy chanced a glance up he found his father sporting a truly impressive poker face. “This other beast will rear its head in time, I’m sure, but we cannot become too focused on one monster.”

Zeus gave a considering hum. “Very well. Artemis, Apollo, you two will seek and destroy these stirring monsters before they can join the Titan’s cause.”

The two archers dipped their heads in acknowledgement. 

“And what of the other Titans?” Athena asked. “If Atlas has attempted to escape, and temporarily succeeded at that, should we not expect the other imprisoned Titans to do the same? With your leave, Father, I wish to personally check on the other imprisoned Titans to make sure they do not escape their prisons.”

“You have my leave,” Zeus said approvingly.

Percy caught Thalia’s eye from across the fire and they shared a commiserating glance—who could’ve guessed a council of the gods was so boring, honestly.

He zoned out for the next half hour as the Olympians debated what other actions to take, idly noting the rest of his friends doing the same—Silena looked like she was doodling something on Thalia’s hand, and Thalia herself was messing around with a ball of electricity in her other palm.

Percy looked over at Lee, blinking when he saw the son of Apollo was already watching him. He raised a curious eyebrow and Lee fidgeted, the tips of his ears pinking.

“And what of these heroes, then?” Hera’s voice brought Percy back to the conversation abruptly.

Percy tensed at the question, feeling the heavy weight of the Olympian’s stares on his shoulders. His friends looked uncomfortable, too, as the attention returned to their group.

“They have done Olympus a great service, have they not?” Artemis said lightly, but her silver eyes were serious as she stared down her stepmother.

“Maybe so,” Hera admitted. “But we also cannot deny the risk Zeus and Poseidon’s children pose.”

Percy met Thalia’s gaze, a sliver of fear running through his veins. Was Hera really going to talk about this while they were literally in the room with them?

“They’re dangerous,” Ares growled. “And they’re here already, so why don’t we just—”

“Think carefully before you finish that sentence, Ares.” Poseidon interrupted darkly.

Ares sat back on his throne at the unsaid threat in Poseidon’s voice, his mouth clacking shut.

“I have just seen my son returned from captivity at the Titan army’s hands. I will not tolerate another threat to his life.”

Percy relaxed at his father’s words—at Poseidon’s stalwart refusal to entertain the possibility of getting rid of Percy.

“I must concur with Hera and Ares,” Athena said calmly, ignoring Poseidon’s furious snarl. “The Great Prophecy tells us that a child of the three elder gods could bring about our destruction. As such, we must consider the possibility that these two are simply too dangerous to be left alive.”

“We’re not killing either of them,” Apollo snapped.

“I am simply pointing out the risks,” Athena said. “The girl is set to turn sixteen upon the morrow, how are we to know what choice she is to make? It is worth discussing.”

Percy tilted his head, still holding Thalia’s gaze. He dipped his head in understanding at the sliver of guilt in her eyes, already knowing what choice she was going to make even before she stood up.

“I will not,” Thalia said firmly.

“You will not…what?” Hermes asked.

“Turn sixteen. This prophecy will not be mine.”

“But…” Zeus frowned, speaking up for the first time in the debate, his eyes full of concern as he stared down at the daughter he’d turned into a pine tree in an effort to avoid her death.

“I would seek to join my sister’s Hunt, if she’ll have me.” Thalia turned to Artemis, her back straight and her shoulders set.

“I would have you,” Artemis said warmly. “I find myself in need of a new Lieutenant, now that my faithful companion, Zoë, has passed on. I can think of no better than you, Thalia.”

Thalia knelt at Artemis’s feet, reciting the oath of the Hunters of Artemis. Percy closed his eyes as she finished speaking, feeling the weight of the Great Prophecy settle on his shoulders more firmly. Kronos had told him in the summer that the prophecy clung to him even then, at thirteen, and Percy had known that the Titan had been speaking the truth. Apollo had confirmed as much when they’d spoken in one of Percy’s dreams.

The prophecy had always been Percy’s.

“That solves the issue of the girl, but the boy is still a danger,” Athena reminded the council as Thalia sat back down at the hearth, glowing faintly under her new oath.

“Absolutely not,” Poseidon and Apollo spoke in unison.

“Poseidon’s refusal is no surprise,” Hera said. “But I would think you, Apollo, of all of us, would understand the risks of the Great Prophecy coming to pass.”

Percy stiffened as Apollo’s head turned down to him, an unspoken question in his eyes. Percy hesitated for a moment, weighing the risks before deciding fuck it. Kronos and his army were already well aware of Percy’s abilities. It did him little good to cling to his secrets now.

He forced down the fear that had plagued his life ever since he’d realized what he was, and gave the god a single nod.

A pleased grin flickered across Apollo’s face for half a second before he returned to his previous serious expression, leaning back on his throne and tilting his head up. “He is my prophet, and I would not see him harmed.”

There was a singular beat of silence before the entire council of the gods—with the exception of Artemis, who already knew, and Apollo, who was undoubtedly very smug about the whole thing even if his face was impressively stoic—burst into a series of yelling and screaming.

“Huh,” Percy said quietly to his friends. “Gotta be honest, this is more like what I thought their council meetings would be like.”

Lee snorted, dropping his head in his hands to hide his own amusement.

Thalia blinked away her own shock quickly, her electric blue eyes appraising him consideringly like she was looking back on everything Percy had ever done under a new lens before giving him a short nod.

“He is your what?”

Percy’s eyes widened as his father’s voice cut above the din, silencing the other Olympians in an instant.

“He is my prophet,” Apollo repeated calmly, refusing to cower under Poseidon’s gaze.

“You…made my son one of your prophets.”

“Your son was born with sight, Uncle. I didn’t give him his abilities or make him one of my prophets, he simply is a prophet. As I am the god of prophecy, that makes him my prophet.”

“You would lay a claim on my son,” Poseidon said dangerously.

“He is a prophet and I am the god of prophecy. Of course I have a claim on him,” Apollo retorted.

“He is my son, Apollo—”

“He is my prophet—”

“I can be both, you know,” Percy said mildly. Both gods turned to look at him, and Percy raised an eyebrow at their uncomprehending stares. “I can—these two things are not contradictory to each other. I can be both at the same time.”

Poseidon breathed out sharply through his nose, “I—alright.”

Apollo sighed, “I suppose.”

Percy dared to relax for all of five seconds before they started up again.

“Of course, you are my son first—”

“Oh, pffft, he’s my prophet before he’s your—”

The two Olympian gods dissolved into petty bickering like little kids while the rest of the room watched in baffled amusement.

“What the fuck,” Percy whispered to himself.

Lee leaned over, his eyes still locked on the pair of arguing immortal deities. “Are they really…”

“What the fuck,” Percy repeated.

“What the fuck,” Lee echoed.

None of the Olympians seemed at all interested in interrupting the argument—in fact, all of them seemed highly amused by the entire conversation. Even Hestia was watching with a grin on her lips.

Percy tore his gaze away from his, honest to gods, pouting father and ridiculously smug mentor to look over at Lee.

“I feel like a child in the middle of a custody battle,” he said.

Lee snorted, biting his lip in an effort to keep his laughter contained. Percy’s lips were twitching, but he kept it together up until Lee broke and then both of them were dissolving into giggles.

They laughed for longer than they should’ve, in all honesty, because every time one of them petered out they caught a glimpse of the other or looked up at their still bickering parents and started giggling all over again.

Eventually, though, Percy’s laughs turned into coughs, the air scraping painfully out of his still battered throat, and Lee’s amusement faded as he watched Percy struggle to bring air back into his lungs.

Percy leaned tiredly on his friend’s shoulder once he’d gotten his breath back, still wheezing slightly from the effort.

“You good?” Lee murmured, wrapping a warm arm around Percy’s shoulders and drawing him in closer.

“Been better,” Percy admitted quietly. “I just want to lay down in an actual bed and sleep for a week, if I’m being honest.” Or submerge himself in the ocean. That was an equally acceptable option.

“I’m sure they’ll stop soon and we can get you home, Perce,” Silena said sympathetically. 

“If not, you could probably slip out and they wouldn’t even notice,” Thalia suggested with a light smirk.

“Probably not,” Silena agreed.

“That won’t be necessary, children,” Hestia smiled softly before turning and tilting her head up to face the bickering pair. “Brother, nephew, might I suggest you continue this conversation at a later time? I believe your children might benefit from some rest.”

Poseidon and Apollo stopped instantly, the fight draining out of them when Hestia gestured with her head to Percy curled up against Lee’s side.

“Of course, sister,” Poseidon agreed. Percy’s father slipped down from his throne, shrinking to human size once more and making his way to the crackling hearth.

Poseidon pulled Percy to his feet, cradling his face and frowning at Percy’s temperature. “You’re still quite cold. Apollo?”

Apollo was quick to join him, the sun god’s smugness taking a back seat as he shifted into healer mode.

“Right,” Apollo smiled. “Let’s get you out of here and get you that full checkup I promised.”

“I’m really fine,” Percy tried, despite knowing it was futile.

All three of his friends snorted in unison, and Percy glared down at them in betrayal.

“Uh huh,” Apollo said, “I can see that. You’re only standing because your dad’s holding you up, Percy.”

Percy slumped into his father’s warm hands, unable to deny that his legs weren’t quite supporting him as much as he wanted them to.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” Poseidon drew Percy into his side, beginning to lead him to the doors of the throne room.

Percy sent a parting wave to his friends, though he was sure he’d see them again once the checkup was over.

They made it halfway to the doors before a disgruntled voice spoke up from behind them.

“I do not recall concluding our meeting.”

Poseidon turned on his heel, Percy still leaning against his side. “And what did we have left to discuss? Surely not the matter of my son.”

Riptides twisted around Percy’s ankles at Poseidon’s tone—a hidden current itching to drag unsuspecting people out to sea, waiting in the depths for a chance to strike.

Apollo appeared on Percy’s other side, raising a contemptuous eyebrow at his father. Heat blazed over his skin, and his whole body thrummed as the beating of a war drum vibrated through his bones.

“Yes, surely the matter is no longer up for discussion. Perseus Jackson is my prophet. Any who would dare lay a hand on him will face my wrath.”

“And mine,” Poseidon added darkly.

Percy could see the shift in every single Olympian still perched on their throne, the way they leaned back almost imperceptibly as Poseidon and Apollo, unequivocally, in no uncertain terms, threw their entire support behind Percy.

Zeus let out a sharp breath. “Very well. The matter is closed. And now, let us celebrate Apollo’s safe return from the grasp of the Titans and the actions these heroes took to free him.”

The King of the Gods waved his hand, and the throne room shifted into party mode. Hermes gave a loud whoop as a straight up disco ball—except it was the size of a minivan—appeared, casting a shimmering light on the entire room. 

The doors opened and a whole host of people spilled into the room—satyrs, nymphs, minor deities, Percy even spotted several demigods from camp that must’ve come up for the field trip. He’d have to make the rounds later and talk to everyone—assuming Apollo and Poseidon ever let him out of their grasps.

“Ooh, I do love celebrations in my honor,” Apollo said. “Let’s get you all fixed up and then come back and party, whatd’ya say?”

“I say party first, checkup never.”

Poseidon sighed, “Perseus, will you just let us care for you?”

“I…” Percy bit his lip, “I’m just not…”

Not used to it.

Before camp—before meeting Grover—the only person that had ever cared for him had been his mom. She’d been the only one that ever watched out for him when everyone else—Gabe, the teachers, his peers—had only ever wanted him to fail.

It wasn’t easy to accept help when Percy’d spent most of his life being told he didn’t deserve it—wasn’t easy to believe people cared about him when Gabe had spent years telling him he was unlovable and worthless and had always followed up his insults with a swinging fist.

Poseidon’s face softened, pain flickering through his sea-green eyes as he caught Percy’s meaning.

“It’s okay to accept help, my son. To let others take care of you. Let us take care of you.”

Percy ducked his head, forcing a quiet acceptance out of his tight throat.

“Wonderful,” Apollo said brightly. “Now, I say we take this out to one of the gardens. Or, if you prefer, the infirmary in my temple?”

Percy grimaced at the thought. “Garden, please. I’ve been stuck in a cell for the past however many days. I could use the fresh air.”

“Garden it is,” Apollo said casually, but there was a slight strain to his voice, like the reminder of where Percy’d been the past week had taken the wind out of his sails.

They slipped out of the throne room without further interruption, dodging around partying deities and demigods.

Percy’s dad refused to let him go, stating that he didn’t believe Percy could walk on his own—which was, quite frankly, rude, and also completely true.

“Alright,” Apollo rubbed his hands together as soon as they reached a secluded garden and Poseidon deposited Percy on a marble bench. “Let’s take a look at you.”

Apollo’s blue eyes glowed as he looked up and down Percy’s body for several extremely long seconds. 

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm?” Poseidon repeated. “What does ‘hmmm’ mean?”

“Hold your horses, uncle,” Apollo muttered, “I’m still looking.”

Poseidon scowled, slumping down on the bench next to Percy impatiently.

“Well, right off the bat, you’re dehydrated—I doubt they were giving you the amount of water you need as a son of Poseidon to stay healthy—and I’m also seeing some malnourishment.”

“They weren’t feeding me too much either,” Percy said.

“Hmmm,” Apollo narrowed his eyes. “Yes, that would cause some of it, but…how much would you say you eat regularly?”

Percy, sensing where Apollo was going—because Lee said the same things every time he checked Percy over—stiffened. “A…regular amount for someone my age.”

Apollo looked distinctly unimpressed. “Uh huh.”

“Are you saying he’s not eating enough?”

“It’s fine,” Percy rushed to reassure his dad. “I’m—I’m just not always hungry, is all. I’ve…been working on it.”

“You have?” Apollo asked.

“Lee,” was all Percy said, and understanding crossed Apollo’s face.

“Ah, well, if you’re already working on it—and my son’s already lectured you about it—I’ll skip that for now. The dehydration is an easy fix, so I’m not worried about that. Your joints and muscles are under some strain—that’s why you’re having so much trouble moving around.”

“From me holding up the sky.”

“Yes,” Apollo grimaced. “It put a significant amount of strain on your entire body, but your joints and muscles are suffering the most from it. I can heal the worst of it, but I’d still caution you to stay away from any strenuous activities for at least a week or two.”

“Can’t say I didn’t expect that,” Percy sighed.

“I’ll heal the bruising around your throat as well, get rid of any lasting tenderness—”

“How did that happen, again?” Poseidon interjected, his gaze caught on what Percy knew was an impressive ring of purple around his neck—almost certainly in the shape of a hand.

“I have a very chokable throat, apparently.”

“Perseus.”

“Atlas grabbed me by the throat and almost snapped my neck,” Percy said sheepishly.

Poseidon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re going to give me gray hairs, kid.”

“Sorry?”

Poseidon shook his head, pulling Percy into a careful hug. “Don’t apologize, my son. You’ve nothing to be sorry for.”

“Oh…okay.” Percy blinked rapidly as emotions welled up in his throat.

“Right, well,” Apollo cleared his throat awkwardly. “You’ve got an assortment of cuts and bruises that I’ll heal as well, so don’t worry about those. The biggest cause for concern is the…aftereffects of you holding the sky.”

“You mean the cold spells I keep getting,” Percy checked.

“Yes,” Apollo pursed his lips. “Holding the sky for as long as you did—as a son of Poseidon, no less—it's…caused some issues.”

Apollo paused, looking uncharacteristically somber, and Percy lifted his head from his dad’s shoulder.

“How serious?” Poseidon asked the question before Percy could.

“Nothing life-threatening,” Apollo assured them. “And nothing that won’t lessen with time, but…Percy, when I took the sky from you, you were almost dead. The strain of the sky was minutes away from killing you.”

Poseidon’s grip tightened until it was almost painful.

“Touching the sky for that long as a son of the sea, coming so close to death, it’s…well, you’ll likely always struggle to retain a comfortable temperature.”

“I’ll keep getting the cold spells, you mean.”

“They’ll lessen with time, but…yes, I expect you’ll keep getting them,” Apollo said. “You’ll lose warmth quicker and find it much more difficult to thrive in colder temperatures than before. You’ll also likely see a return in the cold spells if and when you overuse your abilities.”

Percy looked down at his lap. Trepidation surged in his chest.

Would they still…if he wasn’t—

“And you’re saying you can’t—can’t fix this?” Poseidon’s voice was trembling.

Apollo frowned deeply. “If he’d been placed in the ocean immediately afterwards, or if they’d let me treat him before it got worse, then I might’ve been able to reverse the effects. But even if…Poseidon, your son held the sky for almost twelve hours.”

Poseidon reeled back, his skin paling. Percy felt a thrum of shock ripple through his own body.

Twelve hours?

There’s no way…surely he didn’t hold it that long. He couldn’t have.

“It should’ve killed him,” Apollo continued. “I don’t know—even if I had been allowed to treat him or he’d been taken to the sea, I can’t say for sure that he would’ve made a full recovery. All things considered, we got lucky.”

Lucky?

“Lucky?” Poseidon tightened his grip on Percy’s shoulders, pulling him closer until all Percy could see was his father’s ghastly Hawaiian shirt.

“A tendency to run cold is manageable,” Apollo told them both. “You wear a lot of layers, you invest in a good heater and a bunch of blankets, you sit out in the sun a lot…it’s not the end of the world. It’s entirely manageable, even if not fixable. And, like I said, the effects will lessen with time.”

“Right,” Poseidon’s voice was still tight, but he relaxed his grip marginally on Percy.

Percy, however, had sunk deeper into his spiral of panic.

He was—this was a permanent problem. He would always suffer from this. And the others—his friends, his dad, Apollo—they thought he was worth the effort now, but how could they…

Why would they bother with him when all he did was cause problems and be difficult and be weak? They should just cut their losses. He wasn’t worth it—

Percy dug his nails sharply into his palm, trying to chase away the nasty voice in his head—the one that sounded far too much like Gabe.

A warm hand unclenched Percy’s fist, rubbing heat back into his shaking fingers and passing their fingertips over the marks his nails had left in his palm to heal them.

“Kid?”

Percy forced his eyes up to where Apollo was now crouching in front of him, still holding Percy’s hand gently and looking at him in concern.

“It’s gonna be alright, Percy, this is—”

“It’s not,” Percy said hoarsely. “It’s not—how can you—”

Percy ripped his hand away from Apollo, pushing himself to his feet and pacing away from the two gods.

“Perseus,” his father called, reaching out as if to pull him back, but Percy dodged the hands.

“No. No, you can’t just—you just told me I’m going to be fucked up for the rest of my life, that’s not—how can anyone…”

Poseidon stepped around to Percy’s front, pulling Percy’s hands down from where they’d been pulling roughly at his hair.

The god of the seas grasped Percy’s face gently, forcing Percy to lock eyes with his father. 

“You are not…Perseus, you are not fucked up. You are my son. You will always be my son. You…having a condition doesn’t change that. I am always going to look out for you. I am always going to care about you.”

“But if I’m not—” Percy’s voice broke.

“If you’re not what? Perfect? Perseus, my son, nobody is. Us gods are far from perfect—I know Apollo and I both have our fair share of myths in which we make plenty of mistakes. Do you truly think that needing some help from time to time would make me not want you?”

“Why would you?” Percy whispered miserably—Gabe’s scathing words echoing in his ears, the man’s hatred and disdain seeping into his arteries until it was all he could feel, all he could think.

“Do you truly think so little of me?”

“No,” Percy said vehemently. “No, it’s not—I just…I’m not worth that much. Why would anybody…”

“You are worth everything, my son.” Poseidon said firmly.

“On that much, your father and I are in agreement,” Apollo spoke up. “And I, for one, would like to know just who exactly in your life made you believe you weren’t worth anything. I’d like to pay them a visit.” The god’s eyes were glowing, and Percy could see the heat waves emanating off of his body.

“He’s already dead,” Percy sniffed. “Mom turned him to stone with Medusa’s head.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Apollo blinked, looking taken aback.

“He was a piece of shit,” Percy said, his face still trapped in his father’s callused hands. “So, I gave Mom Medusa’s head and she turned him to stone and sold his statue so she could start taking night classes.”

“Ah,” Poseidon said slowly into the stunned silence that followed Percy’s words. “Your mortal stepfather, yes?”

Percy nodded and Poseidon gave a low hum.

“Wait, you knew about this guy?” Apollo narrowed his eyes at Poseidon.

“I knew he was a…less than pleasant individual,” Poseidon admitted. “But not, I think, the extent of his misdeeds. Tell me, Perseus, just how badly did this man treat you and your mother?”

“It’s not important,” Percy tried.

“Perseus.”

Percy met his father’s gaze, the sea-green fading away into swirling hurricanes, and deflated.

“He was a drunk,” Percy said eventually. “And sometimes when he drank, he got violent. And sometimes even when he wasn’t drinking…he said—he told me that if I—if I kept quiet about it he wouldn’t hurt Mom so I never…only found out later he was telling her the same shit.”

Poseidon’s hands tightened around Percy’s face, his thumbs sweeping softly over Percy’s cheeks, before the god drew him into a tight hug.

“If I had known,” was all Poseidon said. Percy said nothing, letting his father wrap him in his arms without protest—and if Percy buried his face in his dad’s chest and let a few silent tears escape, well, that was just between his father and him.

“I think,” Poseidon said, pulling back after several long moments. “That I ought to pay my older brother a visit. What do you say, nephew?”

“Count me in,” Apollo’s voice was dark with rage, his body every inch the Protector of the Youth he had been named.

“Wh—hold up, you don’t have to—”

“Have to? No. Want to, on the other hand,” Apollo said. 

Percy looked between the two gods—two gods that wanted nothing more than to protect him, to care about him, to avenge him—and accepted that he was fighting a losing battle.

He shook his head lightly. “Just leave me out of it, yeah? The less I have to think about that bastard the better.”

“Fair enough,” Apollo agreed easily. “Now, if your father would care to relinquish his hold on you, I could get on with healing you.”

Poseidon grumbled but let his arms drop, taking a step back so that Apollo could slide in front.

Apollo grasped his shoulders gently, and Percy almost groaned at the warmth that flooded through his veins at the touch.

He didn’t feel very different when Apollo stepped away, but a quick prod at his previously tender throat proved that his bruises were gone. Percy felt more stable, too. His muscles weren’t constantly protesting his every movement, his knees weren’t threatening to buckle every few seconds, his wrists and ankles weren’t aching…all in all, Percy felt loads better.

“There we go,” Apollo smiled. “A few weeks without any strenuous activity, plenty of rest and food and fluids, and you should be pretty much back to normal.”

“Except for the temperature thing.”

“Except for that,” Apollo said. “But that’s easily manageable, kid. Nobody’s going to think any less of you just because you need to wear a few more layers.”

Okay, when Apollo put it like that…

“And the ocean will help, yes?” Poseidon asked.

“Definitely,” Apollo confirmed.

Poseidon nodded determinedly. “I guess it's a good thing we were already planning a visit then.”

Percy returned his father’s smile tentatively, unable to deny that he was very much looking forward to the chance to visit Poseidon’s underwater kingdom.

“And you’re sure it’s—”

“Not a big deal,” Poseidon finished. “A tendency to run cold is nothing, Perseus. Easily manageable.”

“Besides, if you ever get really bad,” Apollo smirked. “One of the best ways to get warm is body heat, and I happen—”

“Apollo,” Poseidon growled as Percy turned beet red.

Apollo rolled his eyes, “I was going to say that I happen to know that my kids run just as warm as I do—that is to say…hot.”

The sun god winked and a strangled sort of noise left Percy’s throat.

“I’m sure Lee wouldn’t mind giving you a little snuggle every now and—”

“And I’m going now,” Percy turned abruptly, leaving the snickering sun god with his suddenly very amused father—traitors, the both of them.

“Oh, come on, Percy.”

Percy could practically hear the smug teasing grin on Apollo’s face.

“Just a little cuddle when you’re feeling cold—”

“I’m leaving,” Percy called back, not bothering to turn around.

The two gods were still laughing when Percy ducked out of the garden and headed back to the throne room to rejoin the party.

Luckily, the walk was just long enough that any signs of Percy’s embarrassment—or the emotional conversation before that—had faded by the time he slipped back into the throne room.

Once inside he paused, taking in the ongoing celebration—man, Olympians sure knew how to throw a party. There were…entirely too many people in the throne room.

Ugh.

Percy needed to find his friends before they assumed he left without them.

The first demigods he came across were the Stolls, huddled close together and whispering fervently—planning something, no doubt.

“Try not to pull something that’ll get you two disintegrated, yeah?” Percy popped up behind them, relishing in the surprised screeches they let out.

“Holy Hera, man,” Connor put a hand on his chest. “Don’t sneak up on us like that.”

“Didn’t even think it was possible to sneak up on you two,” Percy smirked.

Travis’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to respond before pausing like he was only then realizing who he was talking to.

“Dude!” 

Percy found himself crushed in a tight hug, sandwiched between his two friends.

“You had us worried, man,” Connor slapped his back once the brothers had released him.

“Where’s the faith, Connor?” Percy laid a hand on his chest, trying to feign offense even though his grin gave it away.

“Faith is for people who didn’t watch Annabeth break down in tears trying to tell us what happened to you,” Travis said.

Percy winced. “Fair enough.”

“You talked to her yet?”

Percy shook his head. “Been getting the full workup from Apollo and my dad, you two are the first I’ve seen other than Lee and the rest of the quest. Any idea where she is?”

“Last I saw her she was talking to Thalia near the refreshment stands,” Travis told him. “She’ll be happy to see you—she’s been a mess all week, especially since she couldn’t go on the quest to rescue you.”

“Right, I’ll go try and find her before she tracks me down herself,” Percy saluted his friends, wishing them good luck on their plan before slipping back into the crowd.

He passed several more clumps of campers visiting Olympus for the field trip and found himself pulled into several group hugs and also a fair amount of heated debates. Katie and the Dionysus twins sidetracked him for a full ten minutes by asking him what flowers made the best flower crowns—Katie insisted sunflowers and daisies were superior while Castor was arguing in support of hydrangeas and lavender. Pollux, who had absolutely no opinion on the matter, kept suggesting more and more outrageous flowers just to rile his brother and Katie up more. 

Percy spent a solid ten minutes listening to their reasonings and offering his own input—which somehow ended in both demigods wrangling him into a promise to visit camp soon so they could make their desired flower crowns for him to try on and officially judge which one was better—before remembering his original mission and continuing on his way to the refreshment tables to find Annabeth.

The daughter of Athena was, luckily, still talking to Thalia, and both demigods turned when Percy sidled up to them.

“Percy!” Annabeth wrapped her arms around his neck, dragging him into a hug that he returned enthusiastically.

“Hey, Wise Girl.”

“I was looking for you, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth pulled back, socking him lightly in the arm. “We were beginning to think you skipped out on us.”

“The thought crossed my mind,” Percy admitted. “I’m so tired and I really just want to sleep in an actual bed. Figured I should make the rounds first though, so you don’t think I went and got myself kidnapped again.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you,” Thalia snorted. “You get a clean bill of health from Apollo and your dad? I’m surprised they let you leave their sight so soon—they practically frog-marched you out of here earlier.”

“Ugh,” Percy groaned. “Don’t even—they’re such motherhens it’s…oh fuck—my mom! Oh, she’s gotta be so worried.” A shock of horror and guilt ran through him. “I told her I’d call her to let her know we were safe like a week ago—”

“Chiron and I let her know what happened,” Annabeth assured him, and Percy felt the blood leave his face so quickly that Thalia actually reached out to steady him in concern.

“You told my mom I fell off a cliff and got captured by the Titans?”

Annabeth looked slightly sheepish. “Yes? But we told her about the quest being assigned so she knows people went after you.”

“Oh,” Percy relaxed marginally. “Okay, that’s—it could be worse, honestly. At least she doesn’t think I’m dead. Still, I’ll swing by the apartment after this and let her know I’m alright.”

“Are you going to spend the rest of break at camp?” Annabeth asked, her gray eyes shining with something Percy couldn’t decipher—excitement? Apprehension? Hope?

“I…” Percy hesitated. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I mean, that was the plan before everything at Westover Hall, so…probably? I’ll talk about it with my mom when I see her.”

Percy’s eyes caught on the cane in Annabeth’s hand and the clunky brace around her knee. “Are you okay? How did that happen?”

Annabeth grimaced, “Capture the Flag with the Hunters. Will says I should make a full recovery as long as I’m careful, so I suppose it could be worse.”

Percy made a small noise of agreement.

Thalia’s face stretched into a teasing grin. “Mostly she’s mad that it meant she couldn’t go on the quest.” The daughter of Zeus nudged a scowling Annabeth.

“It’s not fair,” Annabeth grumbled. “That’s the second quest in a row I haven’t gone on. Lee got to go. And on this quest specifically—it’s not fair and I don’t like it.”

There was a weird emphasis on Lee’s name, but Percy couldn’t figure out what Annabeth meant. Sure, Lee hadn’t been on a quest before but technically neither had Thalia—or Bianca—so Annabeth couldn’t be mad about someone less experienced taking her place.

“What about this quest specifically?” Percy asked, pushing away the Lee thing in favor of the rest of Annabeth’s declaration.

Annabeth gave him the look she usually reserved for when Percy was being particularly obtuse—a common look on her, to be honest—and didn’t respond. Thalia dropped her face in her palm with a muffled ‘dude.’

Percy frowned, looking between the two of them in confusion. “What?”

“For you, you dumbass,” Thalia said eventually.

“I don’t understand,” Percy said, now even more confused.

“I didn’t get to go on the quest to rescue you, Seaweed Brain. I just had to sit back at camp and hope that the others brought you back. I couldn’t do anything to help.”

“Oh,” Percy rubbed the back of his neck with a hand as he realized why Annabeth was so frustrated. 

She was mad she hadn’t been able to save him. Percy understood that. He probably would’ve lost his mind if one of his friends had been captured instead and he’d just had to sit at camp and wait.

“It’s—I get it. I probably would’ve lost it if I were in your position. But I’m…I mean, thanks.” Percy hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt, but Thalia’s smirk told him it was.

“I didn’t even do anything,” Annabeth said.

“But you wanted to,” Percy shrugged. “It’s not your fault you got hurt and couldn’t come get me.”

Annabeth grinned, some of the frustration bleeding out of her posture. “Course I wanted to, Seaweed Brain. You’re my—my best friend.”

Thalia coughed something into her fist Percy didn’t catch that had Annabeth smacking the daughter of Zeus with a scowl, but he ignored whatever Thalia’s problem was to return Annabeth’s smile brightly.

“You’re my best friend, too,” he said sincerely. He missed Annabeth’s response when he heard a familiar bleating noise, turning just in time for Grover to almost bowl him over.

“Perrrr-cy!”

“Hey, G-man,” Percy smiled as Grover practically lifted him off his feet with the force of the satyr’s hug.

“I was so worried, man. Don’t ever do that again,” Grover sniffed, drawing back until Percy could see his red eyes.

“I’ll do my best,” Percy said. 

Grover narrowed his eyes, but he seemed to know that he was fighting a losing battle and relented.

“Grover, why don’t you tell Percy and Thalia what happened at camp while they were gone?” Annabeth suggested, and Percy and Thalia raised identical eyebrows.

“Something happened?” Thalia asked.

Grover’s eyes lit up and he nodded emphatically. “I was in the woods a couple days ago and—and it came out of nowhere and I kind of passed out, but it was definitely—and I’ve been searching the woods ever since but I haven’t heard it again!”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows, exchanging a look with Thalia to see that she was as lost as he was. 

“Can you repeat that? Maybe with a few more details? Cause I think I missed what exactly happened.”

Grover blushed, but his eyes were still bright when he spoke again. “I heard him, Percy. I heard the voice of Pan in the woods at camp. He was—he spoke to me.”

“Pan spoke to you?” Thalia asked, a look of awe flashing across her face. “What did he say?”

“Just…I await you. That’s it. I’ve been going back to the woods to see if he’ll speak to me again but…”

“But he spoke to you, G-man. That’s—that’s awesome. I mean, nobody’s heard from Pan in millenia, and he spoke to you.” Percy nudged his friend when Grover started looking dejected.

“You’re right, Perce. I just…I feel like I’m so close.”

“You’ll find him,” Percy said confidently, “I know you will.”

Grover beamed over at him and then Percy’s eyes caught Lee talking with a few of his siblings at a nearby table. Suddenly overwhelmed with the need to talk to Lee—and maybe he was also a little cold, sue him—he bid a quick goodbye to Thalia, Annabeth, and Grover.

“I’ll—um, I’ll see you guys at camp, yeah? And have fun with the Hunters, Pinecone Face, we’ll have set up an I-M schedule to complain about our dads and all that Big Three kid stuff now that you’ve decided to leave me—”

Percy dodged Thalia’s swipe with a snicker. “Seriously, though, have fun with them. I’m sure we’ll see each other soon, but, uh, I’m gonna…”

Thalia waved him off with a knowing grin. “Yeah, yeah, go away already.”

Percy stuck out his tongue, giving a final wave to a strangely dejected looking Annabeth and a still smiling Grover before making his way to Lee.

“Hey,” he slid into the circle neatly and slotted himself at Lee’s side.

Will and Kayla both gave him enthusiastic greetings as Lee turned to him with a bright grin.

“Was wondering when you’d reappear,” Lee said warmly. “You look better, so I guess my dad managed to give you that checkup without you finagling your way out of it.”

“I tried,” Percy sighed. “He and my dad make a surprisingly efficient team when they’re not bickering over me like two divorced parents fighting for sole custody.”

“Oh, man. I would’ve paid to see you get out-stubborned by an Apollo-Poseidon team up,” Will laughed.

“I’m not that bad,” Percy looked over to Lee, who just raised an eyebrow.

“Your dad was practically carrying you out of here and you were still trying to convince them you didn’t need a checkup.”

Percy grumbled something about traitors and motherhens that had the Apollo kids cracking up.

Percy kicked at the back of Lee’s knee petulantly. “Stop laughing at me,” he complained.

“Fine, fine, I’m done—stop kicking me,” Lee dodged away, but made a visible effort to stop laughing.

“So, what’d my dad say anyways? You guys were gone for a while.” 

Percy grimaced, casting an awkward glance over to where Will and Kayla had been standing only to find that they’d slipped away sometime in the last couple seconds.

“Come on,” Lee grabbed his hand and pulled him over to a quiet corner of the throne room so they could talk without anyone overhearing.

The son of Apollo was quiet for what felt like an eternity once Percy had finished divulging the results of Apollo’s examination.

“Okay,” Lee said eventually, his tone light and easy.

“I—okay? That’s it?”

Lee shrugged like it was no big deal, “I mean, it’s just a little low temperature. Wear a couple layers, sit out in the sun…”

“You sound like your dad.”

“He makes good points sometimes,” Lee flashed him a grin. “But seriously, Perce. It doesn’t change anything with me, and it won’t with any of our friends either. You’re just a little cold-blooded now, that’s all. Like a shark.”

“A…shark,” Percy said slowly.

“Yep.”

“Like a shark,” Percy looked down at his hands—at his cold fingertips and calloused palms—and tried to believe it was as simple as Lee seemed to believe it was.

“Like a shark,” Lee smiled, a teasing glint flickering in his blue eyes. 

Percy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Don’t you dare make that a—”

“It’s a thing,” Lee confirmed. “You can’t escape it, Hammerhead.”

“I—hammerhead?!”

“If you were a shark, you would one hundred percent be a hammerhead, dude,” Lee laughed, counting off the reasons on his fingers. “You’re enormously hardheaded, you see everything, and you look confused half the time. You’re totally a hammerhead.”

Percy gaped like a fish for several seconds but couldn’t deny that the nickname made warmth swell up in his chest. Lee knew Percy loved sharks more than pretty much any other sea creature and had found a way to make Percy’s new condition seem like just a little quirk that made him more similar to them.

It was nice.

And…hammerheads were pretty cool. There were worse sharks to be compared to.

Percy slumped, accepting the new nickname with a sigh. “I swear if anybody else calls me that…” He pointed a threatening finger at a giggling Lee, but he knew the grin on his face betrayed him.

Percy stiffened when cold shadows coiled around his limbs and Lee, clearly getting the same sensation, sobered up immediately.

Percy whipped around, parsing through the mass of sensations he’d been blocking out since reentering the throne room to find the cause of the mass of dark energy.

He frowned when he caught sight of the small body pushing through crowds of partygoers, ignoring the disgruntled shouts that followed. Was that…

“Nico?”

Percy tilted his head, trying to figure out what had the kid so upset before the realization crashed over him. “Oh, shit.”

“Somebody must’ve told him about Bianca,” Lee grimaced.

Percy bit his lip as Nico di Angelo raced out of the throne room, indecision warring in his chest.

Nobody else even seemed to care—nobody was going after him. Percy remembered how alone he’d felt after he thought he’d lost his mother—remembered how much just the presence of another person had helped him.

Maybe…

“I’ll be back, yeah?”

Lee grasped Percy’s shoulder gently, nodding in understanding. 

Percy made his way quickly out of the throne room, following the fading aura of shadows.

He found Nico di Angelo curled into a ball against the trunk of an oak tree, and as he approached he could hear the kid sniffling.

Percy didn’t say anything as he settled himself on the dirt next to Nico, tipping his head back against the bark and waiting.

Several minutes passed before Nico raised his head, dark eyes set in a glare even as more tears slipped down his face.

“I don’t want to…” Nico stopped, his mouth gaping as he stared at Percy, who got the distinct feeling that he hadn’t been who Nico was expecting.

“I—it’s you!”

“It’s me,” Percy said simply.

“But I thought—you fell off that cliff and that monster had you and…you’re alive!”

“I’m alive,” Percy said. “The others rescued me when they rescued Apollo.”

Nico looked away, his shoulders hunching at the mention of the quest.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Nico spit out once he saw Percy’s face. “I don’t want your pity, or your ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ or—or—”

His voice broke, and Percy felt like his heart broke with it.

“Oh, kid.”

Percy, telegraphing his movements clearly, wrapped an arm around Nico’s shoulders and drew him into an embrace.

Nico made a small noise of protest at first but quickly collapsed against Percy’s chest, burying his face into Percy’s shirt with a muffled sob.

“I got you, kid. I got you.”

Nico let out another cry and then another and another and pretty soon he was full on sobbing in Percy’s arms.

Percy held him through it all, whispering words of comfort to the grieving son of Hades—all the things he’d wished somebody had said to him in the few days he’d thought his mom was dead.

Nico’s tears tapered off some time later, pulling away from Percy and swiping away his tears with an embarrassed apology.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for,” Percy told him. “You’re grieving, Nico. It’s alright to—”

“It’s not alright! It’s not alright at all! She left me and now she’s gone and it’s just me! I don’t—I’m…I’m alone.”

Percy wanted nothing more than to reassure Nico that he wasn’t alone, but…he’d just lost the only blood family he had left. Percy didn’t want to make it seem like he was just trying to replace the family Nico had lost.

“You know,” Percy said after a moment. “When I first came to camp, we—my mom, Grover, and I—we were being chased by this monster. And my mom told me to run, to get over the border so I’d be safe, and the monster grabbed her and then she…disappeared.”

Nico looked over at him. “She died?”

“No,” Percy said. “But I thought she did. For almost a week I thought that I’d lost the only family I’d ever had. The only person that—that had always loved me and protected me and believed in me was gone. And I was all alone surrounded by people I didn’t know—people that didn’t understand—and I…I remember thinking that all I wanted was just somebody to—to sit with me…so I didn’t feel so alone.”

Nico sniffled, rubbing at his eyes, and Percy leaned against his side.

“We don’t have to talk about it, kid. But I’m gonna be here for you, so you’re not alone.”

“But why? I’m just some random unclaimed kid,” Nico whispered. “You almost died trying to bring me to camp, and my parent hasn’t even bothered to claim me. I’m not…”

Percy hummed thoughtfully, “I think…there’s someone you need to meet. Come on, kid.”

Chapter Text

Percy pulled a lightly protesting Nico to his feet, wiping away his tears gently—and, oh boy, Percy was too far gone. He could sense it already—Nico’d been adopted. His mom probably wouldn’t mind if Percy brought home a little brother, right? 

“What are you doing?” Nico asked as Percy dragged them back in the direction of the throne room.

“I’m taking you to meet someone, like I said.”

Nico shrunk into himself as they stepped back into the celebration, and Percy tucked him in closer to his side. They stuck to the outside of the crowd, making their way around the edge of the room as Percy searched for—

There!

Percy rolled his eyes when he caught sight of just who his intended target was speaking with and quickly dodged around a pair of laughing dancers to stop in front of the group.

“You two didn’t waste any time I see.”

Apollo and Poseidon both startled at Percy’s dry statement, while Hades just turned a baleful eye on him.

“If you’re here about the same thing—”

“I’m not,” Percy said disinterestedly, entirely uncaring about the fact that he’d just interrupted one of the eldest and most powerful gods. “I told them I wanted nothing to do with it and I want nothing to do with it. I’m here…”

Percy paused, bringing Nico out of his side and presenting him to the god of the Underworld proudly. “About Nico.”

Hades’s face was frozen, staring down at his unclaimed son like he was made of marble.

“Nico, this is Lord Hades, god of the Underworld and the dead and all that fun stuff. Uncle, this is Nico di Angelo. Although, I don’t really think you need the introduction.”

If Percy hadn’t still been holding onto Nico’s shoulders—and if Poseidon and Apollo hadn’t still been standing there—Percy was fairly certain he’d have been turned into a gerbil and thrown off the side of Olympus.

“You…” Hades’s eyes blazed with cold fire, and Percy felt the god’s aura snap out like he was only barely keeping himself in check. Darkness pulled at his limbs, threatening to drag him down, and Percy gripped Nico tighter. “How did you…”

“Know?” Percy raised an eyebrow. “I’m a prophet, Uncle. Knowing stuff is kind of my thing. Are you going to say hello to your child or not?”

The two bystanders made twin noises of shock at Percy’s words, and Hades’s nostrils flared.

“Whoa,” Nico breathed, apparently having gotten over his shock at being presented to the god of the dead like Simba in the Lion King and staring up at his newly found father in awe. “Are you really my dad? But you’re so cool! You can temporarily revive heroes and even force defeated enemies to attack their own allies and—”
Percy turned his laugh into a cough as Nico waxed on about how cool Hades was in what Percy assumed was the card game the kid seemed obsessed with, and even the still stunned Apollo and Poseidon seemed to be hiding their amusement.

“—can’t believe you’re actually my dad! Why didn’t…” Nico stopped like somebody’d taken the wind out of his sails. “Why haven’t you claimed me?”

“I…” Hades seemed lost for words, grief flickering through his dark eyes. “I didn’t think it was safe. To be my child is…dangerous. I was just trying to keep you safe.”

“I don’t understand,” Nico said. “You’re so cool. Why is it bad to be your son?”

Percy gave Nico a final squeeze on the shoulders before letting go and leaving the kid with his father so they could have a private conversation, even dragging Poseidon and Apollo away by the arms when they didn’t move.

“I can’t believe Hades broke the oath,” Apollo whispered once they’d made it out of earshot of the father and son’s conversation. 

“He didn’t,” Percy told them. “Nico and his sister were born before the oath. My…other uncle killed their mom because of the prophecy, so he hid them in the Lotus Casino so they’d be safe.”

Poseidon blinked. “How long have you known about them?”

“Uhhhh,” Percy tilted his head, trying to remember. “I think I had my first dream about them when I was nine. I’ve had a couple more over the years, especially in the weeks leading up to them getting out of the hotel, but that first one…” Percy suppressed a shudder, memories of the burning lightning crawling over his skin and the echoes of a god’s grief ringing in his ears.

“You’ve been having the dreams for that long?”

“The first one I remember was when I was…seven,” Percy said. “I saw Thalia—woke up screaming. Scared my mom half to death, I think.”

Poseidon let out a sharp breath, his eyes dark with an emotion Percy couldn’t decipher.

“I didn’t know—you were so young. Too young.”

Percy didn’t know what to say to that. He had been too young—seven years old and waking with the feeling of teeth tearing through his skin, with the memory of dying burned into the back of his eyelids.

“Don’t look at me,” Apollo defended when Poseidon turned narrowed eyes on the sun god. “I wouldn’t bless a kid that young with visions like that. Your kid was a prophet long before I claimed him as one.”

Poseidon huffed. “If you didn’t give him his abilities then is he really your prophet?”

“All prophets are my prophets. Because I’m the god of prophecy,” Apollo glowered, and Percy groaned.

“I swear if you two start this up again I will leave,” Percy threatened. The two gods glared at each other for several more seconds before relenting.

“Perseus, my son,” Poseidon started, a strangely devious look in his eyes. “How would you like to come with me to Atlantis once we’re finished here?”

Percy gaped, too stunned to speak for several seconds.

“I—really? Like—like right now? Go with you? To Atlantis?”

“Some time in the ocean will do you good after your ordeal, isn’t that right, Apollo?” Poseidon turned a smug look on a scowling Apollo.

“Yes,” Apollo ground out. Percy looked back and forth between the two for several seconds.

“Did…did you invite me to Atlantis solely to make Apollo jealous, Dad?”

“Absolutely not,” Poseidon said. Percy raised an eyebrow, giving his father a deadpan stare.

“It was a part of it, yes,” Poseidon admitted. “But we were already planning for you to visit anyway—I would’ve invited you regardless, my son.”

“Uh huh.”

“Not fair,” Apollo grumbled. “I don’t have a fancy kingdom to invite you to.”

“Get over it,” Poseidon said shortly.

Percy drug a tired hand down his face. “Is this—are you two going to do this every time you’re in the same vicinity from now on? Cause if so, I’d like to politely request that you, at the very least, do it when I’m not around so I don’t have to sit here like a child in the middle of a custody battle.”

“I didn’t think you were capable of politeness,” Poseidon snorted.

“Wonder who I got that from,” Percy snarked back.

Apollo turned his face away to hide his laughter, his shoulders shaking.

“Your mother, I’m sure,” Percy’s father said lightly, his lips twitching into a grin.

“Oh, yeah, totally,” Percy kept his straight face for all of five seconds before bursting into giggles.

“He’s got you there,” Apollo pointed out with a smirk, prompting Poseidon to glower in his direction.

“Oh, go away already. I’m taking my son to Atlantis and you’re not invited.”

Percy snorted when Apollo full on pouted, but the sun god eventually ducked away with one last dig at Poseidon and Percy’s status as a prophet.

“Hmmph,” Poseidon turned to look at Percy as soon as Apollo disappeared into the crowd. “Are you ready to go, my son? I’m quite eager to show you my kingdom.”

“Almost,” Percy said. “I promised Lee I’d be back after I went to go talk to Nico. I just need to tell him where I’m going so nobody thinks I’ve been kidnapped again. And then…could we—I’d like to stop by my mom’s, too. Just to let her know I’m okay and all.”

“Of course,” Poseidon smiled. “I’ll wait here. Go tell your friends bye and then come back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Percy said, backing away quickly. “Be right back, love you.”

He was halfway across the room before he realized what he’d said and stopped so suddenly that a dancing couple almost knocked him right over.

“You good?” Lee asked once Percy had tracked him down again and slumped down against his shoulder.

“Pretty sure I just told my dad I loved him,” Percy mumbled into his friend’s shirt.

Will, leaning up against one of the refreshment tables next to Lee, actually choked on his drink, doubling over and coughing as his punch went down the wrong pipe.

“Ooh, yikes.” Lee winced. “That’s…”

Yeah, not exactly common.

Percy knew that everybody loved their parents—unless they were literally the worst or something—but…well, when said parent was an immortal god—it made ‘I love yous’ a little…awkward, to say the least. The gods as a whole were such absent parents, so standoffish on the rare occasion they did interact with their children, that most kids didn’t feel anywhere near comfortable enough treating their godly parent like…well, like an actual parent.

And Percy had just gone and ‘I love you’d’ his father without even thinking about it.

“I didn’t even mean to do it,” Percy whined, dropping his face further into Lee’s neck—he was cold, okay? And Lee was very warm. “It just slipped out.”

Lee’s shoulder shook, but he was making a concerted effort not to openly laugh at Percy’s misfortune.

Will and Kayla, on the other hand, had no such qualms.

“I hate you all,” Percy complained. “I come all the way over here to tell you I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped again and you laugh at me.”

“You’re leaving?” Lee twisted his head to lock eyes with Percy, who was still leaning on Lee’s shoulder, putting their faces within inches of each other.

“Dad invited me to Atlantis—says the ocean’ll be good for me after everything that happened this past week.”

“Damn, Atlantis?” Will whistled. “I think I’d slip an ‘I love you’ out too if my dad invited me somewhere like that.”

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?” Lee asked.

“Uhhh, no clue, actually. Probably not longer than a week? I mean, I’ve got to go back to school when break’s over and I want to spend some time at camp. I’ll I-M you when I know, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Lee grinned softly. “Oh, hold up. Before you—can’t believe I forgot…” 

The son of Apollo dug around in his pocket, and Percy exchanged a confused glance with Will and Kayla before Lee was holding up his hand with a triumphant aha!

“Meant to give this to you as soon as we rescued you,” Lee said. “Got a little sidetracked but, ah, here you go.”

Percy blinked when Lee dropped something small and golden in Percy’s hand and—oh.

That was…that was Percy’s earring.

The little sun pendant earring that Percy had dropped in the entrance of Westover Hall before racing after the di Angelos.

How did…

“Annabeth gave it to me before the quest left—wanted me to return it to you,” Lee explained.

Lee had carried this earring—this tiny, almost meaningless earring—all the way across the states just to give it to Percy.

Percy couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sun sitting in his palm even as his other hand dug around in his own pocket.

Lee made a soft noise as Percy brought up his other hand, the second half of the pair sitting in his palm.

“Would you look at that,” Lee murmured quietly. Percy locked eyes with his friend—and there was something in Lee’s tone that he couldn’t quite parse out, something that had a flash of heat running down Percy’s spine.

“Help me put them in?” Percy asked, holding out the earring that Lee had carried in his pocket for almost a week just for Percy. He didn’t need the help—he was well accustomed to putting in earrings by now—but…it felt right, somehow.

Lee’s fingers were achingly warm as he took the earring back, his calloused fingers lingering ever so slightly on the side of Percy’s face after he finished threading the earring through.

“Thanks,” Percy breathed—his lungs seemed devoid of air, his heart stuttering in his chest at the brush of warmth on his jaw as Lee dropped his hand down to his side.

Lee’s eyes flickered as his mouth stretched into a teasing smirk. “Hardly a proper thank you.”

Percy flushed, heat spreading down his face all the way to his collarbones at the reminder. Lee’s smirk widened and Percy’s heart seemed to speed up at the sight, pounding in his chest like a war drum.

Percy bit his lip, indecision warring in his brain for several moments. Lee’s eyes flicked down for a moment before flashing back up, his blue eyes blazing with something that had Percy surging forward without another thought.

Percy pressed his lips to Lee’s cheek, keeping them there just long enough to feel the warmth of Lee’s skin on his lips before drawing back.

Lee looked like Percy had stolen the breath right out of his chest, as still as a statue even as his cheeks darkened.

“Thanks,” he said. “See you in a week.”

Percy spun around before Lee could do more than blink, catching Will and Kayla’s dropped jaws right as he slipped away into the crowd.

Poseidon was right where Percy had left him and he, thankfully, didn’t say anything about Percy’s parting words—or the blush still riding high on his cheekbones—simply holding out an arm that Percy took without hesitation.

The throne room faded away as the two of them dissolved into mist.

Percy stumbled away from his father as soon as his body reformed, slumping against the wall outside his mom’s apartment door with a groan.

“Ah,” Poseidon said sheepishly. “I probably should’ve warned you that traveling by mist can be a tad uncomfortable the first few times.”

“A tad?” Percy raised his head to scowl at his father. “My bones feel like jelly. If I’d had anything substantial to eat in the past week it’d have made a reappearance by now.”

Poseidon winced slightly. Percy rolled his eyes good-naturedly, unable to even pretend to be annoyed when he was still so excited—he’d wanted to visit Atlantis ever since he’d found out who his father was, and a little uncomfortable trip by mist wasn’t enough to turn him off of it.

Percy pushed himself off the wall, hesitating only for a moment before snagging the spare key from the flowerpot—because his own key had been lost some time over the past week—and stepping quietly over the threshold.

It was midday on a Friday—his mom’s day off, Percy knew, so she should be here. The familiar warm smell of chocolate cookies filled the air—she always baked when she was worried.

“Mom?”

There was a loud clang from the kitchen and less than a second later Sally Jackson appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Percy,” Sally whispered, tears already welling up in her eyes.

“Mom…” Percy's voice broke. He reached out, collapsing into his mom’s embrace. She tucked him in close and he buried his head in her shoulder. Her arms felt like home, wrapping around him like they could protect him from all harm if he just stayed in their warmth.

“Oh, my boy. My precious, precious boy. Are you alright? What happened? Your hair—what did they do to you?”

Percy shook his head, too overwhelmed to say anything except muffled apologies.

“Why are you sorry, sweetheart?” Sally ran a gentle hand through his hair.

“Worried you,” Percy mumbled.

“It’s a mother’s job to worry, sweetheart. You’ve nothing to apologize for,” she told him softly.

A faint noise, like a scuffle, came from behind Percy, and he only remembered who he’d come here with when his mom jolted like she’d been electrocuted.

“Poseidon,” Sally’s voice was the slightest bit breathless, and Percy drew back, wrinkling his nose uncomfortably.

“Sally,” Poseidon greeted warmly. Percy twisted his head around, still in his mom’s arms, to squint suspiciously at his father.

“Stop that,” he said, when both of his parents just kept looking at each other.

“Why—” Sally coughed to clear her throat awkwardly. “Why are you here, Poseidon?”

“Percy, ah, asked if we could stop here so he could let you know he was okay.” Poseidon shifted on his feet.

Fucking—this was the most awkward conversation ever.

“Stop—are you not…staying here?” Sally asked Percy, her arms tightening around him.

“Dad—Dad wants me to come to Atlantis for a little bit,” Percy said nervously.

“Oh,” his mom blinked in shock, her arms falling lax around him. 

“Is that—I mean, can I…” Percy took a step back, rubbing the back of his neck anxiously.

“Of course, sweetheart,” his mom reassured him. “I just—you’ll be back in time for school, yes?”

Percy’s shoulders relaxed and he gave a quick nod. “I want to spend some time at camp, too, before school starts up again, but I’ll be back in time.”

Sally gave a deep sigh, running a gentle hand down Percy’s cheek before turning to Poseidon.

“You take care of our son, Poseidon.”

“No harm will come to him while he’s with me,” Poseidon promised. Sally held the god’s gaze for several moments before nodding.

She pressed a kiss to Percy’s forehead before drawing him into one last hug that made him feel seven years old again and letting him go.

Poseidon gripped his arm, and then they were gone.

It was easier the second time, but Percy still doubled over as soon as his body reformed around him.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath as his stomach rolled—maybe it was a good thing Percy hadn’t had more than a couple bites of food in the past week, actually.

Poseidon patted Percy’s back awkwardly until he stood up with a baleful glare at his father. Percy’s annoyance dissipated immediately upon catching sight of his surroundings, his jaw dropping open in awe.

“Whoa,” he breathed.

“Welcome to Atlantis, my son.” Poseidon’s voice was tinged with pride as he swept an arm out over the underwater city that stretched out below them. “I could’ve taken us straight to the palace, but I thought you might appreciate the view.”

Percy had stepped through the halls of Hades’s palace, walked the streets of Olympus, strolled amongst the fields of Delos, and somehow he thought Poseidon’s kingdom was the most beautiful of all—though he was never telling Apollo that.

Countless buildings gleamed in the dark blue of the bottom of the ocean, separated with wide paths and courtyards that formed concentric circles. Gardens made of glowing coral colonies and luminescent sea plants sprouted all around the city, and merpeople of all kinds flicked through the water along paths lined with glowing pearls.

In the center of the city was an enormous palace—more magnificent than anything else around it…more magnificent than any palace on Olympus, even.

Giant towering columns painted blue and green and white and gold and shimmering like the crests of waves at sunset, marble arches that curved over gardens and pavilions, towers stretching out high above like they could reach the surface…

“My palace,” Poseidon said, once he noticed where Percy’s gaze had caught. “I’ll give you the full tour, of course, but first…”

The currents curled around them. Percy blinked, and he was in a dimly lit room—a bedroom, by the look of it.

“You need to rest, my son.”

“Wh—Daaad,” Percy whined as his father’s words caught up with him. “You can’t—I don’t need—”

“You need to rest,” Poseidon said firmly. “Atlantis can wait until you’re not about to fall asleep on your feet.”

“I’m not about to—oh, please, Dad,” Percy pleaded. He widened his eyes, turning his lips down as he pulled out the tried-and-true ultimate begging face.

Poseidon wavered, his concern for Percy’s wellbeing fighting against Percy’s pout.

“Apollo let me wander through Delos the first time I showed up there,” Percy wheedled.

Poseidon, predictably, crumbled.

“Just a little bit of the palace, and then you’ll go to sleep. The rest can wait.”

“Just the palace,” Percy agreed, practically bouncing on his feet in excitement.

Poseidon sighed but dutifully led Percy out of the bedroom. The hallways were made of an odd mix of paneled abalone and marble that, strangely enough, worked quite well together.

Poseidon pointed out everything of interest—which, to Percy, was literally everything. Percy was quite sure that his dad was regretting caving to Percy’s whims after the third innocuous corridor that Percy dragged him down, but he was enjoying himself too much to care.

He was in Atlantis.

“Ah, this way,” Percy’s dad tugged him gently away from the hallway he’d been aiming for, leading him through an arch into a circular courtyard.

There was no ceiling, allowing Percy to see the rest of the palace looming above, and a breathtaking mosaic of waves that almost seemed to move was painted on the stone at their feet.

“Poseidon.” A strangely familiar voice echoed through the water, drawing Percy out of his awe.

He looked up, his breath catching in his chest at the sight of the goddess of the seas moving toward them.

Amphitrite stopped dead in her tracks as her gaze locked onto Percy, and he fought against the urge to step behind his father’s comforting figure. His dad had said she wouldn’t hate him, but…well, Percy had kind of a bad track record with stepparents.

“Amphitrite,” Poseidon said calmly. “I’d like you to meet my son, Perseus.”

Amphitrite let out a single hum, her glowing eyes appraising Percy carefully.

“Hello, child.”

Percy shifted, his hand reaching out unbidden to latch onto his father’s shirt—he felt five years old again, all of a sudden, looking up at the man his mother was going to marry and completely unaware of the bruise that would paint his cheek as soon as he got too comfortable.

“Lady Amphitrite,” Percy’s voice sounded small, even to his own ears.

An unreadable emotion flickered through the goddess’s eyes as she took in Percy’s stance, the way his body curved into his father’s space like he was expecting an attack.

“Peace, Perseus. I hold no ill will towards you.”

Percy gave a jerky nod, his body relaxing infinitesimally. 

“I’m glad to see you returned from the Titan’s hands. Your father was most worried when he received news of your capture.”

Poseidon’s arm curled around Percy’s shoulders, drawing him against his father’s side. “He’s safe, yes, but still recovering from his ordeal. I believed some time in the ocean would do him good, and it was high time he visited Atlantis anyways.”

“Yes, it seems to be a time for visits, my love,” Amphitrite sighed heavily. Poseidon frowned, and Percy just had time to blink in confusion before a literal whirlwind of swirling currents swept into the courtyard.

“Hello, Father.” A bright voice called as the miniature hurricane died down, settling into a familiar form.

“Kym!” Percy said, a grin spreading across his face at the sight of his immortal sister.

“Little brother,” Kymopoleia smiled sharply with her shark’s teeth, the literal storms in her eyes swirling as she swam forward to embrace him—pulling him out of his father’s grip in the process. “It’s been too long.”

“You snatched me out of my bed a month ago to teach me how to cause tsunamis,” Percy pointed out as soon as the goddess set him down. One of the jellyfish tendrils that made up her hair flicked down and zapped him on the nose lightly as Kymopoleia laughed.

“Exactly. Too long. We simply must get up to some chaos while we’re here.”

Poseidon cleared his throat, and both of them froze like kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

“And how, exactly, do you two know each other?”

Percy’s mind flashed back to several months ago, when the goddess had quite literally caused a massive storm just to get his attention and offered to teach him how to purposefully make storms just to annoy their father. Somehow, that didn’t seem like the best response.

“She’s been teaching me how to make storms,” Percy turned innocent eyes on his dad. “It’s been really nice. No one ever really explained my powers or helped me with them before her, and she takes me out into the ocean a lot and it’s super cool and…”

Percy trailed off, still wearing his most innocent expression—none of his friends, or his mother for that matter, would be fooled, but he thought there was a chance Poseidon might fall for it.

His dad’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, glancing back and forth between Percy and Kymopoleia for several moments.

“Uh huh,” Poseidon said eventually. “But just how did you two meet? You don’t normally take an interest in my mortal children, daughter.”

“I like this one,” Kymopoleia said. “He caused a storm all on his own just cause he got mad, and he guessed who I was before I had to tell him!”

Percy flushed as his dad turned to him and raised a single eyebrow in question.

“I got mad,” Percy defended sheepishly. “You weren’t—you didn’t hear what Luke said to me!”

“Luke…the boy that stole the master bolt? And tried to steal the Fleece from you this past summer?” 

“That’d be him,” Percy said. “You didn’t hear—a recruitment pitch, of all things, Dad.”

Anger welled up in Percy’s chest at the reminder.

He’d—godsdamnit he’d trusted Luke once, and the bastard had repaid that in poison and blood and bruising hands around his neck.

“After everything he’s done to me—I mean the pit scorpion alone and—and the shoes—and…and he thought I would ever…”

Percy trailed off when the currents shifted around him, curling over his ankles.

“What did this boy do to you?” Poseidon’s voice was dark, storms echoing in every syllable and vicious riptides twisting out with every breath.

Huh. Strangely enough, he’d…forgotten just who he was talking to—forgotten the power Percy’s father held in his fingertips…forgotten the protective rage Poseidon was so well known for.

Percy suppressed a shiver as the weight of his father’s attention rested on him, something dangerous churning in his sea-green eyes—the eyes that Percy shared—that had Percy unnerved.

He looked away, unable to hold his father’s gaze.

“Perseus.”

“He set a pit scorpion on me,” Percy admitted quietly. His fingers pressed into the dark scar on his left palm—the permanent reminder of Luke’s betrayal, of Percy’s near death in the forest. “When that wasn’t—wasn’t personal enough he…well, I have a very chokable throat, you know?” 

Poseidon’s aura snapped out, wrapping around Percy with such pressure that the breath was forced out of his lungs.

“Poseidon,” somebody from behind Percy said warningly—Amphitrite, maybe? Percy couldn’t be sure.

“And what else?” Poseidon’s voice was near unrecognizable, twisted with the rage of the god of the Odyssey.

“He cursed a pair of shoes to drag me down to Tartarus with the bolt in my bag,” Percy said, the words rushing out of him like the tide—aching, suddenly, to be known—to be heard.

“He tricked me under the sky, and then he left me there—left me to die.”

Percy’s hand drifted up to his throat, tracing the invisible line of the cut Luke had made when he’d been threatening Percy on the mountaintop—the injury had healed, but Percy still remembered…his fingers caught on where he knew the blood had trickled down his neck.

“Poseidon,” the same person from before said again when Poseidon’s aura lashed out further, pressing down on him until he could hardly breathe.

Immediately, Poseidon seemed to notice the effect his emotional state was having on his son—his pale hands and shaking fingers and trembling lips—and his anger receded back into his skin like the tide until Percy’s lungs remembered how to work.

Hardly a second later, Percy was being drawn into his father’s chest.

“I…” Poseidon’s voice was shaking from the effort of reeling in his anger. “I will make this boy regret ever being born.”

A part of Percy—the part of him that was still twelve years old, teasing grins and ruffled hair and hands reaching out from the water to drag Luke under and fingers pressed into his ears as an airhorn is blown, balked at the threat.

The rest of him—the parts of Percy that knew poison flooding through his veins and hands around his throat and the way his nails had dug into Luke’s face and whose fingertips sometimes still felt scraped from the effort of clinging on to a tiny ledge above an unfathomable darkness and whose lips were numb from the cold of the sky above him—those parts of Percy relished the prospect of vengeance…of being avenged.

“He’s on a ship,” Percy whispered—a quiet admittance, an acknowledgement and acceptance of his father’s rage and what would follow. “The Princess Andromeda.”

“We will ensure that boy lives just long enough to regret stepping foot in the ocean.”

Percy turned at Amphitrite’s words, blinking at the clear anger in her voice. The goddess of the seas was standing at Poseidon’s shoulder, luminous eyes glowing like Greek fire.

“You are of the sea, child. And we do not take well to the harming of one of our own,” Amphitrite said when she caught his look.

“Oh,” Percy said numbly. “Okay.”

He let out a shaky breath and thunked his head on his father’s chest, all his emotions rushing out of him like a bucket with a hole in the side until he was just empty and numb.

“I…I think I’d like to go to bed now,” Percy whispered haltingly. His previous excitement had bled out of him—trickled out of the nonexistent slice in his throat that only his fingers could find—leaving nothing but an exhaustion that permeated his very bones.

“Of course, my son.” Poseidon swept him out of the courtyard without a backward glance to the two goddesses still inside. “We can finish the tour tomorrow, and you can meet the rest of the family. I’ll recall Tyson from the forges, as well. He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Miss him,” Percy mumbled into his dad’s shirt.

Poseidon said nothing, laying Percy gently—so gently—with hands that had caused millions of deaths and would gladly cause a million more for Percy’s sake—on a woven bed of silky kelp and pulling a warm blanket made of something waterproof that Percy was honestly too tired to try and figure out up over his shoulders.

“Get some rest, Percy. Everything will still be here when you wake up.”

Percy might have said something else, muffled against the pillow his face was buried in, but he couldn’t be sure, already slipping away into blissful oblivion.

Percy opened his eyes to a familiar mountaintop, his body curled around Apollo’s legs.

That was…no, he wasn’t there anymore, right? He’d—he’d been rescued.

Oh.

He was dreaming, he had to be. 

Yes, that was right. If he were really—he’d be in a lot more pain, surely.

His joints weren’t aching, his muscles weren’t screaming at him, and he wasn’t…he wasn’t cold at all.

But why…

Percy blinked and then Luke was there, gripping his arm tight and yanking him roughly to his feet.

“Don’t—”

“Or what?” Luke snarled and—oh, Percy knew this scene. He’d already lived it, hadn’t he? “What will you do, Apollo? What can you do?”

There was a sharp shhng and then Luke’s sword was pressed into Percy’s throat again.

“That’s right, you can’t do anything. I could slice your pathetic little prophet’s throat here and now, and leave his body on the stone until his blood soaked through your skin. And you wouldn’t be able to stop me.”

Percy couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through him when Luke pressed the sword deeper.

He couldn’t—he was still dreaming. Why was he dreaming of this?

“You wouldn’t. Your lord wants him alive.”

“My lord’s plans can be adjusted,” Luke hissed. 

There was an odd noise, then. A sort of…choked gasp that Percy was fairly certain he didn’t remember.

Luke let him go, which Percy was sure hadn’t happened back then either, and Percy simply stood for a second.

He coughed, and the noise was…wet and gargled.

His hand raised unbidden to his neck, feeling for the slice he knew Luke had put in his neck before and finding…

Oh.

Percy’s knees buckled, liquid—blood, it was his blood—pouring out of the gaping cut in his throat.

This wasn’t—Luke hadn’t done this before.

Percy tried to suck in a breath, tried to remind himself that he was dreaming, but he choked on the blood in his throat.

He gagged on it, unable to breathe around the flood of red—it was everywhere, it was everywhere, pouring from his neck and drenching his chest, crawling up his throat and painting his lips scarlet.

Percy swayed, crumpling to the ground in front of Apollo. His gaze caught on the blazing blue eyes of the sun god, taking in the horror on Apollo’s face as Percy…

Percy was—Percy was dreaming. He had to remember that.

This wasn’t real, this hadn’t actually happened.

Percy wasn’t dying.

And yet, he was.

A gargled whine left him, but he didn’t—was he begging, pleading for Apollo to save him? He didn’t know.

Percy gave a weak cough, reaching a trembling, blood-soaked hand to his god—Apollo was his god, Apollo would save him, why wasn’t he—

Percy’s fingers never reached Apollo, his hand losing strength mere inches away.

Percy gave one last stuttered exhale, and then he was shooting up in his bed so fast that he headbutted the person leaning over him.

Whoever it was reeled back with a muffled curse even as Percy scrambled to his feet. His chest was heaving like he’d just sprinted five miles, his hands desperately clutching at his neck—searching for the gaping wound that had never been made.

There was nothing there. Nothing there—nothing had ever been there.

Percy wasn’t dying. Percy was alive.

He’d—he’d been dreaming.

“Perseus?”

Percy turned, vaguely aware that he was still pressing his hands to his throat—trying to stem the nonexistent blood that poured from an imaginary wound.

“Dad?” Percy’s voice was hoarse, scraping out of his raw throat in the way that Percy knew meant he’d been screaming—he didn’t remember screaming. The only sounds he remembered making were the choked gasps and wet gargles as he drowned in his own blood.

“Perseus, are you…are you alright?” Poseidon asked hesitantly, his own hands raised in front of him like he was trying not to spook a wild animal.

And Percy, with his heaving chest and wide eyes and shuddering limbs, well, he rather felt a bit like a wild animal.

“I’m…”

“You were dreaming,” Poseidon said calmly when Percy’s voice trailed off. “You were dreaming and you were…screaming. I tried to wake you—”

“I headbutted you,” Percy choked out, horrified as he put it together.

“You…did,” Poseidon admitted. “But it’s alright. You were dreaming, son.”

“I wa—I was dreaming.”

“A vision?” Percy’s dad asked carefully, taking a cautious step in Percy’s direction like he expected him to take off at any moment.

Percy shook his head. “No, no, just…something that already happened. But—but different. He…”

Percy ran his hands over his throat again—still searching for a wound that had never been made—that would never be made.

“He slit my throat,” Percy said quietly. “And then left me there, dying at Apollo’s feet like…and there was so much blood, Dad. I knew I was dreaming, I knew it had never happened, and I’m still…”

Terrified.

The word caught in his throat, but Poseidon seemed to hear it anyway.

His father took another step forward, pulling Percy’s trembling fingers away from his neck and running his own calloused fingertips over the skin.

“There’s nothing there, my son,” Poseidon reassured him. “No mark, no blood, nothing. You are alive.”

Percy let out a shuddering breath. “I’m—I’m alive.”

“It never happened.”

“It never happened,” Percy repeated.

They stood there in silence for several long moments, until Percy’s heart settled in his chest again and his fingers stopped itching to cover an imaginary wound.

“You should eat something,” Poseidon said softly. “And then…we can continue our tour, if you…”

“I—yeah, I’d—I’d really like that.”

“Very well,” Poseidon drew Percy carefully into his side, curling an arm over his shoulder and sweeping him out of the room.

Percy’s excitement was muted—his vicious nightmare still at the forefront of his mind—but he managed a few smiles as his dad pointed out all the things he’d missed last night on their way to the dining hall.

The room they ended up in was…smaller than he’d expected for the dining room of a royal family of immortal deities. There were less than a dozen chairs, all perched around a rectangular table made of coral. A chandelier of glistening pearls hung in the center of the room, sending shimmering lights dancing along the abalone walls.

Several of the seats were already filled, and Percy barely had time to recognize a few of them as his father’s immortal children before he was being swept off his feet.

“Brother!”

“Tyson!” Percy grinned even as his little brother squeezed him so hard Percy felt his ribs bend. “I’ve missed you, bud.”

“Missed you, too.” Tyson’s big brown eye blinked down at him. “Glad you are here. Now I can show you my work!”

“I’m sure it’s all amazing, Ty. The shield you gave me saved my life once already.”

Tyson gave a gleeful giggle and clap at the news, and Percy wilted a bit when he had to tell him that the shield had kind of been irreparably damaged in the fight against the manticore. Tyson frowned but promised to make Percy a new one—a better one that would withstand poisonous needles.

Somebody else slipped in front of Tyson as the Cyclops muttered about the adjustments he’d need to make, and Percy blinked as he took her in.

She was unfamiliar—auburn hair pulled up into a delicate crown braid and a light gray chiton that fell to her ankles clasped with golden suns.

Percy met her dark eyes—almost black but glinting like a pearl in the sunlight—and felt a shiver run down his spine.

He’d never met this woman before, but he knew her—knew her eyes, could see the reflection of himself in them in a way he never had with anyone else.

“You must be Herophile.”

The woman—Herophile, because she could be no one else—smiled brightly and tugged him into a hug. His skin tingled everywhere she touched him, zapping up his arms and shoulders like small bursts of sunlight.

“You are a—” Herophile grimaced slightly as she drew back, her eyebrows furrowing as her voice scraped out of her throat like broken glass—Percy could relate to that, honestly. He knew the feeling…when the words crawled out regardless of whether he wanted them to.

“Hmmm, seven letters. A bringer of divine revelation and foresight.”

Percy blinked for several moments, trying to figure out what she was trying to say before…oh.

“Prophet,” he said, and Herophile’s eyes lit up. She ruffled his hair and turned a bright grin to the other inhabitants of the room who remained seated at the table.

“Oh, for—there’s two of them now,” one of the two unfamiliar women sitting at the table groaned. She looked relatively human, dark skin and curly hair gathered into a messy bun atop her head and light eyes that glistened like seafoam on the sand. “Please tell me you’re not about to start giving us crossword puzzles and acrostics, too.”

“Oh, no, I’m way too dyslexic for that,” Percy said quickly. “Mostly I just have dreams and draw things and sometimes say cryptic shit.”

There was a small moment of silence before Percy realized what he said, and his eyes widened.

“Not—I didn’t mean—shit, fuck, sorry.” Percy slapped a hand over his mouth before he could keep on throwing out curse words in front of the immortal family members he’d never met and really wanted to like him—or at least, not hate him and try to murder him.

Fucking—Percy couldn’t help it. He was from New York, honestly it was a miracle he didn’t slip a curse into every sentence given where he was raised.

Poseidon gave a long sigh from where he stood in the doorway to the room. “Truly, you are your mother’s son, Perseus.”

Percy narrowed his eyes and, unable to resist the urge to get in a dig at his father, responded wryly. “And here I thought my complete lack of respect and propensity for cursing at immortal family members came from you.”

Several snorts came from the seated people—apparently nothing brought half-siblings who’d never met before in their life together like insulting their shared parent—and Percy relaxed slightly.

“I can see why you’d like him so much, Kym,” the other unfamiliar woman said lightly. Her blue dress shifted like riptides in the depths, and her dark hair hung over her shoulders, complimenting her light blue skin beautifully and making her glowing eyes stand out from her face.

Kymopoleia laughed loudly, shark’s teeth glinting in the light as she grinned at her sister. “The first time I met him he guessed who I was and then almost immediately called our family fucked up.”

Percy’s shoulders gradually rose, and he gave his father a sheepish grin when the god of the seas simply leveled a look at him.

“In all fairness,” Percy started, and his father immediately closed his eyes like he was asking himself for patience. “Less than twelve hours after I said that a member of said family pancaked me into the side of a mountain so hard I died and had to be resuscitated.”

The group was silent for so long that Percy thought he’d completely fucked up his introduction and all of them were going to hate him, and then the last member sitting at the table—Triton, who Percy had actually seen before in a dream—spoke up.

“Pancaked?” The god’s voice was low, tinged with incredulousness and no small amount of confusion.

“Wh—yeah, you know, like…he kinda just…” Percy made a vague gesture with his arms to mimic the way Polyphemus had slammed him into the stone. “Smashed me flat against the rocks like a…pancake,” he finished weakly.

Triton blinked at him uncomprehendingly, so Percy elaborated more—because apparently, he’d completely lost whatever filter he had over the past week.

“Almost ripped my whole arm off, honestly. And shattered, like, practically every bone in my body, I’m sure. Well, actually…I don’t really remember cause I was, you know, dead but I’m fairly certain that I broke, like, everything and—”

“Please, stop,” Poseidon begged, pinching the bridge of his nose and looking like he regretted everything in his immortal life.

“Right, yeah—yep, tot—stopping.” Percy clacked his jaw shut and ran a nervous hand through his hair.

Kymopoleia looked absolutely delighted with the turn breakfast had taken while the rest of Percy’s half-siblings stared at him in shocked silence.

Amphitrite, from her spot hovering at Poseidon’s side, looked remarkably amused by the whole conversation, a dainty grin pulling at her lips as she glanced over at her husband. “I mean this from the bottom of my heart, love, but you absolutely deserve this.”

Poseidon gave another long-suffering sigh but didn’t seem capable of arguing to the contrary.

Amphitrite’s eyes were gleaming with humor as she turned to Percy. “Perseus, dear, come sit. From what your father told me you haven’t had much to eat over the past week.”

Percy glanced at the still silent group sitting at the table, but before he could move Kymopoleia was beckoning him to the empty seat to her right with a wide grin. Percy sat, grinning lightly over at the goddess.

Tyson plopped down on Percy’s other side, still muttering to himself about tempering and hammering and a bunch of other stuff that Percy wouldn’t ever understand.

To Kymopoleia’s left was Triton—who seemed none too pleased to have his chaotic sister leaning into his space every few seconds.

Poseidon sat at the head of the table—to Triton’s left—and Amphitrite took the empty seat to her husband’s left, laying a soft arm on the goddess with the light blue skin that sat next to her.

Directly across from Percy was the woman with the dark skin and messy bun, appraising him silently with light green eyes that shimmered like seafoam. Herophile perched on the chair next to her, grinning brightly over at Percy.

Okay, so Percy had three siblings that didn’t hate him, and three that the jury was still out on.

He could work with that.

“So, Perseus,” the goddess across from him started as soon as everyone had taken their seats. “Kymopoleia says you figured out who she was without her having to tell you.”

Percy blinked as the rest of the table turned, watching curiously. “Uh, yes.”

The woman raised an eyebrow, and Percy shifted in his seat as he caught on. “Oh, you want me to…”

Okay, well, there were really only two options left, so Percy had better odds than when he’d guessed Kym’s name last summer.

He took a moment to look over both of the unknown goddesses across from him, fingers tapping lightly on the coral table as he glanced between the two of them.

Percy tilted his head, reaching out cautiously to see if their auras would give him a better hint. 

The blue-skinned goddess felt like the waters of the deep, twisting currents and curling riptides and crashing waves.

The goddess across from him felt like sand under his palms, the tide washing over his feet and an ocean breeze ruffling his hair.

Hmmm.

“You’re Rhode,” Percy said to the dark-skinned woman across from him. 

“And you’re Benthesikyme,” he turned to the blue goddess.

Rhode hummed lightly, a pleased gleam in her eye. “Oh, you are good. I think I like you.”

Percy flushed happily at the words. Kymopoleia nudged him with her elbow, smirking teasingly as she gestured to her left.

“Bet you can’t guess who he is.”

Percy’s lips twitched into a grin as Triton let out an offended huff.

“I am Triton, my father’s eldest child and heir and—”

“Oh, wow,” Percy interrupted dryly. “Never would’ve guessed that.”

Benthesikyme raised a hand to try and hide her amusement as Poseidon dropped his head into his hands. Rhode and Amphitrite were both biting their lips to keep from grinning and the rest of the table weren’t even bothering with that.

Triton puffed up—rather like a pufferfish, if Percy was being honest—and began speaking in an affronted tone.

“How dare you—never have I been treated with such—”

“Triton,” Poseidon said, the barest hint of a warning in his voice.

“Man, you must be fun at parties,” Percy said, unable to stop himself from poking the bear.

“Perseus,” his father sighed long-sufferingly. Percy wilted slightly at the look in Poseidon’s eyes, but Rhode sent him a wink from across the table that had him perking back up again.

“He really does take after you, my love,” Amphitrite patted Poseidon on the arm in mock consolation. “You speak to your brothers much the same way, as I recall.”

“I do not,” Poseidon grumbled before whipping his head up right as Percy opened his mouth to speak. “Not a word.”

Percy settled back into his seat, a mischievous grin still stretched across his face—he bet Amphitrite would be most interested in hearing how her husband had bickered with Apollo like a five-year-old for almost half an hour just the day before.

Poseidon’s eyes narrowed as Percy turned back to his food innocently.

The conversation lapsed for several minutes after that, and Percy took the opportunity to devour no less than three plates of food—he hadn’t had any substantial food in over a week, so he figured he deserved it, honestly.

“Well,” Poseidon cleared his throat once Percy’d put away his third plate. “Are you ready to see the rest of my kingdom, son?”

Chapter Text

Three days into Percy’s weeklong visit to Atlantis, and he finally felt comfortable enough to move around on his own. The first day he’d stuck to his dad’s side like glue—and the one time he had moved away he’d gotten lost and ended up halfway across the palace before Dad had managed to track him down—and he’d spent much of the second day being rotated between different family members in an effort to get to know them better—except for Triton, who avoided him like the plague.

He’d spent several hours with Tyson in the forges—not allowed to touch anything, of course, but just watching his little brother work his magic.

Kym had already dragged him outside the city to cook up some underwater storms, much to Poseidon’s chagrin.

The god of the seas had tried, unsuccessfully, to stop Kymopoleia from continuing to teach Percy how to make storms, but Percy was quickly learning that his dad was…well, a little bit of a pushover, to be honest.

Maybe it was because Percy was still recovering from his near-death experience under the sky, but Poseidon folded like a lawn chair everytime Percy turned his begging face on him—and now that Percy was aware of this, he very much used it to his advantage every opportunity he got.

Rhode and Benthesikyme both warmed up to him rather quickly. Percy had mentioned, offhandedly, his ordeal over the past week and that had apparently awakened both goddess’s inherent mothering instincts—sisterly instincts? It felt a little more like big sister instincts, actually. They reminded him of Silena, to be honest, especially when they teamed up to drag him out into the city to a fancy spa in one of the outer circles.

Herophile liked to spend her time in the library—a place Percy generally never stepped foot in, but found himself enjoying in this case, both from the company and the fact that the books were written in Ancient Greek. The immortal daughter of Poseidon and Aphrodite didn’t like to talk much, preferring to communicate with her hands because it was easier than speaking in word puzzles all the time, but the two of them had a lot of fun trying to teach Percy sign language.

Amphitrite, truly, had come as the biggest surprise. Percy had expected her to be polite but standoffish, and yet the Queen of the seas had showed up in the library at the tail end of Percy’s time with Herophile and asked if he’d like to accompany her to the city markets.

Percy accepted, but his nerves must’ve been obvious on his face because Amphitrite had been exceedingly careful on their trip not to make him any more nervous. As soon as she’d caught on to his uncomfortableness around him, she’d been determined to fix it, stopping him gently just outside the palace and guiding him to a bench in one of the nearby gardens.

When you’re immortal, she’d told him softly. You find it’s hard to love just one person for all eternity. I have loved more than one in my life, as has my husband. Your father will always be my husband, and he will always return to my side. I do not begrudge you, or your mother, for your existence. You have nothing to fear from me, Perseus.

Percy’d heard the truth in her words, seen the earnestness in her face, and found himself relaxing. Amphitrite had been pleased, spending most of the afternoon showing him around the markets and buying him whatever she noticed caught his eye despite his protests.

It was rather nice, all things considered. Amphitrite was…a lot different to the last stepparent Percy’d had—she couldn’t have been more different, actually. By the time they’d returned to the palace, Percy’d felt comfortable enough to joke around with his stepmom—mostly they’d made fun of Poseidon, and the god had given them a suspicious squint over dinner when they kept looking at him and snickering to themselves.

Percy’s dad had stolen him away this morning for some father-son bonding time, lamenting over how the rest of the family had gotten him all of yesterday, and they’d spent the entire morning with Poseidon showing Percy some of the more hidden wonders of the city.

Poseidon had been called into a meeting after lunch and had, after some grumbling, relinquished Percy to wander the palace on his own with a promise not to cause trouble.

So now Percy was strolling through one of the many palace gardens, admiring the coral structures and shining pearl lights all on his own. He meandered along the path slowly, blinking when he emerged into an open courtyard.

The floor was made of soft sand, and multiple kelp dummies were scattered throughout and—oh, Percy’d found the training arena, it seemed.

There was only one other occupant in the arena, and Percy took in the green skin and two tails with a slight grimace.

Triton.

The merman had done an impressive job of avoiding Percy over the past several days, giving him haughty sniffs and looking down his nose at Percy every time they crossed paths and Percy was…fine with it.

He was.

Percy was no stranger to people disliking him on principle. Before camp, most of the people he’d interacted with had, in fact, looked down their noses at him—they’d looked at his scruffy, torn clothes and dirty fingernails and crooked grin and decided he was too much trouble before he could even open his mouth.

And Percy was fine with that. Used to it, in fact.

That didn’t mean his chest didn’t sting with every scowl sent his way—didn’t mean Percy didn’t give as good as he got back to his half-brother because he wasn’t just going to let Triton treat him like shit for no reason.

In the arena, Triton flicked his tails, somersaulting over a kelp dummy and stabbing down with the gleaming trident in his hand.

Percy, despite his less than pleasant feelings toward Triton, was enthralled at the sight. He’d never used a trident before, but a part of him felt he’d be good at it, if he had the chance to try. Percy was proficient enough with spears—because Clarisse had been determined to teach him how to use all types of weapons when she’d discovered he’d really only ever practiced with the sword and beating him up was how she showed she cared—and, from watching Triton, it looked like wielding a trident wasn’t all that different.

There were just…two extra points at the end.

And obviously the weight was going to be different than on a spear so that the entire weapon was balanced.

But other than that, it looked like a lot of the basic moves were similar.

Percy blinked as Triton twisted in the water and executed a complicated looking spin before using the butt of his trident to stab into a dummy which…okay, that was pretty cool.

Triton tilted his head before whipping around to glare in Percy’s direction like he’d just now noticed Percy’s presence. 

“What are you doing here?” The god’s voice was tight, suspicion dripping from every word.

“Just…” Percy floundered for a moment; his gaze caught on the trident still gripped in Triton’s hand. “Just walking by and I saw you and…”

“And?”

Percy bit his lip, rocking back and forth on his heels, “I’ve never seen anybody fight with a trident before—or underwater, either—so it was…kinda cool.”

“Cool?” Triton squinted over at him, but he looked a little taken aback by Percy’s lack of bite—in all fairness, Percy had been a bit rude to the god over the last several days, but he was just treating Triton how Triton had been treating him.

“Yeah, like…impressive.” Percy shrugged, but found himself unable to keep Triton’s gaze, dropping his eyes to the pale sand under his feet.

“Hmmph.”

Percy frowned, his head shooting back up to scowl at the merman. “Remind me again why you hate me so much?”

“Oh,” Triton scoffed. “Forgive me for not wanting to interact with the living reminder of my father’s unfaithfulness to my mother.”

Percy jerked back, “I—that’s not my fault, you know? I didn’t ask to be born. If you have a problem with what Dad did, maybe you should be taking it up with him.”

Triton bared his teeth—sharp and serrated like Kym’s—but his tails flicked uneasily. “I don’t have a problem with Father. I have a problem with you.”

“For existing?” Percy stepped forward, his heart pounding in his chest at the raging unfairness of it all. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask to be his son. I didn’t ask to break a decades-long sacred oath just by being born. I didn’t ask to be a prophet. I didn’t ask to be the prophecy child. I didn’t ask for any of this!” Percy was shouting by the end of it, chest heaving as he took another step forward.

“Mind your tone, boy—”

“Or what?” Percy snarled, reaching forward to poke his brother in the center of his chest angrily. “You—”

As soon as Percy’s finger made contact with Triton’s chest he was gone. The arena shifted around him, no longer underwater but under the open sky. The sun beamed down as two beautiful young women sparred spear to trident in front of a cheering crowd. Percy spotted several Olympians high up in the stands surrounding the arena—his father and Zeus among them—as well as Triton himself grinning and clapping heartily in the front row.

The woman fighting with the spear was familiar, severe gray eyes staring out of a serious face and dark hair braided tightly down her back—the goddess Athena.

The other woman made something ache deep in Percy’s chest, even though he knew he’d never seen her before. Her hair was the exact shade of blonde as Annabeth and her siblings, pulled back into a braid similar to Athena’s, and she was smiling brightly as she dodged away from Athena’s swipe.

Percy’s breath caught in his chest as the woman danced back, coming close enough to Percy that he could make out the color of her eyes.

Sea-green.

The exact hue of Percy’s own eyes—the eyes of his father, of Triton.

The woman wielded the trident in her hands like an extension of herself, leaping over Athena and catching the goddess’s spear in the tines, almost disarming her before Athena managed to rip her spear back.

She said something Percy couldn’t make out, sea-green eyes flashing with mirth as she smirked at Athena—and Percy knew that smirk, crooked and teasing and light, could feel the shape of it on his own lips.

Now that she was closer…Percy could see the similarities between himself and the mysterious woman. Their eyes, their jawline, the shape of their cheekbones, the curve of their lips. If not for the hair—and the difference in gender and age—they almost could’ve been…twins.

Athena’s face split into a teasing grin as she responded to the woman’s remark with a lunge. The goddess looked young—not that that meant much in regards to immortals, but there was a lack of weight on her shoulders that spoke to her youth. Less rigidity in her stance, less experience in her eyes. She looked…happy—worlds different to the severe face that had stared down at Percy on Olympus less than a week ago.

The woman had Athena on the retreat, but both of them were grinning heartily—a friendly spar, Percy gathered, and far from their first, given the ease with which they traded blows.

Athena lunged, her spear thrusting forward in a move the woman was already shifting to avoid.

There was a flash of light in the stands, sunlight reflecting off of something that gleamed gold in Zeus’s hands—the god’s lips were downturned, frowning as though something had displeased him.

The woman paused, sea-green eyes catching on the shimmering light, and Percy realized what was going to happen a second before Athena’s spear pierced her chest.

The crowd erupted into gasps, standing up in their seats in shock, but nothing compared to the noise that burst forth from Athena—grief and pain and regret all rolled into one word.

“No!” The goddess dropped her spear like it scalded her, catching the dying woman in her arms right as she crumpled to the ground.

There was a flash of green in the corner of Percy’s eye as Triton leapt over the barrier and rushed forward.

“Pallas!”

Percy shot up with a gasp, and Triton barely avoided the same fate as their father—a savage headbutt—several days before, reeling back just in time from where he’d been leaning over Percy.

“Wh—” Percy’s chest was heaving, his head whipping around as though searching for the grieving goddess and her dying friend.

“What’s happened here?”

Oh.

Poseidon had arrived at some point, glancing back and forth between Percy—who was still on the ground—and Triton—who was hovering a little way away looking distinctly guilty—suspiciously.

Percy only realized how it looked when his dad turned back to Triton, lips pursed and eyes dark.

“Triton—”

“‘s my fault,” Percy said, and both gods turned to look at him incredulously. “I was—I touched his chest and I wasn’t—I didn’t think—I saw…”

“You had a vision?” Poseidon knelt down on Percy’s other side.

Percy nodded, swallowing heavily as he looked between the other two—at the eyes that perfectly matched his, that matched hers.

“An arena,” he said, his voice faint. “A spar…I—she looked—she looked like me but…blonde.”

Triton stiffened, his eyes widening as Percy turned to look at him. “You—you called her…Pallas.”

Triton’s eyes blazed and he shot up. Within an instant, the god of the tides was gone, and Percy was left alone with his father.

Percy locked eyes with his dad, grief evident in the depths of his eyes, and knew that, whoever this Pallas was, she must’ve been very important.

“I didn’t mean…”

“It’s alright, son,” Poseidon sighed heavily. “You can’t control the things you see, Triton knows this as well as I do. He’s just…well, he doesn’t do well with the reminder of her. Besides, it’s not as bad as when Herophile met him and gave him an acrostic puzzle that spelled out her name.”

Dad pulled Percy gently to his feet, giving him a small grin tinged with humor and grief in equal parts. “I don’t think Triton looked at her for three months after that.”

Percy nodded slowly, biting his lip as he looked up at his father. “Who…who was she?”

His dad closed his eyes, laying a heavy hand on Percy’s shoulder. And, slowly, haltingly, the god of the seas told Percy the forgotten myth of Pallas.

Dinner was tense that night, to say the least. The rest of Percy’s siblings didn’t know what had occurred that afternoon, but they could tell that something had happened—Triton stabbed directly through his plate with his fork, and Percy barely looked up from his food the entire time.

Rhode swept him away as soon as they were finished eating and slowly pried the story from Percy as she led him in a long walk through the royal garden.

“I feel bad about it,” Percy admitted after a long silence. “Even though I know it wasn’t really my fault—I can’t control the things I see, or when I see them—but…”

“You still feel bad for reminding him of the daughter he lost, and you want to fix it however you can,” Rhode finished gently.

Percy looked down at his feet, “I don’t know what to do, though. He doesn’t like me, he doesn’t want to talk to me, but…not saying anything about it feels wrong.”

Rhode hummed contemplatively. “Triton can be…difficult to get to know, especially for our dad’s mortal children. Few have ever made a real effort to get past his rough exterior, but that’s not to say it’s impossible.”

“Got any advice?”

“Hmmm, maybe,” Rhode grinned. “Tell me the dirt you have on Dad, and I just might help my new little brother out.”

“He pouted like a five-year-old when Apollo told everyone I was a prophet and then proceeded to bicker with him like a little kid for half an hour in front of the entire Olympian council.”

Rhode snorted, bringing a hand up to cover her mouth. “Oh, please tell me you already told Amphitrite this.”

“Absolutely. She was most interested in it, and I know for a fact she’s already planning to use it to her advantage the next time he tries to argue that he’s a mature adult.”

His sister let out a giggle, light eyes bright with amusement. “Right, well, a deal’s a deal, little brother.” She pulled him to a stop in the middle of the path.

“Triton is many things: our father’s herald and messenger, a bringer of the tides, a warrior, a commander, but most of all…he’s a teacher. He cannot turn away someone who asks him for guidance, who begs upon him most sincerely for the chance to learn at his hand. Appeal to this side of him, and he may be inclined to look past his general disregard for mortal heroes.”

“So, I just…ask him to teach me something?” Percy asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Yes, but you must be sincere about it. Ask him to teach you something you want to know, something important to you. It might also help to slip in some anecdotes of your previous near-death experiences…for all his glares and scowls, Triton is an older brother. I do not think he would take kindly to the harm that has been brought upon you in your lifetime.”

“Okay,” Percy blinked. “So, I ask him to teach me and trauma dump in the process. I can do that.”

Rhode’s mouth twitched into a grin. “You are an odd one, little brother.”

She dropped him off at his room shortly after that, and Percy went to bed with a budding plan as to how to win Triton over at the forefront of his mind.

He woke up a mere hour later, twisting and turning in his bed so much that he flipped right off the edge and crashed onto the floor. His shoulders were trembling, aching beneath the phantom weight of the sky that his dreams had trapped him under as soon as he closed his eyes.

Percy ran a cold hand through his hair as he stood, glancing longingly at his very comfortable bed before slipping out into the hallway.

He wouldn’t get anymore sleep tonight, he knew.

Despite his little sleep, Percy’s veins were buzzing with energy, his muscles itching to work off some of the excess.

It was the middle of the night, so Percy was more than a little surprised when he stepped into the training arena and found it occupied.

“Oh,” he said, stopping right as his feet hit the sand.

Triton turned, trident limp at his side from where he’d just finished demolishing a dummy.

“‘m sorry,” Percy said when Triton stayed silent. “I didn’t think anyone else would be here.”

Triton said nothing and, his face unreadable, turned back around to attack another kelp dummy. Percy watched him for several moments, caught on the effortless way he moved, the clear precision in every step that spoke to millennia of practice, and then made his way to the other side of the arena.

They practiced in silence—on opposite ends of the sand—for what must’ve been half an hour before Percy sensed Triton’s eyes on him. He did his best to ignore it, but he could feel his shoulders steadily rising higher the longer Triton watched him.

“You leave your left side too open.”

Percy almost dropped Riptide in his shock, whipping around to where Triton had gradually wandered over to Percy’s end of the arena.

“What?”

“Your stance,” Triton said. “You’re right-handed, so you naturally cover more of your right side. Means your left side is too open.”

Percy looked down, considering his stance and the position of his sword and…huh, Triton had a point.

Percy shifted slightly, adjusting his feet and the angle of Riptide slowly before looking up at Triton again. “Better?”

Triton pursed his lips. “A little. Have you considered picking up a secondary weapon? For your empty hand?”

Percy frowned slightly, “I hadn’t thought about it before, you think it could help?”

“Certainly, and that way your left hand will be of some use in a fight—especially if you’re not fighting with a shield, which…I don’t think appeals to you.”

“It doesn’t,” Percy admitted. “It slows me down more often than not, so I just go without it.”

“In that case, I would recommend putting a dagger or short sword in your empty hand.”

Percy looked down at his left hand contemplatively. It was a sound idea, though not one he’d ever really considered for himself in the past.

“I…thanks, Triton.”

Triton nodded, and then, seeming to remember just who he’d been offering unprompted advice to, spun around and made to head back to his own side of the arena.

Percy rocked back and forth on his heels, deliberating for a moment longer before deciding to trust Rhode’s advice.

“Can you teach me?”

Triton froze, shoulders stiff and back straight, and Percy’s heart beat in his chest like a war drum.

“The trident…can—can you teach me?”

Silence.

And then…

“You wield a sword.”

“Yeah, but…I mean, it’s good to be proficient in as many forms of combat as possible, yeah? And I’ve always wanted to learn, because—you know…but no one at camp really…”

Percy had been itching to try trident wielding since he’d found out who his father was, but…well, it wasn’t exactly a common weapon at camp. Luke had offered to commission a few from the Hephaestus cabin so the two of them could learn together back in Percy’s first summer.

Of course, less than a week later the son of Hermes had tracked Percy down in the forest and tried to kill him, so…

Oh, hold up.

“I mean,” Percy continued, figuring it couldn’t hurt to drop that little tidbit. “The one person who even kind of offered to help me learn also tried to murder me a couple days after that, so I haven’t really…asked anybody else.”

Triton made an odd, choked noise, his shoulders drooping, and Percy knew he had him.

Triton was, in actuality, a pretty decent teacher.

One of the best Percy’d ever had, in all honesty.

He was clear and concise in his instructions, calm and firm and, most importantly, unflinchingly patient. He adjusted Percy’s form more than once without complaint until Percy settled into the correct stance with ease, walked Percy through the basic movements and drills until Percy’s muscles were aching, and he let Percy try over and over again until he succeeded.

The practice trident sat in Percy’s hands easily, his fingers curving over the leather grip.

Percy was far from an expert—that would only come with time and practice and experience—but the way the trident fit in his palms felt a little like coming home. Felt like Percy’s hands were made for it, in a way. The sea in his blood sang at the feeling of leather on his skin, at the weight of the bronze as he executed a final thrust.

Percy craned his head over his shoulder, grinning broadly at Triton at the successful move.

The god of the tides had been watching impassively, but at the sight of Percy’s grin he looked like he’d been sucker punched. A low oomph escaped Triton’s chest, and he took a miniscule step back.

Percy’s excitement faded, “Triton?”

“I…” Triton looked like he’d seen a ghost, and Percy’s mind flashed back to his vision. To the similarities he’d noticed between himself and Pallas—the line of their jaw, the angle of their cheekbones, the sea-green hue of their eyes, the curve of their lips.

Maybe…maybe Triton was seeing a ghost—maybe every time he looked at Percy, he saw the image of his daughter.

“Are you—” Percy cleared his throat, practice trident dangling limply at his side. “Are you okay?”

Triton tensed like he was preparing to bolt before, inexplicably, his shoulders dropped, and he locked eyes with Percy. There was an unfathomable grief in his eyes—a father mourning his daughter, a father forced to stare at the mirrored face of someone long lost to him.

Triton opened his mouth, and then, seeming lost for words, closed it again. Opened it. Closed it.

Percy let him.

“She would’ve liked you,” was what eventually came out of Triton’s mouth, barely audible but wrought with pain and loss.

Something ached deep in Percy’s chest at the words—a grief for someone he’d never met, someone he never would, someone who’d died long before his time in the arms of someone she’d trusted.

“I—I think I would’ve liked her, too.”

“I see her every time I look at you,” Triton whispered it like an admittance of guilt—the words of a man seeking penance, whose sins welled up in his throat until he choked on them.

Triton curled his shoulders inward as though bracing for Percy’s anger, as though Percy could ever find it in himself to blame Triton for seeing Pallas in his face.

“Most of Dad’s mortal children look like her, don’t they?”

Triton blinked, sea-green eyes uncomprehending, and Percy continued softly.

“She looked like you, and you look like him. And we look like him, so we look like her. That…that can’t be easy for you.”

Triton’s jaw clenched. “No. No, it isn’t.”

“We’re not just a living reminder of Dad’s unfaithfulness, we’re a living reminder of her. That’s why you don’t like us much.”

Triton’s nostrils flared, and Percy got the feeling he was thrown off by how easily Percy’d read into his motivations. “That’s…part of it, yes. The rest of it is just…well, I just have a lack of fondness for mortal heroes in general. Dad’s demigods tend to embody the worse parts of his nature—the wrath of the seas, the ferocity of the Stormbringer, the destruction of the Earthshaker. They walk the earth for such short periods of time and yet almost always leave a trail of blood in their wake. They come down here and push their way inside like they have every right and never…they never care. Not really. They—they almost always have her eyes and yet there’s none of the care for the sea in them, not like there was for her, and it…”

Triton stopped, forcing a deep breath out of his lungs like he was expelling his anger with it.

“Most—most of Dad’s demigods have his eyes—her eyes—but…none of them have looked so much like him as you. As a result, I may have been…harsher…on you than I would’ve normally been.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Percy commented wryly, sighing when Triton wilted slightly. “I’m not mad, dude.”

Triton squinted disbelievingly, “I’ve treated you like shit for three days for happening to look like my father—and consequently my long-dead daughter—and you’re…not mad?”

“It’s hard to be mad at you when you look so pathetic.”

“Pathetic?” Triton squawked in outrage.

“Ehhh, just a little bit, you know?” Percy made a face, putting his thumb and pointer finger close together.

“I do not—you—”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Percy said, sensing a golden opportunity. “You don’t look near as pathetic as Dad did at the winter solstice when he honest to gods pouted like a child after Apollo publicly claimed me as a prophet and then proceeded to argue with him like divorced parents in the middle of a custody battle for a solid half hour in front of the entire Olympian council and also me—said child in the middle of said custody battle.”

Triton’s mouth gaped, opening and closing like a fish for several moments, before a familiar devious gleam lit up in his eyes. “Tell me everything.”

Poseidon knew as soon as he sat down at the table for breakfast the next morning that something had happened between Triton and Percy, though—given the way he narrowed his eyes at Triton—he seemed very much under the impression that things had worsened between them.

Percy hid his anticipation all throughout the meal, knowing that Triton was simply waiting for the perfect opportunity to utilize his newfound knowledge.

The opportunity came in the form of Kymopoleia complaining about her day—apparently, she’d misplaced her bronze disk that she used in creating her most powerful storms, and she’d had to track it down across the whole city and threaten a bunch of merpeople.

Poseidon had responded with something about Kym needing to be more careful about portraying a responsible and mature image to the people of Atlantis as a member of the royal family, and Percy saw Triton straighten in his seat at the opening.

“Bold words from someone who almost lost custody of his sole demigod child to Apollo of all people.”

Percy, who’d been expecting it, had made sure to put down the food and drink in his hands just moments before. 

The rest of his family weren’t nearly so lucky. 

Rhode choked on the toast in her mouth and probably would’ve needed the Heimlich if she weren’t a goddess. Kymopoleia spat her drink all over Benthesikyme—an odd sight considering they were already underwater, and one would think that would mean they couldn’t get covered in other liquids, which clearly wasn’t the case. Benthesikyme likely would’ve been more offended if she hadn’t been leaning over to grab the bowl of eggs in the middle of the table and promptly dropped the entire bowl all over herself in shock. Herophile inhaled an entire waffle and burst into a coughing fit. Amphitrite jerked so hard she banged her knees into the table and also managed to knock over an entire pitcher of juice onto the floor. Tyson’s tools slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor and scattering under all of their feet.

Percy and Triton, throughout the whole thing, kept up two truly impressive poker faces. Poseidon, too, froze as though he were made of marble, the only sign of life being the various emotions that passed across his face—shock, disbelief, confusion—and then the realization that had him turning betrayed eyes on Percy.

“Perseus.”

Percy kept up his guiltless facade—though he was positive no one at the table was remotely fooled—blinking innocently at his father.

“Yes, Dad?”

Poseidon made several aborted motions to speak, seemingly unable to settle on what he wanted to say. 

“Why?” The god eventually got out.

Percy let his father wallow in misery for several long seconds before responding. “Nothing brings estranged siblings together like making their father regret having them.”

Poseidon did, in fact, look very much like he was regretting ever having children.

“You wanted us to get along, Father,” Triton pointed out, sharp teeth pulled into a grin that made him look like the cat who caught the canary. “We’re getting along.”

“I am…so pleased that you two have gotten over your differences,” Poseidon ground out, sounding anything but. “But could you have, perhaps, done it in a way that let me retain my dignity?”

“It was a necessary sacrifice,” Triton said.

“We needed the common ground that was making you suffer,” Percy added on brightly.

Poseidon groaned, dropping his head into his hands, and the move made him seem so human that Percy had to press his lips together to keep from laughing out loud.

Amphitrite took pity on her husband, giving him a consoling pat on the arm. “Come now, dear, it’s just some good fun. The boys are bonding.”

She turned her gaze on Triton and Percy then, giving them a look. “Boys, give your father a break.”

Percy pouted, but Triton just smirked.

“So, you don’t want to hear about how Apollo called Father a…what was it again, Percy?” The eldest child turned, raising an eyebrow at Percy.

“I believe it was something to the effect of…” Percy paused, tapping a finger against his lips lightly. “A ‘Barnacle Encrusted Shrimp Dick.’”

Poseidon made a sound like a deflating balloon.

The god of the seas was still grumbling when he led Percy into the outer city, but Percy could tell his father wasn’t really upset.

“Are you going to tell me where you’re taking me yet?” Percy asked for the dozenth time.

“Hmmph, not sure you deserve the knowledge,” Poseidon huffed.

“Oh, come on, Dad,” Percy whined. “You’re killing me here.”

Poseidon smiled but shook his head, reaching out to ruffle Percy’s hair. “We’re almost there, son, a little patience won’t kill you.”

Percy ducked away with a squawk, narrowing his eyes at his dad. “I get my lack of patience from you, you know.”

“Hmmm, yes, I’d gathered that. Come on, through here.”

Poseidon led him through an open archway into an enclosed garden—more of a miniature forest, really. Waist high seagrass and kelp stretched out before him, with clumps of red algae and coral structures scattered around. Small pearl lights floated above them, casting a warm glow on the entire place.

“Where…”

“I thought you’d like to see him,” Poseidon gestured right as the sea grass rustled and a small figure burst out.

“The Ophiotaurus,” Percy breathed. The Ophiotaurus rushed forward with a happy moo, winding around Percy.

Percy scratched behind the cow’s ears, cooing softly. “Oh, who’s a good boy—you’re a good boy. Oh, you’re so sweet. Yes, you are.”

The cow nuzzled Percy’s hand, staring up at him with big brown eyes.

“He’s settled in here well,” Poseidon said. “Only a few people even know he’s here—Amphitrite, Triton, a couple caretakers. He’s safe here, and he’ll remain that way.”

Percy turned to look at his dad, gratitude welling up in him. “Thank you, Dad.”

Poseidon smiled softly, reaching out to run a hand over the Ophiotaurus’s head. “There’s nothing to thank me for, son. He’s a sea creature—a part of my domain. It’s my responsibility to protect him.”

“A sea creature with the power to destroy your home if the Titans got a hold of him,” Percy pointed out. 

“But a sea creature nonetheless,” Poseidon said. “He cannot change the circumstances of his birth or the power in his blood.”

Percy paused in scratching behind the Ophiotaurus’s ears. “You’re not just talking about the Ophiotaurus anymore, are you?”

Poseidon laid a hand on Percy’s shoulder. “You didn’t ask to be born nor to wield the power you have in your veins. I wish…I wish I could protect you, my son, but…”

“I’m the prophecy child,” Percy whispered. “And you can’t—you can’t change that. My fate is my fate.”

“If I could change it,” Percy’s father said desperately. “If I could bear the burden for you—”

“I know,” Percy said—the weight of the Great Prophecy settled in his chest, slipping through his ribcage to wrap around his heart like a noose. “I know, Dad. But you can’t, and that’s okay.”

Poseidon squeezed Percy’s shoulder, looking deep in his eyes—searching for something in the depths. “Do you—do you know…”

“No,” Percy shook his head. “Prophet I may be, but I don’t know those words. I could if I wanted to, but…I won’t. I’ll know my fate when it’s time, and not a moment before.”

Poseidon’s gaze dropped, and Percy ducked his head to force his father to meet his eyes once more. “I do know this, though. No matter how clear cut a prophecy may seem, one won’t truly know how things come to pass until they do. There are many different ways a line can be interpreted.”

Percy’s dad slumped, a wry smile flicking across his face. “I brought you out here to comfort you, and here you are giving me advice.”

Percy just shrugged, looking down when the Ophiotaurus nudged his hand petulantly, begging for more scratches—to which Percy obliged.

“You’re a good dad, you know,” he said softly. “I’m—I’m proud to be your son.”

“Not as proud as I am to be your father,” Poseidon returned firmly. “Even when you’re teaming up with your siblings to make me regret ever introducing you.”

Percy flushed but leaned into his dad’s chest when Poseidon wrapped an arm around him.

The morning of Percy’s fifth day in Atlantis found him waking with a familiar itch in his fingers. He was twitchy all throughout breakfast, dodging his family’s concern by asking for a sketchbook and pencil. Poseidon snapped them into existence, albeit rather confusedly, and Percy ducked into the royal gardens as soon as the plates were cleared.

His hands were practically shaking with the urge to draw—he hadn’t drawn a single thing in over a week, since before Westover Hall.

Percy found a comfortable bench in a secluded alcove and plopped down. As soon as he put the pencil to paper his muscles took over.

Percy’s mind stayed firmly in his body—even as his hands moved on their own—for the first four sketches: Percy and Thorn on the edge of the cliff, Apollo kneeling under the sky with Percy at his feet, Clarisse and Chris in separate dark hallways, a grove of trees with wind chimes hanging from the branches.

And then, between one blink and the next, Percy was gone.

There were no visions, no feelings, no thoughts. Just oblivion.

A minute could’ve passed, or an hour, or a day, before Percy blinked his eyes open to Benthesikyme’s worried face. She had one of her hands on his cheek and seemed to be trying to speak to him.

There was a strange ringing in his ears though, and Percy tried to open his mouth to tell her he couldn’t hear her. His mouth wouldn’t move. All that escaped his throat was a strangled sort of groan.

Benthesikyme was frowning, her thumb running across his cheek gently. The movement left a trail of heat, and Percy tried to press his face closer.

He was cold all of a sudden…or he thought he might be cold. It was hard to be sure when he couldn’t really feel…well, anything.

“…ercy…can…ear me?”

Benthesikyme’s voice filtered in a little like radio static, and Percy’s brows furrowed as he tried to respond.

“Ben…?” He mumbled questioningly. 

Benthesikyme smiled, seeming too relieved to care about Percy’s shortening of her name.

“You back with me?”

Back?

Percy frowned, forcing his sluggish mind to think back on the last thing he remembered.

He’d…he’d been—oh, he’d been drawing.

“…did it ‘gain,” he said.

Benthesikyme looked confused.

“Floated,” Percy elaborated. “Happens sometimes.”

Feeling was creeping back into him slowly. And…oh. Oh. 

Percy was—Percy was positively frigid. That aching, biting cold was crawling through his veins again.

A shudder wracked through him, and Benthesikyme frowned again.

“Your lips are blue,” she noted. “Fingers, too. Is that…is that normal for you?”

“N—” Percy cut himself off with a shiver. “Cold.”

“Cold,” Benthesikyme repeated. “Okay, can I—how can I help?”

Ice crept up Percy’s throat out of frostbitten lungs. He wanted…

He wanted—

“Dad?”

Percy felt five years old all over again, wanting the comfort of a father and finding only Gabe’s beady eyes and clenched fists.

Percy was cold. Percy was cold and he wanted his dad.

“You want Dad?” Bentheskyme checked, waiting for Percy’s tiny nod. “Okay, okay, I’ll call him here.”

Percy blinked and then it was Poseidon kneeling in front of him, frowning deeply and turning over his shoulder to speak with Benthesikyme.

Percy slumped forward into his dad’s hands, letting the crashing waves of Poseidon’s aura soothe the chill in his veins.

“…said he was…how long…got it from here.” Poseidon shifted to sit on the bench next to Percy and pulled him into his side. Percy curled into his father’s chest gratefully. Somebody wrapped a blanket around him, tucking him further into his dad’s chest, and Percy craned his head around to catch Benthesikyme as she was leaving.

“Thanks, Ben,” he murmured quietly.

Poseidon clutched Percy’s numb fingers in his own hands, gradually rubbing warmth back into them.

“Perseus, son,” Poseidon said softly. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“Floated,” Percy told him.

“Yes, Benthesikyme mentioned something about that. It’s happened before, she said?”

Percy nodded, his cheek brushing up against his father’s shirt.

“When I draw, it’s like…sometimes my mind just—just leaves. I never really mean to do it…just happens. Except on the mountain. I kept—under the sky, it hurt too much, so I just kept…throwing myself out of my body. And then once Apollo took it, he said it was dangerous. That it took a toll on my body every time I did it.”

Percy couldn’t see his dad’s face, but he was sure the god was frowning. “Did Apollo tell you what it was?”

Percy shook his head. “Just that I couldn’t keep doing it in my condition. Lee says it's something similar to dissociation, but I always just call it ‘floating.’ We’ve…we’ve been working on methods of keeping me grounded when I draw, but…”

“But it hasn’t really worked,” Poseidon finished.

“The only really effective methods we found were if I was sitting by Aunt Hestia at the hearth or if Lee was there to pull me out as soon as he saw I was starting to float. We talked about seeing if other people might be able to do the same—like I’d just need to draw with another person with me, but I didn’t…I didn’t want anyone else to know.”

Poseidon sighed heavily, “I wish you’d said something sooner, but I can’t blame you for not wanting to talk about it. It’s…not an easy thing for you to admit you need help.”

“Noticed that, have you?” Percy snorted.

His dad didn’t respond except to run a warm hand through Percy’s hair.

“Your fingers aren’t blue anymore,” Poseidon said eventually. “You feeling warmer?”

“Mhmm,” Percy burrowed deeper into the blanket. “Thanks.”

“Of course, my son. I was…concerned,” Percy’s dad admitted slowly. “When Benthesikyme called for me and told me what happened.”

“Didn’t mean to worry you. I didn’t know drawing—floating—would give me a cold spell.”

Poseidon hummed, and Percy felt him drop a kiss on his forehead that had him flushing with happiness. “What do you say we get you some lunch, yeah? The others will be waiting.”

“M’kay,” Percy murmured.

Poseidon stood, pulling Percy up with him and then bending down to pick up Percy’s discarded sketchbook. The god paused then, eyes caught on the open page.

“You drew this?”

Percy frowned, leaning over to catch a glimpse of the sketch—he didn’t recognize it, so he must’ve drawn it while floating.

“Does it mean something to you?” He asked his father, who had yet to look away from the page.

“It’s Oceanus,” Poseidon responded.

“The Titan of the Ocean,” Percy said. “He ruled the seas before you.”

“He did, and he stepped down peacefully, at that. He refused to fight in the first Titanomachy, and has remained neutral in every godly war since.”

Percy furrowed his eyebrows, looking up at his father before turning his gaze back to the picture.

Oceanus was the main focal point, riding in a chariot pulled by huge sea serpents. His hair and beard were long, braided tightly into a warrior’s plait, and a pair of bull horns stuck up near the front of his head. A serpent was curled around his arm, head raised and mouth agape as though ready to attack.

“He doesn’t look very neutral,” he said.

“No,” Poseidon sighed. “The seas have been restless as of late. Old creatures that have not awakened for millennia are stirring in the depths. This—what you drew…I fear it means war is coming to my kingdom.”

“You think your father convinced Oceanus to fight?” Percy asked.

His father pursed his lips, “I could not find the Princess Andromeda. For it to be hidden from my sight, someone truly powerful must be at play. Oceanus is the only one who could effectively hide the vessel from my sight on the sea.”

Percy bit his lip, snaking a hand out of his blanket to flip the page, hoping for another sketch that would explain more.

Poseidon’s breath hitched as Percy unveiled another drawing, and Percy felt a shock of horror run through him.

“My kingdom,” Poseidon whispered.

Atlantis in ruins, crumbled marble columns and crushed coral gardens and shattered pearl lights, dust from the destruction clouding the water.

Percy, fingers trembling, flipped the page again only to find it blank. He flipped back to the page before Oceanus, but the sketch was of Chris.

Percy cursed, turning away and leaving the sketchbook to his father. What was the point of being a prophet if he didn’t see things that could help? Why couldn’t he see something that would help his dad—help his father’s kingdom?

Maybe…could he—he’d given Luke a full prophecy, hadn’t he? He could give one to his father, couldn’t he?

But he hadn’t done it on purpose. The words had slipped out of his throat against his will. How did he do it willingly?

Percy frowned, closing his eyes and reaching deep down into his chest, reaching for his sight. He didn’t reach for it purposefully often, and never in hopes of speaking an actual prophecy.

But…for his dad? For his new family and the people of Atlantis?

Percy would try.

“Perseus?”

He jerked away from his father’s touch—he was close, he could tell, the words bubbling up in his lungs and crawling up his throat.

“Per—”

Every muscle in his body locked up at once, neck straining from the effort, and then Percy spoke. The voice he spoke in was his, but only barely, something soft and whispering, sweeping through like a sea breeze despite being underwater. Something powerful and ancient layered his words, echoing throughout the garden with every syllable.

The pride of the sea shall call for you,

And you must choose which fight is true.

To save your pride or save your home,

A dangerous monster left to roam.

Abandon all to he who was neutral,

And aid your pride when it is most crucial.

Percy staggered as the tension flooded out of him all at once, and the only thing that kept him standing was his father’s arms catching him, pulling him into a warm chest.

“Perseus?” 

Percy couldn’t respond, too busy wheezing, struggling to draw air into lungs that didn’t seem to remember how to work.

“Breathe, son,” Poseidon placed a hand on his chest, soothing his aching lungs until he could breathe again.

“‘m okay,” he murmured as soon as he had enough breath to speak. “I’m—I’m okay.”

Poseidon hummed, cradling Percy’s face so he could look him in the eyes. Whatever he saw had him narrowing his eyes.

“You did that on purpose,” Poseidon accused.

“Wanted to help,” Percy said.

Poseidon pursed his lips. “I appreciate that, but you didn’t need to—”

“I wanted to,” Percy said. “If war is coming to Atlantis—these are my people, too. I want to help as best I can.”

His dad sighed, but couldn’t hide the pride in his eyes—Percy knew that not all of his mortal children cared about the wellbeing of Poseidon’s subjects, but…despite only having met them for the first time just this week, they were Percy’s people. If he could help protect them by speaking a prophecy then he would.

“I’m proud of you, my son, for caring about my subjects. Just…warn me next time you decide to spontaneously spout a full prophecy, yes?”

Percy blushed. “I’ll try,” he promised.

“I suppose that’s the best I can hope for,” Poseidon smiled, tucking Percy under his arm and beginning to lead him out of the garden.

“Now, hungry?”

“Starving,” Percy admitted.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we? We’ll have lunch, and then you’ll take it easy the rest of the day,” Poseidon said.

“Wh—but Triton was gonna give me another trident lesson today,” Percy protested.

“Triton will understand if you need to rest.”

“But—”

Poseidon met Percy’s eyes, for once not crumbling under Percy’s begging face. “You still have two more days here, yes? And this’ll be far from the only time you’ll visit. Triton will have plenty of time to teach you.”

Percy grumbled, but accepted that if the begging face didn’t work he had no shot at winning—and to be honest, he kind of wanted to spend the day curled up in a blanket.

Percy’s last few days in Atlantis seemed to fly by. He bounced around from family member to family member, went to go see the Ophiotaurus—who Percy lovingly called Phio because saying the Ophiotaurus everytime was getting old, and wandered the streets of his father’s kingdom getting to know the merpeople of Atlantis. 

They had a shark sanctuary where sharks injured by humans could recuperate and get help—Percy may have spent half a day cooing over the different sharks in the sanctuary, but they had a baby thresher named Vanity that was absolutely adorable, and Percy couldn’t be blamed for falling in love.

The head of the sanctuary—a merman named Kula—had been rather enthused about Percy’s clear joy and had answered every question—and there were a lot of questions—eagerly.

Percy was packing up to leave, not quite sure how he’d accumulated so many things in the week he’d been here when he’d literally arrived only with the clothes on his back, when Triton popped up in the doorway looking uncharacteristically nervous.

“You about to leave?”

“Yeah,” Percy zipped the waterproof bag shut and did one last checkover to make sure he hadn’t missed anything. Amphitrite had said that the room Percy was in was his, meaning even if he did forget something it shouldn’t matter. She’d also said that next time he visited they would decorate to be more personable—because Percy had a room here. He was coming back, and he had a room that was just his.

“You need something? I thought you and everyone else were gonna say goodbye at the entrance.”

“I…yes,” Triton looked more awkward than Percy had ever seen him. “I thought…well, I—I have something for you.”

“You…oh,” Percy straightened up, his hands falling lax around his bag. “You do?”

Several of Percy’s siblings had given him gifts already: a storm in a glass ball from Kym, a new and improved shield from Tyson, a frankly gigantic set of fancy drawing materials from Herophile, an enchanted heated blanket from Rhode, a lava stone from Benthesikyme that would fit in his pocket and always stay warm—and when Percy said lava stone he meant an actual rock with lava swirling around inside that would never cool down. 

Amphitrite, also, had gifted him with an entire matching jewelry set proudly displaying the sigils of the royal family—a trident, crab’s claw, conch shell, storm, curling wave, palm tree, and an open oyster with a pearl in the center—and Percy had tried very hard not to tear up at that one.

Poseidon had presented him with a full set of armor—because he was over the top like that. It was leather, which Percy appreciated, seeing as his style tended to rely on speed and the bronze armor from camp had a tendency to weigh him down too much. A dark blue green, molded to look like overlapping scales, with accents of gold.

It was also—because of course it was—stamped with gold tridents pretty much everywhere: the center of his chest, his shoulders, his greaves, his gauntlets.

Percy had given his father a look and the god had just grinned shamelessly, so Percy had shaken his head and accepted the set.

Truthfully, Triton was the only member of the family that hadn’t given him anything yet, and Percy had taken that to mean he wasn’t going to—which was fine, really. Percy hadn’t expected the rest of the family to give him anything, and he’d expected it from Triton even less.

Clearly, he’d been wrong.

Triton flicked his tails, swimming forward and stopping directly in front of Percy. He was clutching something tightly in his hand, and Percy tilted his head curiously.

Triton dropped it in his hand unceremoniously, revealing the gift to be a silver bracelet with a trident charm.

“Pull the charm,” Triton instructed before Percy could say anything.

Percy obliged, letting out a startled squawk when the charm expanded in his palm until Percy was holding—

A trident.

“Is this—you…” 

“Ah, so this is what it takes to render you speechless,” Triton said with a smirk before sobering. “I—well, you’ve made significant progress with the trident, and I know you wished to continue practicing, so…”

Percy couldn’t take his eyes off the weapon in his hand. The grip was leather—the same leather as Percy’s armor set from Poseidon—and the rest of the trident was made of expertly forged Celestial bronze. The tips were gleaming, and the butt of the trident contained a hidden point as well—just like Triton’s own trident.

It was beautiful.

And it was Percy’s.

“I—Triton, I don’t even…thank you,” Percy said sincerely.

Triton looked uncomfortable with the thanks, his tails flicking awkwardly. “Don’t mention it. I just…didn’t want my hard work to go to waste, that’s all.”

Percy ducked his head with a small smile, not believing Triton’s words for a second. “Mhmm, okay.”

Triton cleared his throat, looking away and avoiding Percy’s knowing gaze. “Its name is Current. Drop it with the intent to return it to a charm and it’ll reappear on your bracelet. It’ll also return to the bracelet on its own on the off chance you lose it.”

Percy clasped the bracelet around his left wrist with another grateful smile at his brother.

Percy slung his bag over his shoulder, and Triton swam with him to the entrance to the palace, where the rest of their family were waiting next to the hippocampus who was going to take him to camp.

Every single one of them grinned knowingly at Triton when Percy bounced forward with a beaming grin, and the eldest child blushed a dark green.

“Not a word,” Triton muttered.

Amphitrite took pity on her son and moved forward to envelope Percy in a tight hug.

“Come back soon, yes? Don’t wait for your father to invite you.”

Percy nodded, letting the rest of the family bid him goodbye before mounting the waiting hippocampus and speeding off toward the surface.

Chapter Text

Percy made it to the cabin area right as breakfast let out, and he was greeted by a flood of campers coming back for free time. 

Lacy spotted him first, letting out a loud gasp and rushing toward him, “Percy!”

Percy soon found himself surrounded by the entirety of the year-round Aphrodite cabin, and Drew, who was at camp on break, as well as a good number of the other year-round campers, all pulling him into tight hugs and checking him over for nonexistent injuries.

He assured them he was fine, but Silena just looked him over with a critical eye and a considering hum.

The welcome party was interrupted by a furious yell.

“Perseus Jackson!”

The crowd around Percy gave a collective wince. Percy spotted the Stolls backing away nervously and pulling Castor and Pollux with them.

Annabeth Chase was making her way toward him and based on her face Percy was sure she’d be stomping if it weren’t for the clunky brace on her leg and the cane clutched in her hand.

“Oh, hey, Annabeth,” Percy said, glancing at the rest of his friends in confusion. “What’s—” Percy cut his question off with a yelp as Annabeth grasped his collar tightly and yanked him forward.

“You—you—” Annabeth seemed too furious for words, the cane in her left hand swinging wildly.

“Me—what did I do?”

Annabeth’s nostrils flared, and Drew leaned forward cautiously, keeping well out of range of the cane. “We, ah, heard the news about the whole prophet thing.”

Percy felt the blood leave his face.

“Ah.”

He turned back to Annabeth, who raised an angry eyebrow.

“I—right, okay. Come—let me go, and we’ll go…let’s talk about this somewhere else, yeah?”

Annabeth let out a sharp breath, releasing Percy’s shirt and spinning around to stalk off in the direction of the canoe lake.

Percy exchanged a commiserating glance with the others before following her.

“Well?” Annabeth demanded as soon as they settled at the end of the dock.

Percy swung his legs in the water, waving at his friends Laka and Vera idly as he thought over what to say.

“I—look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I hardly told anyone—”

“But Lee knew,” Annabeth said, and Percy winced at the hurt in her voice.

“He did,” Percy confirmed. “Lee’s known since the first time we met. I told Silena and Clarisse last summer.”

“Why not me?”

“It’s not—I trust you, Annabeth. I do. It’s not about trust. It’s just…it’s hard to talk about. I’ve known I was a prophet since before I knew I was a demigod—known the fates of people like me since I was kid. Telling people…it’s dangerous. For me and for whoever I tell. The only reason I agreed to let Apollo tell the rest of the Olympians was because Luke—Luke already knew, and he told the rest of the Titans. It didn’t make sense to try and keep the secret when our enemies already knew.”

“How did Luke—”

“He looked through my sketchbook that first summer and put it together. Said something over the summer and Clarisse and Silena heard—that’s why I told them.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, drumming her fingers on the bronze owl head that made up the grip.

“I should’ve told you in person,” Percy said. “When I let Apollo break the news to Olympus—I didn’t even think of how that would feel for you…for all of my friends.”

“It hurt,” Annabeth admitted. “The others were a little bent out of shape about it, too, until Lee sat all of the counselors down a couple days ago and basically threatened us into not blaming you. Said you were entitled to your secrets, and you didn’t owe anybody the knowledge of your sight. Also said that the first person who asked you for a prophecy would…ah, have an arrow sticking out of their ass before they could blink.”

Percy gave a short, soft laugh. “Sounds like him alright. I’m guessing that speech didn’t go over real well with you?”

Annabeth flushed, ducking her head. “Not particularly. I just—you’re—no matter how Lee phrased it, it still felt like you just didn’t trust me enough to tell me. I would’ve kept your secret, Percy. I would’ve helped you with it.”

“I know, Annabeth. I know you would’ve taken it to your grave if I’d asked you to. You’d have helped me as best you could. It had nothing to do with any of that. I just…I spent my whole childhood watching seers face horrible fates. Cassandra, Tiresias, Lyco and Orphe, countless other Oracles and seers throughout history—people that time forgot but I didn’t. How could I…”

“I can understand that when we first met, but after everything—”

“It’s not—Annabeth, I didn’t even tell my mom.”

Annabeth knit her eyebrows, still not looking happy, and Percy felt frustration wash over him. He reminded himself that Annabeth had a lot of major trust issues due to her childhood and everything with Luke, so it made sense that she would struggle with Percy’s perceived lack of trust.

She was also a daughter of Athena, and the wisdom goddess’s children had a habit of needing to know everything. They had to know everything, they had to be a part of everything, and secrets being kept from them drove them insane.

It was a quirk of Annabeth and her siblings’ personalities that Percy had learned to accept, even if their habit of sticking their noses into literally everything made him want to dunk them in the lake.

Annabeth liked to be in charge, to make the calls and devise the strategies, and to do that she had to be aware of everything going on.

She didn’t really have a concept of other people’s privacy—every secret was fair game to her, and she just absolutely couldn’t understand why other people didn’t want to divulge them to her. 

She just had to know so she could make the correct strategies, the correct choices, so she wouldn’t be blindsided.

Percy got that, but that didn’t mean her casual invasion of his privacy, her assumption that she had the right to his secrets, didn’t rankle him.

“Look, I can’t go back and—and decide to tell you sooner. I can’t change what I did, and I don’t want to. I told people when I was ready, and I’m sorry if that’s not good enough for you.”

Annabeth puffed up at the clear frustration in Percy’s voice, but Percy—frankly, rather done with the whole conversation—stood up before she could get a word out.

“I’m gonna go finish my conversation with the others, since I was pulled away rather abruptly in the middle of it.”

Percy left her spluttering at the end of the dock and made his way back to the cabin area. Castor and Pollux were the only two still hanging around, and they winced simultaneously when they got a glimpse of Percy’s face.

“That bad, huh?” Pollux said sympathetically.

“Ughh. She’s just so—so…” He trailed off into a wordless rage-filled groan.

“She’s been a little insufferable all week,” Castor said. “Only got worse when Lee sat us down and gave us the whole spiel.”

“And you guys are…okay with everything?”

Both of them shrugged. 

“Not a big deal to us, honestly,” Castor told him. “Most of the other campers are the same, once they got over their original shock and stuff.”

“Tell you the truth,” Pollux leaned forward conspiratorially, “Annabeth and her siblings are the only people who ever had any real issue with it, you know how they are about secrets, and even then, most of them got over it once Drew charmspoke one of them into the lake for making a comment about it. Annabeth’s the only one that’s really still butt hurt about it.”

“And she’ll get over it,” Castor added. “Just…ignore whatever nonsense she spouts in the meantime.”

“Thanks, guys. That—that helps a lot, actually,” Percy smiled gratefully.

“No prob, dude. You’re our friend,” Pollux punched him in the shoulder lightly.

Castor, meanwhile, lit up as he seemed to remember something. “Hey, you wanna come up to the strawberry fields with us? We’re meeting some of the Demeter cabin there, and now that you’re here we can finally settle that flower crown discussion.”

Percy blinked, vaguely remembering promising to judge the flower crowns at the winter solstice. Pollux widened his eyes from next to his brother, shaking his head minutely, while Castor gave him a disarmingly innocent smile. “Oh, right. I—yeah, sure.”

Castor gave a little hop, looping his arm through Percy’s and dragging him in the direction of the strawberry fields. “Perfect. Katie and I’ve been arguing about it literally all week, and I can’t wait to prove her wrong.”

“I—” Percy looked over his shoulder at Pollux. “Why am I a judge again? Who else is judging?”

“Just you.”

“Everyone else had the common sense not to get involved,” Pollux said dryly.

“Oh,” Percy blinked. “I’m not gonna get, like, poisoned by the loser, right?”

Castor said nothing, continuing to pull him up the hill without a word.

“Right?”

“Oh, look. We’re here. Katie!”

Katie Gardner glanced up from where she’d been kneeling next to a row of strawberries and coaxing them into growing. Her face lit up as soon as she saw Percy.

“Our flower judge has arrived!”

The rest of Katie’s siblings winced from behind her back, and Percy began to get the feeling he’d made a mistake—look, they’d cornered him at the winter solstice, and Katie could be really convincing when she wanted to be, so what was Percy supposed to have done?

“That’s, uh, that’s me. Just checking, though. I won’t be facing any sort of retribution or retaliation from either of you no matter what I decide, yeah?”

Nothing.

“Right, yeah,” Percy said into the telling silence. “Because if I were to find myself on the wrong end of some revenge prank following this contest, I would, of course, take myself to the infirmary to get a checkup afterwards—just to make sure the prank did no damage and all, you know how these things go—and while I’m there I might just mention to my good friend Lee that the two of you asked me to give you a prophecy.”

“You wouldn’t,” Castor said, his face turning pale.

“I would,” Percy grinned sharply.

A moment of silence and then—

“Fuck—alright, fine. No retaliation,” Katie huffed.

“From either of us,” Castor agreed.

“Wonderful.” Percy clapped his hands together. “Let’s get on with the contest, then, shall we?”

They both shot him appropriately wary looks before kneeling down to begin the construction of their flower crowns.

“Nicely done,” Danny, a son of Demeter, murmured softly. 

“Guess we were worried about you for nothing,” Pollux said, swinging an arm over Percy’s shoulder.

“Being a prophet does have its perks,” Percy said.

“I’d say the real perk here is Lee,” Pollux snorted. “You should’ve heard him when he gave us all the lecture—dude was terrifying.”

“Mmm, guess I’ll have to thank him.” Percy’s mind flashed back to the winter solstice at the words, and his face flushed.

It was just a kiss on the cheek, Percy told himself.

Well, two kisses on the cheek, he amended.

“Oh, is that a blush I see?” Pollux poked Percy’s cheek with a teasing grin.

“No, fuck off,” Percy swatted the hand away, covering his cheeks and desperately willing the blush to go down.

“It is!” Miranda crowed. “You thought about Lee and started blushing!”

“Fuck you,” Percy buried his face in his hands as his friends started giggling.

“What’s happening?” Castor popped up in front of them. “Why are we laughing at Percy?” 

“Percy’s blushing at the mere thought of Lee,” Pollux told his brother conspiratorially.

“I am not—shut up,” Percy whipped his head up, narrowing his eyes at the snickering demigods. “I will—I’ll—”

“Mhmm, you’ll what?” Danny smirked. “Tattle on us to Lee? What’ll you say—they were making fun of me for blushing at the mere mention of your name—ack!”

Percy whacked Danny in the face with one of the clumps of snow still scattered on the hillside, cutting off the rest of his sentence.

The demigods on the hill scattered with gleeful shrieks when Percy bent down for another handful of snow.

“Snowball fight!” Miranda shouted.

“Run for your lives!” Pollux screeched when Percy caught him in the back of the head with such force that the son of Dionysus faceplanted.

“Who's laughing now?” Percy pelted Danny, ducking Miranda’s retaliatory shot with a laugh.

The rest of the Demeter cabin that were congregated on the hill joined them in pelting each other with snow until they were embroiled in a brutal free for all. Percy’d never really had a snowball fight before, but he was very much enjoying himself, scooping up snow and hurling it at the other campers whilst dodging their attacks. 

Layla used her brother Micah as a human shield, shoving him into the snow with a gleeful giggle and sending a return snowball in Bennett’s direction.

Miranda dragged a shrieking Katie into the fight, forcing her to abandon her flower crown.

Pollux and Castor teamed up for all of five seconds until Pollux shoved a clump of snow down his brother’s shirt and left him hopping around, desperately trying to shake it out.

Percy dodged a snowball from Danny only to find himself literally tackled to the ground by Castor. The son of Dionysus shoved a handful of snow in Percy’s face and Percy retaliated by flinging his own snowball at the side of his head. Castor screeched, the force of the hit sending him tumbling off of Percy’s chest into the snow.

Percy sat up, preparing to follow him when Castor held his hands up in surrender.

“I give, I give,” Castor panted, snow still dusted in his blonde hair.

“That’s what I thought,” Percy said, flopping back on the ground. The rest of the fight was dwindling down around them, stopping completely when Katie tripped Bennett and sent him face first into a pile of snow, a move that had the rest of the group laughing too hard to pick up any more snow.

“My—fuck, where’s my—” Katie stumbled a few feet away, giggling too much to make any sense. She bent down, coming back up with a circlet of white and yellow flowers in her hands.

“My flower crown,” Castor gasped, shooting up and scrambling for his own crown.

Katie presented her circlet to Percy, kneeling on one knee and raising it up in the air dramatically.

“Dear judge, I present to you this—this crown, lovingly pieced together out of sunflowers, which are seen as a sign of hope and warmth and long-lasting happiness, and daisies, which are known to symbolize new beginnings and friendship and joy.”

Percy oohed and aahed appreciatively, taking the flower crown and examining it closely. “Very nice,” he said. “I like the leaves poking through the flowers, adds a little bit of green, very nice touch.”

Katie beamed and Castor scoffed, pushing her out of the way. He grabbed Katie’s flower crown out of Percy’s hands and tossed it away contemptuously, ignoring her outraged squawk.

Castor bowed at the waist, presenting his own circlet of flowers with a flourish. “Oh, dear, magnificent judge, I present you with this flower crown I painstakingly made by hand. It is blue.”

“Ooooh,” Percy gasped. 

“Oh, come on,” Katie complained. “That’s not—”

“Know your audience, Gardner,” Castor snarked. “Not my fault you didn’t think to put any blue in your abomination.”

“It is not—”

“It’s so pretty,” Percy said, “I love the blue.”

Castor preened as Percy held the crown close to his face to better appreciate the deep blues and purples that made up the circlet.

Percy cleared his throat purposefully, “I, Percy, the magnificent and fair judge of…of flower crowns, the—the—”

“Overseer,” Pollux offered helpfully.

“Overseer of all things, uh, flowery and pretty, do proclaim…Castor to be the winner of this contest.”

Castor whooped, hopping up and down triumphantly as Katie raged in the background.

Castor took his flower crown back, placing it reverently on Percy’s head. “A gift for you, my fair and beautiful judge.”

“Beautiful?” Percy raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, yes,” Castor grinned. “With my flower crown on especially.”

Percy snorted. “Flattered, truly.”

A shout in the distance had Percy turning his head, and he smiled when he caught sight of Lee tramping up the hill to join them, a folded blanket clutched under his arm.

Lee stopped dead when reached the crest, eyes locked on Percy.

“I proclaimed Castor the winner of the flower crown contest,” Percy said, figuring Lee was caught off guard by the circlet on Percy’s head.

“It—” Lee cleared his throat. “It looks nice.”

“It’s blue!” Percy said brightly, fingering the flowers on his head. He let out a quiet ooh, as an idea came to him and quickly snatched up Katie’s abandoned flower crown.

Lee made a quiet noise when Percy placed the crown on his head, but let Percy adjust the circlet lightly.

“There,” Percy stepped back once he was satisfied. “It’s only second place, I’m afraid, but…”

“What honor,” Lee said wryly, but Percy could see the faint blush painting his cheekbones.

Percy heard one of the Demeter kids snort, and when he turned they were all looking away conspicuously.

“Right,” Pollux said. “Well, as thrilling as this all is, Castor and I’ve got…places to be.”

Percy blinked when the Dionysus twins headed down the hill, the Demeter cabin quick to follow with their own murmured excuses.

“What…” Percy blinked after them in confusion—it was still free time, where did they have to be?

“Ignore them,” Lee muttered, grasping Percy’s arm and pulling him down, spreading the blanket so they weren’t sitting on the cold snow. “They’re all just being…ridiculous.”

“Why are they being ridiculous? And what’s the blanket for?” Percy asked, even as he got comfortable on the warm blanket.

“Didn’t want you to sit on the snow while we caught up,” Lee shrugged, nudging Percy’s shoulder with a smile. “You only I-Med once while you were there. How was it? What happened? Tell me everything.”

Percy grinned, collapsing back onto the blanket.

“Damn,” Lee said once Percy was done. “Can’t even say I’m surprised.”

Percy quirked a curious eyebrow, and Lee elaborated.

“You won over, like, all of your immortal siblings and your stepmother in less than a week.”

“Okay?”

“It’s what you do, Perce. You just sweep into places like a storm and before anyone knows it they’re caught up in it…caught up in you.”

Percy couldn’t decipher the look Lee shot him, but it had his face heating up.

“’m not that special,” Percy murmured.

Lee propped himself up on his elbow so he could stare down at Percy incredulously.

“You’re serious?” He asked after several long seconds. “You’re actually—you don’t see…”

Lee shook his head, ignoring Percy’s furrowed eyebrows, and leaning down until his face hovered mere inches away from Percy’s.

“One of the most powerful prophets to ever live and still you miss what’s right in front of you.”

“What are you…” Percy trailed off, gaze caught on Lee’s blue eyes right above his own. They were so close that he could feel the heat radiating off his friend.

“Can I kiss you?” Lee asked, and Percy’s entire brain blue-screened like a laptop.

“Wh…what?”

“Can I—I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?” Lee repeated, voice steady and earnest despite his clear nerves.

“You want to kiss me,” Percy said slowly, still not understanding. 

“Yes,” Lee said, his lips twitching up at Percy’s obvious lack of understanding. “I want to kiss you. I’ve wanted to kiss you for an entire year now and somehow, you’ve remained completely oblivious despite the fact that I’ve been entirely unsubtle and literally everyone else knows.”

Percy’s heart skipped a beat as it all came together.

The way Silena and Drew giggled every time Percy brought Lee to a spa day, the looks they got every time one of them dragged the other away to talk, all the little comments over the past several months that Percy hadn’t been able to understand, the unreadable emotion in Lee’s eyes every time they got too close. 

Lee wanted to kiss Percy.

Lee wanted to kiss Percy.

Lee wanted to kiss Percy.

Lee wanted to kiss Percy.

Lee, who Percy trusted more than anyone, who made Percy feel safe and comforted and warm. Lee, who’d saved Percy’s life more than once, who’d recently traveled across the entire country to save Percy again. Lee, who Percy looked for in every room he entered no matter who else was there. Lee, who made everything seem brighter and warmer and better.

Lee, who Percy had caught himself looking at more than once in recent months in a way most friends didn’t.

Lee, with his matching white streak and blue eyes and lean muscles that Percy had zoned out on time after time after time and—

Oh.

Oh.

Everything slotted into place with startling clarity.

Percy liked Lee.

Percy liked Lee.

Liked the way his laugh echoed through Percy’s bones, liked the smile he had that was just for Percy and no one else, liked the way his eyes looked in the sunlight and the way he was endlessly patient and gentle with his younger siblings, liked the way his eyebrows furrowed when he was concentrating hard on something and the confidence in his posture every time he drew his bow, liked—liked everything.

Percy had it bad and he hadn’t even realized it.

How could he not have—it was Lee, it had been Lee this whole time and Percy hadn’t even noticed. Somehow, somewhere along the line Percy’d gotten a ridiculously huge crush on Lee and just…not put it together.

The looks and the blushes and the constantly wanting to be near him and touch him and—and—

“Percy?” Lee’s voice broke him out of his epiphany, looking more and more nervous the longer Percy laid there in shock as his entire brain deconstructed and rebuilt itself with the knowledge that Percy was kind of ridiculously obsessed with Lee Fletcher.

“Yes,” Percy said suddenly. 

Lee blinked. “Yes?”

“Yes, I—you can kiss me…I want you to kiss me.”

Percy saw the moment Lee realized what he’d said, his mouth parting in surprise, as though, despite being the one to ask, he hadn’t really expected Percy to say yes.

As if Percy could ever say no to Lee—as if he’d ever want to say no to Lee.

Percy quirked his lips into something soft and sweet and just for Lee, watching him track the movement with his eyes.

Percy finally clocked the heat that flickered through Lee’s eyes, the affection, the want.

“Lee,” Percy watched Lee drag his eyes back up Percy’s face.

The next few moments felt like they stretched on forever.

Lee brought his hand up to cup the side of Percy’s face, the touch whisper soft—as though Lee was afraid he’d crumble to dust under his fingers.

Percy’s breath caught in his chest when Lee leaned down, crossing the scant few inches between them to press his lips to Percy’s.

Percy’s brain short circuited, every thought leaking out of his ears as he melted in the kiss.

An inferno blazed through his veins all the way down to the tips of his toes—like the very first time Lee had touched Percy, and he’d burned at the contact.

This time Percy welcomed the heat, drank it in with the brush of Lee’s lips on his own and let it chase any hint of a chill out of his blood.

Lee drew back just enough to rest his forehead on Percy’s, their noses brushing against each other. Lee let out a breathless laugh that had Percy tilting his head up just the slightest, bringing their lips together once more.

Percy could feel the smile on Lee’s lips, the vibration of the low noise that got caught in his chest, the stutter in his heart the moment their lips reconnected, and he rather thought he might like to stay there forever.

“Hey, Lee,” Percy said breathlessly once they separated again, Lee propping himself up until they could lock eyes. “I, uh, kind of have a pretty major crush on you, if you didn’t know already.”

Lee huffed out a laugh, dropping his head on Percy’s shoulder. “No, really? I had no idea.”

“Me either,” Percy said. “Up until about two minutes ago.”

Lee raised his head so he could look down at Percy incredulously, “I—hold up, you had no idea you liked me at all until I asked to kiss you two minutes ago?”

Percy looked away for a moment, his ears pinking just the slightest. “I, look, I’m not the most…observant person in the world, or the most in-tune with my emotions, or…I don’t even know how long I’ve liked you, to tell you the truth. I just—it all seems so clear now, when I look back on everything, that I—well, I think I’m a little pathetically obsessed with you, to be honest. It’s always been you, I just—I just didn’t put it all together until you…”

“Huh,” Lee shook his head with a grin. “I mean, I knew you were a little oblivious about stuff like that, but I thought that just meant other people’s feelings for you, not your feelings for other people.”

The son of Apollo’s face flashed with some sort of realization that had his eyes widening. “Hold up, does this mean if I’d asked to kiss you, like, months ago—”

“I’d have definitely realized it all sooner and we could’ve been together this whole time,” Percy confirmed.

Lee dropped his head back onto Percy’s shoulder with a groan. “I should’ve confessed months ago, fuck.”

Percy’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “Must suck to be the only one of us who actually managed to realize his own feelings without some form of intervention. Speaking of, can I ask how long…”

“Like, a year,” Lee muttered into Percy’s shirt. “I realized last winter after some—some random I-M and booked it all the way to the Aphrodite cabin to blurt out everything to Silena and ask for help.”

“You really weren’t kidding when you said you’d wanted to kiss me for an entire year, then. Damn, I—wait, Silena’s known this whole time?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lee snorted. “Everybody knows, at this point. Even Zoë knew and she never even saw us in the same room as each other.”

“When you say everybody—”

“Literally, like, the entire camp. Even Clarisse said something about it last time she was here. My siblings refer to you as my boyfriend already and I can’t get them to stop. The Stolls have an extensive betting pool set up about who you end up with—it’s rather competitive, I hear, and I also happen to have been informed that I’m one of the top contenders.”

“What the fuck,” Percy whispered.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I was entirely unsubtle and everyone else knew. I think you’re the only person in camp who had no idea I’ve been head over heels for you for an entire year,” Lee laughed, shifting back and removing his face from Percy’s shoulder until he hovered a few inches over Percy’s face again.

“Silena told me last summer that I’d caught a couple people’s interests at camp,” Percy admitted after a moment. “But she wouldn’t tell me who, and I didn’t—I mean, I never thought you…”

“Silena told you people had crushes on you and you never considered for a moment that I might’ve been one of them?” Lee asked, “I—not even once?”

Percy shrugged and looked away, unable to keep Lee’s gaze. “It never occurred to me that you would. I mean, you’re…you, and I’m—I didn’t know what anyone would even see in me, let alone someone like—like you.”

Lee sat up fully at Percy’s words, pursing his lips, and Percy followed him up. There was a flicker of anxiety in his chest, like he’d fucked up somehow and Lee was rethinking everything.

“That’s…Percy, do you really think you’re not that special? That you’re not—not worth anything? You think there aren’t a million different reasons I fell for you?”

“Is this the part where you tell me all the things you like about me?” Percy raised an eyebrow at Lee, who narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“Was that just a ploy to get me to tell you everything I like about you?”

“Just a bonus, really,” Percy said, lips twitching up in a grin.

Lee shook his head, but he was smiling. He reached out, grasping Percy’s hands in his own.

“I like the way you drum out piano melodies with your fingers sometimes, so absentmindedly you likely don’t even realize you’re copying the songs I taught you.” Lee brought Percy’s fingers to his lips, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles.

“I like the way your nose scrunches when you disagree with someone and you’re about to start an argument,” Lee dropped his hands and cradled Percy’s face, pressing a featherlight kiss to the tip of his nose.

“I like the furrow in between your eyebrows when you’re concentrating really hard, and how sometimes you even stick your tongue out of your mouth,” Lee kissed in between his eyebrows and then pecked him on the lips softly.

“I like the way your blush spreads all the way down to your collarbones when you’re really embarrassed, and the way you run your hands through your hair and make it look all windswept.”

Lee ran his thumbs across Percy’s cheekbones. “I like the way you check up on everyone individually after a sword fighting lesson, and the way you make sure everyone has a voice during Capture the Flag planning. The way you sneak people candy when you think they look down or you notice they’re having a bad day, the way you fix Lacy’s armor straps every Friday because she hasn’t learned how to tighten them without fucking up her acrylics. The way you let Annabeth rant at you about Luke even though it hurts you every time she calls him ‘misunderstood,’ the way you protected Tyson from the other campers and made sure Thalia had someone in her corner when she woke up.”

Percy was pretty sure he’d forgotten how to breathe, and yet Lee just kept going.

“I like the way your eyes light up when you go visit Melody and the others, the pure joy in your laugh when you go for a pegasus ride or take a dip in the ocean. I like the passion in your voice when you start talking about sharks, and how once you get going you talk for hours. I like the way you never judge anyone for their parentage—you never let Silena and the others think they’re just pretty faces or that Clarisse and her siblings are only good for fighting or—or that anyone is worth less just because of who their parents are.”

Lee stopped, blue eyes locked onto Percy’s sea-green, and the clear affection shining in them made Percy’s heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest.

“I like a lot of things about you, Percy Jackson. I think, if you let me, I could go on for hours and hours and maybe even days and list out every little thing I find endearing about you. And even then that wouldn’t be enough because I find a new thing to like about you every day.”

“Yeah?” Percy choked out.

“Yeah,” Lee said, and then Percy was kissing him again.

Lee let out a surprised mmph, clearly not having expected the enthusiastic kiss, before sinking into it. 

Percy was smiling when he drew back, cheeks bright red, and his voice was just the slightest bit breathless when he spoke. “So, does this—I mean, are we like…together now?”

Lee hummed thoughtfully, blue eyes flickering over Percy’s face and lingering on his lips. “Percy Jackson, would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend?”

Percy’s heart skipped a beat at the word. 

Boyfriend.

“I can’t think of anything I want more,” Percy said, the word boyfriend still pinballing through his skull and shoving every other possible thought out of the way. “Aside from maybe you kissing me again.”

Lee laughed, bright and loud and warm, and then leaned in to oblige.

“So,” Percy started several minutes later, after numerous slow and easy kisses, the two of them basking in the glow of their newfound relationship. “Tell me about this betting pool.”

Lee snorted, flopping back onto the blanket. Percy, caught in his orbit like the planets around the sun, followed him down. Lee shifted onto his side until they lay facing each other, barely a few inches of space in between their bodies.

Lee linked their fingers together, rubbing a soft thumb over Percy’s and sending a flash of warmth racing up his arm.

“A good amount of the camp is in on it,” Lee told him. “Travis and Connor run everything, keeping track of the bets and the dates and payouts. People can bet pretty much anything—candy and food and money, alliances in Capture the Flag and chore times if they’re a counselor. And they can bet on whatever—who they think you’re gonna get together with, when you’re going to get together with them, who’s going to confess, pretty much anything you can think of relationship wise and they’ve got a bet on it. It’s gotten pretty heated from what I’ve heard—though they don’t tell me a lot since I’m in the pool as one of the major contenders.”

“The fuck,” Percy said. “I knew you guys were hardcore about betting on stuff, but I thought it was generally related to parentage and shit, not romance.”

Lee made a low noise of agreement. “The counselors are typically the ones making bets on parentage, and that’s really only for the particularly difficult to place demigods.”

“Like me,” Percy grinned impishly. “Though how no one figured it out within my first day I have no clue.”

“We were in denial,” Lee defended. “Maybe if you’d been honest about being able to breathe underwater and speak to the pegasi…”

“Mhmm, keep making excuses,” Percy smirked.

Lee pouted and Percy, unable to resist, swooped in to give his boyfriend a peck.

“You’re cute when you’re pouting,” he murmured against Lee’s lips.

“Hhngh,” was the only sound Lee made, and Percy drew back with a satisfied smile.

“The betting pool?” Percy prompted when Lee did little more than stare at him for several long seconds.

“The…right,” Lee cleared his throat, a blush riding high on his cheekbones that made Percy want to kiss him again.

“Uh, the one about you has been going on since the summer, I think. We’ve got some other ones—Connor has a pool for Travis and Katie that his brother doesn’t know about, there’s one for Silena and Beckendorf, uhhh…yeah, it’s fairly common for the more…popular or well-known campers to get a romance pool. Especially when they’re—well, when they have more than a few people trying to get with them.”

“So, who else is in the pool?”

Lee pursed his lips, looking mildly uncomfortable at the reminder that several other people were interested in Percy—not that Percy had eyes for anybody but Lee.

“I don’t know—and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Most of these people have admitted to having crushes on you, but don’t want you to know or would want to tell you themselves.”

Percy let out a sigh, but acquiesced.

“I don’t know people’s bets either, except for Thalia and Silena because they told me on the quest. Thalia bet her whole candy stash we’d get together before the end of the year and Silena bet ten of her dad’s best chocolate boxes one of us would confess after a near-death or otherwise traumatic incident.”

“Huh,” Percy said. “Thalia’ll be pleased, then. Silena…maybe not so much.”

“She was so sure we’d confess after the rescue,” Lee said, “I think she wanted to dunk me in the lake when I said you’d left the party to go to Atlantis and I hadn’t confessed yet.”

“She’ll probably argue that it still counts,” Percy laughed.

“‘Lee would’ve confessed after the rescue if Percy hadn’t almost immediately left and gone to Atlantis for a week, and the confession happened as soon as Percy got back,’” Lee parroted.

Percy burst into a fit of giggles at Lee’s high, mocking tone.

“Mmmm, you know what we could do?” Lee asked, something devious glinting in his eyes.

“What?”

“Since the entire camp is not so patiently waiting for us to get our shit together and being general nuisances about the whole thing, what if we just…don’t tell them?”

“You want to try and keep our relationship secret from literally the entire camp?” Percy asked, the incredulousness clear in his tone.

“It’d be a little funny,” Lee grinned. “Just to see how long we could do it, you know? And it’s a way to get back at everyone for sticking their noses in our business, yeah?”

Percy hummed thoughtfully, unable to deny that the idea had merit. Relationships in the camp were pretty much public business—especially when a couple had only just gotten together. Percy had to admit that he liked the prospect of keeping their budding relationship just between them for a little bit—until they settled into it more and got more comfortable with it and didn’t have to worry about eyes following them everywhere when they were getting used to being boyfriends.

“Plus,” Lee continued, and Percy felt his cheeks pink at the heat in his boyfriend’s eyes. “It might kinda be fun to keep it between us. Just for a little bit. Sneaking around and trying not to get caught.”

“Mmmm, I can see the appeal,” Percy murmured in a low voice. “One problem, though. No way are Silena and the other Aphrodite kids not gonna clock us immediately. It’s kinda their thing.”

“Fuck,” Lee sighed, flopping onto his back and dragging Percy closer with their joined hands.

Percy snorted, curling into Lee’s side and laying his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “What if we only tell the Aphrodite cabin and make them promise not to tell anyone else? They’d understand us wanting to keep it to ourselves for a little bit.”

Lee grinned, turning his head to give Percy a soft kiss. “Okay, so we only tell them. And then we see how long it takes us to slip up and get caught.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Percy said. “Now, what do you say we stop talking about other people and start making a better use of our time?”

“Mmmm, oh yeah? By doing what?” 

Percy’s response—read: kiss—was interrupted by the sound of the conch horn echoing through the valley and signaling lunch.

“Fuck,” Percy groaned, “I don’t think I’ve ever been less happy for lunch.”

“You and me both,” Lee said as he pushed himself to his feet and pulled Percy up with him. “Let’s go pretend to still be pathetically pining after each other.”

Lunch was surprisingly fun—Percy and Lee separated at the edge of the strawberry fields, keeping enough distance between them that no one would make the assumption that they’d finally confessed their feelings and shooting each other secretive glances all throughout lunch.

Percy headed down to the pegasus stables after lunch, wrangling a promise from Lee to join Percy and the Aphrodite cabin for their usual Saturday afternoon spa day so they could spill the beans before Silena figured it out on her own.

Melody was pleased to see Percy at her stable door, nuzzling him softly and demanding that he tell her everything on their ride.

You look cold, little foal, she knickered as Percy brushed her down after riding for over an hour together.

“It’s the middle of winter,” Percy pointed out, but he couldn’t deny that he was shivering even in the magically heated stables. “I’ll go warm myself up as soon as I’m done here,” he amended when Melody caught his jacket between her teeth warningly.

Mhmm, go cuddle with your new boy, little foal. I’m sure he can keep you warm.

Percy sent her a half-hearted glare as she huffed in amusement.

“This is how my trust is repaid? I tell you about my new and secret relationship that literally no one else knows about and you make fun of me for it? Wow, I see how it is.” Percy grumbled to himself but still gave Melody a crisp apple and a handful of sugarcubes. “I’m staying here for the rest of the week, so I’ll be down here every day or so to see you.”

Lee was waiting for him right outside the stable doors, and Percy raised a curious eyebrow.

“Did…did you traipse all the way across camp just so we could walk together to the Aphrodite cabin?”

“I missed you,” Lee said lightly. Percy huffed out a laugh, looking around to check for any witnesses before pressing a quick kiss to Lee’s lips—he just really liked kissing Lee, okay, now that he knew he could and knew he wanted to, and it wasn’t like the son of Apollo was putting up any complaints.

Silena clocked them the second they stepped through the door of the Aphrodite cabin, letting out an unholy shriek that actually had Percy covering his ears.

“I’m getting the feeling she figured it out,” Lee said from over Percy’s shoulder.

“Oh, no shit. What gave it away?” Percy shot back wryly.

“What the fuck, Silena?” Valentina poked her head out from the side door of the sitting room, freezing immediately upon catching sight of Percy and Lee hovering near the door—which they had, thankfully, shut right before Silena unleashed her incredibly accurate rendition of a banshee’s scream.

“Oh, shit. You two finally worked it out, did you?”

Silena lunged forward, grabbing both of them by the arm and dragging them into the spa room at the back of the cabin. 

“Lacy! Drew! Percy and Lee finally got their shit together!”

Lacy—the only other year-round Aphrodite camper—and Drew—who was visiting while school was out—whipped their heads around so fast Percy almost thought they were gonna give themselves whiplash, mouths gaping in shock. Lacy dropped the nail polish she was painting on her feet with little care for the mess, hopping up with a gleeful whoop.

Silena pushed Percy and Lee into two of the salon chairs, dragging over a stool and perching herself on it. The others followed suit, staring at the two of them in unbridled excitement.

“Tell us everything,” Silena demanded.

It took longer than it should’ve, honestly, because every five seconds one of the girls interrupted them to ask a question or make some sort of comment. Silena stopped them at least three times just to pull them into a hug, squeezing them both tightly in pure happiness.

“I’m just so happy for you two,” she said when Percy and Lee finished explaining their entire morning in excruciating detail. “You have no idea how painful it’s been watching you two dance around each other for months.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Percy protested. Silena leveled him with a look.

“Percy, love, from the bottom of my heart…you were that bad. Lee spent half of last summer in the pegasus stables with you when I know for a fact he barely spent an hour in there a week before he met you, and you willingly go to the archery range to watch him shoot under the excuse of ‘it’s a nice place to sit and draw.’”

Percy blushed when Lee turned a raised eyebrow on him. “It is a nice place to sit and draw.”

“Uh huh,” Drew said disbelievingly. “And it has nothing to do with the fact that you think he’s hot when he’s shooting?”

Percy spluttered as he tried to defend himself, “I—that’s—you have no proof—maybe I just like…oh, shut up.” Lee was covering his mouth to hide his laugh, and Percy shoved at him lightly.

“No, no, I’m flattered, really.” Lee put a hand on his chest, grinning like the cat that caught the canary.

“You have no ground to stand on, Lee,” Valentina snorted, “I know for a fact you used to sneak into the arena so you could drool over Percy while he trained.”

Lacy doubled over from the force of her giggles while Lee’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, unable to even defend himself.

“Right,” Silena laughed. “Now that we’ve established that both of you were pathetically pining losers who liked to drool over each other—” She ignored Percy and Lee’s protesting squawks and continued to talk over them, “I’m guessing you’re wanting to keep this under wraps for a little while?”

Percy gave Silena a warm smile at how easily she’d figured it out. “We just want to keep it to ourselves for a little bit—you know how everyone gets when a new relationship starts up.”

“Especially one as heavily bet on as this one,” Lee jumped in. “We won’t get a moment’s peace as soon as people find out. But we knew trying to keep it from you guys was impossible, so…”

“We get it,” Valentina said. “You deserve the chance to get used to this new relationship without the rest of camp breathing down your neck.”

“Your secret’s safe with us,” Lacy grinned. “For as long as it takes one of you to slip up.”

Percy, though he’d been sure that his friends would keep it to themselves, still relaxed at Lacy’s promise. “As thanks,” he said, reaching into the backpack he’d brought with him, “I bring gifts. Amphitrite took me into the markets a couple times and any time I looked at something for longer than five seconds she swooped in and bought it, so…”

Percy dumped out the bag of jewelry and assorted beauty products he’d returned from Atlantis with, having already picked through everything he wanted for himself.

The four girls dove into the pile with identical gasps, fawning over the glittering pieces.

“Oh, those are some of my favorites,” Percy said when Silena plucked up a coral hair clip. “They’re kinda like those mood rings—change color based on your body temp every time you run your hands over them. There’s also a couple of ones that glow when you touch them like the coral in my cabin.”

Percy left his four friends to the pile after making them promise to leave enough for the rest of the cabin and turned back to Lee.

“I, ah, I got you something, too.”

“You brought me something from Atlantis?” Lee asked as Percy dug around in his bag again.

“I thought about giving it to you for your birthday but that’s almost two months away and I didn't want to wait that long,” Percy shrugged like it was no big deal but knew his red cheeks gave him away.

He shoved the small box into Lee’s hands and then stood, mumbling something about nail polish and speeding to the other side of the room.

Lee had opened the box and was still staring down at the gift when Percy got the courage to return to his seat.

“It’s—it’s a heart of the sea pearl,” he explained quietly as Lee carefully picked up the necklace and flipped open the gold seashell shaped locket. A small dark blue pearl sat in the bed of the shell, swirling slowly like the deep currents of the ocean.

Lee ran a finger over the pearl, blinking in shock. “A heartbeat,” he said, referring to the rhythmic pulse the pearl was giving off.

“That’s why they’re called heart of the sea pearls. They—you can—” Percy said, clearing his throat awkwardly. “You can key them to—to specific heartbeats.”

Lee rubbed his thumb over the pearl softly. “This is someone’s heartbeat? Like their current heartbeat?”

“It’s, ah, mine,” Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “I just—Amphitrite told me about them in the market and all I could think about was…was last summer—everytime you reminded me that I was still alive by making me feel my own heartbeat—and I thought…I mean, I just—”

“Repaying the favor, in a way,” Lee said.

“Fuck—it sounds so stupid now,” Percy groaned, burying his head in his hands.

Lee laughed, pulling Percy’s hands away from his face. “It’s sweet—it is,” he assured Percy softly. “I think it’s very sweet, and I’d like to kiss you, so if you could stop hiding in embarrassment—”

Percy felt the heat in his face spread down his neck but obliged, letting Lee pull him in for a short kiss.

“Help me put it on?” Lee murmured against his lips. 

Silena looked up from admiring a glittering rainbow polish to awww at the two of them when Percy carefully clasped the necklace at the back of Lee’s neck.

“You two aren’t going to be able to keep it secret if you can’t keep from doing shit like that every five seconds,” Drew pointed out. “You’ll barely make it through dinner at this point.”

“We’ll manage,” Lee said, tucking the locket under his shirt so it couldn’t be seen. “We only really need to keep it up the rest of the week while you’re here at camp and then it’ll be easy.”

“Exactly,” Percy beamed. “All we’ll need to worry about then is someone listening in on our I-Ms.”

Silena hummed but didn’t look very convinced. “Whatever,” the daughter of Aphrodite said with a grin. “Enough about Percy and Lee’s attempt to be subtle about their new relationship. I, for one, am very interested in trying out this new polish Percy brought.”

Percy leaned forward and plucked up a shimmering golden bottle of nail polish from the cabin’s stash, turning to his boyfriend with a smirk and shaking the bottle teasingly.

Lee sighed and shook his head but offered up his hands with no resistance, knowing better than to try and get out of it. Percy started painting his nails expertly, thinking all the while that he could get used to this whole boyfriend thing.

Chapter Text

Three days into Percy’s stay at camp and he was willing to admit that hiding his relationship with Lee from everyone was…harder than either of them had thought it would be.

All Percy really wanted to do was be with Lee all the time—and maybe share a few kisses and cuddles as well, but…okay, look, now that Percy knew he wanted to kiss Lee and also knew he could kiss Lee…nobody could blame him for wanting to do it as often as he could.

Percy was a tactile person. He liked physical touch—casual hugs and hands running through his hair and holding hands and laying his head on shoulders and leaning up against someone—he just liked it. It grounded him, kept him warm—he was just a tactile person who’d grown up with a mother that gave physical affection as easy as breathing and so now sought it like most people sought oxygen.

Thankfully, Lee didn’t seem to have any complaints with Percy seeking him out as often as possible over the last several days so they could sneak away and just—just be.

Somehow, they’d managed to make it without slipping up, but Percy was beginning to have his doubts about how much longer they could keep it up.

As fun as it was to sneak around camp, holding hands in secret and hiding around corners to trade quick kisses, a part of Percy wanted to just give up on the subterfuge and kiss Lee straight on the lips at dinner one night so they could watch every other camper implode.

The rest of Percy knew that as soon as camp found out, the two of them would lose any modicum of peace they had in figuring things out on their own—their every movement would be dogged, watchful eyes following them on every walk through camp, cataloguing every kiss and laugh and held hands.

So, they kept up with it. They snuck around during every free time, dodging other campers and escaping to somewhere they didn’t have to hide—the stables were a common place, since the pegasi would give Percy a warning if anyone was approaching, and Percy’s own cabin was another, though they mostly just chilled in the seating area on the couches because the concept of hanging out on the bed together made them both blush so hard they couldn’t even look at each other for five minutes.

They’d agreed to meet at cabin three again for free time before dinner—Percy, as a summer only camper, didn’t technically have a schedule for this week and so had just been going with the Aphrodite cabin for most things and splitting off to hang with Lee every time the Apollo cabin had a scheduled free time—and Percy was counting down the minutes as he patiently adjusted Nico’s form one more time.

The son of Hades had bounced up to Percy the night before and all but begged Percy for some pointers on sword fighting.

Percy, face to face with Nico’s pleading eyes, had crumbled—and now he knew how his dad felt every time Percy used the begging face on him.

“So,” Percy started casually. “How’d the conversation with your dad go at the winter solstice?”

Nico shifted on his feet awkwardly, dropping his guard just the slightest. Percy nudged it back up without a word as he waited for a response.

“It was good,” Nico said eventually. “He explained why he hadn’t claimed me yet—how I’d be treated at camp, the danger I’d be in from…from his youngest brother—said I was better off as an unclaimed demigod in the Hermes cabin than a known son of Hades. I guess it doesn’t matter much anyways, even if he had claimed me, I’d still be sleeping on the floor of the Hermes cabin like I am now.”

Percy hummed, walking Nico through a few more drills silently as an idea formed in his mind. 

“Do you…Nico, do you like it here?” Percy asked several minutes later, “I mean, do you want to stay at camp year-round?”

“Not like I have much choice,” Nico muttered bitterly, executing a near perfect thrust on the dummy in front of him.

“But if you did,” Percy continued. “If you had another option—another place to stay—would you…”

“What—like, go to another boarding school?” Nico tilted his head to the side.

“No,” Percy told him. “I just—you could, if you wanted, you could…stay with my mom and I?”

Was it, perhaps, a bad idea to offer for Nico to stay with the two of them without even consulting his mom?

Maybe.

Did he think for a second that Mom would say no?

Not a chance.

If Percy’d adopted Nico within five seconds, he’d bet everything he owned that his mom would do it in half that time.

Nico dropped his practice sword in shock, blinking up at Percy for so long that he was beginning to think he’d made a mistake.

“Are you…you’re not messing with me, right? You’re serious?” Nico’s voice trembled.

“Completely serious,” Percy said. “I—we’re cousins, yeah? And we don’t really have…us Big Three kids have to stick together cause there’s—well, there’s not exactly a lot of us. We look out for each other.”

Nico bit his lip, looking down at his feet. “I’d really like to not sleep on the floor anymore,” was all he said.

Percy grinned, tugging the kid into a quick hug and ruffling his hair—a move that had Nico squawking in protest.

Lee was waiting for him on the porch of cabin three, and he raised a single eyebrow at Percy’s sheepish grin.

“What did you do?” He asked suspiciously as he followed Percy quickly into the cabin.

“One sec,” Percy said, digging in his bag for a drachma. “Need to I-M my mom real quick.”

Percy set up the I-M in seconds, ignoring Lee’s questioning noise.

Sally Jackson was sitting at the kitchen table, her head thrown back in laughter, when the image appeared in the mist.

Percy blinked, caught off guard by the unfamiliar man sitting next to her. He looked around her age, mid length salt-and-pepper hair tucked behind his ears as he joined Percy’s mother in uproarious laughter.

Sally noticed the mist hovering about the table only seconds later, shooting upright in her seat with wide eyes.

“Sally?” The man asked, his own laughter tapering off.

“It’s nothing, Paul,” she assured him, not taking her eyes off of Percy in the mist. “I just…need to go to the bathroom real quick.”

She was out of her seat before Paul could do anything more than blink, speeding down the hallway and locking herself in the bathroom. The I-M, thankfully, fuzzed out briefly before reforming in the bathroom.

“Percy,” his mom said quietly, “I wasn’t—wasn’t expecting your call. Has something happened?”

“Um…I just needed to—to ask you something, but…who—who was that?”

Percy’s mom looked away tellingly, her cheeks pinking slightly. “That’s just Paul—Mr. Blofis. He’s in my writing seminar. We’re working on homework together.”

“Oh, that’s—that’s nice.” Percy shifted on his feet, the wind taken out of his sails at the sight of his mom laughing with some guy in their apartment.

“You said you wanted to ask me something?” Sally prompted.

“Right, yes,” Percy floundered for another moment before biting the bullet—it’s not like his mom would say no. “How would you feel about another child?”

Lee, off to the side, looked at Percy like he’d lost his mind.

“What?” Percy’s mom blinked.

“His name’s Nico,” Percy said. Lee’s face flashed with understanding, and he shook his head incredulously. “He’s—he’s my cousin, but he doesn’t want to stay at camp year-round cause he’ll be all by himself and his dad doesn’t have a cabin so he’s sleeping on the floor of the Hermes cabin and he’s just a kid and he doesn’t have any siblings to look after him anymore since his sister just died and—”

“Perseus.”

Percy stopped, shutting his mouth with an audible clack and peering up at his mom pleadingly.

Sally looked at him, blue eyes unreadable, for several long moments before sighing. “I’ll set up the guest room. How old is he?”

Percy’s shoulders lost some of their tension. “Ten.”

She shook her head with a rueful grin. “I shouldn’t even be surprised. For all of your similarities to your father, you truly are my son.”

“And proud of it,” Percy grinned. “Just wait—I bet you’ll adopt him even quicker than I did.”

Percy’s mom hummed, something like worry flashing in her eyes, and Percy knew she was thinking of the cost of caring for another child.

“Oh, and don’t worry about the money part of it,” Percy said brightly, “I intend to bully his father into paying child support.”

Sally leveled him with a look, like she couldn’t decide between telling him she was proud or telling him to be careful.

“We’ll be home Saturday morning. I’ll let you get back to your…homework,” Percy winked, swiping his hand through the mist before she could do more than narrow her eyes at the insinuation. It may make him a little uncomfortable to know that his mom had a guy over, a guy she seemed to like, but…she’d looked happy with him.

Percy would never not want his mom to do something that made her happy.

“How exactly are you planning on bullying Nico’s father into paying child support?” Lee asked tiredly.

Percy grinned sharply and that seemed to be answer enough for Lee, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly and pulled Percy over to one of the couches, grumbling about boyfriends with death wishes and how he would very much like it if said boyfriend didn’t get himself killed within a week of them getting together.

Percy huffed out a laugh as he settled against Lee’s side, curling into his space heater boyfriend gladly.

“Have you thought about how many monsters you’ll attract?” Lee asked him quietly. “Two children of the Big Three in one place?”

Percy winced, turning sheepish eyes on Lee. “Will you be mad if I tell you it honestly hadn’t occurred to me?”

Lee let out a breath, “I can’t be mad at you when you look like that.”

“Like what?”

Lee tilted Percy’s chin up with a warm hand, placing a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. “So earnest. You’re a good person, Percy, even though sometimes you make me want to bang something against the wall.”

Lee realized what he’d said right as a smirk stretched across Percy’s face.

“Don’t—”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing—”

“Don’t—”

“You can bang me against the wall anytime,” Percy teased.

Lee gave him a distinctly unimpressed look, though the red on his cheeks betrayed him—and he couldn’t even be mad, honestly, he’d walked right into that one. Percy couldn’t be blamed for taking a golden opportunity.

Lee narrowed his eyes, blatant heat flashing through them. He leaned forward, dragging Percy into a kiss with a hand on the back of his neck.

“Don’t tempt me,” Lee breathed against his lips, and Percy would deny the noise he made for the rest of his life.

Percy felt more than saw the satisfied grin on Lee’s lips as he was drawn into another heated kiss, Lee’s nails digging into his scalp just enough to send a shiver down his spine.

Percy was more than a little breathless by the time Lee drew back, thoughtlessly chasing his boyfriend’s lips.

Look, Percy couldn’t be blamed for wanting to kiss his boyfriend all the time. He was a fourteen-year-old boy.

He was a weak fourteen-year-old boy with a very attractive boyfriend—his first ever boyfriend that he liked very much and had known for quite a while before dating.

Lee huffed in amusement, gladly giving Percy one last slow kiss before slumping back on the couch.

“How am I ever supposed to do anything else when you do things like that?” Lee murmured breathlessly, shifting to pull Percy back into his side.

Percy hummed, laying his head on Lee’s shoulder and reaching to lace their fingers together. “I’m not exactly complaining here. You could kiss me every five seconds and I’d probably still think it’s not enough.”

Lee’s fingers tightened their grip momentarily. “You can’t just say things like that,” he muttered.

“Mmmm, and why not?” Percy’s head was perfectly positioned to watch Lee’s throat bob as he swallowed roughly. “I like kissing you and holding your hand and sitting with you like this, and I’d do it every minute of every day if I could.”

A moment of silence, just long enough that Percy began to fear he’d gone too far too fast. His muscles stiffened and he started to raise his head off Lee’s shoulder.

“I just mean—”

“Glad to see we’re on the same page,” Lee said, his arm tightening around Percy’s shoulder and keeping him in place—keeping him from freaking out. “Frankly, I was a little worried that I was being too touchy and you just didn’t want to tell me.”

Percy snorted lightly, “I’m sorry—what about any of my responses to your touches have given you the barest impression that I wasn’t more than happy with it?”

Percy watched the blush form on Lee’s cheeks with satisfaction.

“Nothing,” he said, “I just—I didn’t want to cross a line, and you not say anything because you were worried about ruining things or making them awkward—and don’t tell me that’s not something you’d do.”

Lee gave Percy a look when he tried to protest that had him slumping back down and admitting defeat.

“You have a point there,” he conceded. “But I’m telling you now that you’ve crossed no lines and I’m—I’m more than happy with how things have been going.”

“And you’ll tell me if I ever do cross a line—physical or otherwise?” Lee pressed.

“As long as you do the same,” Percy promised. 

Lee gave the promise easily, and Percy grinned lightly.

“Look at us—communicating maturely and checking in with each other. Silena’d be proud. She always says how important it is to establish boundaries in relationships.”

Lee gave a low hum in agreement, thumb rubbing where their hands were joined, slowly and gently and thoughtlessly.

“In the interest of making my boundaries clear,” Lee said eventually. “I am supremely comfortable with what we’ve done so far, the hand holding and the kissing and the casual touches and stuff like we’re doing right now.”

“I believe this would be called cuddling,” Percy smiled softly.

“And cuddling,” Lee amended. “I like all that, and I am definitely okay with doing it more often—as often as we can, preferably.”

“Ditto,” Percy said. Lee rolled his eyes, flicking him lightly on the cheek.

“Gonna need more than that, Hammerhead.”

Percy hmmphed but obliged, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought carefully.

“I’m good—more than good—with everything we’ve done so far. I’m a pretty tactile person—Mom’s always given physical affection pretty easily so I just…I’m pretty open to most kinds of physical contact, especially with you. I can’t—I mean, I can’t think of anything I wouldn’t be comfortable with.”

Lee’s lips twitched and Percy smacked him in the chest with their joined hands.

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” he huffed. “You know what I meant.”

“Mmmm, do I, though?” Lee teased.

“Oh, fuck you,” Percy grumbled.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” 

Percy groaned, burying his face in Lee’s shoulder as his boyfriend tried to hold back his laughter.

“Quit being mean to me,” he complained into Lee’s shirt.

“Alright, alright,” Lee took pity on him. “Jokes aside, that is something we should talk about while we’re on the subject.”

Percy felt a blush creep back up his face. It was one thing to joke about it—an actual serious discussion about it was another, entirely different, matter.

“Right,” Lee said in the uncomfortable silence. “I’ll go first then, yeah? I, ah, would be interested in—in going farther physically someday, but…but maybe not for a while.”

Percy’s muscles lost their tension, “I—yeah, that’s…I agree with that. Someday.”

“We’ll just go with the flow,” Lee said. “Communicate with each other and do whatever we’re both comfortable with.”

“I like that,” Percy squeezed Lee’s hand softly. Lee chuckled, using their joined hands to tilt Percy’s chin up and giving him a slow, sweet kiss.

The conch signaled dinner soon after that, and they reluctantly rejoined the rest of camp, keeping a respectable distance between each other as they entered the pavilion.

“See you after dinner,” Percy said, unable to hide his lack of enthusiasm—it’d been better when Thalia had been at camp, because they’d been able to yell at each other from their respective lonely tables and nobody had cared. The Demeter cabin, Percy’s only other neighboring table, was nice to talk to on occasion, but it wasn’t the same.

Lee’s eyes narrowed as a contemplative look flashed over his face. “How would you feel about restarting the custody battle between our dads by sitting at my table?”

Percy paused, tilting his head as he thought the idea over. He couldn’t deny it appealed to him—it wasn’t like Apollo would have any issue with it. If anything, the sun god would be undeniably smug about it and take the opportunity to gloat about it to Poseidon. Percy’s father, on the other hand, would almost certainly be ridiculously jealous about the whole thing—Percy could almost see the grumpy pout.

And, most importantly, Percy wouldn’t have to sit alone.

Lee caught the way Percy’s lips twitched up and grinned, interlocking their arms and dragging him over to table seven.

Lee’s siblings were already there, and Will barely glanced up from his plate when Percy and Lee settled across the table from him.

“Hey, Lee, Percy.”

The rest of the Apollo children gave quick greetings as though nothing was out of the ordinary.

Percy could see the moment it clicked for them, all of their heads shooting up at once.

“…Percy?” Kayla asked.

“Hey, Kayla,” Percy said easily, reaching for the brisket and steadfastly ignoring the stunned children of Apollo. Next to him, Lee’s shoulders were shaking with silent laughter.

Austin made several efforts to speak, his mouth opening and closing over and over again.

“Hope you don’t mind me joining you,” Percy said, taking pity on his friends. “Gets awfully lonely at my table. Figured your dad wouldn’t mind if his prophet sat at his table, yeah?”

Silence. And then…

“Fair enough,” Michael sighed. “Pass me the rolls, then.”

Percy grinned, handing the bowl to Michael and picking up his now full dinner plate. Lee followed him, still snickering intermittently at his siblings’ faces. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen them so speechless before,” he wheezed as the two of them approached the brazier. 

Percy chuckled, tossing a cluster of grapes into the fire.

“Hey, Dad, hope you don’t mind me sitting at the Apollo table,” he said casually, ignoring Lee’s choked wheeze from behind him. “It’s just that it’s awfully lonely at table three and I knew Apollo wouldn’t mind.”

Percy never knew a sea breeze could feel grumpy, and yet his father had managed to perfectly convey his emotions regarding the matter.

He slid a roll in next. “Thanks for being chill about me sitting at your table, Apollo, hope my dad doesn’t give you too much grief about it.”

Sunlight danced on the inside of Percy’s eyelids, the heat of the sun blazing along his limbs for a moment. Oh, Apollo was so smug, Percy could tell.

“You’re an instigating little shit, you know that?” Lee muttered, sidling up next to him and tossing two slices of brisket into the flames with a quiet thanks, Dad.

“It was your idea,” Percy retorted, tossing another roll in for Hestia with a silent prayer and then picking up a couple slices of brisket.

“How many sacrifices are you making, dude?” Lee raised an eyebrow.

“Just one more,” Percy grinned, dropping the brisket in the fire. “Uncle Hades, I’ve adopted your child and would like to request child support. I’ll look after him regardless, but I will make sure to complain about you to my father if you don’t and I’m sure you know he can be just as persistently annoying as I can, so…”

Invisible shadows slipped up his legs, sending a chill crawling up his spine in a distinctly annoyed manner.

Hmmm.

Well, Percy hadn’t been smote on the spot, so he was considering that a success.

Lee was still shaking his head when they returned to their seats. “Only you, Perce.”

Percy grinned, and the sight was seemingly enough for the other Apollo kids to decide they didn’t want to know.

They made it all the way to announcements—apparently, they had enough campers at camp for winter break that they could play Capture the Flag on Friday instead of the usual year-round Friday games—before Chiron noticed.

“The laurels are held by Athena and Ares, so please—” A pause. A nearly imperceptible sigh. “Percy Jackson.”

Nearly every camper turned to table three, and he could see the double takes when they saw the empty table.

Every single Apollo kid ducked their head to hide their amusement while Percy blinked innocently up at Chiron.

“Yes, Chiron?”

No less than four kids at the Athena table alone choked on their drinks when Percy’s voice came from the Apollo table, and every single head in the pavilion whipped around to stare at him.

Well, at least he was used to being stared at.

“Have you considered, perhaps, that you may be at the wrong table?”

“Not really, no.” Percy kept up a truly impressive poker face. Up at the head table, Mr. D was smirking into his can of Diet Coke, likely remembering the events of the winter solstice and seeing how this was going to end.

“Perseus,” Chiron sounded impossibly tired of dealing with children.

“I got tired of sitting by myself,” Percy said. “Figured Apollo wouldn’t mind if I sat at his table.”

“You are aware that sitting at a table other than your own parent’s is against the rules?”

“It’s not like Apollo’s gonna smite me for it,” Percy protested. “In fact, I’m positive he’s ridiculously smug about it and he’d likely be offended if you made me move.”

Mr. D snorted so hard he inhaled soda and Chiron sighed in a way Percy knew meant he’d won.

“As I was saying, Athena and Ares hold the laurels, so other cabins make sure to…”

Lee buried his face in Percy’s shoulder to muffle his laughter, and Percy had to press his lips tightly together to keep from losing his straight face.

Next morning found Percy ducking into the pavilion and stopping short at the sight of a familiar face at the Poseidon table.

“Rhode?”

Percy’s sister turned in her seat, smiling warmly at him. “Little brother, heard you were lonely at meals.”

Percy was silent for a total of ten seconds before breaking out into peals of laughter.

“Oh, this is brilliant,” he gasped, collapsing into the seat across from Rhode. “Never could I have ever expected this response, but—ha!—good gods, I can’t even—how jealous was he?”

“Immensely,” Rhode told him wryly, her eyes glimmering with poorly hidden amusement. “The rest of us found it quite hilarious—Triton almost cried he laughed so hard at Father’s face when he first got your prayer. I believe, little brother, that you may be well on your way to overtaking Kym in terms of gray hairs you’ll give him. Don’t tell her I said that though, or she’ll just take it as a challenge.”

Percy grinned, plucking up a pastry. 

Benthesikyme showed up for lunch, and Herophile for dinner—a mistake Poseidon only made once, since Percy was quick to convince the oracle to join him in sitting at Apollo’s table. 

For the rest of the week Percy’s immortal siblings joined him for meals at the Poseidon table. Chiron did little more than sigh with each new appearance, Mr. D seemed to find the whole ordeal amusing, and the rest of camp adjusted eventually to the deities casually keeping Percy company.

Lee found the whole thing uproariously hilarious, though he made a point of pouting after every meal Percy didn’t join him for.

Clarisse slunk into camp Friday morning and Silena was quick to steal her away under the guise of fixing her choppy haircut. Percy slipped into the Aphrodite cabin after them.

“You look like shit,” was the first thing he said.

Clarisse scowled at him. “You don’t look so hot yourself, Sleeping Beauty. Heard you went through it while I was gone.”

“That makes two of us,” Percy snorted, flopping onto the couch opposite the daughter of Ares. Silena rolled her eyes as she snipped at Clarisse’s hair, but didn’t bother telling them to be nice to each other. It was how they showed their care.

“Suppose you know where I’ve been?”

“The Labyrinth,” Percy said.

Clarisse grunted. “Stumbled upon an entrance near my house when I was visiting my mom, told Chiron about it, he wanted me to investigate and see if there was a way to navigate it. Said he was worried about the Titans using it to sneak into camp.”

“He’s right to be worried,” Percy said quietly. “Luke’s already sent scouts. None have made it back yet, but…”

“But?” Silena prompted when Percy trailed off.

He bit his lip, running a finger along the dark lines spreading out from the starburst scar on his palm—the only physical remnant of Luke’s attempt on Percy’s life his first summer.

“Luke won’t stop trying. I haven’t—haven’t seen how it all plays out yet, but he’ll keep sending people, no matter how many get killed. He already…Chris is in there.”

Silena gasped, blue eyes wide with horror. Clarisse stiffened like she’d been stuck with a cattle prod.

“He’s alive,” Percy assured them. “He won’t—it’s not his fate to die down there. He’ll make it out.”

Though he might wish he didn’t.

“That’s good then, right?” Silena smiled shakily.

“Depends on your point of view,” Clarisse said darkly. “The things I saw down there…”

Percy turned away when his two friends looked at him questioningly, unable to hold their gazes. It would give them no comfort to know the state Chris would be in when he emerged from the maze.

The memory of Chris’s screams as he was driven mad had haunted Percy’s dreams all week, and likely would continue to do so.

“Annabeth and I aren’t on speaking terms,” he said eventually. “Don’t suppose Ares wants another ally tonight?”

Clarisse narrowed her eyes at the abrupt subject change. Percy met her gaze evenly, refusing to budge on his decision to keep Chris’s state to himself.

The daughter of Ares was clearly unhappy about it, but she relented, accepting Percy’s alliance in the game that night with a grunt.

“Great, see you two later.”

Percy ducked out of cabin ten, intent on finding Lee so his boyfriend could improve his mood. Halfway to the archery range Annabeth appeared directly in front of him, Yankees cap clutched in one hand.

Percy blinked, taken aback by her seeking him out after a week of stone-cold silence—no, really, she hadn’t so much as looked at him since their conversation at the dock.

“I suppose you’ve already allied with the Ares cabin, then?” She asked icily.

“As a matter of fact—”

Annabeth scoffed. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You really shouldn’t be,” Percy said, in too much of a bad mood to try and be nice. “I mean, you can’t have seriously expected me to ally with you when you haven’t talked to me all week?”

“I’m talking to you now,” Annabeth snapped.

“No, you’re yelling at me now,” Percy said shortly. “Look, I get you’re still mad about me not telling you I was a prophet, but that doesn’t give you an excuse to treat me like shit and expect me to just be okay with it.”

“Gods, you’re such a hypocrite.” Annabeth threw up her hands.

Percy’s shoulders tensed. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Annabeth’s eyes were hard and flinty—her aura lashing out at him in a way it never had before: a cold spear tip against his sternum, rotten olives sour on his tongue, talons digging into his shoulders.

“I mean you were so quick to hate Luke for doing what he did and yet you’ve been lying to all of us the entire time we’ve known you. How are we supposed to trust you anymore? You’re just like him,” she snarled.

Percy reared back like she’d physically struck him.

He stared at Annabeth—Annabeth, who only a week ago had called him her best friend and yet now spat vitriol at him in a way only Gabe had ever done—like he’d never seen her before.

Then, without a word, he stepped around the girl he’d once called a friend and continued up the path.

“That’s right, run away,” Annabeth yelled after him. “Too scared to face me—to admit that I’m right!”

Percy was still trembling when he made it to the archery range, chest tight with rage and pain and grief.

Lee sensed him as he approached, whipping around with concerned eyes.

Percy had no idea what he looked like, but it must’ve been quite bad if how quickly Lee dropped his bow, nocked arrow and all, and rushed over to him were any indication.

“Percy?”

Percy opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it. Closed it.

With every aborted attempt to speak, Lee grew more and more visibly concerned. Slowly, telegraphing his intent clearly and giving Percy every opportunity to move away, Lee placed a cautious hand on Percy’s shoulder, as though fearing he’d crumble under the touch.

Percy let out a choked noise, a sob that got caught in his throat, and then he was collapsing forward into Lee’s chest.

“Oh, hey, hey, you’re alright. You’re alright, just—just—” Lee’s arms were warm as he drew Percy into a tight hug. “Come here, it’s gonna be okay.”

Percy was shaking, fingers twisted in the back of Lee’s shirt.

“I got you,” Lee soothed, taking them down to the ground and settling Percy more firmly against his chest.

Lee ran a hand through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp and murmuring soft reassurances until the worst of Percy’s trembles subsided.

“Talk to me,” Lee whispered. “Tell me what’s happened, Percy, tell me what’s got you like this.”

Percy shook his head from where it was buried in his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Please,” Lee pleaded softly, “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

Percy’s fingers twitched from where they were still curled tightly in Lee’s shirt.

“Annabeth,” was all he could get out.

Lee’s muscles tensed as if a bolt of lightning had shot through his muscles. “What did she do?” Every word was steeped in fury.

“Percy,” Lee pressed, pulling Percy’s face out of his shoulder so Lee could look at him. “Tell me what she did.”

“She—she said I was a hypocrite,” Percy whispered. “Because I di—didn’t tell anyone about…said I couldn’t be trusted, that I—that I was just like him.”

Lee’s eyes blazed with rage, “I’ll kill her.”

He moved to get up, as though he intended to hunt Annabeth down then and there.

“Don’t—” Percy gripped Lee’s wrists, keeping him from making it to his feet. “It’s not worth it.”

“It is,” Lee hissed. “It is worth it—you are worth it, Percy. She can’t just—to compare you to him as though—she had no right.”

Lee was madder than Percy’d ever seen him, every inch of him vibrating with fury, and yet his hands on Percy’s face were achingly gentle. “She’s wrong, Percy.” Lee’s voice was firm. “You are nothing like Luke. Nothing. The fact that she—she fucking—oh, I could just…”

Lee shifted, clearly meaning to get up again, and Percy tightened his grip.

“Don’t,” he begged.

“Percy—”

“Don’t—not right now. Later—you can deal with her later. Just—just stay. Stay with me, please.”

Lee softened immediately at the quiet plea, pulling Percy back into his chest. Percy rested his head on his boyfriend’s shoulder, burying his face in a warm neck.

Lee rubbed his back soothingly, whispering quiet assurances in his ear to drown out the echo of Annabeth’s snarl.

Percy melted into Lee’s touch and let his boyfriend’s calm words erase the sting of Annabeth’s vitriol.

The sound of footsteps crunching through the snow prompted Percy to lift his head. Will stopped in his approach as though hesitant to come any closer, a plate piled high with food in one hand and two of the enchanted pavilion cups in the other.

“Will?” Lee asked, tilting his head questioningly.

“It’s, uh, lunch,” Will said. “We didn’t think you’d want to eat in the pavilion with what happened earlier, so…” He held up the plate and cups.

Percy blinked, only then realizing that all of Lee’s siblings had been at the archery range. Oh, fuck, had they overheard—

“We didn’t eavesdrop,” Will blurted when Percy’s shoulders curled in on themselves in mortification. “We just, ah, the Stolls kind of overheard the whole argument with Annabeth—they were super furious about it—and caught us when we left the archery range to make sure you were good. We told them to keep it to themselves, though, cause we weren’t sure if you wanted it getting spread around. And we won’t tell anyone either.”

Percy relaxed, a thread of warmth running through his chest at the earnestness in Will’s voice.

“Thanks, Will.”

Will beamed, stepping forward and laying down the plate and cups. “It’s nothing, dude. We’ve got your back.” The son of Apollo waved, heading back to the pavilion and leaving Percy and Lee to their lunch.

Percy didn’t feel the slightest bit hungry, but Lee shot him a look that had him choking down a single slice of pizza and a cluster of grapes.

He did not want another of Lee’s lectures about not eating enough food.

“You know,” Percy said, peeling the skin off one of the leftover grapes. “If it weren’t for how horrible this day’s been so far, I’d almost say this was kinda nice. A little romantic picnic with no one else around to bother us.”

Lee hummed around his cup, setting it down and turning to face Percy. “You’re right. This whole thing would be very romantic if it weren’t for how shitty the day’s been.”

Percy cocked his head to the side as he looked around them. If he was remembering correctly, no other cabin had archery for the rest of the day. And it wasn’t likely that Lee’s siblings would come back since they knew Percy and Lee were still there.

Hmmmm.

“Hey, Lee,” Percy waited for his boyfriend to look back over at him, “I think I’ve got an idea for how we can improve our day.”

Lee’s lips twitched up as he caught Percy’s meaning, glancing around to make sure the coast was clear. “I think that can be arranged,” he murmured, leaning in to capture Percy’s lips in a slow kiss.

By the time dinner rolled around, Percy was in a significantly better mood, and both he and Lee were more than ready for Capture the Flag.

Originally, Ares had allied with Apollo, Poseidon, and Hephaestus, with the other cabins—Aphrodite, Dionysus, Demeter, and Hermes—allying with Athena. However, the Stolls, after overhearing what Annabeth had said to Percy, had dropped the Athena cabin and joined the Ares side—they hadn’t even asked for a chore switch or activity trade like they usually did, offering an alliance to Clarisse with no catch or cost.

None of the other cabins understood, but Percy and the Apollo kids caught the meaning loud and clear.

Annabeth was still benched, which Percy knew was the only thing keeping her from a sucker punch to the face courtesy of Lee’s wrath, but she was still devising the strategy for the Athena side. That meant that everyone aware of the confrontation that morning—the entire Apollo cabin, the Stolls, and Percy—was practically chomping at the bit to demolish the other side.

Percy knew nobody on Athena’s side, save for Annabeth herself, was to blame for what had happened, but that didn’t seem to make much of a difference to his friends. They were enraged on his behalf, looking to knock Annabeth down a peg even if it meant bulldozing over a couple of their friends and knocking out a few others in the process.

He couldn’t bring himself to say anything to calm them down.

They were looking out for him—throwing their support behind Percy without a second thought even though most of them, Lee and the Stolls in particular, had known Annabeth for over five years.

“Alright,” Clarisse grunted when the counselors converged on their side of the woods. “We’ve got the advantage in numbers now, thanks to the Hermes cabin switching sides, and Chase’ll have had to rework her entire strategy to account for that. Hopefully, the late change means her new plan won’t be up to her usual standard.”

“If it helps,” Connor piped up. “Her plan before was to spread most of the team out in the area around the flag and then send Trav and I each with a team of her siblings to flank around the edges and nick the flag from the back. I don’t know if she’ll keep that, though, since she knows we know it and she has less people now.”

A defense-oriented strategy, one that expected the other side to take an aggressive offensive stance with little accounting for potential sneak attacks. 

In all fairness, it had been a decent strategy against the Ares cabin in the past, but Clarisse was no slouch when it came to strategy these days, especially since Annabeth had gained a reputation for underhanded tricks.

“She also seemed to expect Clarisse and Percy to lead separate frontal attacks since they’re the heavy hitters on the team,” Travis added.

Clarisse pursed her lips angrily. “She was right about that—that was my plan.”

“And it’s still a good one,” Percy said.

“But she’s expecting it,” Beckendorf said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Exactly,” Lee grinned sharply when he caught on. “I say we do exactly what she expects us to do.”

“It doesn’t matter if she sees it coming or not,” Percy said. “She doesn’t have the numbers to counter it anymore.”

“Especially not if she pulls one of her usual tricks and divides her forces even more to slip around us,” Travis pointed out.

Clarisse narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “We leave enough campers here to defend the flag and take everyone else in two groups to converge on the flag…”

“We could overwhelm them,” Lee finished. “Her own strategy wouldn’t matter because we’d have the brute force.”

Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes, Annabeth’s words from their quest to retrieve the master bolt echoed in his ear.

Maybe, Percy told himself, but that doesn’t mean wisdom always beats strength.

It wasn’t like a game of rock, paper, scissors. Wisdom didn’t overcome strength every time.

Sometimes, pure overwhelming force was enough to take down even the most cunning strategist.

And wouldn’t that just drive Annabeth mad? To know that no matter how well she anticipated and planned for their moves, they won anyway.

Percy shot his boyfriend a glance, catching the knowing look in Lee’s eyes. 

“Oh,” Travis breathed, his eyes lighting up as he put it together too. “Imagine how mad she’ll be once it’s all over, knowing that she predicted our moves, and it still didn’t make a difference.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing,” Beckendorf said, confusion clear in his tone. “Why would you ever want to make Annabeth mad on purpose?”

“This have anything to do with why you switched sides last minute without even asking for anything in return?” Clarisse asked, squinting at the two brothers.

Travis and Connor exchanged an awkward glance before looking away wordlessly. Lee fingered his bow with a scowl while Percy looked down at his feet.

Clarisse and Beckendorf had clearly caught on to the fact that something had gone down that all four of them knew about, if their faces when Percy risked a glance up were any indication.

He sighed, rolling his shoulders back in an effort to loosen them up and work out some of the tension.

“Annabeth and I had a conversation this morning,” Percy told them quietly. “It…didn’t go well.”

Beckendorf frowned, taking in Lee’s deep glare and furious eyes. “That bad?”

“Worse,” Lee’s voice was practically a snarl.

“We overheard it,” Connor said. “She crossed a line.”

“She said I couldn’t be trusted,” Percy explained tightly. “Called me a hypocrite for hating Luke when I spent years lying to everybody, then said I was—that I was just like—like him.”

Beckendorf took an actual step back in shock. Clarisse grew stiff as a board.

“Well, then,” the daughter of Ares growled, “I say we teach the bitch a lesson she won’t forget, yeah?”

Percy cleared his throat roughly, sending her a shaky smile. Lee reached over, intertwining their fingers for a few seconds before letting go.

“We’ll split the Ares and Apollo cabins, half of each going with Jackson and I respectively,” Clarisse decided. “That way we have frontline and distance fighters. Beckendorf, you’ll lead defense here with your siblings and half of the Hermes cabin. Stolls, you two can take the rest and fan out to either side of the flag, just in case she tries one of her sneaky tricks.”

The rest of them nodded, splitting off to tell their cabin members the plan. Percy stuck to Lee’s side, knowing there was no way either of them would agree to being in separate groups.

The conch horn blew several minutes later, and they were off.

The plan went off without a hitch.

Annabeth had tried to pull another one of her clever, complicated strategies, but the move had left her with too few people to stand up against Percy and Clarisse’s combined forces—her intention had likely been to rely on the speed of her strategy, hoping that the defense would hold them off just long enough to eek out a win.

Clarisse had slammed through the entire defensive line with her siblings behind her as Percy converged on the other side of Zeus’s Fist with his own group, crashing through the final defensive line and snatching the flag while Lee and his siblings laid down brutal cover fire.

It was one of the fastest Capture the Flag games in camp history, and one in which the losing team had been nowhere close to victory.

Everyone who knew the events of the morning had a vicious sort of satisfaction gleaming in their eyes, giving Percy silent nods and even the occasional congratulatory slap on the back.

Annabeth was irate, raging at the campers she’d assigned to grab the flag for not moving quick enough. Halfway through her rant, another thought seemed to occur to her, and she whipped around.

Her furious gaze landed on Percy, and apprehension rose in his chest.

This wouldn’t be good.

Annabeth limped forward, and Lee stepped up behind him as she closed the distance.

“You—you—” The daughter of Athena seemed furious beyond words.

Clarisse appeared on Percy’s other side in silent support, and Percy could see the other campers nearby—the other counselors on the Ares team—keeping a close eye on the confrontation.

“You cheater,” Annabeth snarled loudly, stone gray eyes alight with fiery rage.

“Watch it, Chase,” Clarisse warned.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Annabeth turned on Clarisse, who straightened up and clenched her fists.

“Children,” Chiron clopped forward, having noticed the building argument. “That’s enough. The game is over.”

“No,” Annabeth whirled around, pointing accusingly at Percy. “He’s a filthy, lying cheater, Chiron.”

“How do you even cheat at this game?” Percy whispered to Clarisse.

Chiron turned serious eyes on Percy. “That is a serious accusation, Annabeth. How can you be sure?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Annabeth scoffed. “He used his freakish abilities to spy on my plan!”

The entire clearing fell deathly silent.

One moment passed.

Two.

Three.

And then Lee was lunging forward with a furious yell, stopped barely a few feet away from Annabeth by an extremely reluctant looking Beckendorf catching him around the middle and dragging him back.

The clearing dissolved into chaos.

Almost all of Annabeth’s own team had turned against her—the Aphrodite cabin in particular—with only a few of her siblings arguing in her defense, mostly saying that Annabeth had a right to be concerned about how easily Percy could’ve looked into the future and used what he saw to his team’s advantage.

Clarisse took great offense to the insinuation that she needed Percy’s prophetic abilities to devise a winning strategy while the Stoll brothers shouted about how there was no reason to assume Percy would so blatantly break the rules just to win a Capture the Flag game.

Through it all, Percy stood still, staring silently at the girl who’d once promised him that if the gods went to war with each other she’d side with him over her own mother, who’d saved his life more times than he could count, who’d been willing to die in the Underworld so that Percy could save his mom, who’d picked up Percy’s abandoned earring in the snow in the vain hope that she’d be able to return it to him.

Who’d once been his friend.

Freakish.

Freakish.

Freakish.

Annabeth’s voice warped in his ears, twisting into Gabe’s, and suddenly Percy was nine years old again, crumpled report card clutched in trembling hands and cheek still smarting from a stinging backhand, a looming figure above him spitting insults that would seep into his bones and linger for years.

Freakish.

Freak.

Freak freak freak freak.

Freak.

It all ended when a small blur ducked around the arguing campers and whacked Annabeth in the shins with a harsh smack!

Annabeth stumbled back as Nico di Angelo glared up at her, his sword still clutched tightly in his hands from where he’d used the flat of his blade to hit her.

“Quit being mean!”

Annabeth’s knuckles whitened around her cane, and then Percy was there, shoving Nico behind him.

“You touch him and that knee’ll be the least of your problems,” he growled, voice dark in a way that had Annabeth taking a visible step back.

“Enough!” Chiron stomped his hoof on the ground firmly. “Everyone will return to their cabins at once!”

“But—”

“Enough, child.” Chiron had never sounded so stern when addressing Annabeth before, but there was a look in his eyes like even he knew she’d crossed a line. “I will hear no more of these accusations. Everybody return to your cabins.”

Percy’s hands were trembling as he pushed Nico in the direction of the Stolls, grinning shakily as he thanked the kid for defending him and promised to see him in the morning.

The walk back to cabin three was little more than a blur, and Percy hardly had time to change into his pajamas before he heard the faint knock at his door.

Percy didn’t even pretend to be surprised at the sight of his boyfriend standing on the porch, wordlessly swinging the door open enough that Lee could slip inside.

As soon as the door shut, Lee engulfed him in a warm hug that Percy melted into gladly.

“Are you okay?” He asked, running a comforting hand down Percy’s back.

“Better now that you’re here,” Percy murmured, his fingers trembling from where they were clutching Lee’s shirt. “Stay?”

“I shouldn’t,” Lee said reluctantly. “My siblings’ll notice if I don’t come back.”

Percy wilted, not wanting to push but also very much not wanting to be alone in his cabin.

Lee’s arms tightened around him at Percy’s clear disappointment, and he pursed his lips.

“I’ll stay,” Lee said softly.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered.

“I want to. I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing I left you alone after the day we’ve had.”

Percy couldn’t hide his relief, pulling Lee into a short and sweet kiss. “Thank you.”

Lee’s lips twitched up. “Is this gonna become a thing? You kissing me as a thank you? Cause if so...”

Percy rolled his eyes, dragging his boyfriend over to his bed without another word. 

“Less than a week into our relationship and we’re already climbing into bed together,” Lee’s joke was halfhearted at best, but it was still enough to make Percy blush and smack his boyfriend with a pillow.

“Keep making those jokes and you won’t be climbing into my bed again anytime soon,” he threatened.

“I don’t believe you,” Lee smirked, throwing back the covers and making himself comfortable. “You can’t resist me.”

“Mhmm,” Percy climbed onto the bed, hovering over Lee just long enough to make the son of Apollo’s breath hitch before shifting to curl up against his boyfriend’s side.

“That was just rude,” Lee muttered, cheeks dark as he tilted Percy’s head up to pull him into a heated kiss.

“No idea what you mean,” Percy said breathlessly as soon as Lee drew back. “All I did was get into the bed.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Lee murmured, his hand leaving trails of blazing heat from where he ran it up and down the line of Percy’s spine.

Percy couldn’t suppress the shiver, and Lee’s satisfied grin told him it’d been noticed.

They shared one last kiss, long and drawn out and deep, before settling down.

Percy’s sleep was peaceful, no dreams of any type—prophetic or nightmarish or otherwise—plaguing him.

He woke to the rhythmic rise and fall of Lee’s chest under him, the steady beating of his heart beneath Percy’s cheek. 

Lee was already awake, if the warm hand trailing up and down his back was any indication.

“I know you’re awake,” Lee said quietly, voice still rough with sleep.

What…Percy hadn’t even moved—

“Your heartbeat gave you away,” Lee explained, fingertips pausing on Percy’s lower back before beginning their journey back up, the slightest hint of nails scratching along his spine. “Oh, look at that—it just skipped a beat right there. Wonder what that means,” Lee sounded ridiculously smug.

Percy groaned into Lee’s shirt, giving up on any pretense of sleeping and shifting to rest his chin on Lee’s chest so he could glare sleepily at his boyfriend.

Lee was grinning, thumb pressed lightly to the pearl in his locket. “Well, good morning to you, too.”

“Shut up,” Percy huffed. “‘s too early for you to be teasing me.”

Lee was still chuckling when Percy pulled him into a kiss. The son of Apollo was breathless by the time Percy pulled back, sitting up with a pleased smirk.

Gone was the steady rhythm of Lee’s heart, replaced with a racing war drum that pulsed under Percy’s palms, stuttering at the sight of his quirked lips.

“Oh, would you look at that,” he drawled. “Your heart’s all over the place. Wonder what that means.”

Lee narrowed his eyes, but his flushed cheeks and the way his gaze flicked down to Percy’s lips betrayed him.

Lee sat up, hand already reaching to reel Percy back in when a loud knock on the door nearly startled the both of them out of their skin. Lee jerked so hard he slipped right off the edge of the bed and hit the floor with a thud, cursing as he got tangled in the covers still wrapped around his legs.

Percy, recovered from his own shock, was doubled over on the mattress, wheezing from the force of his laughter.

The knock came again, sharp and crisp and echoing through the entire cabin.

“Fuck you,” Lee grumbled. “Just—stop laughing at me—just answer the door.”

Percy had to pause to suppress the last of his giggles before cracking the door open and blinking at the teen standing on his porch.

“Michael?”

Percy heard a barely audible oh, shit from behind him and he cleared his throat loudly. “What are you—uh, why are—”

“Lee never came back to the cabin last night,” Michael Yew rushed out. “He said he was going to go check on you and then he never came back and we have no idea where he is and we’re honestly a little concerned that he snuck into the Athena cabin to murder Annabeth and got taken out by her siblings and—”

“Calm down, Mikey,” Lee came up behind Percy and he moved out of the way so the two brothers could see each other, “I’m here.”

Michael’s eyes flooded with relief. “You’re here, oh, that’s—that’s good, cause we were almost positive you’d committed homicide last night and then gotten murked by the owlheads. But you just—just stayed…”

“I asked him to stay,” Percy cut in, leaning against the door frame. “Didn’t, ah, didn’t really wanna be by myself last night after…everything.”

“Oh,” Michael nodded. “I—yeah, that’s fair. Don’t think I’d want to be alone after…after…”

His eyes narrowed at something over their shoulders before widening comically.

Fuck.

They’d opened the door wide enough that Michael caught a glimpse of the singular unmade bed in the cabin, the two pairs of shoes abandoned at the foot, the covers still crumpled on the ground.

Their simultaneous red faces gave them away, and Michael’s resulting smile was absolutely devious. “You two are—”

Percy cursed as Lee lunged forward, dragging his brother unceremoniously into the cabin and slamming the door shut behind him.

“Not a word,” Lee threatened, “I mean it, Mikey. You tell another soul and I’ll turn your bow into kindling.”

Michael’s face paled at the threat, but he still protested. “Oh, come on, you can’t tell me that you two finally got together and then tell me I can’t even tell anyone.”

“We didn’t tell you,” Percy said dryly. “You peeked into my cabin and figured it out on your own.”

“We don’t want anyone to know yet,” Lee said. “We just—you know how everyone is when two campers get together, and with how competitive the betting pool is…”

“You’d never get a moment’s peace,” Michael finished with a sigh. “Fucking—fine. I won’t tell anyone.”

“The Aphrodite cabin knows if you want to gossip about it that badly,” Percy told him. “They’re sworn to secrecy about it, too.”

Lee let go of his brother’s shirt. “Thanks, Mike. It means a lot, seriously.”

“Whatever,” Michael rolled his eyes. “A word of advice, though, try to avoid sleeping in the same bed if you don’t want people to figure out you’re together.”

He slipped out the door before the two of them could do more than sputter.

“He’s such a little shit,” Lee snorted. “We’re never gonna live that down.”

“Not a chance,” Percy agreed. “You might wanna slip out before we get caught by anyone else.”

Lee sighed but didn’t argue, grabbing his shoes. Their parting kiss turned into two, and then three, and then…

Lee ducked out of cabin three barely five minutes before the conch horn, with red cheeks and messy hair and wrinkled clothes.

Nico appeared at his side as soon as breakfast was over, looking uncharacteristically nervous with his packed bag slung over his shoulder.

Percy said his goodbyes quickly, and it was a good thing he’d kissed Lee goodbye in the cabin because they had to settle for a tight hug out in the pavilion, and then laid a hand on Nico’s shoulder.

“Ready to go, kid?”

Nico bit his lip. “And you’re sure it's okay?”

“I’m sure,” Percy said warmly. “My mom loves you already, promise.”

Percy looked back only once when they reached the crest of Half-Blood Hill, reminding himself that he’d be back before he knew it.

Then he turned back around, spotting the car pulling up to the base of the hill.

Percy smiled, squeezing Nico’s shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go home, kid.”