Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Percy counted out the coins carefully before beaming at the convenience store clerk.  It was very clearly a cyclops, but he figured if he didn’t bring it up, nothing would happen.

The cyclopes grunted.  “Thank you for shopping at Monster Donut.”

He took his prizes and walked out of the store, quick enough to feel more comfortable leaving the nest, but slow enough that his speed didn’t draw the eye.

He ripped open the pack of gum first.  The sugar free mint flavoring was the closest he’d come to brushing his teeth in months, ever since the last time he managed to get enough money at once to stay in a motel for a few nights.  The rest of the food, mostly jerky and some assorted fruit and a very tiny packet of ambrosia, he tucked away.

It was the last of Percy’s ill-gotten golden drachma, but he really only used it for the nests that popped up, so he wasn’t worried.

He checked another pocket of his bag as he walked, shifting the duffle bag to the side and ignoring the clink of metal so he could better dig into the deep recesses of the backpack.  It was a little frayed, but it was also waterproof, so there was no way he was giving it up any time soon.  He dug out the pencil pouch and unzipped it, counting the crumpled bills.  For mortal money, he didn’t keep as many of the coins, because as it turned out, if you picked up every nickel and dime you saw, the weight would add up, and considering he already had an entire duffle bag full of metal to lug around, he didn’t exactly feel like adding more unnecessary weight.  Anyway, he had just under forty dollars.  Not bad.  Could probably get him one cheap, shitty room.  Access to an actual shower with soap and toiletries he could steal should not be passed up.  On the other hand, he didn’t know where he’d find money next, so he’d probably end up spending it on food.

He wove through the streets of the outskirts of Minneapolis, dodging pedestrians and chewing on the gum.  He blew a bubble.  He only had fifteen sticks, he could probably stretch that to four weeks if he was lucky.

“Perseus Jackson!”

He spun, letting his sword meet her claws with a clang.  He smirked reflexively.  “Kelli!  That was shorter than usual.”

She rolled her eyes.  “I couldn’t stand to listen to Serephone bitch anymore.  Cut her into less pieces next time, Jackson, or she’ll take out her complaints on us.”

He cooed.  “Aww, sibling trouble?  Can’t relate.”

She snapped her fingers with a sneer at the screaming pedestrians.  “You forgot to practice.”

He winced.  “In my defense, Silenia gave me another lecture on her lord and savior, Mother of Monsters-”

Kelli groaned, and he barely dodged her fire, absently dousing it with the snowmelt.  “‘Oh Perssseussss, she’ssss wonderful,’” Kelli said with a high pitched hiss, “‘truly it’ssss shameful to hide from the puny mortalsssss!’  Okay, but also consider: they’re annoying.”

He ducked under her claws and swung for her metal leg, but she snorted and kicked with her donkey one, forcing him to pull back.  “No, I hear you.  But also this is my first time in a city in… what’s it been, a month?”

She shrugged and tried to bite him.  “I guess.  That's no excuse to not practice, Percy, what if another clear sighted mortal catches a glimpse of you and calls the cops?  It took you four months to get them off your trail before you figured out the Mist.”

He winced.  “Okay, I will admit, I didn’t do a very good job of convincing Rachel to not call the cops, but that one’s more on the fact that I don’t know how to talk to people when I’m not trying to kill them and less on my inability to manipulate the Mist.  Besides, Rachel’s my friend now!”

Kelli huffed.  “I sure hope so, since you gave her one of my legs.”

“She’s clear sighted!  What if she sees something and they notice and try to kill her?!”

“You’re a bleeding heart!”

“Actually,” he smirked, “there’s not a drop of blood on me!”

He cut off her metal leg at the hip and she rolled her eyes as he propped her up as she slowly turned to dust.

“Why do you even need another leg,” she muttered, “I heard your bag clanking around from here.”

He shrugged with the arm that wasn’t holding her.  “More Monster Donuts have been popping up around here.  I’m pretty sure there’s a demigod around.”

She pouted.  “Aww, no fresh meat for me?  Whatever.  See you in a few weeks?”

He grinned.  “Definitely.  Bye, Kelli!”

She finally crumbled into golden dust and he brushed himself off, sticking his sword back into his belt.  He sighed as the dust seemed to cling to him before swirling some icy cold snowmelt over himself, collecting most of it and leaving him only slightly glittery.

He stretched and chewed his gum for a few more seconds before picking up the celestial bronze leg and propping it on his shoulder.  Kelli’s manipulation was still holding, since no one gave him a second glance, so he took his time looking around before he found a hotel.  He slipped around the back and jimmied the lock to the employee entrance open, cocking his head briefly to ensure he couldn’t hear anyone.  He followed his feelings to locate the boiler room and sighed in the heat.  It might have been March, but the northern states were still fighting off winter, having not gotten the memo that spring was in .  He slipped off his duffle bag and backpack, tucking the backpack closer to the door and opening the duffle bag.

Several bronze blades gleamed up at him and he smiled before carefully digging past them for his hammer.  It used to be a regular mortal hammer, but he’d been gifted one in celestial bronze from one of the kids he’d helped, a boy in Colorado.  He slipped on the garden gloves that were getting a little too tight after the past two years and pressed the leg against the metal of the boiler.

A few hours later, he admired the blade starting to take shape.  It was crude since he wasn't actually forging it, just shaping and cutting the metal like all of his swords, but it was definitely sharp and serviceable.  He almost never got a full leg out of her, so this sword might be a bit too long to put in the bag, but he wrapped the bronze handle with some strips from a thrifted leather jacket he’d long since turned into scraps for his projects.  The rest of the metal scraps he’d shaved off a bit at a time to get the edge got shoved into the side pockets of the duffle bag and he situated himself again.  With the backpack on his back and the duffle bag straps cutting into his shoulders where it sat under the backpack, anyone looking at him might think he was just a backpacker in the scenic area of the Twin Cities as long as they couldn’t see the short sword swinging against his leg.

He slipped out of the hotel with no one the wiser, avoiding the eyes of any mortal that might look his way.  He didn’t want anyone to recognize him.

After all, Percy Jackson, at age twelve, had been missing for four and a half years.

He heard them before he saw them, and the kid was already screaming.

Percy swore under his breath and broke into a sprint, sword already pulled free.

“Hey,” he called as the laestrygonians came into view, “room for one more?”

The cannibal giants immediately turned to him and chuckled.

“Free food,” one cried, “I love it!”

He rotated his wrist.  Kelli hadn’t noticed, but she’d managed to burn him slightly before he could fully dodge it, and he hadn’t noticed until he’d left the boiler room.  Unless it was the boiler room?  He really needed to find some new gloves.  Hopefully the minor pain wouldn’t slow him down.

He swept into battle like a hurricane, cutting two giants down before they could blink, and tossed the longsword to the boy that smelled like the boiler room himself, all warm metal and heat.  “Fight back,” he yelled, “there’s too many for just me!”

The boy, who looked to be a few years older than Percy, looked startled, but then nodded, wrapping his hands around the leather bands Percy had glued down just a few hours ago.  He felt a swell of satisfaction before he focused more fully on the fight.  The problem with going further north as the weather warmed is that there were way more laestrygonians, and they almost always traveled in groups.  Kelli hated them because they were all ugly brutes; her words, but Percy had to agree.

“Wow,” he called when there were only three left, “ugly and stupid.  Good thing I was here to clean up, huh?”

One snarled.  “You reek of empousa.  The life of a blood bag must be difficult if you run away and try to get killed!”

He cut down the last one.  “Nah, I’m good.”

He breathed in the air that still had the crispness of winter and turned to the boy that was heaving for breath.  “Hey there.  You had some nice moves there.”

The boy flushed a little, wiping off sweat and smearing gold dust across his forehead.  “Thanks.  I was sort of just flailing, though.”

Percy shrugged.  “We all start out that way.  But hey, you didn’t die!  Oh shit, that’s blood-”

He moved forward much faster, grabbing onto the boy’s arm and inspecting the scrape.  “What’s your name,” he said idly, concentrating hard on the wound.  Good, nothing nasty had gotten in it, so he could just close it up.

“Um, Jake… Mason?”

He tugged at the blood and made it harden over the scrape.   Jake sucked in a breath and withheld a flinch, which Percy appreciated.  “Nice to meet you.  Okay, try not to open that and let anything get in there.”

“What are you?”

Percy beamed.  “Demigod.  You are too, if monsters were after you.  We smell.  Good luck, don’t die!”

“Wait-”

 But Percy was already slipping out of the alley and into the city proper.  Night was falling and the temperature was quick to follow, so he needed to find another place to hunker down.  He spotted a brightly lit 24 hour laundromat and grinned, stepping into the damp warmth with a sigh.  He glanced up at the security camera and did his best to twist the magic around it.  He wasn’t as good as Kelli would like him to be, but he was good enough to not show up on tape when he didn’t want to.  And in this case, he really didn’t want to.  He pulled the duffle bag onto his lap and leaned his head against his backpack, pulling out the blue blanket he had inside and tucking himself into a corner.  The laundromat was warm and smelled like detergent, so as soon as his eyes shut, he was asleep.

He dreamt of the horse and the eagle again.

“Welcome to camp,” Chiron the centaur said warmly as Jake Mason crossed the border at the top of the hill, the crotchety old satyr wheezing half a step behind him.

Jake stared at everything in amazement.  The satyr, Linus, had told him about this, but to see it was… unreal.

“Hey,” one of the slowly gathering campers called, “he’s got a sword!”

Like a rallying cry, campers started pouring out of the woodworks and Jake took a step back.

“Hey,” a tall blond boy yelled, “don’t crowd him!  Back up, back up…”

“Oh, come off it, Luke,” a girl rolled her eyes, “you’re only chill because you’re probably going to get the story first!”

“Um,” Jake swallowed, “story?”

Chiron tried his best to shoo the campers away with a disappointed stare, but while a few of them shrank back, most stood firm.

“Yes,” a younger blond girl folded her arms, eyeing him, “we want to know about your encounter with the wandering swordsman.”

Jake blinked.  “Oh.  Is he… well known?”

The campers snickered and Jake scratched the back of his head, other hand tightening on the leather hilt.  After the week it had taken to cross the country after Linus had shown up out of the blue, the crude sword had only been used twice, but it fit in his hand now since he hadn’t really wanted to let go, just in case.  “Well… I was getting attacked by laestrygonians, I think they’re called?  I thought for sure I was going to die.  Then this kid appears out of nowhere-”

“Kid,” someone called out, “that means younger.  Pay up, Fletcher!”

“It doesn’t have to mean younger,” a boy argued, “I mean, I’d consider us all kids-”

“He was younger than me,” Jake interrupted, “I mean, probably.  He was at least a foot shorter, anyway.  He threw me this sword and then just started fighting the giants.  Said something about room for one more.  Then after, he saw I’d gotten a huge scrape and he… did something to make it scab over instantly.”

“Apollo,” a girl cried, “I told you!”

“Hey,” another girl barked, “Ares is all about blood!  And no punk who isn’t one of ours is going to survive that long out there!”

“Now now,” a tall brown boy grinned, “we all know that he’s a Hephaestus kid.”

Instantly half the crowd was in an uproar and Chiron sighed.  “Let us get you settled in,” he said kindly, “they do this every time and it never goes anywhere.”

Jake took one last glance at the arguing campers and hurried after the horseman.  “So the kid’s… well known, then.”

Chiron sighed.  “The wandering swordsman… we’ve known about him for almost three years now.  Several of our campers have only made it to camp because they were provided with a weapon, crude though they are.  He has fought many monsters in his time, but we cannot manage to find him.  While it is common for demigods to go on the run, sometimes for years, it is not often that they are on their own, assisting others, and not even attempting to get to camp.  It is always relieving to hear he has helped another, because it means he is still alive.”

Jake bit his lip.  “He’s been out there on his own for three years?  And no one knows anything about him?”

Chiron pursed his lips.  “He’s never given anyone a name, nor does he stick around for the satyrs to find him.  We have one out searching for him specifically, but so far, nothing.  Where did you see him, if I might ask?”

“Oh, uh, Minneapolis.”

“Farther north than usual,” Chiron muttered, “the Athena campers will find that intriguing.”

Jake looked back at the campers who had devolved into wrestling, but most of them were grinning.

He hoped one day he’d see the kid again.

Eleven year old Percy Jackson glanced back and paused, but he still heard the running feet and calls for him to stop, so he took off again.  His backpack was really full and it had some holes in it, so he’d have to get a new one soon.  Luckily, the holes weren’t in places that swords could fall out of, because he only had two extra ones right now.  He patted his hip where the first sword Kelli had helped him make rested.

‘Speaking of Kelli,’ he thought as he looked across the street.

As soon as she made eye contact she grinned evilly, but then her expression faltered.  She must have caught his involuntary wince.

She squinted at him, then mouthed, ‘bad time?’

He nodded, then glanced back the way he came, bouncing on his feet.  ‘Cops.’

She grimaced, then looked at her companions, saying something he couldn’t make out.  Tammi was looking between the two of them, flabbergasted, but Lacey just rolled her eyes at the junior empousa.  Kelli sent him a triumphant grin and shooed him down the street.  He blinked, but went to the indicated bus stop, tucking himself inside.  He heard Kelli’s fingers snap over the traffic and stood stock still.

“Damn,” one of the police officers sounded close, “we lost him.  Call in it, that’s a bust.”

“No way,” another one protested, “he can’t have gotten far!  This kid’s been just out of reach for hours, and we’re going to give up because he can blend into a crowd?”

“Someone will call in with a tip,” the first officer affirmed, “and everyone else is keeping an eye out.  We have his description and what he’s wearing, he can’t get far.”

Percy tensed and shrugged his hoodie off, shoving it in his overfull backpack and ignoring how he shivered.  It was only September, he’d be fine.  He waited a few more minutes for the cops to really be gone before he stood up and made his way to the crosswalk, looking around.

Kelli was waiting for him on the other side and he looked up at her in trepidation.

“Are we gonna fight?  Because I’ve been running for hours and I’m really tired-”

“We’re not going to fight,” Kelli said, ignoring Tammi’s noise of protest, “what the hell happened?  And why are you in Hershey, I thought you said you were going to avoid major cities for a while?”

He shrugged.  “There was this girl that I thought might have been a demigod but she, um, she called the cops on me when I offered her a sword.  Turns out she’s also… rich?  So they took it way more seriously than the cops usually do.  And then they recognized me from the Amber Alert.”

Kelli wrinkled her nose.  “Still?  It’s been like three years, don’t you humans like, grow, or whatever?”

He shrugged.  “I probably haven't gotten that much taller, I’m going to be honest.”  Mostly due to the lack of solid meals.

Kelli sighed.  “Well, I don’t want to fight you right now, we were invited to this party in two days and I really want to go.  Come on.”

He stepped in beside her, ignoring Lacey slapping Tammi’s reaching clawed hand down as they walked down the streets.  “I was at Hershey Park,” he said sheepishly, “just to see.”

She hummed.  “Looking for chocolate?”

“Something blue,” he muttered.

She glanced at him, but looked away.  It was about that time of year, anyway.  “Whatever,” she said, “now you’re gonna want to pay attention because I’m not gonna do this more than twice.  But.  You know the Mist right?”

He cocked his head.  “You said it’s why mortals don’t freak out when a monster tries to rip my guts out in public.”

She snorted.  “Yeah, that.  That snapping thing I did?  That was manipulating the Mist.  Made people’s eyes just gloss right over you like you’re cherry flavored.”

He stared at her and she rolled her eyes.  “Lip gloss, Percy.”

He blinked.  “Oh, right.  Sorry I haven’t tried out any of your make up suggestions, I was saving my money for food.”

She snickered at the sarcasm.  “Just drink blood like we do.  I promise you, demigod flesh is delicious.”

“Ew, cannibalism.”

“You never give me makeup tips,” Tammi pouted, blinking wide blue eyes up at Kelli.  The lead empousa raised an eyebrow.

“Um, no,” she said slowly, “because you have the charmspeak.  If Percy wants to manipulate people, he’ll need to do it the old fashioned way.  Besides, you already have decent makeup.”

Tammi seemed to forget that there was a demigod right in front of her, beaming at the praise from her mentor.  “Better than Percy?”

Percy smiled at her.  “For sure.”

Lacey giggled.  “Oh, there’s a smoothie place down the road that Brad says has awesome reviews!  We should like, totally go!”

Kelli hummed.  “Sure.”

Percy pivoted to follow Lacey as she hummed her way down the street, skirt swaying with her steps.  People of all ages were staring at the three admittedly beautiful girls, but they obviously couldn't see the lower half of their bodies, the metal legs clanking and the hooves clopping with every step.  “Who’s Brad?”

“The newest fuckboy,” Kelli said breezily, “he’s hooking up with like, seven girls without them knowing.”

“What an asshole.”

She grinned and ruffled his hair.  “He’ll be dead by Saturday.”

When Percy was eight and had just ran away, the idea of murder probably would have alarmed him more, but after three years of being hunted across the country by monsters and mortals alike, he didn't mind.  The only mortals the empousai went after these days were dicks anyway, the kind of people who would have fit right in with Smelly Gabe.  As for demigods, Kelli didn’t really try unless it was Percy.  He’d personally slighted her by killing her over and over, apparently, so she kept trying to get revenge.

They entered the smoothie shop and Percy dug around for his pouch of mortal money before a warm hand stopped him.  He looked up at Lacey and saw her smile.  “I got it!”

They sat at a table with their smoothies, and Percy cautiously took his bag off to be set at his feet.

“You’re not going to try and kill me out of the blue, are you?”

Tammi perked up, but Kelli waved him off.  “No, not today.  We’ll schedule a rematch for next week, mmkay?”

He grinned and took another sip.  “I’m sure I can find a spot in my very busy schedule to pencil it in.”

She smirked.  “Right.  Well, back to the Mist.  Demigods can manipulate it too.  Not as much as us, of course, because we’re champions of Lady Hecate, but with enough practice and willpower, you can twist it to your advantage too.”

He perked up.  “Like I twist blood!”

She leaned over to ruffle his hair again and he swatted her hand in protest.  “Exactly,” she showed off her fangs in a wide grin, “like you can twist blood.  How’s that going, by the way?”

He slurped at his rapidly dwindling smoothie and sighed at it a little despondently.  “I saw Silenia again last week, and she was willing to let me test it.  She still managed to bite me, but I got the venom out before it could do more than make me woozy.”

Kelli frowned and looked at Lacey.  “Like, you got the venom out of the blood?”

He nodded.

Lacey tapped her lip.  “Were you moving the blood with the venom, or just the venom?”

He thought back to the hazy memory before frowning.  Now that she mentioned it… “Maybe the venom?”

Lacey’s eyes glittered and she clapped her hands.  “How excellent!  We should find you a manticore, see if you can move that poison too!”

He grimaced.  The only time he’d seen a manticore, it had been pretty difficult to get away with his life, and that one had been a baby.  Granted, he’d been nine, so he was kind of a baby too, but still.  “Would you be teaming up with or against the manticore?  Because I hate to say it but I think a manticore on its own could take me out.”

Kelli sneered.  “Of course, you’re like, six.”

“I’m eleven.”

“You shouldn’t have ever gotten past eight,” Tammi grumbled.  Kelli patted her protege on the back.

“Or we could find a hydra,” Kelli shrugged, “they’re pretty venomous.  We’ll even sear the necks for you.  The first few, I mean.”

“We will?!”

Lacey ignored Tammi, nodding.  “We’ll leave you a few heads,” she reassured him, “because like, the adrenaline will help.  And we can always cut off the other ones to give the poor thing more heads later, so it has a better shot.”

Percy winced internally.  Not only did fighting a hydra sound like a terrible idea, but of course they wanted it to be back to fighting shape later.

“On second thought,” Kelli pouted, “maybe not.  Once hydra’s get big enough, they’ll eat anything, and I’m way too cute to get eaten.”

Lacey’s face fell.  “But the babies are so cute…”

Tammi huffed.  “I still think we should let him fight it on his own.”

“Ew, no, he’d die.”

Percy scowled.  “Thanks, Kelli.”

She shrugged.  “You’re adorable if you think you can take on even a baby hydra at your age, Jackson.  You do know they spawn with nine heads, right?”

He grimaced.  “How big is a baby?”

Lacey shrugged.  “The newborns are maybe… the size of a dracaena?  They grow fast though!”

Her smile was attempting to be reassuring, which didn’t match at all what she was saying, but Lacey had always been enthusiastic about deadly things that shouldn’t be made into pets.  It was how they’d bonded initially, since Bean had shown up when they first met.

“We’ll think about it before next week,” Kelli said, “are you planning on sticking around?”

He thought for a second, then remembered the cops.  “Probably not,” he grimaced, “but I think I’m going to head south.  I can be in northern Virginia next week, though?”

Kelli thought it out in her head, a long red nail tracing an imaginary map on the table.  “Sure.  Winchester?”

He frowned.  “Probably going to try and follow the Potomac down to Chesapeake Bay.  I’ll stick to the Virginia side, and if I get to the estuary, I’ll stop and wait for you.”

“Aww, but we made such memories in Winchester!”

“You burned my eyebrows off,” he deadpanned.

Kelli clicked her tongue.  “They grew back.”

“Thank Hecate,” Tammi shuddered, “you looked so not cute.”

Percy shrugged.  “How long until the cops see me again?”

Kelli smirked, showing off her fangs.  “Oh, now.”

He stiffened in his seat and glanced worriedly out the window.  Kelli shrugged.  “Better hope you’re a fast learner” she taunted, “or you’ll get caught real quick, and then you’ll be a sitting duck for anyone who wants to eat you.”

He swallowed, glancing out the window for any signs that someone had noticed him.  “But not you, right?”  He sounded nervous even to his own ears.  “I mean, where would be the fun in that?  The challenge?  The satisfaction?”

Kelli leaned across the table to pat his cheek.  “You’re going to be a heartbreaker in a few years,” she cooed, “now get out of here.  The cashier already called in the tip two minutes ago.”

He scrambled to his feet, grabbing his backpack.  “And you couldn’t have told me that two minutes ago?!”

She shrugged, sipping her smoothie while Lacey giggled behind her hand and Tammi snickered at him.

“Have fun at your party,” he said sarcastically as he booked it out the door, ignoring the calls to stop.

“We will!”

He got two streets away before a cop spotted him and he tried snapping his fingers a few times, but Kelli’s brief explanation had apparently not been enough.

“Di immortales,” he swore, and he kept running.

Kelli held up his latest dagger.  “I can’t believe this used to be my foot.”

Percy sighed.  “You’ve seen a dozen of my weapons.  They have to all look the same by now.”

She rolled her eyes.  “They come from my leg, I can look at them if I want to.”

He threw the stick for Bean again and he bounded after it.  Percy’s throwing arm was really good after all this time, but no matter how far he got it, it only took the hellhound a few bounds to grab the stick and come prancing back, tail wagging.

“You know,” she said suddenly, “I don’t think I ever told you why I kept coming back for you.”

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes, suspicious.  “Pretty sure you did.  Because I killed you.”

She waved her hand.  “Yes and no.  Did you know,” she smirked at him, “you were the first hero to kill me in over a thousand years?”

He startled.  “What?”

She nodded sagely, looking back at the valley they were sitting over.  “Yep.  So like, naturally I had to see if it was a fluke.  So I went back to you to challenge you again.  Turns out, it was.”

“Hey!”

She snickered.  “I’m right.  Baby you shouldn’t have been able to get the drop on me like that.  I put it down to not being able to see you.”

He was gaping and she giggled.  “You were tiny, Jackson, you can’t even deny it.”

Percy rolled his eyes and threw the stick again.

“But,” he frowned suddenly, “if you were so much better than me, why didn’t you kill me the second time we met?”

She shrugged.  “I might be a monster, but I only go after demigods who actively try to ruin my hair or my lair.  Imagine, you’re minding your own business, planning to drain some idiots dry and make out with some other idiots, and this tiny, pint sized hero freaks out because he’s too young to effectively be charmed and he accidentally skewers you with his too-big sword in his random flailing.  It was mortifying!   So obviously I had to fix that.”

“By… dying over and over?”

She grinned.  “I was pretty proud of being undefeated for so long.  I had to train you up, make sure you could beat everyone and not just me.  And you grew on me after a while.  You’re adorable, and one day you’re going to be like, so hot.  It’s not like you would actively seek monsters out, either.  If we leave you alone, you leave us alone.  It just so happens that to most of us you smell pretty good.”

He huffed.  “So you… don’t want to drain my blood?”

She smirked.  “Not yet.”

“Oh, awesome, I’m counting down the days.”

“You have at least another two years before Tammi starts realizing you’re hot.”

“Tammi hates me!”

Kelli snickered.  “I mean, she is supposed to be my trainee.  Right now that just means following you around and trying to kill you.  Oh, she does actually try by the way.  You’re paying it forward by training her too.”

“Amazing.”

They sat in silence for a moment, enjoying the nice May weather.

“So,” Kelli said slowly, and Percy groaned.

“Hey,” she snarled, “I haven’t even said anything yet!”

“You have that cajoling tone where you think you have a great idea,” he accused, “and that means you’re about to make a terrible suggestion!”

She stared at him, offended.  “When have I ever had a terrible suggestion?”

“The Rhode Island party.”

She sputtered.  “That wasn’t my fault!  Serephone’s the one who fucked that one up, we had Rachel’s dad fucking cornered!”

“You almost drowned an entire boat of people!”

She scoffed.  “It wasn’t that bad.”

“I could tell that yacht was holding on by thoughts and prayers,” he snorted, “I’m surprised we made it back to port.”

“Maybe if you’d figured out how to move the alcohol faster-”

“It was the first time I’d tried moving booze!”

She rolled her eyes.  “Fine.  Maybe that was a bad idea.  But that’s once!”

“Gatorland.”

She snorted.  “That harpy definitely deserved it.  How couldn’t it smell the alligator on its ass?”

“Salt Lake.”

“The exorcism was not my fault!  And the bison threw me off!”

“Cincinnati.”

She paused.  “Okay,” she snickered, “I forgot about Cincinnati.”

Percy waved his hand.  “There we go.  And all of those times you had that exact same tone.  What am I supposed to think?”

“This one’s a good idea,” Kelli protested, “and I mean a really good idea!  Once in a lifetime opportunity here!”

Percy sighed, scratching Bean behind the ears for a moment before hurling the slobbery stick again.  “Alright, I know you’re not going to let this go until you tell me,” he groaned, “so lay it on me.”

“I think you should go visit your mom.”

He sat straight up and turned to her with a deadly expression.  “Excuse me?!”

She put her hands up, eyeing where his hand had a white knuckled grip on his sword.  Bean came back and growled, crushing the stick between his jaws, and Percy shifted slightly to keep the hellhound in sight.

“It’s not a threat,” Kelli said slowly, trying to placate him, “like, why would I bother?  I just mean that the gods are super distracted.  There’s no better time to go back to New York than now.”

Percy slowly untensed, Bean calming down as he did, but he eyed the hellhound warily anyway.  If Bean decided that playtime was over, he had to be fast on the draw.  The last time he hadn’t expected the attack… well, he still had the raised lines on his shoulder, even if they counted as an old scar at this point.

“The gods have been distracted ever since New Years,” he grumbled, “and that was five months ago.  Why now?”

She spared a single glance for the hellhound before focusing on him again.  “They’re getting worse.  I bet you could walk right up to the Empire State and they wouldn’t notice you.  Probably.  But all that godly energy might mask your scent as well.  I mean, you already pretty much smell like me because you have multiples of my leg, but still.  It’s been four years, Perce.  I don't want you to get mopey in October again this year, okay?  Which means seeing her.  And killing that dick if he’s still around.”

Percy flinched slightly at the mention of Gabe.  It had been four years, but that didn’t matter.

“What if she doesn’t want to see me?”

Kelli looked at him askance, having caught his whisper even if he hadn’t really meant to say it.  “Perseus Jackson, has every story you told me about your mom been a lie?’

“…No.”

“Then she’ll want to see you,” the vampire scoffed, “she sounds like a fucking saint.  Not the Catholic kind, the metaphorical kind.  The good kind.”

He fiddled with Bean’s ear, which the dog allowed.  “What if she moved?”

“Don’t mortals have ways of finding each other?”

He scrunched up his nose.  “How should I know?”

She blew her bangs out of her face.  “Then just wander around for a few days.  I bet with your luck you’ll find… something.”

He slowly shook his head, even as his heart panged.  “It’s too risky.  You know that monsters like big cities more.  And you already said I’m getting stronger.”

Kelli beamed with pride for half a second before her face fell into a disinterested sneer she’d long since perfected.  “Duh.  Ugh, fine.  Don’t then.  But you can’t be a mopey bitch in October.”

He cracked half a smile and stood, sensing Bean was getting restless.  “Deal.”

Kelli also got up, stretching as she walked away to lean against a rock.  “Go on, murder your dog again.”

Percy rolled his eyes, keeping his gaze on where Bean was shaking himself out.  “He’s just not fully… house trained yet.”

Bean’s glowing red eyes locked onto Percy and his lips peeled back in a snarl even as his tail was wagging still, and Percy’s hand flexed on his sword.

“House trained,” Kelli snorted and muttered under her breath, “you haven’t lived in a house in years and haven’t squatted in one in months.”

Percy briefly considered hitting her with the evil warding sign, but in that moment Bean leapt and he slashed through the air.

“Aww, good boy,” he cooed, “you almost got me!”

Bean huffed as he dissolved into dust, tail still wagging fiercely.

“You’re a fucking weirdo,” Kelli snorted, and then they turned to their own fight.

Percy shivered and huddled further under the drooping awning.  The shop was abandoned, tucked in a back Chicago alley, but it was too boarded up for Percy to consider trying to break in and he couldn’t see two feet in front of him with the downpour.  He huddled further under the awning and tried not to let the chill get to him.  He swallowed and his neck twinged from the massive handprint shaped bruise.

He clutched the glowing bronze sword, knuckles white from the grip.  His heart still pounded in his chest even though it had been over an hour since he’d… since he’d killed those two.  He thanked whatever must have been watching over him that they’d decided to play with him before eating him, letting him grab a sword to “give him a fighting chance” and “make it more fair.”  Well, joke was on them; he might have gotten lucky, but they were still the ones who’d turned to dust in the end.  He didn’t know why they hadn’t left corpses like things were supposed to when you killed them, but he wasn’t complaining if it got rid of the smell.

He heard a growl and his head snapped up.  When had he lowered his gaze?  He swallowed again, but couldn’t feel the bruise over his pulse.

“Um,” he croaked, “nice doggy?”

He quickly looked around for something that wasn’t a sword.  It was different when things were actively trying to kill him, but this was just a stray dog, he didn’t want to slice it in half.  He didn’t want to kill anything, and if he’d known that running away from Smelly Gabe would have put him on this path, he might have been willing to stick around.  Maybe.  He noticed one of the boards on the shop door was hanging on by a single rusted nail and carefully propped the sword against the side of the building before ripping off the board.  The growling stopped.

He took a deep breath.  “Okay,” he said, “go fetch!”

He tossed the board into the gloom, quickly losing it, but if he squinted, he could see a dark shape hesitate for a moment before bounding after it, and he breathed a sigh of relief. He really  didn’t want to kill anything else.

He opened his backpack and took out the beef jerky he’d stolen back in Toledo as he’d made his way west. He was glad that the two… creatures hadn’t destroyed his bag, even if it only had a few good supplies in it.  It barely had anything that’d he’d left New York with just over two weeks ago, but it was the backpack his mom had gotten for him to celebrate going to a new school and it had a few packaged snacks.  He’d run out of money two days in, and most of his clothes were gross.  He briefly thought he could wash them in the rain that was still coming down in torrents, but he was a little shaky and he didn’t want his clothes to literally wash away.  He mechanically chewed the jerky when a shape loomed out of the dark and he flinched back.

The wooden board clattered to the ground at his feet, a foot or so outside the awning’s reach.

He stared at the dark shape.  This dog was as big as he was.  It boofed at him.

He slowly reached out a hand for the board and the dog growled.  He pulled back.  The dog whined.

“Okay,” he said in a huff, “I can’t take the board if you don’t let me take the board.”

He slowly reached out again but the dog growled, so he retreated again.  The dog whined again.

“No,” Percy said sternly, “let’s try this again.  If you want to play fetch,” the shadowy outline of the dog visibly perked up at that word, “then I need the board.”

He reached for the board one more time and the dog stayed frozen.  Very slowly, he grabbed the board and picked it up.  The dog didn’t move and didn’t growl.

“Good dog,” Percy said shakily, “okay, now.  Fetch!”

He threw the board again and heard it clatter.  It hadn’t really gone all that far, but the dog shape disappeared again.

He ate some more jerky, staring with wide eyes into the downpour, and brushed his soaked hair away from his forehead.  He was dripping, since the dog hadn’t come any closer.

The dog brought back the board.

Percy eventually got the dog to stop even the initial growling, praising them every time he could pick up the board, and slowly relaxed as he played fetch for probably a good ten minutes before the dog visibly started getting agitated.

“I’m going to name you Bean,” Percy declared, “because Chicago has that bean thing.  And I’m too tired to think of anything else about Chicago other than the fact that it’s really rainy right now and it snows a lot in the winter.  And the pads of your feet are called toe beans.  So yeah.”

The dog shifted again and when Percy reached out for the board, growled.  He flinched back.

“Bean?  I can try to think of another name if you-”

The dog snarled and leapt at him.

He had only a moment to see the dog’s glowing red eyes before he grabbed the sword and swung wildly, feeling it connect.  The dog yelped in pain and his breath hitched and tears welled up in his eyes, but not enough to not see the dog dissolve into more of that golden dust.

He sobbed for a few minutes, shaking under the awning.

“I really really hope this isn’t a magic sword that turns things into dust,” he mumbled to himself.

As the rain let up and the clouds parted to reveal the moon, Percy thought about the things he’d turned to dust already and shuddered.

First, don’t trust the men with one eye.

Second, avoid the big dogs with red eyes.

Third… never let go of the sword.

His eyes slipped closed and he fell into an uneasy sleep.

“YOU!”

Percy’s head perked up and he grinned wide.  “Gleeson!  It’s been so long!”

The satyr waved his cudgel.  “Come down here, monster spawn, and face me like a man!”

He snickered from the top of the wall, waving at the little girl who was with the satyr.  “No can do, Coach.  Who’s the girl?”

“Don’t even think about trying to eat her!”

The girl squeaked and Percy sighed.  “Hedge, we’ve had this conversation a thousand times.  I’m not actually a monster, I just smell like one because I have many monster parts on me.  Have you ever seen a male empousa?”

“First time for everything, cupcake!”

He rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling as he fully looked at the girl.  She smelled like a sweet fruit perfume, but she was far enough away that he couldn’t pick out which fruit or fruits.  “Hi there.  Did Coach manage to scrounge up a weapon for you?”

“ARE YOU SAYING I CAN’T PROTECT ONE-”

She looked between the two of them with wide eyes and he mentally placed her age at maybe nine.  Maybe.  He pulled his duffle bag around and unzipped it, eyeing her critically.  The perfumy kids usually did better with smaller or long range weapons, but he’d never been able to make a bow, and his one attempt at a spear had been… lackluster at best.  His eyes fell on one other experimental weapon and he hummed, but then took them out anyway, tossing them at her feet.

“Try that,” he suggested, “I’m not sure how well they’ll work for you, but they’re pretty sharp.  What’s your name?”

“Don’t tell him,” Gleeson insisted, “who knows what he’ll do with it?!”

The girl eyed him, but then looked back at Percy.  “Lacy.”

He blinked.  “With an e?”

“Um, no.”

He hummed.  “I have a friend who’s Lacey with an e.  Neat.  Nice to meet you, Lacy.  Remember, stick the business end of those in any monster that tries to eat you.  Coach Hedge is a pretty good protector, so they probably won’t get close, but just in case, you know?”

She inspected the weapon for a moment sliding them on, the metal covering just past her knuckles.  She flexed her fingers and they clinked, the slightly jagged claws catching the light.  She looked up at him with an awed expression and he grinned.

“I hope they work well for you,” he almost sounded bashful, gosh, “but they were a bit experimental, so…  Good luck!”

“GET BACK HERE YOU MONSTER SPAWN-”

“Not today, Coach,” he laughed back, “maybe you’ll get me next time!”

“Persssseusssssss!”

Percy was torn between wincing and perking up and settled on making some sort of face.  Silenia didn’t seem to mind as she slithered over on her two tails… legs?  Percy had never asked and he wasn’t planning on it.

The eight year old swallowed.  “Are you… going to try to kill me?”

The snake lady’s tongue flicked out as she blinked in bewilderment.  “No?  Oh, isssss thisss becaussse I attacked you lasssst time?  Forgive me, Persssseussssss, I wasssss very hungry.  But you are ssssstrong!  And if you do not attack me, I won’t attack you either.  Unlessssss you want me to?”

He shook his head rapidly.  They’d only met twice, but any monster he didn’t have to fight was good in his books.

She beamed in pride.  “You’re a very nicsssssse godling!  Almost as nicsssssse as our Lady Echidna!”

His nose wrinkled.  “The… anteater?”

“NO,” the dracaena screeched, “DO NOT SSSSSSSAY SSSSSSSUCH THINGSSSSSSSSS!  BLASSSSSPHEMER!”

She lunged at him, incensed, and he scrambled to draw his sword.  “I thought we weren’t fighting?!  What happened to not fighting?!”

“NO ONE INSSSSSSULTSSSSSS MY MISSSSSTRESSSSSSS AND GETSSSSSSSS AWAY WITH IT!  NO ONE!”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know!”

(The third time they met, he wondered if suffering through her long lecture on her Lord and Savior, Lady Echidna, Mother of Monsters, was a better or worse fate than just fighting her.  With each meeting, he realized that it depended on how well rested he was.  Silenia didn’t mind if he fell asleep while she was lecturing.)

He stood on the beach, facing the sea.

He felt like crying, avoiding looking back to see the pastel walls of the small cabin, sticking out of the sand and looking sea-worn.  It’d been years since he’d been here.  The water was cold as it brushed his bare toes, but each little kiss of the waves that seemed to stretch to touch him was like a spark that traveled right up his spine.

He took a shuddering breath and spun on his heel, picking up his duffle bag and backpack, his scraggly shoes tied to the backpack and swinging with every step, threatening to expel the socks he’d stuffed inside.  With muscle memory, he reached under the rickety step into the little divot made by where the wood slats met the supports and brushed past cobwebs and sand to touch the cool metal of the key.  He told himself his fingers didn’t shake as he fit it into the lock and quietly clicked the door open.

He set his bags down on the table after giving it a bare minimum wipe and cracked his knuckles.  There were old cleaning supplies under the sink and he was also fairly adept at moving both them and the water around, picking up sand and dust and spiders until the cabin was cleaner.  He hesitated at the bed, but in the end left the old sheets on.  Were they full of sand?  Undoubtedly.  But he didn’t think he could stomach sleeping on that bed.

He opened the closet and found the faded blue and purple quilt they’d left there when he was five.  He pulled it out and wrapped it around himself, sitting on the couch in the fading evening light.  He breathed in the scent and tried to convince himself that it still smelled like detergent, but he could only smell salt and old cotton.

It started raining as night fell, the almost perpetual storm over the east coast breaking violently with the last of the sun’s feeble rays, and soon it was thundering.  He didn’t turn any of the lights on, just sat in the window and watched the storm and sea rage, waves crashing against the beach like the thunder above.

It was loud enough that he almost didn’t notice the sound on the other side of the door.

Instantly tense, he risked ten seconds to grab his stuff, thankful that he’d never really unpacked, and looked mournfully at the quilt left carelessly on the couch.  But he heard the key turning in the lock and couldn’t stay when the monster showed up, corrupting this one place, or maybe it was someone who’d rented the cabin-

He was halfway out the window when the choked voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Percy?”

He froze and glanced back.  The sky helpfully lit up with lightning so he could see her face, stricken.

She looked just like he remembered, if a little weathered.  The real difference was in her expression.  He didn’t think he’d ever seen her look so sad.

He swallowed.  “Mom?”

She threw herself across the cabin, tears streaming down her face, and tugged him back inside, heedless of the rain working its way over the window sill, leaving drips.  He mindlessly flung all the rain off of him so he didn’t get her wet, but something was still adding water.

She pushed herself back and cupped his face in her hands.

“Oh my boy,” she breathed, “you’re here.   You’re alive.”

Oh, he thought numbly, of course he’d been getting more wet.  They were both crying.

Percy broke into ugly sobs and buried his arms around his mother, bags carelessly strewn around him.  It had been almost five years since he’d last seen her, but she was here.

“You came to Montauk,” she shook, “have you- have you been here every summer?”

He shook his head.  “No, I haven’t been back to New York.  It… it was too close.  I just got here today.  Kelli said…”

His mom let out a breathless laugh, a smile taking over her face.  “This is the first time I’ve come back since… since you left,” she admitted, “but to think we get here on the same day… it must be fate.”  Her happy expression quickly changed.  “Where have you been, Perseus Achilles Jackson?!”

He cringed back at her worried, stern, miserable tone.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean to…”  Stay away?  Run in the first place?

She briefly walked away from him and he cringed until he realized she was closing the window.  She noticed, in that way only moms can, and immediately wrapped him in another warm hug.  He got rid of the rest of the rain water, putting it in the sink, with barely a twitching thought.  She froze before forcefully relaxing.

“Neat trick,” she said.

Instantly, panic filled Percy.  Regular mortals couldn’t do that, what if she thought he was a freak of nature-

“I guess that means you know?”

“Know… what?”  He couldn’t help but mutter the words into her sweater.  She smelled like candy.

“That your father was a god.”

He reluctantly nodded.  “Kelli told me.  We’re pretty sure we know which one, considering…”

She snorted.  “Considering.  Now, who’s this Kelli?  You’ve mentioned her twice now.”

He scrunched his nose, pulling back.  “You should probably sit down,” he grumbled, “if you want to know everything.”

She easily settled him back on the couch before she started to assemble the firepit.  He tried to get up but she sternly tucked the quilt around him and made him sit with just a look.  He instantly obeyed, hopeless against her.

“Well,” he said, “Kelli is… my friend?  Older sister?  Mentor?”

Sally paused briefly, but continued tucking the newspaper beneath the small and large chunks of driftwood.  “One of your father’s other children?”

“No,” he said rapidly, “she’s… an empousa.”

The fire flared to life and his mother looked up at him.  “She’s a monster?”

He shrugged.  “Will you be mad if I say yes?”

“Does she… hurt you?”

“Not really.”

She sat beside him and he eagerly moved the quilt so they could share it.  She tucked him against her side and they both looked at the fireplace, but he could feel her sneaking glances at him, drinking him in.

“She’s strong,” he blurted out, suddenly desperate for his mom to approve of the weird thing he had going on with Kelli, “I killed her by accident the first time, and she’s… kind of mad about it, but mostly she keeps fighting me to make me stronger so I don’t get eaten early.  She holds back and hasn’t actually injured me in ages.  She pushes me to be stronger and without her I wouldn’t have survi- been this good.”   His words switched when he felt her flinch against him.

“And it's not like she’s the only one,” he grumbled, “I run into Silenia every few months, and I kind of have a hellhound.  His name’s Bean.  He’s not… fully tame or anything, but sometimes we hang out for hours before he plays the murder game.  I’m pretty sure at this point he thinks that trying to kill me is a game, and he listened that one time I told him to leave another demigod-”

“You’ve met some?”

He hummed, nodding.  “I can see what Kelli says, though.  We all kind of smell.  It’s not a bad smell, but it does make me wonder what I smell like.  Probably closest to the plant kids.  They smell like petrichor for the most part.”

His mom hummed again.  “That’s interesting.  So you can… smell a demigod?”

Percy bit his lip.  “It’s more reliable than just them being able to see through the Mist…”

His mom burst out laughing.  “Oh,” she said, “you came across a few people like me, hmm?  A clear sighted mortal?”

He slouched and scowled.  “Yes.  But she apologized for setting the cops on me!  And we have this ongoing attempt to dethrone her dad.  We’re allies!”

“Oh?  She’s a princess, then?”

“Nah, Rachel’s just rich.  She uses it for a good cause, though.  Kelli and the girls just like her because she’ll get them into the really good parties.”

He rambled for a few hours before his eyelids started to grow heavy.  His mom kept running her hands through his hair and never left his side, holding tightly to him.  He would have fallen asleep right there on the couch in front of the dwindling fire if a flash of lightning hadn’t revealed the shape peeking in through a window.

He instantly tensed and carefully untangled himself from his mom.  She jolted into wakefulness and he tried to give her a reassuring smile even as he grabbed for his sword.

“There’s something outside,” he said softly, “I’m just going to make sure it’s not a monster.”

There was fear in her eyes, and he knew that part of it was reflected in his (hours, he’d only had hours) but she nodded slightly.

It took a bit of concentration to connect to the water he wasn’t touching, but the rain gave him a bit of a ring around the cabin that he could see.  The figure he’d seen in the window was making their way to the front door.  He crept on silent feet, toe to heel, and wrapped a hand around the handle.  The moment they raised their hand he wrenched the door open and pointed the sword directly at the person’s neck.  They shrieked and stumbled back.  He blinked and lowered his sword.

“Oh.  You’re a satyr.”

The goat boy looked up at him with astonished eyes, hair plastered to his head.  “I- yeah.  Um.  Are you the wandering swordsman?”

Percy’s face scrunched up.  “Huh?  Look, if you’re not going to kill me, you can leave.”

“Percy,” his mother said behind him, “let the poor boy in.  He’ll catch a cold.”

Percy scowled, but stepped aside.  The boy scrambled up on his legs and clopped inside, dripping.  Percy rolled his eyes and flicked all the water out as he closed the door.  The satyr jumped.

Percy walked past him back towards the firepit where his mom had restored life to the fire.  “Come in and get warm,” she smiled, “and maybe you can tell me what brings a satyr to our door.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am,” he stuttered, “but I probably shouldn’t stay long.  I… I’m Grover Underwood, keeper.  I was sent out a few years ago to find… Percy.  Does he… know?”

“That I’m half god?  Yeah.”

Grover winced.  “That makes sense, since you’ve been, you know, on the run.  For four years.”

“Almost five!”

“Percy,” his mom scolded, “you’re scaring him half to death.”

Percy blinked, then winced.  “Oh.  I was doing the glare thing, wasn’t I?”

“I’m sure you looked just like Bean at his worst,” his mother confirmed dryly.

He gave her a sheepish grin.  “Where d’you think I learned it from?  But why were you looking for me?”

Grover startled.  “Well, you’re a demigod.  If you come to camp with me, you’ll be safe.”

Percy froze.  “Safe?”

Grover looked at him with a complicated expression on his face.  Percy could pick out guilt, grief, and fear.  “You’ve fought monsters, right?  They always seem to find you, no matter what you do?”

He nodded numbly.  The one thing he could always count on.

“Well, there’s this Camp for demigods.  I, uh.  Chiron’ll probably tell you, but we’re pretty grateful for you, actually.  You’re semi-famous.  Half our recent demigods have come to camp with one of your weapons, and we’re pretty sure it's the only thing that’s saved some of their lives.”

He swallowed.  “Then… isn’t it better if I’m out here?  Wandering around and helping kids like me stay safe?”

His mom squeezed his hand.  “Percy,” her voice shook slightly, “that’s not safe.”

“But I’m used to it,” he insisted, “they’re not!  If I can keep people alive-”

“Your father might be going to war with your uncle!”

They both stopped at Grover’s outburst, and he winced, but pressed on.  “The God of the Skies and the God of the Seas are… they’re on the verge of war.  And, being who you apparently are, you might be the only one who can prevent it.  So if it’s a question of keeping other demigods safe, coming to camp might be the only way.  If you’ve figured out who your father is, then it’s only a matter of time before your uncles send worse monsters against you.  Everything you’ve fought has been pretty tame, right?”

Percy’s mind flashed to the hydra, the manticore, and then Kelli herself if she decided to try.  “Um.”

“Well, they’re going to get worse,” Grover was wringing his hands and looking like he was on the verge of tears, “and there’s going to be more of them.  An army.  I-I can’t lose another one.  I guess you couldn’t help knowing your heritage at this point, but it’s going to be more dangerous for you.”

Her grip tightened on his hand to the point of pain.  “More?  He’s been on the run for years, because I made a terrible mistake and married the wrong man.  And you’re saying… you’re saying he has to leave again?”

His heart seized.  He just got his mom back, and now this random satyr he’d never seen before wanted him to leave her behind?

“But no one knows who my father is,” he said slowly, “right?  You said “apparently.”  Meaning it was news to you.”

Grover’s face twisted into a confused grimace.  “I mean, yeah?  Your godly parent has been hotly debated, but no one considered the Lord of the Seas.  Which, well, of course they didn’t, they never would have thought…”

Percy squinted.  “Who did they think was my parent?”

“Erm, well, the top three were Lord of Forges, Lord of War, or Lord of the Sun.  Because you did sort of heal… people…”

Percy blinked.  “Oh.  No, I can move liquids.  So blood, poison… most of the time I just twist the blood to dry it out and scab it over, as long as there’s nothing bad in it, obviously.  I guess Lord of Forges makes sense, since I’m pretty sure one of his kids initially helped me,” (“that explains that brief period where the swords were weirdly good,” Grover muttered to himself,) “but everything I make is super crude.  Lord of War, though?”

Grover shrugged.  “A lot of people think you wouldn’t have survived without being a war child, since you fight monsters all the time.  You’ve been doing this for years, after all.  Look, maybe, um, keep your dad a secret for a while, okay?”

“Percy,” his mom cut in, “I think you should go.  To camp.”

He turned to her, betrayed.  “I-”

“No,” she cut him off, “I get it.  But I can’t keep you safe.  The last time I tried to keep you safe, I married Gabe, and you ran away for almost five years.  I can’t do that again, Percy.”

Percy went rigid.  “Smelly Gabe… was to keep me safe?  How?!”

She smiled wearily.  “You said it.  He was smelly.  He smelled so repulsively human that it would cover up your scent.”

Percy opened and closed his mouth for a moment.  “I dunno how you could stand it,” he muttered, “he smelled like moldy garlic wrapped in gym shorts.  Or hydra breath.”

Grover made a strangled noise and looked a little faint, but waved off their glances.

His mom chuckled a little.  “He didn’t smell that bad.  Just like beer and cigarettes and sweat.”

“No, I’m pretty sure he smelled like hydra breath.  After they’ve found and eaten some helpless deer out in the woods.  Topped off with some powdered donuts.”

She laughed, and the sound instantly made Percy want to relax, but the thunder rattled the cabin before he could sink back into the couch, and everyone’s faces turned serious.

“The sooner we get you to camp the better,” she swore, “come on, my car’s outside, it shouldn’t be that long of a drive.  Grover, would you be able to give me directions?”

The satyr straightened minutely.  “Yes ma’am!”

She smiled, and Percy hated the tinge of sadness.  “Okay, let's get our stuff and go.”

“Wait,” Percy said, “I don’t want to!  I never agreed to this!  I haven’t seen you in years and you’re already trying to get rid of me?!”

“Percy,” she sounded agonized and he felt like the worst son in the world, “I can’t lose you again.  At least there they can train you, and maybe… maybe you’ll want to go back out to help people, but I’d feel a hundred times better if you had some training about this whole thing instead of just being thrown into the deep end!  Maybe you can learn how to actually forge swords, learn techniques, get supplies, just know that you have a place you can return to if you need it.  And maybe… maybe you can come home.”

He jolted and thunder crashed.  The thought electrified him and terrified him in the same breath.  Home.   It felt like a foreign concept.

He mechanically packed up the few things he had.  His mom pressed the folded quilt into his hands and he felt something well up in him that he didn’t know how to name, so he shoved it down and the quilt into his backpack.  It filled up the remaining space and he had to push the air out so it would zip shut.

Grover sat in the front of her beat up Nissan, letting Percy and his stuff take up the back, and they started the drive through the torrential rain.  Percy was too dazed and unthinking to try and keep the car dry, not that it would really help, and they took things slow.

“One mile out,” Grover muttered, “we’re almost there.”

There was a roar behind them and the car jerked even as Percy’s head shot up.

“That’s not a sound I recognize,” he said even as his mother started to floor it, “but it sounded… far enough?”

“Let’s not test that theory,” Grover bleated nervously, “something must have caught your scent… but remind me again what roars it wasn’t?”

“Not hellhounds, hydras, or manticores.  Not cyclopes probably, though they can kind of sound like anything, and not laestrygonians.”

“You recognize that many monsters by sound alone?!”

“It was more of a size thing, I’m going to be honest.  Whatever it is sounds big and inhuman, which eliminates most of those one way or another.”

Grover whimpered.  “So it’s something big.”

“And inhuman,” Percy pointed out oh-so-helpfully.

“Percy,” his mom said sharply, and he deflated into his seat a little.

“Sorry,” he muttered.

She passed a giant hill and pulled the car into a small parking lot where there were a few shadowed vehicles.  “Okay,” she said, “we’re essentially there.  Grab your stuff and let’s go.”

They all scrambled out of the car as fast as they could when they heard another roar over the pounding storm, much closer than before.

Across the small car park, down a short path, was a lit up house.  He couldn’t make out any of the details since it was so dark and rainy, but there were three stories and a wrap-around porch, and it was a short run away.

“Come on,” Percy drew his sword and let the glow light his face up slightly, “we can get to the house!”

“I can't,” his mom yelled back, “I can’t cross the barrier!”

He gaped at her.  “Wait, so I'm just supposed to leave you out here with some monster?!  No!”

“It won’t want me,” she shook her head, pushing the two of them slightly, “now go!”

Percy stubbornly dug his feet in and swung his duffle bag around, unzipping it and pulling out two weapons at random.  One, a regular sword, slightly longer than his own, the other, a curved sickle he’d tried because he couldn’t unbend the leg where he’d accidentally gotten it twisted.  Kelly had almost been relieved when he’d relieved her of her calf after that accident.  He offered both weapons to his companions and they exchanged a glance before slowly grabbing them.  His mother took the sword, clutching it gratefully, and Grover held onto the sickle barely, nose wrinkling.

“Is this real leather?”

“No clue,” he shrugged, “I thrifted it.”

He bleated a little in annoyance, but whatever monster it was chose that moment to roar, alerting them to the fact that it had entered the car park, and he quickly rezipped the duffle bag and swung it back to where it was supposed to be, sitting right across the back of his upper thighs.  Both his mom and Grover were holding their new weapons tightly now, staring at the shape.

“Go,” she hissed, “get to the house, I’ll be right behind you.”

She moved a bit away from them, and they walked slowly and carefully.

Percy squinted at the monster.  It was indeed pretty tall, with a footballer’s build, all shoulders and meaty head.  Everything about his top half was wide, making his bottom half look smaller in comparison, but he guessed that even one of this guy’s legs was the size of him, so that didn’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.  Each of the guy’s arms was also as thick around as he was, and he could see hands like catchers’ mitts swinging at his sides.

His mom sucked in a breath.  “Pasiphae’s son.”

Grover winced.  “Ohhh no, oh no.  That’s bad.  Are you sure?”

Percy raised the hand that wasn’t holding a sword.  “Hi, the only learning I did was on the job, which one is this?”

“The bull man.”

“From… King Minos and the Labyrinth?”

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he nodded his head, “oh that’s bad.”

“He relies mostly on smell,” Sally muttered, just in audible range as she continued to put space between them, “so the rain is helpful, but won’t last forever.”

As if on cue, the Minotaur roared again and she started sprinting away from them, waving her sword in the air like a glowing beacon.

“What are you doing,” Percy cried, ignoring Grover trying to pull him to the house, “come on!”

“I can’t cross the barrier!”

“Why-”

“I, Grover Underwood, give Sally Jackson the mortal permission to cross the barrier!”

She startled, but dove out of the way as the Minotaur charged her and impacted with a tree.  Percy took a moment to preemptively ask forgiveness from any of the people who had cars here.  They’d managed to avoid getting any of them destroyed so far, but he wasn’t holding his breath.

“Come on,” Grover yelled, “now we can all go, let’s just get out of here before we become roadkill!”

His mom wasted no time making her way back to them and pushing them to run faster until they crossed the barrier.  The rain immediately cut off, making Percy stumble in bewilderment, but his mom kept pushing him.  “Few more steps to the porch, Percy,” she said softly, “just a few more.”

He turned back, looking at the Minotaur as it passed and steamed outside the barrier, and gripped his sword tighter.

“You said this is where all demigods go?  If they make it here?”

Grover looked at him, still holding the sickle in a tight and shaky grip as he heaved for air now that they were out of danger.  “Yes.  This is the only safe place for demigods.”

Percy smiled.  “I’ll be right back.”

His mom turned around sharply.  “Percy-”

He stepped back into the rain.

“Okay, meathead,” he said, “let’s dance.”

Chapter Text

“Ohmygosh, is that a hellhound?”

Percy and Bean both jumped, whirling to see who had found them behind the abandoned barn, but Percy blinked.

“Oh you’re… an empousa, right?”

She scowled.  “Don’t look at my legs, loser.  Haven’t you heard it’s not polite?”

“I’m… sorry?”

She flipped her hair behind her head.  “Whatever.  And who’s this cutie?  Aw, you’re so adorable, yes you are!”

Bean edged closer to Percy and away from the cooing vampire lady, which the nine year old could relate to.  “His name is Bean.”

She gasped.  “That’s so cute!  Can I pet him?”

“He usually tries to eat anyone who gets close to him.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Well duh, he’s a hellhound.   He’s not some random boring dog you can get at a pet store.  He’s a vicious murderer,” she was back to cooing, “aren’t you, you handsome thing?”

Bean seemed to decide that she was tolerable enough, because he tail started wagging and he let her scratch behind his ear.  Percy was not jealous that it had taken him like seven random encounters with Bean to be able to touch the dog without getting his face ripped off and it took her one.  He wasn’t.  (Stupid monster privilege…)

“Hellhounds make awful pets,” she said cheerfully, “they don’t super care about following directions, prefer to mostly live in packs, their saliva is full of gross things that will get you infected and kill you, and of course they tear up your furniture and eat all of your most expensive shoes.  It’s really difficult to get one to like you, let alone love you, because they’re creatures of Nyx and most of us are way too foreign to seem familiar enough.  Sometimes, our lady Hecate is described as being one of her children, but her parentage is hotly debated so while she sort of got grandfathered in to Lady Night’s brood, we’re just her champions anyway so it doesn’t help us much.  Demigods, though, demigods smell delicious, obviously, so I’m super surprised you’re not totally dead yet.”

She looked up with a fanged and contemplative smile.  “I’m Lacey, by the way.”

“Percy.”

She blinked.  “Perseus Jackson?  Kelli’s boy?  Oh, wow, that’s like, such a crazy coincidence!  I’ve heard stories about you every time Kelli drops in for a visit, so I figured I should try to come topside myself!  Uber surprised how often she gets to come here, bee-tee-dubs.”

Percy leaned into Bean’s side, letting the warmth that was just on the right side of too hot press into his side.  “You guys go back to the underworld to reform, right?  What do you mean “how often,” does she usually take a while to reform?”

Lacey looked at him curiously, but made no move to get past Bean’s head that was as large as hers was to get to him.  “Our Lady has to get us out.  We’re not just let out willy nilly, you know.  Sure, some of us find ways to sneak out, but those are usually the ones that take ages to reform.  Most of us have to find the Doors, which is almost impossible unless you have someone willing to get you out by moving the door or telling you where to find it.  Or you can get super lucky, I guess.”

Percy blinked.  “So… Kelli showing up every two to three weeks is abnormal?”

Lacey smiled.  “Exactly!  It’s really frustrating when I want to go see the cute and deadly baby monsters that pop up, but either they have to die or I need to get out, and then I have to stay not dead, you know?  So hard!”

“I’m… sorry for your loss?”

She gave a gusty sigh.  “I know.   You’re kind of sweet.  Do you taste sweet too?”

He pulled away slightly with a grimace.  “I don’t know and don’t feel keen on finding out.”

She blinked and cocked her head.  “Wait, is Kelli not biting you?”

“NO!”

“Oh.  I guess you are kind of young…”

He swallowed.  “I don’t want to be eaten, personally.  I’m… allergic to being eaten.”

She snorted.  “Super sweet.  Adorable, even.”  She looked at him curiously, inspecting his frame.  He gripped his sword and she cooed.  “Murderous,” she muttered, “so cute.”

Bean started shifting from foot to foot and she took several steps back.  “Aww, is he getting antsy?  Okay, let’s go on a run.  Bye bye Percy, see you later!”

Lacey ran, occasionally flashing forward in shocks of fire to keep out of reach, Bean instantly giving chase and snapping at her heels.  She was laughing, and Percy was certain she was crazy.

Percy didn’t have the ability to flash around with fire like the empousai did, but he’d never wished for it more than in this moment.

His mom was yelling at him for putting himself at risk, but also telling him that the Minotaur couldn’t turn well, and he should use that to his advantage.  The first time, this had let Percy cut a long line into the bull man’s side, making him bellow with rage and pain.  The second time, the man bull had wised up and held his hands out on either side.  Part of Percy was starting to regret challenging this Named monster (though most of them had names, they weren’t Names, if that made sense… they weren’t in any myths by name, at any rate) but the other part was glad it was him, who’d been fighting monsters for years, and not someone like he had been at age eight.  It was better this way.

And it was also better to leap straight up, using the rain to make a temporary launch pad by letting him put a foot down briefly.  He managed to get enough lift to soar clear over the monster, lashing out with his sword on the way.  The Minotaur screamed as the celestial bronze crossed over his face and head before it drew through his horn like butter, cutting it at a vicious angle.  As it stumbled, Percy wasted no time in planting his feet, turning to face the beast, and thrusting with all his might.

The weight that was pushing down on his hands slowly lifted as the monster dissolved into golden dust, just like all the rest did, and he could hear his heart pounding in his ears.  He slowly stood, letting the tip of the sword fall to the ground.  Lightning flashed and drew his eyes to the black and white horn, curling wickedly with a crazy sharp point shining in the light from the porch.  He leaned down to scoop it up, inspecting it.

“Percy!”

His head shot up as his mom’s voice shook him out of his musings (if he got better at weapon making that would make an awesome one) and he darted back over the barrier, marked by the edge of the car park, to where his mom, Grover, and three other people were waiting.  Or, well, “people” was a misnomer, since while two looked like kids, wearing orange shirts, the third was a centaur in a sweater with elbow patches.

“He must be the one,” one of the kids was muttering, eyes fever bright.  She hadn’t stopped staring at him with a slightly hungry expression on her face since he’d noticed her, and he didn’t know he felt about the continued attention, but the other kid was also looking at him, just with a more concerned eye.

“Are you okay,” he said as Percy approached the porch, stepping forward to meet him slightly, “are you injured anywhere?”

The girl scoffed.  “Didn’t you think he was your brother?  Surely that means he could heal himself.”

The boy shifted, uncomfortable.  “That’s not how it works, and it’s also night time.  Your name is Percy, right?  I’m Lee Fletcher.  This is Annabeth Chase.  We’re campers here.”

Annabeth tilted her face up slightly, looking down her nose at Percy.  “You’re soaked.  You should come in before you get a cold.”

She spun on her heel into the house and the centaur sighed.

“Welcome, Perseus,” he said, “I am Chiron, the activities director here.  Welcome to Camp Half-Blood.”

Percy scrunched up his nose.  “What was her problem?”

Lee chuckled slightly and scratched the back of his head.  “She, uh, she doesn’t know how to handle meeting someone like you.  Camp’s going to lose their minds…”

Percy stopped in realization.  “This is that thing Grover talked about.  The… wandering swordsman thing, right?”

Lee grinned, guiding him into the house and into one of the rooms down the hall.  It was warm and dry, and Percy willed himself to stay dripping even as his instinctive reaction would have been to dry himself and fling the water outside.  But people didn’t know, and Grover had freaked out, so…  He’d wait at least a little bit.  Maybe not immediately after he’d killed a Named monster in front of them.

“Yeah,” Lee confirmed, “we don't have our summer campers in yet, since it’s still May, but all our year rounders are here, and there’s a couple of us you’ve actually saved.  I think three of my siblings, though they’re all at school right now.  Jake Mason, you saved him just a couple of months ago, he’s still here, if you remember him.”

Percy thought for a second.  “Oh, Minneapolis, laestrygonians?”

Chiron chuckled behind them, hooves clopping.  “Indeed.  Welcome to one of our guest rooms, Percy.  This building as a whole is referred to as the Big House, and it is where your mother will temporarily be staying, as well as housing you for the night, as it is past curfew already.”

“If it’s past curfew, why are Lee and Annabeth out?”

“I’m head of the Apollo cabin,” Lee explained, “and she’s head of the Athena cabin.  Technically we get special privileges, but I’m on call whenever there’s a new camper.  I’m relatively certain she just snuck out of bed, Chase!”

“Sue me,” the girl called back, “it was loud!”

Lee rolled her eyes, but he was smiling a little.  “She wants to meet every new camper as soon as possible.  The fact that you happened to be a legend was just icing on the cake for her I’m sure.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, appearing at the other boy’s side, “it might not even be him!”

Percy decided that would be a perfect moment to put his stuff down, and the duffle bag clinked loudly with the amount of metal inside.  Lee gave Annabeth a look that had her flushing.

“I’m going to bed,” she grumbled, “welcome to camp or whatever.”

She disappeared back down the hall, passing Chiron who sighed.  “Ah,” the centaur said, “excellent, thank you Grover.  Here is something you can change into, Percy.  Are you in need of toiletries?”

Yeah probably.  “Not really.”

“Then I shall see you in the morning.  Come, Lee, I will escort you back to your cabin so the harpies don't get any ideas.”

Lee waved and walked out with the centaur.  Grover fidgeted in the doorway after handing Percy the orange shirt and pair of sweatpants.

“Um, sorry, I know it's not much, but we don’t really keep much else in the Big House…”

Percy shrugged.  “I can last until morning.  Plus I kind of do tend to keep an extra set of clean clothes in my bag.”

“Isn’t all your stuff wet, though?”

He smirked.  “Waterproof.  And for real waterproof, I mean, not just…”

Grover grimaced.  “Right.  Uh, about that…”

Percy’s mom poked her head out of her own guest room.  “Are you boys going to be alright?”

Percy smiled instinctively, looking as innocent as possible.  “Yeah, mom, we’re just going to bed now.”

She smiled back.  “Okay.  Sleep well, Percy.  I love you.”

His heart swelled.  How long had it been since he’d heard that?  “I love you too,” he choked out.

Grover gave him a few minutes to compose himself before he slipped into the room and closed the door behind him.

“Okay, look,” he said, “your dad is… a big deal.  One of the three big deals, you could say.  The three male Kronides made an oath around the time World War Two ended that they wouldn’t have any more kids, since they had kids fighting on either side and things got way worse way quick.  They kept their oaths for a long time, until the Sky King fell off the wagon for this starlet with wild hair.  This was eighteen years ago, and they had a little girl.  Well, when she was about your age, maybe a little older, she tried to come to camp and… didn’t make it.  She took a stand on the top of that big hill out there so the other two demigods and the satyr she was with could make it here safely.  Right before she died, her dad turned her into a pine tree, right there on the top of that hill.  It was bad, there was a whole horde of monsters after them, and, well, that’s what happens when you break an oath.  The Sky King didn’t want to take the punishment, so she suffered instead.”

Percy gaped.  “But that’s not fair!  Sky Guy made and broke the oath, Sky Guy should be punished!  It wasn’t her fault she was born!”

Grover mouthed “Sky Guy” to himself before shaking his head.  “That’s not my point.  I mean, yeah, it sucked, it still sucks to think about and it’s been five years.  If they’d been out longer, or you’d run away sooner, we would’ve, I mean, maybe they would have met you.  Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered.  But my point is, if your dad is one of the three big deals, one of the Kronides, then…”

Percy swallowed.  “Then I’m the one who’s going to get punished for it.”

“It’s not even just that,” Grover shook his head, “there was a prophecy, and no one but Chiron knows the whole thing, but… it wasn’t just because Big Three kids are powerful.  I think it was more.  It’s a huge deal if your dad is who we think it is.  People might not like you when they realize.”

He scowled.  “Then they don’t like me.  I’m just here because I haven’t seen my mom in five years and this means I can go see her more.  I don’t need people I’ve never met to like me.  I definitely don’t need people who thought I was cool suddenly hating me because of something I can’t control.  I don’t care.  I’ll just learn what there is to learn and then go back to wandering.”

Grover winced.  “That’s going to get you killed.  Early.  Percy…”

“Well, maybe that’s what people will want!  Can’t grow up to cause problems if I never grow up, right?”

He practically shoved Grover out of the room, shutting it behind the satyr, and glared holes in the wood until he heard the other boy shuffle away.  A pang of guilt went through him.  It wasn’t Grover’s fault and the satyr had been a little timid, but overall seemed like a decent guy.  He’d said he had spent a few years trying to find Percy, so he’d been persistent, at least, until he’d finally tracked him down at Montauk, all to try and get Percy to safety.  Sure, maybe it had been because of Percy’s reputation as this wandering swordsman dude, but he’d still tried.  And he hadn’t kept the information about his dad from him like other people might’ve, in an effort to not stress him out or for some bullshit reason like he “should just be a child” instead of knowing things that might affect his life.  And this was a pretty big thing.

He crawled into bed in his new warm clean clothes.  The orange shirt had a pegasus on it, and it read “CAMP HALF-BLOOD.”  His new… home.

He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

This time, when he dreamed of the stormy beach he’d been visiting for a while now, it wasn’t two animals fighting.  It was two older men wearing classic greek clothing, chitons, he thought they were called.  One was lined in blue, and the other in green, and they were holding hands at shoulder height, trying to push the other one over.

“Give it back,” the blue lined guy yelled in a way that really reminded Percy of a toddler throwing a tantrum, “give it back!”

“Don’t touch him,” the other snarled back, “don’t you dare!”

A deep laugh rumbled from the ground, egging them on.

Percy looked around, disquieted.  This wasn’t a beach he recognized, but he instinctively knew it was the Atlantic.  Further up the beach, almost hidden in the seagrass, was another man, but his chiton was black, lined with gold.  He was looking at the other two with a frown, and his hand was clenching and unclenching like he was trying to grab something, but was only coming up with air.

The man suddenly turned to look directly at Percy, and his eyes narrowed.  They were as gold as the lining on his chiton, and the gaze made Percy’s blood run cold and his breath stop.

“Was it you?”

Percy bolted up in the bed, breathing in the smell of cold.

Sunlight was pouring through the window, indicating that it was a bit later than he usually woke up, and there was a quiet knock on the door.

He stumbled out of bed and opened it, blinking up at his mom.  She blinked back for a moment before looking down at his hand.  He glanced down as well and almost dropped the sword.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “habit.”

She gave a lopsided smile.  “Of course, I don’t mind.  I just wanted to know if you wanted to get breakfast with me?  Apparently it’s time for the campers to eat, and Chiron thought it would be a good time to introduce you.”

“And you,” Percy narrowed his eyes, “right?”

She hesitated a moment before nodding.  “Right.”

“Give me a sec to put shoes on,” Percy muttered, “I’ll be right there.”

She waited outside the door for him.  He briefly considered changing out of the shirt and sweatpants, but didn’t feel like using his spare set of clothing quite yet, and what he’d been wearing last night hadn’t been returned to him yet.  His socks had dried overnight, and a surreptitious use of his powers made sure his shoes were bone dry as well.  He put the drained water in the plant in the corner of the room and was silently glad his shoes weren’t terribly gross since he could regularly wash them.  Ever since Kelli had first explained to him that demigods smelled, he had religiously washed the things that got the sweatiest and grossest as often as he could, and thanked the Fates themselves for his ability to manipulate water so he never had to wear wet socks and shoes.

They walked together, evidently his mom having been given directions, and oohed and aahed over the various areas of the campgrounds.  There was a lake, Percy’s favorite part of camp already, pegasus stables, an archery range, a forge (separate from the forge cabin, which was probably for the Forge Lord’s kids; he’d only ever encountered three but he’d liked all of them), an arena, a huge expanse of woods, obviously a ring of cabins, an amphitheater, a volleyball pit, a blacktop with a basketball hoop, and a giant rock climbing wall that was suspiciously spewing lava.  His mom had kept sending it worried glances, and he’d had to agree.

There was also an open air pavilion, and he figured it probably didn’t have a roof because of that whole rain barrier thing that he’d encountered last night.  There were a few dozen campers, mostly looking like older kids, milling around and sitting at tables while they collected food.  He watched as some of them dumped some food into a central brazier.  It didn’t take long for people to notice their approach, and he did his best to not hunch in on himself.  He had an instant of thinking that maybe he could hide himself with the Mist, but then remembered, oh yeah, these weren’t mortals.  People nudged each other and started to stare.  It took Percy a moment to realize they weren’t staring at him, so much, as they were his sword and his mom.  He glared at the people staring at his mom and they looked away.

“Percy,” Lee called, “how’d you sleep?”

He shrugged.  “I slept.  Dreamed.  The usual.”

“Campers,” Chiron called, “this is Perseus Jackson and his mother, Sally Jackson.  Percy is a new camper, he arrived last night with his mother and Grover.”

A blond boy’s head shot up.  “Grover’s back?  I thought he was looking for our swordsman!”

Jake Mason (Percy did recognize him, but he was a good bit bigger than he’d been a few months ago) waved happily at him.  “Luke, that is the swordsman.  Good to see you alive, dude.”

“Good to be alive,” he muttered as the whispers picked up tenfold.

“Excuse me,” his mom said gently, “we’d appreciate it if we could get some breakfast.”

The power of a mom voice!  Campers were instantly chagrined, going back to their own meals and tablemates.  Sure, they did still “sneak” glances and were still probably talking about him sometimes, but they tried to be less obvious about it.

“As you are undetermined,” Chiron said kindly, and Percy tried not to bristle as it seemed like the attention laser focused on him yet again, “you’ll be staying with the Hermes cabin for now.  Mrs. Jackson, you can sit up here with me and Mr. D, our camp director.”

All of Percy’s attention snapped to the other man, who looked incredibly bored, flipping through a magazine.  At his side were two boys around Percy’s age, twin cherubs with golden curls, and a girl who was a few years younger with a riot of curls tumbling down her back in a color that clearly matched her father’s, so dark it looked purple in the light.  There was a thick band of scar tissue across her neck.  He remembered her.

Their eyes met and she perked up, bouncing in her seat, before tugging on her father’s tacky hawaiian shirt and pointing.  The man looked up, disinterested, before his eyes met Percy’s.  They were a rich purple, so close to being red, and the smell of sour grapes Percy had been smelling came out of the background where it permeated the whole camp to practically assault him.

He very carefully bowed.  “Lord.  Why are you here?”

His mom’s head snapped up to stare between the two of them, eyeing the god carefully.

Mr. D cocked his head.  “Oh,” he waved a hand, “you know.  Punishment.  Nothing worse than looking after brats.”

The ten year old beside him rolled her eyes, and the two twins shared an amused smirk.

“Right,” Percy said slowly, “so… Hermes?”

The blond from before raised his hand.  “Over here.  I’m Luke, the Hermes cabin counselor.  We take in the kids of minor gods and the undetermined, like you.  Though,” he eyed Percy, “I don’t think someone like you will have to worry about that for long.”

This wandering swordsman thing was starting to annoy Percy, he thought as he got some food.  He hesitated for a moment before looking between Luke and the brazier.

The older boy took pity on him.  “We offer food from every meal to the gods.  The best stuff, usually.  They like the smell.”

Percy slid a fluffy pancake and a strip of bacon into the fire, not thinking of any god in particular, before he had a flash of inspiration.

‘To Hermes,’ he thought, ‘for sheltering me and for my journey’s… end.’

He smelt the food in its best light, nothing like burning pancake and bacon should smell like, and something that reminded him of snakes, feathers, and road dust.  It wasn’t an unpleasant smell at all, and it was something he’d caught a whiff of in his brief time at the Hermes table.  As he went back and sat down with the seven kids, the scent grew stronger again.

As he ate his remaining pancake and two strips of bacon, he tried to figure out who at the table was who.  There was Luke, who smelled of feathers and new shoes and something Percy couldn’t quite place, Connor and Travis Stoll smelled like worn leather and road dust, with Travis smelling more like feathers and Connor smelling more like brass, Chris Rodriguez smelled like snakes and feathers, and then…

“Oh, Alabaster,” Percy blinked, “right?  From Maine.”

The boy smirked, the smell of incense and quiet nights wafting over.  “So you do remember me.  Didn’t know if you would, what with all the people you’ve saved..”

Percy snorted.  “It’s only been… three years, right?  You made an impression.”

“Because the harpy exploded?”

“It was a very lasting impression.  I was finding feathers in my stuff for months.”  They took a moment to snicker before his smile became a bit more genuine.  “Glad you got here okay.”

Alabaster grinned.  “Me too.  This is Victoire, and finally, our last year rounder, Spencer.”

Percy inspected them and inhaled silently.  Laurels and the slight taste of metal, and antiseptic and mint.  “Nice to meet you.  I’m Percy.”

Victoire snorted.  “We gathered.  You’re a bit of a legend.”  She leaned forward.  “When we do sword fighting later, we should fight each other.”

If he’d had any doubts about her parentage, he didn’t now.  He looked around the camp, not bothering to move his empty plate, and looked everyone over.  There was Sherman, over at the table that smelled like blood and dog, with a slightly older girl ribbing and managing the table of four pretty easily.  Lee’s table had another eight campers, and Annabeth’s had five.  They smelled of pencils and olive oil and new books (and old books, as it happened, since those smelt far different).  There were three people at the plant table, smelling of freshly overturned dirt and new growth and partially of honeysuckle.  Jake Mason had only one sibling with him, smelling of hot metal, abandoned projects, and motor oil, and finally there was a table of four perfumey people including Lacy-without-an-e, the ones that all had a unique scent and made their own specific love song hover at the very edge of his thoughts, not that he could actually hear it.  Scents were weird.   He still didn’t understand why this made monsters salivate, either; it wasn’t like anyone smelled like food.

“Aren’t you going to eat more?”

He blinked, looking up at Spencer’s pinched brows.  “No?”

“You ate one pancake and two strips of bacon.”

“I’m used to working on less. And the pancake was really sweet.”

Spencer looked a little stricken at that, but left it alone aside from still looking like Percy’d kicked a puppy in front of him.  He sighed and grabbed a banana.

“So what do you guys do here,” he looked around, “just train?  All day?”

Luke chuckled.  “Not quite.  Sure, everything could be considered training, but I’m not sure how Arts and Crafts is going to be helpful in the real world.”

Percy blinked.  “You obviously never spent enough time out there on your own, then.”

Travis choked on his juice and his brother (younger, despite almost seeming like twins) slapped him on the back to try and help with his coughing.  Percy looked up, then over at Luke, whose expression had become a little fixed.  His hand had gone up to his neck, rolling a painted bead between his fingers.

“I’ve had a lot more experience than most,” he said genially, “but I guess you’re right.  You’d know, wouldn’t you?”

Percy slowly nodded, senses pricking with danger.  “Sewing, for one, was pretty useful.  Made things last longer.  And technically you could use the needle for lockpicking if you were desperate.”

Connor perked up.  “You know lockpicking?  Huh, maybe you’re one of ours!  What’s your favorite thing to steal?”

“Food.”

Chris winced.

Percy grimaced.  Great, he was already blowing it.  “Sorry.  Uh, well, one time I was the distraction while my friend stole her dad’s credit card.  She made almost five hundred million in donations to various environmental charities before he noticed.”  Really, before Serephone had messed up and caused a panic that almost broke the yacht in half and Rachel had dropped the wallet.  He’d canceled his missing credit cards the next day, well used to replacing things.  He hadn’t even noticed the purchases, though, so he didn’t reverse them either.  By the time he had noticed, it was due to media coverage, and at that point he would have lost face had he sued or retracted.

“Nice,” the Stoll brothers held up their hands for high fives, and he hesitated for a moment before obliging.

“Yeah, she’s cool.  I’ve only known her for a year and a half, but she’s probably one of my best friends.  Definitely my best hu- mortal friend.”

He barely corrected from human to mortal.  Probably not an amazing idea to mention most of his other friends were monsters to a table full of demigods that were often targeted by said monsters.

After lunch wrapped up, Lacy was the first one to pounce on him.  He easily swung her around using the momentum of her jump and she burst out laughing.

“Hi,” she beamed, “you made it!”

“Hi,” he grinned back, “so did you.  Not that there was ever any doubt, with Gleeson Hedge himself escorting you.”

She nodded.  “He’s really cool.  And I made my best friend!  Ariana is awesome!  And I love the claws, Beckendorf made me some that were even better and I can slash at anyone!”

“Good,” he nodded, “mine were kind of terrible.”

She pouted and a gorgeous girl with long black hair pulled her back slightly.  Her eyes looked like a kaleidoscope of colors and Percy felt himself blush.  Her perfume smelled like lilacs and fresh cotton, and she made him want to hum, the song on the tip of his tongue.

“Come on, Lacy,” she said warmly, “leave him alone, we have things to do and so does he.  And we’re doing canoe racing with the Hermes cabin later, so you’ll see him then.”

The nine year old pouted, but detached herself and waved.  Now that he’d been closer, he could tell she smelled like cherries and almonds.  He waved back and watched her go.

He smelled the blood before he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prick, and he flexed his hand around his sword.

“Hey there, punk,” Sherman grunted, “looks like you’re not dead.”

Percy rolled his head slightly to look at the slightly younger, but far taller and buffer boy.  “Sure aren’t.  Had some close calls, though.”

The boy snorted.  “With your luck, I believe it.  This is Clarisse, my older sister.”

The girl’s beady eyes looked him over, and she sneered.  “You don’t look like much.  Not one of ours, then.”

Percy bore his teeth in the mockery of a grin.  “Nah, you guys piss me off too much.  Comes with your dad’s territory.”

The girl chuckled meanly, and he smelled lightning crackle over the blood.  Interesting.  “You got spunk.  I look forward to creaming you in capture the flag tomorrow.”

“Never heard of it, but you can bet your ass I’m going to put up a fight.”

She barked out a laugh.  “Language, Jackson, language.  There are kiddies here, don’t you know?”

The other three, including Sherman, laughed, and the boy clapped a hand on Percy’s back as they walked past, shoulder checking him on the way.  He felt himself grinning as he didn’t budge more than an inch, and Sherman grinned back.  Good kid, they’d taken out four cyclopses together out in Indiana.

Luke sidled up beside him.  “You seem to know one person in every cabin.  Kinda wish you’d been around when I was coming to camp.”

Percy looked at him.  “How long ago was that?”

“Five years.  Though I was on the run for five before that.”

Percy stared at him.  “You were… also on the run for five years?”

Luke smiled, that same genial smile he’d worn before.  “Like I said.  I have a lot more experience than most.”

Percy felt himself flush with embarrassment.  Luke knew exactly what it was like to be on the run like Percy, because he’d also been on the run, for about the same amount of time.

“Come on,” Luke said, “first up today is foot racing.  After that, we got the forge, which something tells me you’ll enjoy.”

He definitely enjoyed the forge way more than he enjoyed foot racing, that was for sure.  There was something disheartening about being beaten by a literal tree, but they’d been pretty kind about it.  After all, they had a lot of practice running from lovesick gods.

It helped that Percy was still one of the fastest there, of course.  Other than Luke, Percy could go for way longer than everyone else.  He felt lighter than air, since most of the time when he was running, it was with all of his stuff on him, including a lot of metal.  In the beginning, he’d only taken Kelli’s leg when it was a spoil on its own, or when he only had one sword.  After he’d given away his first one to a demigod (it had been Ariana, actually, one of the first people he’d saved when he was nine and she was not quite seven), Kelli had torn him a new one for giving up his only weapon and taught him how to sharpen celestial bronze.  They didn’t have access to a forge until a few months later when he found the same kid who’d given him his hammer, and by that time he’d made at least four crude ones that, apparently, could not be salvaged except to be melted down.  Kelli was still peeved that he’d given away his only weapon to some random girl she was certain was going to die anyway since she’d been pretty injured when they’d finally been found by a satyr, but he couldn’t leave her defenseless when he felt like it was his fault she’d been attacked.  And she was so young, Percy couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her without even a weapon to swing.  She needed it more.

Stepping into the forge where Jake introduced his older brother, Charles Beckendorf, who everyone called by last name instead of first, was like walking back into the forge he and Colorado Kid had broken into, but so much better.  The kid (who he’d never gotten the name of, something about running from the foster system and having weird superstitions about it; plus they spent most of the time talking metal and weapons) had kept the forge hot as they experimented with temperatures to figure out how best to work the celestial bronze, since the kid was more practiced with mortal metals, of which this was not.  Here, in the camp forge, there was no need for experimenting, because they’d long since perfected the methods of forging and crafting all manner of weapons and machinery.

Percy still happened to be decent at it, even after all this time.  The heat just didn’t affect him as much, and he had snuck back to the Hermes cabin (where they’d moved his stuff) to grab his trusty hammer.

Beckendorf was extremely pleased to see it.

“Where’d you get that,” he grinned, “if you don’t mind me asking?”

“You have a brother somewhere out in the southwest,” Percy said promptly, “good kid.  He helped me make it, especially once he heard I’d be making my own swords again later.  He hated everything I made.”

Beckendorf looked a little disappointed at first, but quickly grinned.  “A brother, huh?  Maybe he’ll make it to camp later.  Did you leave him with one of your swords?”

Percy snorted.  “What part of “he hated everything I made” did you miss?  No, but he knows how to make his own knives.  He doesn’t like many weapons, but he has a good arm, and I left him with enough bronze to make at least a hundred.”

Jake whistled.  “I never asked, how’d you get all that celestial bronze?”

Percy scratched the back of his head.  “I killed a lot of empousai.”  Or just one, over and over again…

By the end of forge time and the start of lunch, he’d managed to start making his own sword, and he could see it start to take shape.  Like all the rest of them, it was off balance, but it was way better than what he’d already been using, which really lived up to the fact that it was literally a flattened and sharpened piece of leg.

Beckendorf sighed goodnaturedly as they quickly wiped off before heading to lunch.  “Probably not a brother of ours, then.”

Percy snickered.  “Nah, I did the sword thing out of necessity.  Plus I kept getting all these legs…”

Beckendorf and Jake laughed goodnaturedly about it.  He liked the Forge Lord’s kids a lot, most of the time.  They just unapologetically liked to make things, sometimes crazy feats of mechanics and machinery.  Watching Colorado Kid idly make a mini helicopter out of scraps and string that actually flew several feet before falling apart, when the kid was otherwise occupied with explaining the melting point of various metals, had been surreal.  He hadn’t super known his own father at that point, but that had cemented the fact that it really wasn’t the Forge Lord.  Then again, even with only two other kids to compare to, it seemed like Colorado Kid was even better than them.

No, wait, he knew who his dad was, why was he even entertaining this line of thought?  Never mind.  He’d had fun.  Creating was fun.

Lunch got him taught how the goblets everyone had worked, and he delighted in asking for blueberry ginger ale, but actually blue and not just a weird purple.  It was rare that he got access to soda, but when he could, his favorite things to get were either caffeinated, or ginger ale.  It was a miracle drug when he had an upset stomach, because he really, really could not afford to get sick out there.  Only once had Kelli actually decided to protect him while he recovered, and she’d already sworn she’d never do it again, because Percy was “just that pitiful” that it gave her ulcers.  After that, he’d avoided anything and everything that could have made him sick, excluding questionable food, since he quickly developed an iron stomach.

He was obviously the best at canoe racing, and he and Lacy absolutely dominated the competition.  He didn’t even need to use any of his more overt (or covert) powers, and just used his athleticism and instinctive excellent form to carry the two of them to victory every time.  When people started cheating (Travis and Mitchell, as well as Connor and Drew, in particular), that’s when he deployed some sneaky water powers to make sure he was still just ahead of them, so no one could beat them.  Lacy was delighted to be crowned Queen of the Lake by the naiads for their victory, the nymphs winking at Percy.  He grinned widely back.

He’d always been pretty fond of water nymphs on his travels.  It wasn’t often that he did more than chat idly with them while he fished out some of the trash that had made its way into their rivers, creeks, and streams, but he’d made friends with a few.  Some, like the Mississippi, were pretty busy and bogged down, so in exchange for safe passage he just did a few hours of cleaning and then went on his way, never really interacting with them.  The Colorado River wasn’t quite as bad, but he’d maybe caught a glimpse of any major and well known river… once or twice?  The Potomac seemed to be one of the only exceptions for the big rivers, but he did tend to avoid the East Coast until summer, so they didn’t talk as much.

The day after passed in a similar way, with different activities, up until dinner.  He’d seen his mom around, talking to Mr. D and Chiron or watching and participating in some camp activities, but she was looking a little nervous all throughout dinner.

“Campers,” Chiron announced as dinner was winding down, “it is time for Capture the Flag!  Currently holding the laurels is the Athena cabin.”

The table of five erupted into cheers and two of the taller campers got up to run a ten foot long banner in, silver and adorned with an owl.

“In our final battle before our summer campers arrive,” Chiron continued, “they have teamed up with the Ares cabin.  Leading our opposing side is the Apollo cabin!”

Lee and a guy Percy had been introduced to as Kyle brought in their own banner, also ten feet long and bright shimmering gold with a lyre on top of a sun.  Their kids were cheering as well.

Percy leaned over to Luke.  “Which team are we on?”

Luke smirked.  “Ares and Athena are our war cabins.  They decided they wanted to fight everyone else.”

Percy blinked.  “Isn’t there like… nine of them?”

“Sure is.”

“And there’s… almost thirty of us?”

“Twenty eight, but kids under ten aren’t allowed to play, so we really have twenty three, yeah.”

Percy blinked hard.  “Awfully confident of them.”

Luke shrugged.  “It’s a dangerous combination.  Put the Athena brains with the Ares brawn?  Even with only nine kids, it’s definitely doable for them.”

They got up to walk to the woods, the campers splitting along the group lines easily as they eagerly talked together.  Annabeth and Clarisse had their heads together, grins looking like snarls almost.

“But we have our cabin, which has four messenger kids, a magic kid, a victory kid, and a healer kid, on top of the sun kids, the forge kids, the madness kids, the plant kids, and the perfume kids.  How, exactly, do they expect to win?”

Chris blinked.  “How’d you…?”

Percy squinted.  “It’s… pretty obvious.”

“Plus,” Alabaster said gleefully, “we have the wandering swordmaster!  I bet Chase is regretting not recruiting the Hermes cabin now, huh?”

“Okay,” Lee strolled up, “Hermes cabin, you guys are our hope.  My fleet footed friends, if you can get around them and get the flag back, the rest of us are going to protect our flag.”

Spencer, who was eleven, looked a little nervous about this, and Percy took half a step forward.  “Do you guys have like… a medic line or something that Spencer could go to?  I mean, we can still take him, but…”

Spencer jumped and blushed.  Alabaster leaned over.  “How’d you know he wants to be a medic?”

Percy looked at him askance.  “He smells like antiseptic?”

Lee was nodding.  “Yeah, that works.  Will should be back next week, Spence, so you might be our senior medic for now,” he teased, “sorry about that.  We’re setting up at Donna’s tree, the tall sycamore, everyone remember that one?”

Kyle stretched his arms above his head.  “Sounds good, chief.”

“Castor, Pollux, Silena, Mitchell, Drew, you five are on border patrol.  Katie, Miranda, Fern, you guys have free rein of the woods.”

The plant kids grinned evilly while Drew rolled her eyes, inspecting her nails.  Still, Percy could smell the sharp perfume bottles she had in her pockets.

“The eight of us will be defending the flag with all we’ve got,” Lee said fiercely, making all seven other Apollo campers grin widely, showing off teeth, and Percy instinctively bared his back.  His blood was pumping now.

They split up, most people going deeper into the woods to where Percy could barely see a large tree peeking over the rest of them.  Luke gathered them around him.

“We’ll take two squads,” he said, eyes sparkling mischievously, “I’ll take Percy, Chris, and Alabaster, Victoire you’ll take Travis and Connor.”

“What,” Travis complained, “you’re making the unclaimed person in charge?”

“Well, you know how it goes,” Luke snorted, “she wants to win more than anyone I know.  So I know she’ll keep you two on task.  I, on the other hand, have two unclaimed kids and Alabaster to handle.”

Alabaster flipped their cabin counselor off, but they split up.  Percy leaned over to Chris.  “What did he mean, two unclaimed kids?  You’re the Messenger Lord’s kid, aren’t you?”

Chris looked at him out of the corner of his eye.  “If I am,” he said bitterly, “he hasn’t claimed me.”

“Hey, Percy,” Alabaster called over as they stood waiting for the signal to start, one hand on his sword and the other fingering something in his pocket, “why do you never call the gods by name?  You know you’re at camp, right?  Sure, names are powerful, but you’re as safe as can be here.”

Percy shrugged.  “I’m used to it.  Besides, I’m pretty sure immortal beings have longer memories.  Wouldn’t want to piss off a lot of people and then get jumped as soon as I leave the safe zone.”

Luke snorted.  “Not sure it works that way, but fair enough.”

The conch horn sounded and Luke grinned, swinging his sword once.  “Let’s go.”

They followed Luke, who wasn’t running at his full speed.  Chris’s footsteps were utterly silent.  Alabaster was the loudest, but he rolled his eyes at Luke’s raised eyebrow and pulled out a card from his pocket that was twice the size of a playing card and it burnt up in his hand.  As soon as it did, all sounds coming from Alabaster disappeared, and he even looked a little translucent.

They got across the stream and a little deeper into the woods before Luke sent Chis and Alabaster off in another direction, miming things that Percy couldn’t really figure out, but clearly they did, because they smirked and went off.  The only motion Luke made to Percy was to gesture him to keep following.  Percy gripped his sword tighter and rolled a little on the balls of his feet before following after.

There were a couple yells in the woods to their right and left.  If he focused, he could hear the rapid growth of plants from pretty far away and the cackle of Drew with the tinkling of glass.  He also heard Victoire and Sherman apparently having a war cry competition (and likely during the middle of combat, if he knew them well enough) which meant their group had been found.

Luke raised a hand and they slowed at the very edges of a clearing that was piled with rocks.  From this angle, around the side of the clearing (based on the position of the sun, Luke had taken them in a loop around, so they were currently also facing the camp) the rocks looked like just… a clutter of animal droppings.  Hung high on the tallest rock, shimmering slightly in the dying light, was the silver Athena banner.  There were two visible people inspecting the woods, both Athena campers, named Sage and Sean.  They were both slightly older than Percy.

Luke leaned over and barely moved his mouth.  “You’re my backup.  Someone might be hidden, but I can take these two.”

Percy frowned to himself as the boy slipped away before taking a running jump to swing down on Sage, who shrieked, but he obligingly held back, sitting in the shadows of the tree just to watch.

Luke was an amazing swordsman, as Percy had sort of already known from the one practice they’d had, but watching him fight both Sage and Sean really proved it.  He could play them off of each other, though they adapted quickly, and was moving the fight closer to the flag.

Suddenly, however, Luke leapt back, swiping his sword at nothing.

Sage grinned.  “And there we go.  You’re a little arrogant if you thought you could get the flag all on your own.”

Luke smirked.  “Come on, Annabeth,” he called, “are you really going to do three on one, when one of you is invisible?  Talk about unfair.”

Percy cocked his head and stared, watching carefully.  He heard her scoff and his eyes zeroed in on that general location.  He very carefully took in a breath through his nose.  He wasn’t exactly downwind, but it was enough.  Of her siblings, Annabeth smelt the most like pencils over anything else.  He saw and heard the rocks scraping as she moved and Luke tried to compensate for her presence that he could vaguely sense, but couldn’t see.

Percy hesitated another moment still.  Should he help Luke, or should he take the flag?

He leapt out and swung his sword.  Annabeth cried out and he watched rocks get disrupted as she strangled back.

“Di immortalis,” she snarled, “where did you come from?”

“Did I say three on one?”  Luke attacked Sage and Sean with renewed vigor, grinning.  “I meant three on two.  Nice of you to join me, Percy.”

Percy’s eyes and ears never stopped tracking Annabeth’s movement, his nose unerringly leading him to the pencils and new books, with a slight undertone of olive oil.  She tried to lunge at him but he completely stepped out of her reach.  She had a dagger, didn’t she?  He lashed out with the flat of his blade and felt and heard her stumble directly into Sage.  She popped into visibility as the hat on her head, a New York Yankees cap, dislodged.  She looked pissed, and Percy grinned.

“Invisibility works best for a surprise attack,” he said, “but you usually want that surprise attack to end the fight.  And if you don’t have people to distract your opponents, staying invisible doesn’t help, especially because your allies don’t know where you are either.”

Luke hit Sean over the head and he crumbled, groaning.  Sage backed up, holding her sword, with a harsh swallow.

“It won’t matter,” she grumbled, “Clarisse will get your flag.”

Percy narrowed his eyes.  “Luke, think you’re faster?”

The older boy gave him a cocksure grin.  “Course.  You got them?”

Percy shrugged, eyes never leaving Annabeth.  “Maybe.  I can delay them, at least.”

Luke wasted no time, and Percy lashed out at Sage to force the girl to focus on him.  Soon enough, the tall blond boy was off in the woods, and Percy bared his teeth.

Annabeth opened her mouth to say something to Sage, but Percy didn’t let her get a word in, sword darting out like claws.

It was still one of his pretty shitty swords, the one he’d been using for a year or two, because he’d already tested every sword in the armory and decided that if he was going to be using an unbalanced sword anyway, he might as well use one he was used to.  (Of course, seeing a few of his old weapons in the armory, even though they were objectively the worst things ever and deserved to be turned into scrap, had been a bit of a trip, but apparently some people like Lacy and Jake were sentimental.  According to Beckendorf, they’d likely be broken down at the end of summer, but for now, every weapon a demigod had brought in since last September was just… in the armory.)

Still, even as a shitty sword, he was faster than them and didn’t let them get a word in edgewise.  He avoided more than bruises, smacking with the flat of the sword and curving around them and their quality blades.  He wasn’t afraid to kick dirt at them or trip them up, and his other hand reached out to grab and pull them to keep them off balance.

It seemed like no time at all before the horn sounded to signal the end of the game and Annabeth huffed.

“We’ll see who really won,” she snapped, stomping off.  Percy watched her go before turning to help Sage lift the woozy Sean onto her shoulder.  Percy idly inspected the boy’s head.  There wasn’t any blood, just a sizable welt, so he just tucked himself under the boy’s arm and they walked back to the starting position.  When they arrived, he saw Luke holding up a banner, now green with a caduceus in the center, being lifted up by his siblings, Alabaster, and a few of the Apollo campers.  Their banner, held by Clarisse, was still the sun themed banner it was before, and she was scowling and having an argument with Annabeth.

Percy hummed.  “So what happens if someone from the leading cabin gets the other banner?  Do they just both turn?”

Sage snorted.  “Yeah, but Chiron sorts it out.  It’s always going to be the winning cabin and then their top contributor.  If a Demeter kid had taken the flag over, they’d have been considered the top contributor and they’d get the banner.  It’s useful because it means the same two cabins can’t just keep teaming up; it forces the victors to split up.  And, of course, every other cabin then gets to try and make deals with the teams that want them for next time.”

Percy hummed.  “So the wisdom kids and the sun kids were on the same team last time?”

“Yeah, and Athena got the flag.  We were the leaders that time, but they’d been judged as top contributors.  We put it to a vote.”

Percy hummed.  “When does recruitment start?”

She snickered.  “As soon as your counselor has something to bribe us with.  Tomorrow, usually.  Kids start coming back next week, so the next Capture the Flag will be in two weeks.”

“What happened to him,” Spencer said in dismay as he approached, “he looks so bad!”

Sean squinted at the kid.  “Thanks, dude.”

“Go see Dorian,” he sighed, “he’s holding the ambrosia store tonight.”

“Luke hit him,” Percy said as the two Athena kids walked away, “which, to be fair, he was fighting Sean, Sage, and an invisible Annabeth.”

Spencer eyed him.  “I assume you’re why they’re covered in bruises, then?”

He grinned back.  “So why didn’t you just do some power mumbo jumbo,” he changed the subject completely, “why’d you send them to Dorian?”

Spencer flushed.  “How’d you know?”

“Alabaster asked me the same thing.  You still smell like antiseptic and mint.”

“Ah, um, well, I haven’t been claimed or anything, not that it would change anything because he’s a minor god…”

Percy cocked his head.  “Do most people not know?”

Spencer shrugged.  “Most people don't even think about the minor gods.  They don’t have to, the only people in their cabin are their siblings.  And I’m not really allowed to do more than first aid if Will’s not here.”

“Will’s your friend?”

Spencer nodded rapidly.  “My best friend!  He knows who my dad is too, and he lets me practice when it's just us in the infirmary!  He thinks I could be even better than him one day!”

Percy smiled.  “Then, if I ever need a doctor, I’ll go see you.”

Spencer stared up at him slightly with wide eyes.  “Me?”

“Of course.  We’re cabinmates, we gotta look out for each other.”

“So you’ll fight,” Spencer said slowly, “and I’ll heal!”

“Sure.  Healing’s pretty hard, so I’ll be counting on you.”

They had reached the cabin, and Luke had them all file in.  “Let’s be speedy,” he called as they started putting things away and gathering toiletries, “we want to beat the Ares cabin to the showers.”

They all cheered and practically sprinted to the showers, claiming them before the other cabins could.

Perhaps, Percy thought, camp would be okay.

Chapter Text

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

The cupboard that the abnormally large, ugly, and gross smelling man had shoved her into had a spider in the top corner, right by the door.  She’d have to go directly under it if she wanted to leave, and she’d heard something heavy get put in front, marked by the shadows that cut through the barest edges of the light.  Her mind was buzzing with panic between the spider and the dark and she couldn’t make sense of what that man and his friends were laughing about.  She heard fire crackling, maybe.  The thunk of a knife.  Some part of her told her that these men, these monsters, were cannibals.  They were going to eat her.  The other part of her brain said, as long as the spider didn’t get her first.  It wasn’t moving towards her, but she added on a nice, easy “yet” to that statement.  They always found her and they always bit.

She tried to take a deep breath to try and think her way out of this.  Her mom would eventually notice her missing, never coming home from school, and call the cops.  The town wasn’t huge, so surely they could trace the path to where she was and find her?  She hadn’t been taken far, and she was a freshman in high school.  Her single mother would come home, freak out that her baby wasn’t home, and probably… call her.  Her mom was so smart, she knew that she’d be found before it was too late.  She had to be.

The spider moved slowly down its web and she pressed back farther.  There wasn’t much room to maneuver at all.  It was less than half a foot from her.

Another voice cut through the deep, mean sounding chuckles.  It sounded… young.  She tried to swallow and focus.  The cannibals laughed more, then there was a sound like metal and they started yelling.

She and the spider were locked in a staring contest even as the weird cabin they were in shook with great force like something(s) heavy had been dropped to the ground from a great height.  She started to calculate the size based on the sound and the density.  It felt… small and dense.  A cannonball, maybe.  She started to feel and smell fire when the screams started and she couldn’t stop the flinch.  The cannibals were screaming.

And then they weren’t, and that was worse.

The spider was frozen just as much as she was, and she couldn’t help but be grateful.  In the stillness, she could pick out the softest of scrapes.  Steps.  Getting closer.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe.

Whatever was in front of the cabinet door scraped loudly as it was dragged away, and the lengthening band of light had never looked more terrifying.  The spider abandoned their staredown to crouch in the corner as if hoping it wouldn’t be noticed.  She never thought she’d commiserate with an arachnid, but here she was.

They knocked.

She flinched violently and hissed as her elbow throbbed from where it had slammed into the back.

“Sorry,” the boy outside the cabinet (or was it a boy?  The cannibals had looked normal before, had sounded normal-) said sheepishly, “I didn’t mean to startle you.  Um, the giants are dead.  If you want to come out.  Or don’t.  Uh.  I can just… leave this here…”

She kicked the cabinet door open and scrambled out as she heard an oof.  It had collided with the boy, and she randomly grabbed the nearest thing she could find.  It was a chair leg, from the shattered remains of one of the chairs that had been around a dining room table.  She looked around frantically.  The door was right there, hanging on by a single hinge, which about matched the state of the rest of the cabin.  She had been right, the thuds were probably the cannonballs now lodged in the walls and floor.  The areas around them were scorched and some wood, notably what used to be the table, smoldered still.  There was a groan and her attention snapped back to the… boy.

He was rubbing his nose and sniffing, squinting in pain.  His eyes, green, flicked up to her, and he raised his hands in surrender.

“Sorry,” he said again, and his voice was a little nasally, “sorry.  You must be pretty freaked out.”

Her eyes locked on to the bronze sword he’d set on the ground and the one tucked into a ragged belt.  Her grip on the table leg tightened.

“Who are you?”

The boy smiled slightly, eyes careful and taking her seriously.  She appreciated that.

“I’m Percy.  I was just passing through when I heard the laestrygonians.  The uh, the giants.”

She stared blankly.  “The cannibals?”

He blinked.  “I mean, I guess you could call them that, but they aren’t… human.  So I don’t know if I’d call them cannibals.”

“What do you mean they aren’t people?”

He scratched the back of his head.  “This… well, I know you’re one of us, but this might sound crazy.  Uh, well, have you ever noticed things that were… weird?  Not necessarily weird like the giants, weird, but strange people, strange creatures, ones that no one else can see but you can, for some reason?  Or… do you happen to have ADHD and/or dyslexia?  Apparently that’s common, who knew.”

“One of… us.”

He nodded, grimacing.  “Do you want me to rip the bandaid off or ask leading questions to ease you into it?”

“Bandaid,” she demanded immediately, “definitely bandaid.”

He nodded again, slower this time, and she could practically see him arranging words behind his eyes.

“Okay.  Bandaid it is then.  You probably only have one actual parent, because you’re a demigod.  Your other parent is a god, goddess if I’m reading you right.  More specifically, Greek.  Don’t name names, but you know that one goddess of wisdom, weaving, and battle strategy?”

She opened and closed her mouth.  “She’s a virgin goddess.”

“Yeah, but she sprung from the Sky Lord’s head, so that method doesn’t really require any sex to happen.  Your other parent is probably someone pretty smart, right?  Well, however many years old you are minus one, they did something that really wowed the Owl Lady and spawned you, a literal brain child.”

“You’re a literal brain case.   That’s insane.”

But she was already clicking puzzle pieces together.  She loved puzzles, and this one just kept snapping into place.  Almost sixteen years ago, her mother had been patenting her reinforced fabric that was still being used in military patents and ensuring she could work at the local craft store instead of needing a job to pay the bills.  She had thousands squirreled away to get her through retirement and pay for college along the way, even before she was still making money, because they lived well below their means.  She knew they were so, so lucky for her mother’s textile genius.

…Enough for her mother to have impressed Athena herself?

“Monsters will keep coming,” Percy said softly, and she jolted back to the present, “if they’ve come once.  It helps that you’re kind of out in the middle of nowhere, but I would feel a lot better if you’d take this sword.”

He nudged the sword he’d put on the ground her way, and she wrinkled her nose.

He laughed.  “I know, it’s shit.”

She couldn’t help but gasp and he went red, ducking his head.  “Sorry.  I… don’t usually have to watch my language, but I forgot the south cares about it a bit more.”

“My mom would wash your mouth out with lye,” she giggled breathlessly, “and you can’t be more than… how old are you?”

He huffed.  “I turned twelve last month, actually.  I can see that “ten” on the tip of your tongue.”

She slowly picked up the sword.  It glowed ever so slightly.

“How do I know if they’re monsters?”

“Well,” he scratched the back of his head, “if it makes you feel better, this can’t hurt mortals, and most of them will see it as like, a bat, probably?  I usually get a bat.  There’s this thing called the Mist, capital m, that prevents regular mortals from seeing monsters or godly stuff, which includes our weapons.  Does get a little annoying when there’s a giant bull charging down the street at you and people just see a garbage truck for some reason, though.”

She burst out a laugh and she smiled and stood, brushing himself off.

“Katrina.  Or, well, my mom calls me Kat.”

His eyes lit up.  “Like the hurricane?”

She instantly flinched, hunching a bit on herself.  It had only been two weeks since Hurricane Katrina made landfall, and already people were calling her a bad omen or making fun of her.

“Sorry,” Percy had stepped a bit closer, “I think it’s cool.  I like hurricanes.”

“They… kill people.”

He shrugged, but winced.  “I mean, yeah.  That’s nature.  A lot of things kill people, though.  At least a hurricane doesn’t do it on purpose.”

She couldn’t help but look at the destroyed cabin, where not five minutes ago there had been cannibals - no, giants, Percy had said.  She believed it, even if this was still insane.

“Where are their bodies?”

She sounded numb, and she felt it too.  How close had she come to dying?

“Monsters turn to golden dust when they die.  Makes clean up arguably easier.”

She raised an eyebrow at the destroyed building and he winced.

“Ok,” he conceded, “maybe not exactly, but that’s more a result of the fight, not the bodies.”

She inspected the “sword” and hefted it.  She could tell it was horribly off balance, even never having held a sword before.

“I would have given you claws,” he blurted out, “but I’m still trying to make them not suck, so.”

She blinked.  “What?”

“Because… Kat.  Kitty.”

She burst out laughing.  Her mom did sometimes call her Kitten, but no one else at her school had ever connected her to the animal.  It was a new school, after all, and they’d had other things to connect her to.

“Okay, Percy,” she said warmly, “you and only you can call me Kitty.”

The twelve year old beamed at her.  “Come on, you want to get home, right?”

She jumped.  “Oh shoot!  Yeah!”

He waved.  “Stay safe!”

Kat looked at him.  “Wait, what?  You can come with me.”

He gave her a side glance and winced.  “Not… really.  The longer I stick around, the more likely more monsters are to show up.  One demigod is bad enough.  Two?  Yeesh.  S’why I never stay somewhere longer than a week.”

She swallowed, thoughts running like cheetahs through her head.  “Will I see you again?  What if other monsters come?”

“We’re built to fight,” he shrugged, “and you actually have a weapon now.  Besides, of course you’ll see me again,” he gave a lopsided grin, “I have to cash in on calling you Kitty!”

She nodded slowly before taking a deep breath.  “Okay.  Okay.  We’ll meet again.  I promise.”

“Fuck yeah!  Uh, I mean, hell- heck yeah!”

The summer campers arrived in waves.

Some of them came from the airport, picked up by Argus, the many eyed man, and dropped off.  There were only a few who were new, it seemed like, but about four dozen were dropped off by Argus.  Others were driven in by parents or older demigods, adding a few new cars to the parking lot, and a handful came in with satyrs.

The only way Percy knew more people were arriving was if he saw them walking in, or at dinner.  Every night, more and more of the tables filled up, and the Hermes table was no exception.  The smells were almost getting overwhelming, and beds and floor space were filling up quick.  He forgot as many names as he learned, and mostly only associated people with their diverse scents.  About two thirds of the summer campers filling their cabin weren’t Hermes kids at all.  He smelled everything from bees to ice to sugar to incense to mist.  Whatever that smelled like.  His senses were assaulted.

Meanwhile, Luke was gathering allies for the capture the flag game against the Apollo cabin.  Apollo had already wooed Demeter and Aphrodite, but Hermes had managed to snag Dionysus and Hephaestus.  Athena and Ares were their last holdouts, and neither Luke nor Lee had managed to bribe them enough yet, and the game was in two days.

“Okay,” Luke clapped his hands, “this is our last sword practice before the game, and we are set to do it with the Athena cabin, so this is our chance to convince them to join our side.”

“What,” Victoire scoffed, “by showing them we’re strong enough to beat them?”

Luke grinned, making the scar pull a little. “Hey, what’s the phrase?  If you can’t beat em, join em?  We already beat them at capture the flag, let’s beat them at this too.”

“Beat us at what?”

They spun to see Annabeth with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised.  Her golden curls were pulled up in a ponytail and her whole cabin was outfitted in weapons and basic armor, mostly chestplates and some bracers.  Percy traced over the thirteen of them.  When they’d fought last, there had only been five.  Now their numbers had more than doubled.

He blinked and slowly grinned, running forward.

“Kitty!”

He tackled her with a laugh and she swung him around to help burn off some of his momentum.

“Jeez, Percy, what are you made of, lead?”

“Butt kicking.”

“You can’t be made of butt kicking, you can only deal it!”

He stuck his tongue out at her.  “Then I’m definitely gonna deal it.  Hope you’ve gotten better since last year!”

“You didn’t even see me fight last year!”

“I take it,” Annabeth cut in sharply, “that you two know each other?”

Luke laughed, finally having made his way over, and Annabeth instantly softened.  “Come on.” he said, “it’s clear this is another person who met the wandering swordsman, Annie.”

“Don't call me that,” she muttered halfheartedly.

“So,” Sage grinned, nudging her half sister, “Kitty, huh?”

“Only Percy can call me that,” she declared, “so don’t you start.  Katrina or Kat for you.”

A few of the campers booed goodnaturedly, but let Luke herd them into some semblance of a line.

“Now,” he said, “do I have a volunteer to help me demonstrate the sword move we’re going to be learning today?”

Almost everyone took a step back, leaving Percy, Katrina, and Annabeth still forward.

Luke gave them a crooked smile.  “I see I have a reputation.  This is a sword move, so let’s use Percy, so it doesn’t look like I’m picking on a new kid.”

Percy snorted internally.  He’d only been there for a few weeks himself, but sure.  Not picking on the new kid.

Luke walked them through a maneuver that would disarm an opponent with a sword, though he did admit it should work on other weapons as well, just a bit more finicky.  He went through it slowly, and Percy allowed him to disarm him, sending his sword a few feet away.  He did it twice more before grinning.

“Alrighty, that’s the lesson.  Let’s break into pairs and spar.  Perce, do you mind?”

Percy sighed to himself.  “No, that’s fine.”  He really felt like Luke didn’t like him.  It wasn’t blatantly obvious to other people, but it was small snubs, mostly asking him for things constantly when there were plenty of other capable people.  It felt like every time there was combat, Luke paired himself up against Percy, wanting to prove something to himself or whatever.  Percy would be more upset if it wasn’t helpful for him and he couldn’t feel himself getting better.  Everything he’d ever learned was pretty much self taught through trial and error, and the chance to correct his forms was nice.  Some he’d figured out, but others offered him more power and stability, and fighting against actual people instead of random monsters or Kelli over and over was a new experience for him.

He and Luke just watched each other for a moment.  Percy was unwilling to push, knowing that lunging just sent him closer to the danger, so soon enough Luke was swinging forward.  He was good, better than Percy, and he definitely had a longer reach and more muscle to back him up, since he was nineteen to Percy’s twelve.  Still, Percy wasn’t afraid to kick and claw and throw dirt at the other boy.  Rather than be upset, Luke had come to expect this, and it always made him give a dark smirk like he was hearing a joke no one else could.

He could feel himself being pushed back, pushed harder , and suddenly Percy didn’t feel like it was a spar at all.  He ducked under claws and teeth that weren’t there and felt his breath come in shorter, harsher puffs, designed to maximize the amount of oxygen he was getting.  He dug his feet in and swung, feeling his blood rushing through his veins.

Clang.

Clarity returned to him when he went for his back and didn’t find a dufflebag full of swords to replace the one that had been twisted out of his grip.  Luke had demonstrated the disarming technique on him.

“So you see,” the Hermes head counselor said cheerfully with a bit of an edge to his voice, “if you practice it enough you can use it to effectively end a fight!  Let’s take a short break and then switch partners, okay?”

He barely flinched when Luke’s hand came down on his shoulder, guiding him to the water dispensers that had been set up at various points in the arena.  Thankfully, other campers steered clear of theirs, and Luke shoved a cool paper cup into his hand.

“Hey,” Luke said softly, “I’m uh, I’m sorry.”

Percy blinked.  “For what?”

The older boy rubbed his neck with a pained grimace.  “I didn’t mean… for it to get that intense.”

Percy instantly flushed.  Gods, Luke had seen him essentially have a panic attack because of a measly fight.  Talk about embarrassing.  Any of Percy’s cool points from being that wandering swordsman dude?  Down the drain instantly.  He downed the water and let the energy flowing into his veins revitalize him out of his funk.

“I’m fine,” he said, trying to sound calm, cool, and collected and probably falling short, “we can go again.”

He grabbed another thing of water just to be on the safe side, drinking half of it and pouring the other half on his head, plastering his hair to his forehead and letting the excess trail down his back.

Luke shifted.  “Well, we’re going to switch partners now…”

Percy almost protested, but then snapped his mouth shut.  It would be good to fight more than one person, so he didn’t get too used to fighting against one style and build.  Plus, he could use a break from Luke picking on him.  Maybe he felt bad about it now that it clearly affected Percy, but based on how he’d been acting for a week, Percy wasn’t counting on it to last.

He ended up paired against Katrina, and he couldn’t help but relax.

“Hey there, Hurricane,” he grinned, “how’s camp?”

She scowled at him, but her eyes were smiling.  “It’s good!  A satyr came by back in October and explained everything to me and my mom, but we decided I’d go to camp for the summer instead of dropping out.  I didn’t even meet any other monsters, which was nice.  I think I saw a harpy, though.”

He laughed.  “No news is good news, right?”

She hefted her sword.  “Yep!  Now come on, I’m going to get this.”

He took it a little slower for her, demonstrating the things he’d picked up or learned while here and letting her try them.  She got better over the rest of the time they had, and Percy relaxed into the familiar soothing motions that had no real urgency behind him.  It was easy to remember that he wasn’t fighting for his life when Kat was ducking around his swings and leaning out of arcs, muttering about weaving.  On a whim, he pressed his sword to hers and twisted, perfectly demonstrating the disarming technique Luke had shown earlier.

Kat exclaimed in mock outrage.  “You ruined my weaving!”

He snickered.  “With no cloth to show for it?”

She leaned forward and poked him between the eyes, pushing his head back slightly.  “My mental cloth is now full of holes because you made me drop a stitch.  Bastard.”

“How did you know my parents weren’t married?”

“Perce, none of our parents are married.”

“Your words are hurtful.  This is hurtful.  I’m hurt.”

She opened her mouth to reply before her eyes went wide and she grabbed him, staring at Luke and Annabeth.

They were talking quietly, and Annabeth was blushing, but didn’t look happy about it.  Reluctantly, she grabbed Luke’s outstretched hand and they shook.

Kat cheered.  “We’re joining you for capture the flag!”

Connor laughed.  “Hell yeah you are!  Come on, we knew this was a done deal before you guys even stepped in the arena!  Those two are attached at the hip!”

Sage nodded reluctantly.  “It is pretty rare we’re against Hermes.  Maybe every one in five?”

Malcolm, a younger Athena camper, grinned.  “I look forward to working with you, wildcards.”

Alabaster snickered.  “Of course.  This means Ares will probably go to the enemy, but we have numbers, and Luke, Annabeth, and Percy.”

Percy shifted uncomfortably and Kat put an arm around him.  He forced himself to relax and smile.

Everything was fine.

The day they had capture the flag (Ares had indeed joined the Apollo contingent), Sally declared she was going to go home.

Percy instantly protested, of course, and looking around proved that some of the other demigods weren’t too pleased with the idea either.

“Mom,” he said lowly, “why?”

She smiled sadly.  “Percy, I do have a job, you know.  I’ve been here for two weeks for a family emergency, but the bills won’t pay themselves.”

It felt like whatever calm he’d managed to amass burned away entirely.  He knew she’d been a crutch, but he hadn’t realized how much.

“Everyone’s liked having you here,” he argued, “and you don’t need to pay bills if you just live here!”

She wrapped her arms around him and he realized he was shaking.

“You know I can’t do that,” she murmured into his hair, “I have to live.”

“Without me,” he muttered, and instantly regretted it when she stilled for a moment before continuing to rub a soothing hand over his back.

“Maybe,” she said tentatively, “you can come home after the summer?  We can try school?”

He grimaced.  “I think I’d rather go on the run again.”

She flicked his ear in admonition.  “We’ll see.  How about this?  As soon as I get home, I’ll call camp to say I made it safe.  Maybe Chiron will let you call every week, I know they have a landline in the Big House.”

“Demigods aren’t supposed to use phones.  Attracts monsters.”

“Well,” she said wryly, “it seems like you like to make friends with monsters.  Also there is that barrier around camp.”

His fingers tightened in her shirt.  “You’ll call?”

“I promise.”

He slowly let her go and looked up at her, letting her thumb around his eyes as she smiled at him with all the love in the world.  For a moment, he smiled, but then she pulled away and walked to her Nissan.  He watched as the car turned on and she backed out of the parking lot, slipping down the road and out of sight.

“You’re lucky.”

He didn’t turn to face Annabeth.  “I know.”

“Not many people have a good parent,” she continued blithely, “let alone one like Sally.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I just want to make sure your head is in the game tonight.  I’m not going to lose just because you miss your mom.”

He turned around, walking past her.  “I’ve spent five years fighting without her.  Maybe you should worry more about the other people who’ll miss having her around.  I mean, she really endeared herself to camp, huh?”

Annabeth, one of the people who had soaked up attention from Sally, flinched at the sarcastic accusation and he breezed past her.  He had some free time, so he stalked to the lake.  He needed something to distract him from losing his mom again, at least until she called.

As they suited up for capture the flag after dinner, Percy met Chiron’s eyes.  The centaur shook his head and Percy frowned.  She hadn’t called.  Yet, he told himself, she hadn’t called yet.

“Okay,” Luke gathered them together, “we’re defending Zeus’ Fist, the place we were taking last time.  Creek is the boundary line, as always, so we’ll need a bit more defense there.  I want Percy and the Hephaestus campers on the border.  Lay traps, set up ambushes, whatever, but you’re our first line of defense.  Rest of Hermes and Athena, gather up, Annabeth has a plan.”

The girl smirked and led the others away.  Beckendorf clapped Percy on the back as they were left behind, a grand total of twelve kids.

“Welp,” he grinned, “let's set up some traps, then.  Here, Percy, we can show you the ropes.”

Nyssa obligingly held up winding lengths of ropes that were shot through with bronze wire with a grin on her face and he couldn’t help but snicker, temporarily out of his funk.

He heard a growl, maybe, and cocked his head, delicately turning his nose up and sniffing a little.  The only thing he could smell was hot metal, abandoned projects, and the lingering scents of olives and road dust and that weird thing that was uniquely Luke that he still couldn’t place.  He tentatively decided to assume his mind was playing tricks on him.  It had been ages since he’d last seen Bean; maybe he was just missing his dog?

The Forge Lord’s kids were still some of his favorites for sure, and they set up traps and defenses easily, showing him how it was done.  Mostly this meant pit falls and rope traps, tripwires and nets, but watching them work was like… well, a well oiled machine.  Mechanical trap after trap took shape just beyond the treeline in the woods, with the campers spreading out behind them.

“Hey,” he said quietly before the horn sounded, “I’m going to defend by the creek.  Mislead them, pretend I’m so confident.”

“I love how you say pretend,” Jake snorted, “when you’re literally suggesting being left by yourself out in the open.”

“Ah,” Percy raised a finger, “but what they don’t know is that you guys will be just inside the treeline, waiting for me to lead them directly into an ambush.”

Beckendorf considered it with a frown.  “We can’t see the creek from where we hide.”

“But you can hear me,” Percy pointed out, “so it should be pretty clear when a fight finds me.”

They reluctantly let him go and Percy’s blood sang with anticipation.  Really, it wasn’t about being bait or a distraction or the first line of defense or whatever.  What he really wanted was to be able to stand in the creek and utterly trash people for no reason.  He wasn’t going to hurt anyone, but he was worried about his mom.  Maybe she’d gotten caught in some insane traffic or something, but the fact that he hadn’t heard anything yet… worried him.  So, yeah, taking out his emotions in a fight.  The hardest part would honestly be not using his more blatant powers.  He still remembered his promise to Grover.

He took off his socks and shoes and flexed his toes.  When summer came, he usually spent a lot of time shoeless out in the wilderness somewhere.  If he didn’t need to visit civilization, he often didn’t.  He was way more comfortable feeling the earth and the water than he was sweltering in shoes that were already worn by that time.  He couldn’t often replace shoes, so not wearing them out was the name of the game.  It only ever became an issue if there was litter.  He’d definitely cut his feet on some discarded glass at least twice, but he didn’t mind cleaning up the woods any more than he minded cleaning up water.  He’d never seen a dryad before coming to camp though; maybe the naiads and nereids just knew him as some instinctive water thing.

He sighed as the water washed over his feet, coming up to the middle of his calves.  The stones were relatively smooth, and he kept his footing easily.  He almost glided through the water, the only sound the same murmur that the water made on its own, and not splashing.  He knew that when people did show up, they’d be loud, but for now he was absorbing the quiet of the wild.

The horn sounded and he stilled as birds fluttered out of the trees.  It was dark, with light fading and the perpetual storm clouds still lingering in the sky.  It was only the fact that it was summer that meant it wasn’t completely dark in the woods.

He cocked his head as he heard fights start to break out.  The creek as a boundary meant that they could only cover about half of it between the twelve of them, but they had the spot that was easiest to cross well defended, which meant that anyone who wanted to come over would need to either brave their defenses or risk going through the severely uphill part, littered with rocks all the way to Zeus’ Fist.  It smelled like… petrichor, so plant kids were the ones braving that.

He saw flashes in the woods and heard yells.  Projectiles, probably light arrows from the Apollo cabin.  He’d seen Lee and Michael working on them, and they were already bad during the day.  At night, when it was so dark outside?  Flash grenades.  Actual, literal flash grenades.

He smelled roses on the wind, drifting from upstream, and he shuddered for a moment before it was taken over with the smell of blood and cumin.  He gripped his sword and stood in a relaxed, set stance.

“Well, well, well,” Clarisse called as she and three of her brothers stepped out of the woods on the other side of the creek, “Castellan must really hate you, Jackson.  Leaving you out here to defend the creek all by yourself?”

He shrugged a single shoulder.  “Maybe he just trusts me.”

They all barked out laughs.  “As if,” she scoffed, “one dude, no matter what kind of reputation, is not enough to face even one of my siblings, let alone four of us.  You should run and hide, swordsman.”

She said it like an insult, which Percy almost appreciated.  She was only a year older than him, but she was so much larger, both in height and muscle, and her siblings were not far behind.  It was Sherman, Mark, and Justin, he noted, their top three fighters after Clarisse.  He flexed his toes in the creek.

“It’s not that you can’t beat me,” he said idly, shifting into a ready stance, “it’s just that you won’t.”

Predictably, they ran forward.  The three boys had swords, but Clarisse bore a spear, and he could smell the ozone that permeated her scent came from the spear.  The smell of blood rose until it completely clogged his senses, but he could still see just fine.

With the water powering his every move, he ducked around them, made them hit each other, and dodged the sparking spear tip, slashing out and slicing small cuts into them, just enough to sting.  Finally, after one more time of Mark and Justin tripping over each other, Clarisse snapped.

“Enough,” she barked, “back up, I’ll cream the punk.  You three go for the flag, we can’t afford to waste time on one idiot, decent or not!”

Percy made no move to stop them, knowing that eleven Forge Lord kids could take three of War Lord’s.  Probably.  They could stall them, at least.

Clarisse grunted, twirling her spear as neither of them moved.  “You’re fucking annoying, you know that?”

He grinned.  “Language, La Rue, language.”

She snorted.  “You’re not gonna say shit, you’re just as bad, except you forget to catch yourself sometimes.  Only times you never messed up was when your mom was around.  Like you had a second sense for her or something.”

Percy flinched as he remembered.  His mom still hadn’t called.  It’d been almost seven hours since she’d left.  She still lived in New York.  She hadn’t called.

He jolted out of it by barely dodging a spear swinging for his arm.  He felt the sparks kiss his skin, making it tingle, and forced a tight shudder through his body to shake the thoughts from his head.  He couldn’t worry about her right now, there was a scarily competent spearwoman in front of him who would accidentally take his head off if he wasn’t careful.

“Your mom is fucking awesome,” she grinned as they got more into the fight, his feet never leaving the water, “and she’s so nice?  Like, what the fuck.  You’re a lucky bastard!”

He grunted.  “You can say that again.  She was awesome.”

“So why’d you leave?”

“Stepfather.”

“Ah.  Shithead?”

“Highest degree.”

“Damn.”

He wheezed as the spear hit his sword and the leather grips couldn’t quite stop all the shocks.  It took everything in him to not drop it.

Clarisse grinned meanly.  “You like it?  Gift from my dad.  I call it the Maimer!”

“I thought,” he huffed, “maiming was against the rules?”

She shrugged before swinging again.  “Dessert privileges.  I’m not a huge fan of sweets anyway.”

“I watched you eat like, seven of my mom’s cookies in a row.”

“That’s different, shut the fuck up!”

They both got a little more serious as if they’d gotten some signal at the same time.  Probably the sounds of fighting deeper in the woods; it seemed like her brothers had encountered the forge kids.  Having to dodge her spear entirely added an extra layer of complexity to the fight that Percy appreciated.  Had he not been standing in the creek, liberally splashing water everywhere in a domain that he never lost his footing in?  Yeah, he’d probably be more frustrated.  But even with their competitive natures taking over and them both wanting to win, the fight wasn’t super serious.  They didn’t hate each other or anything, so it wasn’t an emotionally charged fight.  Just a good one.

When they heard people running from either side, Clarisse’s side closer, it stepped up yet another notch as they wanted to get around each other to help their teammates cross.

“Those bastards better not lose,” she hissed as her spear barely missed Percy’s nose.

“Well, we have the fleetfooted,” he quipped, trying to shove her with the flat of his blade and coax the water into making her slip, “and we sounded closer anyway.”

She growled and lunged, and he winced as a slice opened up on the inside of his upper arm.  His arm fell numb and he felt more than saw water clawing its way up his leg in an attempt to reach the wound.  It would take a moment to get there.

He grabbed his sword with his left hand and held it a good deal more awkwardly than he had in his right.  Clarisse grinned.

“Looking a little lost there,” she snickered meanly, “not used to fighting with your offhand, huh?”

“Unfortunately I’m not bisweptual,” he deadpanned.  Her surprise and mirth let him make a wobbly jab at her, simultaneously shifting his stance to make creek water force her foot out from under her.

The horn sounded as she was trying to get up and his head shot up.  Annabeth held the banner high above her head as Luke picked her up, cheering loudly.  Also with them were Malcolm and Alabaster, and people were starting to trickle out of the woods to surround them, including the people who had been running for their banner.

Percy held out a hand to Clarisse and she eyed it for a moment before grabbing it begrudgingly.

“That was good,” she admitted, “but bisweptual?”

He snorted.  “I stole it from rowers.  There’s this sport for rich people called crew where people row long boats, people often row on one side or the other, but I overheard this one girl saying she was bisweptual and I thought it was really funny.  This is the first time I’ve been able to use it.  It’s a bit of a stretch, sure, since you more swipe or slash than sweep, but still.  Couldn’t pass it up.”

She contemplated it for a moment.  “Bistabtual?”

“Huh.  Yeah that works, especially for you.  Equal opportunity stabber.”

“Damn right.”

He tuned in briefly to Chiron congratulating them for a game well played as the younger campers cheered around him, finally entering the play area.  Spencer was next to who Percy now knew was Will, and the two were practically joined at the hip.  Ariana and Lacy were nearby as well, looking at their older siblings with glee, even though Aphrodite had lost.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and Percy swapped his sword back to his mostly healed right hand, instantly alert.  Clarisse noticed and narrowed her eyes, but also cast a gaze out into the woods.

He only heard the growl for half a second before he was spinning to the black lunger, sword poised.  He barely heard Chiron call for his bow before the hellhound, the size of a rhino and much larger than Bean, knocked the sword from his still partially numb grasp and its claws went for his stomach, teeth for his neck.  Clarisse gave a war cry even as people screamed, stabbing it with her spear, but aside from it jolting, it pressed forward, eyes locked onto Percy.  He heard her spear snap in two as the hellhound maintained momentum and she didn’t let go.  The shockwave knocked her on her ass and into the creek with a groan and Percy’s blood raced in his ears.

He felt the claws tear into his side and winced as he heard scared screaming.  His sword was too far with the hellhound directly on top of him, so he looked back at it with a snarl and clenched a fist.

Water shot through the hellhound like spears, finishing what Clarisse had started.  It staggered, teeth inches from his throat as it weakened and turned to dust above him, swirling into the water and dissipating in the creek like silt settling.  He heaved for breath as the creek stitched his aching side back together and closed his eyes against the stream running over them.

“Percy,” Luke cried as he came close, “are you okay?”

He weakly lifted a thumbs up.  “I’m used to it.”  The sound was garbled through some of the water, and he mustered a glare as Luke hauled him to his feet.  His side twinged; he hadn’t been quite done.  He looked over to see Annabeth helping up a dazed and pissed Clarisse, but she was looking at Percy, stormy grey eyes holding an unreadable emotion.

People gasped around him and he grimaced.

“About the water thing… I can explain-”

“Posiedon,” Chiron’s voice was quiet, but it cut through the clearing anyway, “Elder God, King of the Seas, Earthshaker, Stormbringer, Father of Horses, Father of… Monsters.  Hail, Perseus Jackson, Son of the Sea God.”

“Well,” Percy muttered, looking up at the glowing green trident, “that lasted all of two weeks.”

He had another dream that night.  He was no longer on the beach, but instead in a supermarket.  He was looking at a woman with curly, brassy red hair, inspecting vegetables and humming to herself.  She was wearing overalls and a floral patterned shirt and there was a smudge of dirt on her nose that covered some of the golden freckles splattered across her nose.  Her eyes were green, like his but more of a bright spring green than his sea green.

She chewed on her lip, somehow not eating the matte dark purplish red lipstick.

She turned to him.  “What do you think, lasagna, or ratatouille?  Or should I just make a bake?”

He blinked.  He didn’t even know what vegetable she was holding up.  A cucumber?  Could you put cucumbers in any of those things?

“It’s a zucchini,” she grumbled, putting them in her cart, forgoing the plastic produce bags, “and yes, you can put them in all of those things.  Really, what are they feeding you at that camp?”

Brisket, most of the time, buttery rolls, the occasional roasted carrot or asparagus.  He also liked potatoes and surprisingly brussel sprouts, but they did have bacon and this sort of vinegary glaze on them.

She sighed.  “But no zucchini?  Gods, these and squash are just so versatile.  We’ll just do all three, I have to send meals every night anyway.  Hermes will get sick of me and my husband.”

She was snickering and walked further into the store, and Percy couldn’t help but follow.

“You’ll find me in Colorado, by the way, near Denver.  I can include something in my care packages, if you have something to send.”

She smiled at him, and he saw the green change to look a little more unearthly and deeper, something more like fire.  “And of course, you’ll need a house gift if you’re going to visit my husband.  I’m sure I can put something together for you, in return for a favor.  I look forward to your visit, Perseus.”

He woke up in the empty Poseidon cabin with a deep sense of unease.

She had smelled like flowers and fertilizer.

You weren’t supposed to be able to smell in dreams.

To say that the attitude at camp had changed was an understatement.

Where before, people had looked at him in awe or (more preferably) friendliness, now there was badly disguised fear, shock, disgust, trepidation… Percy was feeling like a thesaurus, trying to categorize all these emotions around.  Very few people didn’t change.  Pretty much only the people he’d known outside of camp, to be honest.  Them, Luke, and Clarisse.

Grover came out of the woodworks as well, following Percy around and hanging out with him, trying to be cheerful and act like things were normal.  Percy really appreciated it, actually, and told the satyr he was a good friend.

“Percy,” Grover sat next to him at breakfast three days after capture the flag, “what’s on the roster today?”

Another thing that came from having his own cabin was setting his own schedule.  The problem was, none of the other cabins wanted to do anything with him, so most of the time he just signed up to work in the forge.  All of the Forge Lord kids seemed a little skittish around him, but Jake and Beckendorf were always willing to work on the benches next to him.  His sword was really coming together with all the extra time he was spending on it, and the devoted forge time was really helping put muscle on him.  Coupled with having access to more food and Spencer’s puppy dog eyes across the dining pavilion, Percy felt like maybe he wasn’t destined to be a skinny short kid forever.

“Some old,” he replied with a bit of sarcasm, “forge, lunch, lake.”

Grover opened his mouth to reply but a sharp voice cut in.

“The Hades you are,” Clarisse barked, “you’re doing combat with us after lunch.”

Sherman gave him a grin and a thumbs up even as most of the other Ares kids sneered or glared.

Percy narrowed his eyes.

“When,” he said, “are you going right after lunch?  All afternoon?”

Clarisse grinned.  “Yeah.  Weapons, then hand to hand.  Takes us all the way to dinner.”

“You’re insane,” he said flatly, “actual literal muscleheads.”

“‘Least we’re not wimpy fish!”

“Careful, your bloodlust will make me think you’re sharks.”

“Aww, you say the nicest things, Princess.”

“Not really, I’ve always wanted to try shark steaks.”

“Put your money where your mouth is and show up in the arena this afternoon.”

Grover looked back and forth between the two of them before giving Percy a confused look.  “Why are you happy that she’s insulting you,” he said out of the side of his mouth.

Percy blinked.  “How can you tell?”

Grover blushed.  “Satyrs, uh, have empathy?  We can read people’s emotions near us.  And can form links with people if we really need to but that also ties our lives together so we really don’t do it often.”

Percy hummed.  “Kind of helpful.  And… I guess it’s nice, to have someone to snipe with.  She reminds me of my sister.”  He snickered at Grover’s terrified look.  “She’s adopted.  That does make her worse, though.”

“You have a sister.  Like Clarisse.”

“Ehhh, more like a mix between Clarisse and… Silena, maybe.  She taught me everything I know about makeup and charming people.”

Grover shuddered.  “That sounds terrifying.”

“Yeah,” Percy laughed, “but she’s been looking after me for years.  I definitely wouldn’t be alive without her.”

The satyr frowned.  “Is she… a demigod?”

“She is definitely not a demigod.”

Grover relaxed.  “Okay.  I’m glad you found someone, then.  Sorry it took so long to find you…”

Percy immediately put an arm around him.  “Hey, don’t get all depressed on me now.  Just because I’m good doesn’t mean that gives you leave to be sad in my place.  I think you did fine.  I mean, it wasn’t like I was exactly waiting around to be picked up.”

Grover bleeted out a short laugh.  “Yeah, but the Council doesn’t see it that way.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “The Council?”

“The Council of Cloven Elders,” he explained, “they’re the governing body for the nature spirits, especially the satyrs.  They regulate our jobs.  Most of us are keepers that go out to find and protect demigods, escorting them to camp.  It’s mostly people around my age, who can pose as students.  If you succeed at being a keeper, you can apply for a searchers license, which is every satyr’s dream.”  He sounded so wistful before he slumped again.  “Only, I failed.  It took me over two years to find you, and you still fought that monster outside of camp.  Apparently, I’m not a very good protector…”

Percy frowned.  “But… that’s not your fault?  Like I said, it wasn’t like I was hanging around for you to find me.  And we totally did get inside the barrier, I just decided to go back out on my own.  That’s not your fault.  Can't they give you another chance?”

“This was my second chance,” he said miserably, “and I blew it.  So I guess I should join you in underwater basket weaving next time.”

“…Grover, can you breathe underwater?”

“…No.”

Percy snorted.  “I’ll see what I can do, then.  But is there really no other chance for you to get this, uh, this searcher’s license you want?”

Grover shook his curly head.  “Maybe, if you went on a quest and for some reason decided to take me with you.  But I’d be a liability, so…”

Percy cocked his head.  “Hey,” he said suddenly, “do you still have that sickle?”

Grover blinked.  “Yeah, actually.  It is fake leather, by the way.  Why?”

Percy smiled.  “Just wondering.  See you at lunch?”

Grover took a bite of a tin can and waved him off with a curious expression.  Percy’d take it after the slump the goatboy had been in before.

The forge was just as warm as usual, and he unconsciously pulled steam towards him before taking a deep breath and letting it out, relaxing his muscles.  Usually, he spent the afternoon in the lake to recover from the intense three to four hour work out in the morning, but this time a shower before lunch would have to suffice.  Then probably another one after dinner, knowing Clarisse and her siblings.

“Perce,” Beckendorf called, “welcome in!  You’re on your last day for the sword, right?”

Percy smiled.  “Yep.  Last day, then it’s all done.”

He was kind of… nervous about it, actually.  He and Colorado Kid had done some experimenting, but they’d both been a little rushed and made a handful of decent, but not amazing, swords and things, since they didn’t know the right temperatures and neither wanted to get caught by authorities since they had been breaking and entering to use the forge they’d found.  This was one sword that Percy had devoted two weeks on under the careful supervision and instruction of one of the best blacksmiths at camp.  The issue was, Percy still felt it was unbalanced, but anyone else who held it declared it good, so he was starting to think that it was just him being used to the way out of balance stuff to the point that he wouldn’t recognize a balanced sword if someone stabbed him with it.

Still, the majority of the sword was finished, he just needed one last heating and cooling, one last sharpening of the blade, and then he could wrap the hilt and call it done.  It was a straight and flat sword, the length of one of his arms, and he carefully watched it turn cherry red and then shimmering, bright gold before he got to work.

He was about to put it in the water when the forge door burst open with a loud BANG and he flung the sword in that direction.  His aim wasn’t good, thankfully, and it landed in the ash bin, making a slight spitting noise.

“Shit,” he muttered.

“Um,” Grover squeaked, “sorry, I, uh, Mr. D, he’s going to k- he wants to see you.  Percy.”

“Hang on,” he fished the sword out of the ash, grabbing it by the unwrapped handle, and felt Beckendorf and Jake looming behind him in sympathy.

Jake handed him an oiled rag and Percy ran it over the blade, cleaning off the ash.

Beckendorf whistled.  “Well, good news is, it was cool enough already that it doesn’t look like the integrity of the blade was affected at all.  Helps you were on the last cooling anyway.  Bad news is, you’re going to have that pattern for the rest of forever.”

Jake snorted.  “You call that bad news?  Beck, it looks cool.”

Percy couldn’t help but agree.  The ash had bonded to the blade, giving it a grey speckled color with bits of bronze shining through, and they bloomed in little circles, making it look pockmarked.  Some circles were bigger than others, maybe up to the size of a dime, while others were barely bigger than individual specs of ash.

“Fine,” the older boy said in amusement, “the real bad news is that you have to sharpen it again.  Happy?”

Percy snorted.  “Definitely.  This blade is going to be one of a kind.”

“That’s awesome and all,” Grover interrupted, “but I really think you should go to the Big House now.”

Percy sighed and handed Jake the blade.  “I’ll sharpen and wrap it later then.  See you guys.”

“Bye, bro,” Jake said cheerfully, “don’t get vaporized!”

Percy snorted and followed Grover out.  “That’s not a real possibility,” he said abruptly, “is it?”

Grover swallowed, and Percy didn’t need to have emotion sensing powers to see he was really nervous.  “Uh, well, if you’re very respectful and also he doesn’t have an order about it…”

Percy grimaced.  “Oh.  What’s this about?”

“He just wanted to talk!”

“A talk that might end in being vaporized.”

Grover winced at the deadpan.  “Probably…not?”

“Awesome,” Percy muttered under his breath, “I’ve always wanted to be vaporized.”

Mr. D didn’t even look up from his card game when they showed up.  “Oh, Grendel, you brought Peter.  Good, that means we can get this out of the way.  I would like to say again that spontaneous combustion is a painless way to go.”

Chiron sighed.  “Mr. D, spontaneous combustion is a form of harm, and you were tasked with protecting the demigods.”

“And it will be over in an instant, he won’t feel a thing,” the god waved him off, “but fine, I’ll tell you what, if he’s still here when I get back, I’ll turn him into an atlantic bottlenose and send him back to his father because clearly that’s what he will have chosen.  It will be better for everyone, and then Ariana can still visit him, for whatever reason she wants to.  You’ll see, Perseus,” he turned deep reddish purple eyes to him, “it’s the better option than the foolishness Chiron wants for you.”

The god stood and turned a playing card into what looked like a key card and the air rippled around him like he was walking through an invisible curtain.  The smell of pressed grapes flared before going back to the muted presence he could always sort of smell no matter where in camp he was.

“So,” he said dryly, “he didn’t vaporize me.  Yet.”

Grover bleated in annoyance.  “Percy, Chiron wasn’t going to let him vaporize you.”

“I’m not entirely certain Chiron could have stopped him.”

Chiron cleared his throat pointedly and they both shut up.

“There is an option that is not turning into a dolphin,” Chiron sighed, “but is most definitely more dangerous and more likely to kill you, or at the very least end in great suffering.”

“I love great suffering!”

“This is serious,” the centaur frowned, “please, Percy.”

He deflated.  “Sorry.  So what’s this option?”

“As you’ve seen,” he gestured outside, “the King of the Gods is quite angry due to a perceived theft.  At the winter solstice, all the gods, including the Lord of the Dead, gathered on Olympus for a meeting.  When they left that meeting, Lord Zeus realized he was missing his most important weapon - his lightning bolt.”

Percy frowned.  “How does someone steal a lightning bolt?”

“Capped with bronze at both ends, the Master Bolt can be picked up like any other object in its base form, but the gods cannot steal each others’ symbols of power.  Instead,” Chiron explained, “they can send champions to do it for them.  And we always have our year round campers visit Mount Olympus on the solstice, so he already suspected that his brother, Poseidon, had enlisted a mortal hero to steal it.  He believes that Poseidon has long coveted his throne as King of the Gods, but until now, he had no proof.”

Percy sat back on his heels.  “Until he claimed me.  Would he believe me if I said I wasn’t even on the east coast?”

Chiron looked pitying.  “Do you have proof?”

“I… saw Lacy and Gleeson in the middle of January, out in Mississippi?  I was in Louisiana last winter.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be enough.”

Percy huffed.  “So, what, my dad claims me in front of the gods and everyone, and suddenly I’m being accused of stealing something I didn’t know existed?  Awesome.  I’m so glad I got claimed.”

“Not like there was ever any doubt,” Grover grumbled, “with your waterworks display.”

“Well it was that or die, so.”

“Regardless, there is only one course of action,” Chiron continued, “you must go on a quest to retrieve Lord Zeus’ lightning bolt from the true thief and return it by the summer solstice, June 21st, or all out war will break out.”

Percy cocked his head as Grover jumped up and down slightly in excitement.  “It could be anywhere.”

Chiron shook his head.  “Who stands the most to gain if the two brothers fight?”

Percy grimaced.  “Anyone who hates the gods.”

Chiron hesitated, but conceded the point.  “If you accept, the Oracle awaits you in the attic.  If you are meant to go on a quest, you will return with a prophecy and your sanity intact.”

Percy reeled back at that.  “Oh.  Awesome.  Uh, okay.”

Grover gave him a nervous thumbs up and Percy went to find the stairs to the attic.  He pushed open the trapdoor and coughed a little in the dust.  The entire room smelled like ancient things and reptiles, and his eyes passed over the various trophies from previous quests before they alighted on a hippy mummy, perched on a three legged stool by the window.  The trapdoor slammed shut behind him and he sighed, but offered a little bow.

Green smoke and the sound of hissing snakes slithered through the air.

“I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Loxias Apollo, the intricate and ambiguous.  Approach, seeker, and ask.”

He took a deep breath and stepped forward.  “What should I do?”

The smoke poured out more and coalesced into six ghostly beings.  Kelli, Lacey, Tammi, Rachel, Silenia, and Bean.  They were sitting around a fire pit, like the one in the Montauk cabin.  One by one, they opened their mouths and the voice of the Oracle came out of them.

Rachel: You shall go west and face the god who has turned

Bean: You shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned

Silenia: You shall need to rely on the mercy of scorned

Lacey: You shall learn what it means for you to be born

Tammi: You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend

Kelli: You shall lose the protection with ignorance’ end 

He grimaced as the ghostly figures faded; clearly, the Oracle was done with whatever she needed from him, as she was slumped on that stool like she hadn’t been moved in centuries and wasn’t planning on it for centuries more.  Very carefully, he stepped back down the trapdoor to where Grover waited eagerly.

“You’re okay!  What did she say?!”

Percy hummed.  “Lots of ‘you shall’s.  Go west, face a turned god.  Find the stolen item, return it.  Need to rely on the mercy of scorned people.  Figure out why I was born.  Or, no,” he blinked, “not why, just what it means.  Uh, going to be betrayed.  Going to lose protection.  Overall, quest success, but I don’t have a good time.  Probably, I mean.”

Chiron frowned.  “What was the exact wording?”

Percy easily gave it over.  Was it nice?  No, not really.  But nothing in life usually was, and it was so vague it could mean a lot of things.  Maybe the betrayal was just… his mom enrolling him in school or something.

If he could find her.

Suddenly all his senses sharpened.  “Hey Chiron,” he cut into the centaur’s muttering, “has my mom called yet?”

Chiron’s eyes went sad.  He’d been asking for the past three days, but he got the same answer he always did.  “No, I’m sorry Percy.”

Grover took a deep breath.  “So.  The quest.  You’re going to succeed, that’s great!  Going to be betrayed by a friend, not so great!”  He suddenly looked nervous.  “I, uh, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to take me…”

Percy shrugged.  “Nah, it’s cool.  I don’t think you’ll betray me, but I also don’t think it’s worth really thinking about.  Plus, you literally cannot be worse than the people I hung out with before I got to camp.  They regularly tried to kill me and other demigods.”

They both looked a little green at that, but Percy plopped down in a chair.  “Okay, so we’re going west.  Where, specifically?  Or do we not know?”

“Well,” Chiron said, “when I was initially asking who benefits from the two brothers fighting, I had assumed you would reach the same conclusion I did, that is, the Lord of the Dead.  With war breaking out, his numbers would swell and his kingdom would grow.  In addition, he could then swoop in after the outcome and take the spoils.  Most believe that he resented being left with the underworld…”

Percy frowned.  That didn’t… that didn’t seem right.

“Question,” he said out of the blue, “horse and an eagle.”

Grover blinked.  “The… sacred animals of your father and his youngest brother?”

He hummed.  Based on the dream progression, that meant he’d seen both his father and his uncles. 

“Was it you?”

“No,” he muttered to himself, “but was it you…”   He shook his head and sighed.  “Okay.  Whatever.  Aim for the Underworld.  Which is where?”

Chiron blinked.  “I thought that would be most obvious.  Los Angeles."

Percy waved a hand.  “Why not.”

Grover whimpered.  “Are… are you sure?  I hear Maine is nice this time of year…”

Suddenly, Percy remembered his other dream.  “Denver.  I don’t know if we need to go to Los Angeles, but we do need to go to Denver.  I,” he looked at them, “I had a dream?”

Chiron relaxed.  “A demigod dream.  They happen most frequently when you should or are currently embarking on a quest.  Fortuitous.  What awaits you?”

“Someone who thinks we need more squash in our diet.  Grover,” he turned to the satyr, “I’m not going to make you go with me.  Outside sucks.  Based on the prophecy, it might suck even more than usual.  I can just beat up your dumb council instead if you’d rather.”

Grover bleated out a startled laugh before relaxing.  “No, I’ve committed.  Besides, I was out there looking for you for two years.  I’d like to keep you where I can see you for a bit, Perce.”

He snickered.  “Cool, can do.  Just us?”

“The traditional number for a quest is three,” Chiron intoned, “and while you are allowed to choose your questmates, there is a volunteer who would like to be considered.”

Percy reached over and plucked the hat right off of her head.  Annabeth immediately reached up with a snarl.

“Hey!”

He smirked.  “Come on, like you’re subtle.  Your hat doesn’t block anything other than sight, Chase.  You really want to go on a quest?  With me?”

She huffed, snatching her hat back from his relaxed fingers.  “You’re not incompetent.”

He whistled.  “Oh stop, you flatterer you.  You’re gonna make me blush.  That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

“It’s too late,” he shrugged, “I’m used to it.  If you don't compliment me every day now, I.  Am going.  To cry.”

She stared at him incredulously.  “That’s it,” she deadpanned, "I changed my mind, I don’t want to go.”

“Too late, no take backs.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“I prefer ‘sarcastic.’”

“Oh no,” Grover muttered, “this is going to be the worst.”

“You’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Chiron cut in with what suspiciously sounded like a laugh, “Argus will take you to the bus stop.”

Percy cocked his head.  “No flying because of Sky Guy?”

Chiron winced.  “He… does not take kindly to his brother’s children in his domain.”

Percy turned to Annabeth who, like Grover before, was mouthing ‘Sky Guy’ and staring at him in horror.  “You’re going to get us killed,” she breathed, “you’re impertinent.”

He shrugged.  “Not to name names… literally.  There has to be something like plausible deniability, right?  Even if someone decides to pay attention to us, there’s like, probably at least six potential Sky Guys.  For sure.  And clearly since we’re not using the right measure of respect, we must be talking about someone different!  It’s fool proof.”

“Please tell me you do not call my mother the Owl Lady.”

Percy blinked.  “Uh.  I also call her Olive Lady if that makes you feel better.”

“It.  No.  No it does not.”

“I’m sure Percy has terrible and offensive names for everyone,” Grover soothed(?), “including his father.”

There was a pause before Percy blinked.  “Oh!  Oh yeah, I call him Ocean Man.  Take me by the hand, something something probably sand…”

Annabeth pursed her lips.

“It’s a song,” he offered, “by Ween.  I don’t actually know any of the lyrics other than those ones.”

“You don’t even know those ones, you said “something something probably”.”

He hummed, tilting his head.  “You know, I think it’s not even sand.  Land?  Understand?  Huh.  I really don’t know the song.  It was also at the end of the Spongebob Movie that came out like two years ago.  That’s why it had a resurgence or whatever.  Why, do you want to hear my other names?”

Grover tried to muffle his laughter.  “Maybe later.  For now we should figure out what we need to bring and pack.”

Percy nodded solemnly.  “I’m glad Clarisse is going to get a chance to eliminate me before I go.  Let’s go get lunch!”

Annabeth blinked, following after them.  “Wait, what?  Why’s Clarisse going to kill you?  Did you do something to make her angry?  Percy?  Percy!”

He took off for the dining pavilion at a sprint.

“PERCY IF YOU GET KILLED BEFORE I CAN GO ON A QUEST I’LL BRING YOU BACK AND KILL YOU AGAIN!  YOU UTTER… SEAWEED BRAIN!”

Chapter Text

The sun had barely risen before there was a pounding on his cabin door.  He wrenched it open mid-knock and Annabeth blinked at him before frowning.  “We’re going.  Do you have all your stuff?”

He hefted his old backpack and the dufflebag sagged sadly underneath.

She squinted.  “Why are you bringing the dufflebag?  I thought you melted down all your terrible weapons.”

He shrugged.  “Yeah, most of them.  But I would feel weird not taking it on a cross country trek.  Besides, it still has my scraps and hammer, and a few spares, in case we encounter someone out there.”

And a minotaur horn, but eh.

“Think of it this way,” he shrugged, “you don’t have to carry it, so why do you care what I bring?”

She huffed.  “I just want to make sure you aren’t wasting space or energy lugging around defective weaponry that’s more likely to injure the wielder than the monster.”

He pushed past her.  “Glad we had this talk, really.  Are we going, or not?”

Grover met them on the hill, his own backpack full of what sounded like tin cans in hand.  Luke, Katrina, and Jake were also waiting, Luke with a shoebox and Jake with something long wrapped up in an oil cloth.  Katrina looked to be fiddling with her hands, but she lit up when she saw them.

“Oh man,” she laughed, “can I just say I’m really glad I decided to make something?  It would have been awkward if I had been the only one without something to give you.  It’s still something small, though, so I’m going to go first.”

Both boys sort of shrugged in amusement and she held out three things.

“I made you guys friendship bracelets.  It doesn’t mean much, but, well, Annabeth is basically our councilor despite being like, two, and Percy, you made sure I lived to actually make it here.  Grover, I don’t know you super well, but you seem like a good guy, sticking with Percy these past few days, and I also I, uh, didn’t want to leave you out.  So!  Matching bracelets.  Green for Grover, grey for Annabeth, blue for Percy.  Even if all your friends can’t go with you, at least you have each other.”

She stepped back, a tinge of pink on her cheeks, and Percy inspected the bracelet he’d already clipped onto his wrist.  It was made of paracord instead of the embroidery thread of a typical friendship bracelet, so it was thicker and sturdier.  It clipped on with a buckle and was just tight enough that it wouldn’t slip off.  She had used a pattern that required four colors, and the extra one was in their own, based on what she had said.

“Now I feel bad,” Luke laughed, “I only got something for Percy.  Grover has his pipes and Annabeth has her hat, so I figured, hey, Percy needs a magic item too.  So I dusted off these old things.”

He held out the shoe box and Percy opened it.  Two sneakers were nestled in the tissue paper, and one of the wing decals peeled off as he watched, fluttering in the lack of wind.  Percy knew they were Luke’s because they were saturated with that scent that was unique to him.

“Maia!  See, there go the wings, that’s how you activate or deactivate them.”

“Flying shoes,” Grover breathed, “those must have been a gift from your dad!”

Luke twitched a little.  “Yeah, but I already went on my quest.  They’d just been collecting dust under my bed anyway, so I figured, hey, why not?  Percy led us to victory twice, and while I know capture the flag is nothing like reality, it still counts for something, right?”

Percy sighed internally.  This guy had to not know what he said, because he had basically just said that Percy’s two victories meant nothing.

“Thanks Luke,” he said anyway, “I’m sure they’ll be helpful.”

“Wear em,” he beamed, waving as he left, “I gotta go check on my campers.  Good luck, you guys!”

Katrina nudged Jake.  “Well, don’t keep us in suspense, Mason.”

Jake chuckled and held out his bundle.  “Not really a gift, to be honest.  Well, I guess it is partially, because I did sharpen it for you…”

Percy ran a hand down the scabbard anyway, pulling the sword out a little.  It was his sword, the bronze mostly covered by the muted grey of the ash that had grafted itself to the cooling blade.  Unlike before the sharpening, it was smooth and had more of a matte tone.  He was curious to see if it would still glow in the dark like regular, uncovered celestial bronze.

“I’d completely forgotten,” he snickered, “thanks, Jake.”

“Couldn’t let you keep using your abomination- why are you putting it in the dufflebag.”

His snickers got louder.   “I’m used to my abomination.  I’m telling you, live combat is not time to test out a new weapon.  And I know you and Beck both said it was balanced, but I don’t believe you.  Or, well, my brain doesn’t.  If I get the chance, I’ll test it out and see if it’s something I can get over, but until that point, I’m going to keep using my terrible leg sword.  I think Kelli would secretly be angry if I didn’t…”

Grover was the only one who’d heard that last mutter, but he gave Percy a funny look.  Still, he didn’t comment on it, and Jake dragged Kat away with another wave and a shout of, “Good luck!”

Finally, Chiron approached them, in horse form.

“Percy,” he said solemnly, “while Luke’s gift was intended in good faith…”

Percy was already passing the box to Grover.  “Not a fan of flying, even without a territorial uncle.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow.  “When did you fly before?”

“Um.  Alabaster knows.”

She looked at him for another moment before rolling her eyes and huffing.  She turned on her heel and went for the van where Argus was waiting, disappearing inside.

Grover sniffed.  “You really want to give this to me?  Perce…”

He shrugged.  “Again, I can’t use them.  If that makes you feel less like this is charity, think of it like that.  Also, I don't want to give Annabeth the power to reach my head with her feet.”

“I hate to break it to you, but I’m pretty sure she can kick that high on her own.”

“Damn.”

Grover tightened the laces.  “Alright, let's try these suckers out.  Maia!  Wo-woah!”

He zoomed down the hill towards the van with a shriek, looking like a weedwacker on a sugar high; way too enthusiastic about movement and trying to shave the tops off of the grass.  He couldn’t help but smile.

“Luke did have a point,” Chiron said, “I would feel ill at ease if I let you on a quest at your age without some measure of protection,” he held up a hand to forestall any protests, “regardless of your experience.  You mentioned how every sword feels unbalanced?  Even the one you crafted?”

Percy sighed in frustration.  “Yeah.  And Jake and Beck say it’s fine, and anyone who holds it says it’s fine, but I just… for some reason it doesn’t feel like that.  I’m starting to think I’m just so used to something unbalanced that I’d never be able to tell.”

Chiron chuckled.  “Perhaps.  But perhaps not.  If you would, hold this.”

Percy looked at the pen with a frown.  It… had a smell.  Of sea breezes and eucalyptus and a sprinkle of stars.  Why was his sense of smell so weird?

“This isn’t a pen.”

Chiron shook his head.  “It is not.  Remove the cap.”

The pen grew into a bronze sword, blade like a leaf.  It was a few inches shorter than the sword he’d made, but a few longer than the one he usually used.

And it was utterly balanced in his hand.

He was definitely gaping like a fish, because Chiron’s smile grew.

“Anaklusmos,” he said, “forged in the sea.  I have often found that sea children require weaponry to be such for it to feel right in their hands.”

“So even though I, of the sea, made my sword, because it was forged on land and not in some salt water, it’ll feel unbalanced?  This is some fresh bullshit.”

Chiron frowned disapprovingly, but Percy could see that twinkle of amusement in his eyes.  “Just so.  And, in case you worried you would lose something so small, there is an enchantment on it that will return it to the pocket you place it in if it’s far enough away from you.”

Percy admired the blade for a bit longer, swinging it a few times and marveling at how right it felt in his hands.  It turned out, he would know a balanced blade if you stabbed him with it, but only if it was a seaforged blade.

“How does it turn back into a pen?”

“Cap to the tip.”

He should have guessed.  He slipped the pen into his pocket and finally took his old sword (which was so glaringly bad in the face of a balanced weapon it was laughable) and put it in his dufflebag.  He was sure Jake would be proud and relieved.

“Go forth with courage and good health,” Chiron intoned, “and may the gods speed your journey.”

Percy bobbed his head.  “Cool.  Uh, bye.”

When they got on the bus, Percy looked at Annabeth in askance.  “Where are you going?”

She frowned.  “The back of the bus?”

He slowly shook his head and sat in the very first seat.  “Not if you don’t want to get trapped.  Always be as close to the exit as possible.”

She sat down next to him with a huff, letting Grover take the aisle seat.  “This is ridiculous.”

“Aaaaand,” he said, “don’t stow your bag, be ready to bolt at all times.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Who’s the person who’s been on the run for the past five years?”

“Ugh.”

Of course, when the bus started making awful noises and smelling terrible, she was grateful they were the first ones off the bus and away from the rancid smell.

He sniffed surreptitiously before his eyes locked onto the three old ladies sitting by a fruit stand.  “Hmm.”

Grover looked over as well before going pale as milk.  “Oh no.  Please tell me you don’t see them.”

Annabeth sucked in a breath.  “Oh, we see them.  Di immortales, what are they doing here? ”

“Knitting socks,” Percy said with a frown, “but I’m not sure if they’re for bigfoot or a cyclops.”

“Percy,” she hissed, dragging him away, “stop looking at them!”

One of the old women took out a pair of sheers, and she froze solid, staring at them just as Percy was.

“Guys,” Grover sounded way higher pitched than usual, “can we please get back on the bus?”

The two demigods sucked in breaths in tandem when they heard the snip across the street and all the cars.  The electric blue yarn fell limp, and a breeze carried a scent over to him.

It smelled like sand.

The bus drew away, which shook Annabeth out of her tremors.  “Wait!  That was our bus!”

“Well, now it’s not,” Percy sighed, “but at least we still have our stuff.  Oh shit.”

They both turned to him.  “What?!”

He pointed.  “The old ladies disappeared.  So definitely our world and not just fruit grandmas.  In case that wasn’t abundantly clear before.”

“Percy,” Annabeth said, scandalized, “those were… those were the Moirai!  The Three Fates!  And we just watched them snip a string of fate!  That means someone is going to die, Percy!  Probably one of us, because why else would they show themselves to us…?”

“Oh man,” Grover groaned, "I knew this was a bad idea, why’d I let you talk me into this…”

“I did offer to just beat up your council, you could have stayed home.  Besides,” Percy shrugged, “we’re not going to die.  And if any of us are, it’s going to be me, remember?  Not that I want to, or anything, but I’m going to make sure you guys get home again.”

They looked at him for a moment with shocked expressions.  They’d never really seen him get that intense, he figured, but if there was one thing he was always serious about, it was keeping people alive.  He’d spent so long surviving and risking his own life to make sure demigods made it out alive, he wasn’t going to change any time soon.  Especially not after…

He hefted his bag.  “Let’s walk.  We’ll either need to hitchhike or find a place to stop.  It’s only 4 in the afternoon, so we have time before it gets dark, even if it's still super cloudy.  If all else fails, we can make camp in the woods and just start heading west in the morning.”

What he wouldn’t give for Bean right now.  Granted, Annabeth would probably try to kill him, but he was decently sure he could stop her before she killed his dog.  Huh, maybe he should brief them before his regular cohort of monsters showed up…

They walked for about an hour before the smell of burgers wafted through the air.  Percy stopped dead.

Annabeth sighed. “Burgers…”

“Um, guys?  Why are we stopping?”

Percy’s stomach rumbled as if on command and he grimaced.  “The one flaw with eating often,” he grumbled, “is that you become used to eating often.  Well, we have money…”

Annabeth nodded rapidly.  “And we’ve been walking for a while, it’d be nice to sit down, grab some food, maybe ask for a map.  And if it’s a well known place, maybe someone will see three children who need help getting to their parents and give them a hand!”

Grover looked around nervously.  “I… don’t think we’re close to a town, though.  There won’t be many patrons…”

Percy shrugged, starting to walk.  “Then we get a map.  Maybe directions.  Maybe a clue.  I dunno, dude, but I think I can fool a few mortals.”

Grover frowned.  “Fool them into what?”

“Not… reporting me?  I am still technically a missing child, even if my pictures are years out of date.  My mom didn’t cancel the report ever because one, she wanted to find me, and two, she hasn’t exactly been home yet.  Also probably the fact that then they’d ask her to produce me and have me sit for testing or whatever.  And, uh, I ain’t about that life.”

“Missing posters later, food now,” Annabeth demanded, stomping past him, “if I’m going to deal with you more I need a barrier of fast food.”

“Just because it’s burgers doesn’t mean it’s fast food,” he pointed out as he followed, Grover trailing behind and fiddling with the scythe tied to his waist.

“It’s food that I want to eat fast.”

“Fair and reasonable, O paragon of wit.”

“Didn’t know you knew what those words meant, seaweed brain.”

“Hey, I’m not totally incompetent, remember?”

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Grover interrupted with a frown, “something about this seems off.”

Percy thought for a moment.  “It’s not a Monster Donut, if that makes you feel better.  That doesn't guarantee we won’t find monsters, but it’s a little early for us to be attracting them.  We can keep our eyes and ears open, but the fact of the matter is, we do need to eat.”

He sighed.  “Okay, but I reserve the right to say I told you so.”

“Sure, whatever,” Annabeth called, “now come on, we’re almost there.”

Percy leaned over to Grover.  “Hangry.”

The satyr snorted.  “One of these days, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“Hopefully not until the end of the quest.”

“Oh my gods don’t even joke about that.”

“You did it first!”

Annabeth was indeed correct, they very shortly came upon the place that Grover told them was called “Auntie Em’s Garden Gnome Emporium.”  The name fit, with the expansive yard utterly filled with statues.  For the most part, they ignored them, walking up to the building.  The “open” sign was lit up with neon and Annabeth led the way, pushing inside.  A bell rang.

“Why would a garden gnome emporium have food,” Grover grumbled and was ignored.

A veiled woman poked her head out of the back.  “Customers?  Oh goodness.  Where are your parents?”

“We were on a hike and got separated,” Percy said, “can we check out a map?”

“And possibly get some food,” Annabeth said hopefully, “if that’s okay.  We can pay!”

The woman hesitated for a moment before nodding.  “Yes, that’s alright.  I assume you smelled my own meal.  Are burgers alright for you all?  And fries and milkshakes, of course.”

“I’m vegetarian,” Grover raised his hand.

“Yes, of course, I do have a zucchini burger that my vegetarian customers have found quite delicious if you are interested in that?”

“Sure, that sounds great!”

Percy blinked.  Zucchini.  The cucumber squash.  He had to go see the ginger lady in Denver… after he ate.  He had time.

“You know,” he remarked, "I honestly only recently learned what a zucchini was.   Does it really make a good burger substitute?”

The woman called back from the kitchen.  “Substitute?  No.  But on its own it's a very flavorful vegetable, and if you add the right spices it can really shine as its own thing.  I would never say a zucchini burger is comparable to a regular beef burger, though.  Is strawberry alright for the milkshakes, or…?”

They looked at each other and shrugged.  “Whatever is easiest,” Percy called back, “we don’t mind.”

There was the buzz of a blender before she came out, trays loaded with two burgers, a zucchini burger, fries, and three strawberry milkshakes.

“Oh you’re so sweet,” she said, voice warm, “it wouldn’t have been too much trouble to make a different milkshake, you know.  It’s just what I had made for myself, so I had the supplies out already.”

“No worries at all,” he insisted, “if we’d had an issue with it, I can assure you, we would have said something.”

Percy most assuredly would not have said something.

“Besides,” Annabeth said, taking a sip, “we live near a strawberry farm, so if we didn’t like strawberries, we’d be in trouble.  Oh wow, this is great!”

Aunty Em was silent for a moment.  “I’m glad.  Grover, dear, how’s the veggie burger?”

Grover nodded enthusiastically.  “Gweat!”  He swallowed.  “No really, this is amazing, I love what you did with it!”

Percy was halfway through his own burger.  “You must get a lot of customers just for your food,” he mumbled after clearing his mouth with a sip of the very excellent milkshake, “this is some of the best stuff I’ve had in ages.”

She laughed, the veil shifting with the movement.  “Oh, you’re just so sweet.  Unfortunately, no, I don’t have many visitors at all.  Aunty Em is all alone, ever since my sisters…”

Percy’s heart panged.  “I’m so sorry.”

She waved her hand.  “I’ll see them again some day I’m sure.”

Percy polished off some more fries.  “So how much for the awesome food?”

“Free, but,” she raised a finger to forestall the instant protests and suspicion, “you have to pose for a picture.  I don’t get many models, especially not children.”

He took a moment to look around.  The statues scattered around, even inside, were all incredibly realistic.  “You have a lot of talent,” he remarked.

“Thank you, Percy, that’s very kind of you to say.”

Annabeth looked up.  “But the faces…”

Her nails clicked onto the table.  “Yes, I’m well aware, thank you.  Something about the faces just never turns out right.  Which is why I’m always so eager for new models, just in the hopes I can get it this time.  I would like it if my guests looked a little less terrified.”

Grover blinked.  “Uh.  That statue looks just like my Uncle.  M-Minus the horns and goat legs, obviously.”

“Oh,” she cocked her head, “does it?  What a coincidence!”

Grover set down his milkshake.  “I hear hissing.”

She clicked her tongue and stood.  “I must have left the oil on.  Good catch, Grover, let me go handle that now.  I’ll also get my camera!  You will pose for the picture, won’t you Percy?”

He nodded.  “Sure.  Do you also have a map?  So we can go find our parents.”

She hummed.  “I do.  I’ll get it out after the picture.”

Annabeth was frowning after her.  “Something isn’t right about this.”

Peryc hummed.  “I mean, it’s just a picture.”

She looked at him sharply.  “Is it?”

He shrugged.  “If I could pay for every meal with literally a single picture then I absolutely would. We have, what, $200?  To get all the way to Denver, when we’ve already lost one ride?  Yeah, I’m going to save money where I can.  And remember, the only person who has told-you-so rights is Grover.”

Aunty Em stepped back out with a digital camera in her hands.  “Are we ready?  We don’t want to lose the light, let's go outside now… We’re lucky the weather has been so warm, the nights aren’t as frigid.”

“Yeah, other than the storms,” Annabeth grumbled.

“Summer storms are typical, but this one has gone on for a while.  What a temper…”

She sat them on a bench, Percy in the middle, and raised the camera.

“Oh,” she sighed in exasperation, “drat, I can’t see the screen with this veil.  One moment, dears, keep looking up…”

Annabeth started fidgeting and edging away, hand going for her knife.

“I don’t know if this is a good time,” Percy said suddenly, “but could I have your autograph?”

Everyone froze.

“Actually,” he cocked his head, looking away from her, “this might be the best time, because I assume you taking off your veil means we’re about to fight.  Best to get everything else out of the way first…”

Annabeth sprung to her feet.  “You know?!”

He shrugged.  “Her snakes move.  Anyway, ma’am.  Autograph?  Actually, it should probably be two, I originally just wanted one for my friend but now that I’m thinking about it I kind of want one too.  Wait, is that weird?  That’s weird, isn’t it?”

Aunty Em shook herself, but didn’t lift her veil off.  “I’m sorry.  You… know who I am.”

He nodded.  “Medusa.”

“And you… want an autograph?”

“Two!  One for me, too.  Actually, might as well make it three, Kelli would kill me.”

She let out a breath that turned into a laugh, but set her camera down.  It wasn’t even on.  “Oh, what a sweet child.  You do realize I wanted to turn you three into statues, yes?  Of course, if you did try to fight, you’d likely die.”

“Wanna bet,” Annabeth bit out, “all we have to do is not look at you.”

“Be quiet,” Medusa snapped, “the more I have to listen to you, the more I want to smash you to pieces.  You have your mother’s eyes.”

She sighed, relaxing again.  “I don’t… an autograph?  Really?”

Percy nodded, swinging his legs back and forth and looking at her previous victims.  “This is… probably news to you guys too, but uh, when I was out on the run for five years, I made some… unconventional friends.  One was a… missionary, is the best way to put it?  Silenia was usually fine with a lot of things, but she really didn’t like it when you insulted her Lord and Savior…”

Medusa cocked her head.  “A Christian?”

“Ah, no, that would be our Lord and Savior, Lady Echidna, Mother of Monsters.”

Grover swallowed.  “When you say unconventional…”

“Uh, well, Silenia is a dracaena.  Hence why I think she’d really like an autograph from one of the most famous snake themed monsters, Named or otherwise.  I’m also friends with two and a half empousai and a hellhound.  Well, the hellhound is more like my dog, it's not like he can talk in any way I can understand.  He’s probably going to show up soon for more training.  Figured I should warn you guys.”

Annabeth stared.  “Monsters.  You’re friends with monsters.”

He shrugged.  “Better than dying.”

“And when, exactly, were you planning on warning us of this?!”

“Preferably before you killed them.  I mean, yes, most encounters end with them dead eventually, but that’s after we talk.  And it’s mostly for training anyway.”

“So you’re not scared of me,” Medusa said slowly, “because you’re often friends with monsters?”

“Oh no,” Percy waved his hands, “I’m utterly terrified.  I’m pretty sure you’re more likely to actually kill me than any of my friends.  I mean, you’re incredibly strong!  My namesake, a pretty decent hero with not one but two magic items, he had to kill you when you were asleep!   Pretty sure I can’t do it while awake.  Granted, there’s three of us, but I’d rather not.”

“I’ve killed dozens of people and creatures,” she pointed out, “including Grover’s uncle.  Sorry, dear.”

Grover whimpered a little and buried his head in his hands.

Percy cocked his head, looking at a fountain with what looked like a harpy on top.  “Are you trying to get us mad enough to kill you?”

“Usually being a monster would be enough for at least the attempt,” she said dryly.

“It will be,” Annabeth said darkly, “if Percy decides to stop being a traitor.”

“Shut up,” the other three said in unison, with varying degrees of hostility (pleading, from Grover, exhaustion, from Percy, and venom, from Medusa).

Medusa sat heavily on the bench across from theirs.  Granted, Annabeth was hiding invisibly behind a statue, and Grover had turned around bodily, but Percy hadn’t really moved, keeping his hands out and open.

“You…” she swallowed, “you really want an autograph?  Why?”

He hummed.  “Other than being a Named person of legend with a snake theme?  So, I, uh, well, I make it my business to know all the myths related to both my dad and my namesake, which you tick both, but Kelli has been on a, a feminism kick for the past two years, with music and lore and literature… It’s sort of bled over, but she was really into learning how women were treated before.  Now, she’s pretty much an eternal high school girl, but back then she usually posed as a lady of the night, since she’s been around for ages and ages.  One thing she really liked was how they used to use a motif of your head to mark what amounts to abused women’s shelters.”

He swallowed.  “I liked it too.”

She stood and walked towards him, sitting beside him.  He very carefully didn’t move until she held out her hand.  It was shaking slightly.  Very gently, he put his own hand in, and she grabbed on lightly to raise it up to touch her neck under the veil.

It was a mass of thick scar tissue, rough and jagged, from all the times her head had been cut off.

“Can you imagine,” she said, voice wobbly, “what it is like, for your face to be used as a weapon?”

Annabeth made a noise from behind the statue.  “You deserved it!”

Her grip tightened and Percy winced.

“Deserved it?”  Her voice was a hiss.  “I deserved to never be able to look anyone in the eyes ever again?  Oh, your mother might have framed it as a protection, but let’s not mistake it, this is a curse .  Would that I could pick and choose my victims, go after the right people, but alas.  I am never to gaze upon another again.  All.  Because.  Of her.”

Percy grimaced.  “Is it rude to ask which story is right?  It probably is.”

Her grip relaxed with her sigh.  “The things the stories are consistent with are all correct.  I slept with your father in Athena’s temple.”

“But… did you want to?”

She was quiet for a moment.  “A god asked for me,” she said quietly, “who would say no?”

He swallowed and heard the word that replaced would.  He felt his hand twitch on the ropy scar again.  She let him retreat.

“…People really used my face for shelters?”

He nodded.

“You’re also on the Aegis,” Grover said, “the shield, I mean.  Protection.”

She swayed a little in place.

“Let me get a map,” she said faintly, “and a pen.”

Medusa was slightly less shellshocked when she sent them off with containers of food, bottles of coke, some more money, and directions to the train line that would take them all the way to Denver, but she was still clearly in a bit of a fugue state.  Grover wisely kept Annabeth from talking, but she was clearly vibrating and just waiting for them to be alone.

They set up in their own car on the train and as soon as the door shut, she whirled on Percy.

“Monsters.  Percy, how could you?!”

He sighed in exasperation.  “Did you miss the part where I said it was better than dying?  Genuinely if they didn’t like me I’d be long dead.  Kelli, at the very least, is way stronger than me.  Even now, I think she could kill me.  At ten?  Nine?  Eight?   I’d be minced meat.  Or a dried husk, since, you know, vampire.  Tammi is her junior, she does actually try to kill me but it’s okay because she’s bad at it.  Lacey doesn’t care about demigods as much, she’s more interested in Bean and other deadly creatures.  Speaking of, Bean is just a dog most of the time and he’s only scarred me once which was my fault because I wasn’t taking him seriously.  He’s almost house trained!”

She stared at him incredulously.  “He’s a hellhound.”

“Yeah and he’s probably going to show up at some point so please don’t stab my dog until he’s ready to be stabbed.”

Grover let out a whine.  “Until he’s ready?”

Percy shrugged.  “Like I said, almost house trained.  But occasionally he gets anxious and tries to kill me.  Not super hard, but we’re still working on breaking that as a habit.”

“You’re insane,” Annabeth hissed, “a monster is a monster and it always will be!”

“Just like people can be monsters,” he said lowly, “monsters can be people, too.”

He turned to face the window, effectively cutting off the conversation with body language alone.

When he settled into an uneasy sleep, he found himself somewhere that was very, very dark.  So dark, he couldn’t make out hardly anything, except for the fact that he was standing on the edge of a pit that was even darker, the kind of endless black void that seemed to suck every other color in.  He could hear whispering around him, but couldn’t make out any words.

Well hello, a voice crooned, echoing far below him, the little hero.  Too weak, too young, but perhaps you will do.

Everything in his body rang with dread, but he couldn’t move.  Just like in his other more recent dreams, he could smell things, subtly.  Brimstone, acid, and something buried underneath the two he couldn’t detect but knew was there, itching the very edge of his mind.

They have misled you, boy, the voice continued, but I can give her back to you.  All you have to do is help an old man.

An image of his mom flashed before his eyes, locked in a scream of pain, looking directly at him with a pleading expression. His heart sank into his toes.  He had been right, something had happened to her.

The treacherous gods have her, the voice hissed, but if you bring me the bolt, I can free her!  Help me rise!

Something tugged at Percy, almost sending him falling into the pit, and the sense of vertigo woke him up.  He looked at the other two, still asleep, and swallowed.  He took out a coke zero from Medusa’s stash, twisting the black cap off and taking a few gulps of the soda.  It had caffeine in it, even if it wasn’t the full sugar, full calorie version he honestly preferred.  Well, beggars can’t be choosers.  He spent the rest of the train ride looking out the window.

The train took a stop in St Louis late in the afternoon, with about a three hour layover before it took them to Kansas City, then to Denver overnight.  All told, from St Louis to Denver, it would take almost eighteen hours for the train to get them there.  It was currently the 13th, so they still had over a week to get the lightning bolt, wherever it was, and then back.  It took about three days to travel from one side of the country to the other, so since they still had at least two days of travel there, then three days back, that left them with two days of wiggle room for… whatever came their way, assuming they did actually have to go all the way to Los Angeles.  All in all, not the worst thing in the world.  Truly, Percy could get used to travelling not by foot.

As the train pulled into the station, Annabeth stood.  “We should stretch our legs.  See the sights.  Do you,” she looked at him briefly before looking away, gulping, “do you want to come with me?”

Grover looked between the two of them nervously before taking a deep breath.  “Let’s go,” he said, “we could all use some fresh air, right, Percy?”

The satyr’s eyes were clearly begging for some grace, so he sighed.  “Sure,” he took the olive branch as it was offered, fiddling with the bracelet Kat had made him, “let’s go stretch our legs.  Anything in particular you want to do in our three hours?”

She watched him gather all of his things for a moment before turning her gaze out the window to the big building shaped like a shopping bag handle.  “Yeah.  I… I want to be an architect.  Build something to last a thousand years.  The Gateway Arch is one of the marvels of modern architecture, and this might be my only chance to see it for myself.”

Percy didn’t have any plans himself, but as they got closer and she began to ramble more about the height, the structural supports, the underground museum…

“Um,” he winced sheepishly, sending an apologetic look to Grover, “I think I’m just going to hang out in the park, if that’s okay.”

Annabeth stared at him before pursing her lips in hurt.  “Why?”

He grimaced.  “Tall.  Enclosed.  Underground.  Tiny elevator.  One exit.  Pick your poison, I guess.  I think it sounds really cool, but I'd be much happier looking at it from the ground.  You two should go, though.  I mean, you said it yourself; when are you going to get to do this again?”

She deflated.  “Right.  I should have known better.  We’ll see you later, then.”

She didn’t quite stomp away, but Percy figured it was close.  Grover looked between the two of them before sighing and following her, though not without making the “I’m watching you” fingers at Percy.  Maybe as a way to tell him to stay nearby?  It wasn’t like they’d probably be able to see him from that high up.  He shuddered just thinking about it.

The park was nice, though.  He found himself walking around nature trails, including some by the water features, where he spotted a few water nymphs lazing about.  They hadn’t spotted him, which was nice.  Some people were walking their dogs, or just walking around with their families.  Others were having picnics under the Arch itself.  Just looking up made him queasy, and he was twice as glad he hadn’t gone up there.

He looked at the Mississippi River.  It was… super wide, and churning with brown from all the rain that had kicked up dirt and silt.  Even if most of the storms were on the east coast, plenty of the country had gotten rain from the temper fueled storms, on either side of the argument, and at this point he was certain most rivers were on the verge of overflowing in some places, if they hadn’t already.

He wandered over to the south side of the park, and it was only long practice that had him dodging the shape that ran out of the shadow of the cathedral.

He grinned.  “Bean!”

His dog, easily larger than a great dane and up to his shoulders, gave him a doggy grin and wagged his tail, waddling over and sniffing all around Percy.  He rubbed the hellhound’s ears and face, squishing it in various directions, but Bean tolerated it with grace, trying to lick Percy’s fingers and face.  He leaned down with a sigh and buried his face in smoky fur that smelled of ash and shadows and night.  Bean allowed it for a solid minute before his muscles started twitching, and Percy sat up with a grin.

“Yeah yeah,” he chuckled, standing up and brushing dog slobber off, “you’re here to play, aren't you?  Not here to comfort me, noooo, that’d be too much work for his majesty.  Okay, let’s see…”

He dug around in his dufflebag for the chunk of leg he hadn’t managed to turn into anything.  It was decently solid celestial bronze with a good bit of leather wrapped around the middle.  Not that Percy had ever really found something that hellhound teeth could get damaged by, but it probably felt nicer to bite into something that wasn’t decently solid metal.  Turning the failed sword into a fancy stick for fetch?  Probably not something Kelli would appreciate, but it was easier than finding a stick every time and it could double as a blunt weapon in a pinch if needed!

He checked to make sure there were no people in the way and hurled the stick as far as he could, watching Bean bound after it in glee.

“Sometimes,” he grumbled to himself with a slight laugh, “I feel like I only got strong so I could throw that farther.”

“It was a good throw.”

He tensed and slowly turned his head to see a woman who was probably not actually a woman.  She was dressed in all denim, from her floppy hat to her bulging jean dress that was not flattering on her.  Her beady eyes were intelligent and vicious, and between that and her rhinestone-collared chihuahua, alarm bells were ringing in his head.

She set the dog down and patted its head before it started to grow in size, proving he was right, and soon it towered over him, foam dripping from black lips and sizzling where it hit the grass.  With the head of a lion, the body of a goat or a boar, and the tail of a snake head, venom dripping from fangs, it was clear.

Percy couldn’t move, eyes locked onto the creature.

“It’s not often Lord Zeus lets me test my brood against a hero,” she smiled, flicking a forked tongue between coffee stained teeth (probably not coffee, now that he thought about it), “you should feel honored, Perseus Jackson.  For I am the Mother of Monsters-”

“Our Lord and Savior, Lady Echidna,” he blurted, “holy shit, if I don’t get your autograph, I’m going to be turned into paste.”

Before the Chimera could decide to get started on that earlier, Bean came back, giving a warning boof.  The lion head looked at the hellhound before his gaze zeroed in on the stick and suddenly all the vicious rabidness was gone as he looked at what was definitely his mother and whined.

She shook herself out of her surprise and looked at him in disbelief.  “Sonny, we’re not here for that kind of enrichment.  I thought you wanted to destroy a nice young hero today?”

A hoof came up from the ground and scuffed it almost sheepishly as he whined again.  She sighed.  “Okay, but don’t exhaust yourself too much, who knows when we’ll have this opportunity again.”

Apparently decided, the Chimera then turned to Percy expectantly.  He looked at Bean, but the hellhound seemed to have no problems with this, dropping the stick at his feet and wagging his tail.  He gingerly picked it up and ignored the familiar and mild sting of the hellhound saliva before hurling it as far as he could away from both people and the water.

“Why on earth do you want my autograph,” she said as soon as they were off, “and why do you call me… your Lord and Savior?”

“This is even worse than last time,” he grumbled, knowing he was beet red, “I’m so sorry, I know you probably get that a lot-”

“On the contrary,” she said dryly, “I would say that’s the first time I’ve ever been asked for an… autograph.  That is the thing that celebrities do, yes?”

“Yeah it’s like, your signature.  Usually on a picture or with a message or something.  Are you sure you haven't been asked?  Because that whole Lord and Savior thing is from a friend of mine who talks about you for actual hours on end, I’m pretty sure to anyone she comes across.”

Echidna made a noise in her throat.  “That seems… implausible.  But I am glad that someone is recognizing my greatness.  And my terribleness.”

“Our Lord and Savior, Lady Echidna, Mother of Monsters, the Great and Terrible,” he nodded rapidly, “yup, that’s definitely you.”

She hummed, pleased.  “Excellent.  I’m glad someone is out there spreading the word.  Those horrid Australians, they named an animal after me, you know?”

He winced.  “Did they?  I mean, they do have all those deadly creatures, so I guess naming something great and terrible after you would make sense.”

“You’d think!  But no, those horrible little creatures,” she growled, “they named a puny anteater after me!  Do I look like I eat ants?!”

He shook his head slowly.  “No, my lady, not in the slightest.  They’re too easy to be prey for you.”

She harrumphed, folding her arms.  “Exactly.  Oh, look at that, they’re playing,” she cooed, and Percy eyed the hellhound and chimera playing tug of war with the celestial bronze stick.  He winced as the snake head tried to snap at Bean, but it seemed like more of a playful threat than a serious one, or maybe it just didn’t have the reach to actually get him.  Small mercies, because if Bean didn’t wear him out, Percy knew he’d be the next target.

“Who is this friend of yours,” she turned to him imperiously, “so that I may know who to make this “autograph” out to?”

He blinked.  “Uh, Silenia the dracaena.  She’ll be really excited, it might make her millenia, honestly.”  He briefly considered asking for one for Lacey, just because of the chimera definitely topping her charts as a dangerous monster, but it wasn’t like Echidna’s son seemed to be capable of holding a conversation, let alone a pen.

Echidna took a scrap of… was that skin?  Out of a pocket.  Honestly, Percy didn’t want to know.

“Do you have a writing utensil?  I suppose I could just use your blood…”

He swallowed.  “Uh, hard to get the autograph to her if I’m dead!  I also super have a pen!”

He pulled out Riptide and looked at it in confusion for a moment before he tried twisting the cap.  At first, it didn’t do anything, but then there was a subtle click.  He hesitated for another moment before pulling the cap off and holding it out.  It didn’t turn into a sword.  He carefully put the cap on the other end and handed it to her.

She scrawled something quickly before grinning with sharp teeth and handing both over.  He hesitated to take the thing, but eventually decided anything was better than dying.  He put the pen away, making it click back into “sword mode” or whatever, and carefully zipped the autograph into the same small section in his backpack that had the ones from Medusa.

“Lovely,” she purred, “I’ve never done that before, but I quite say I could get used to it.  Let me know if-”

She was cut off by a yelp, and Percy’s head shot up.  He didn’t even think, he ran forward to where Bean was on the ground.  The chimera had been looking quite smug, holding the stick aloft in his mouth, but then he dropped it, looking guilty as Bean whined and panted.

Percy reached with his powers as Bean looked up at him with wet black eyes, the tiny fires inside almost burnt out.  He quickly found the wound, weeping shadows and something acrid.

Venom.

He hushed and soothed with one hand while the other hovered over the wound, trying his best to coax the venom out.  He could feel Bean getting weaker under his hand, and he tried to speed up.

“You can’t save him.”

Echidna had a shrewd and piercing expression on her face that Percy couldn’t read.

“They don’t make heroes like they used to, eh, son,” she muttered, but before he could ask what she meant, she spoke louder.  “The poison is already in the dear’s heart.  Regardless, why do you try to save him?  He will reform.  They always do.”

Percy grimaced and yanked the rest of the poison out, soothing the quiet yelp with another pet.  “He’s in pain.”

“It would be kinder to kill him faster.”

Percy contemplated the venom he was holding suspended.  His head was starting to pound, but he didn’t want to just dump this in the water.  He took out his coke zero bottle and dumped out the last few sips before putting the chimera venom inside.  The plastic held just fine.  No wonder there was plastic everywhere, if it could resist this.  As soon as he released it, he let out a sigh of relief.  He screwed on the lid and set the bottle on the ground, focusing both hands on petting his dog, whose breaths were getting shallower.  Bean eyed him blearily and thumped his tail twice before he turned to golden dust with a sigh.  Percy swallowed.

“Do you, um, do you want this?”

She hummed, patting the chimera’s head.  “No.  Consider it your autograph.  Well, son, what did we learn?”

The chimera whined and huffed, but didn’t lunge for Percy.  He still kept his eyes up.

She smiled.  “Oh yes, most educational.  Well, best of luck, my little disciple.  Come along, son.”

The two of them walked away and Percy wobbled on his feet for a bit before sitting back, looking up at the sky and blinking back tears.  All his breath left him at once and his inhale was shaky.

That’s where Grover and Annabeth found him, about ten minutes later.

“We’ve been looking all over for you,” Annabeth started scolding, “where… gold dust.  What happened?”

He swallowed, looking out at the artificial pond.  “Got another autograph.  Got my dog killed again.  The usual.  Don’t drink that, by the way, you’ll die.”

Grover looked at the coke bottle with clear liquid in it and grimaced.  “It smells.  Like dog and snake and goat and lion.  Please, please tell me my nose is wrong.”

He shook his head.  “Met our Lord and Savior and her son.  They played fetch, we chatted about how famous she is and how Australia is a terrible country, but not a great one.  Her son bit my dog.  My dog died.  Oh, and apparently Sky Guy is the one who sent her to test us, me, because even though we’re literally on a quest for him, he hates us.”

He stood up.  “Anything else we want to do in St. Louis?”

Annabeth shook her head.  “No.  I… I’m sorry about your… dog.”

He sighed.  “Chances are, he still would have died, just, like, to me?  But…”

She shifted uncomfortably, even as they both started to walk back to the train station with him.  “I… I had a dog.  Before I ran away.  We went through dog training with him, and I loved him, even if sometimes he was a little scary because he was practically half my size and still an adolescent dog, so sometimes he’d be a little too rough.  I mean, that was why he was in dog training in the first place, you know?  My stepmom, she wanted to get rid of him because he could have hurt her sons, but my dad knew how much I loved him, so he made sure to pay for dog training.  He was almost done with it when I… ran away.”

“Guess not every dog can Homeward Bound to their owners,” Percy muttered.

She huffed.  “Not every dog can slip through shadows or revive every time they die, either.”

Percy waited until they were situated on the train before broaching the topic.  “Obviously you don’t have to answer if you don't want to,” he started, “but why did you run away at seven?  I mean, I did it at eight, and even at the time I think I knew it wasn’t exactly a smart decision.”

She flushed at the subtle implication.  “I told you before, right?  How not everyone has a parent like your mom?  My dad, well… he tried, I guess.  But opening his door to find a baby in a golden cradle one day?  Not what he expected.  He didn’t even want kids at the time, he was finishing up his thesis for his masters program, and suddenly he had a baby to look after.  When I was a little older, he got married and had twins with her.  I was just… the freak.  I’d panic every time I saw a spider, they’d bite me but by the time I went to show someone, all the marks had disappeared.  My stepmother, she thought I was a danger to her boys and made no effort to hide it.  Eventually, I couldn’t take it any more.  So I ran.  I wasn’t even on the streets for two weeks before Thalia, Luke, and Grover found me.”

Grover shifted uncomfortably.  “Yeah,” he swallowed, “that was me.  First assignment out, three kids.  And let me tell you,” he laughed nervously, “they were a handful.”

Annabeth shoved him lightly.  “Oh come on, I was a delight!”

“In the sense that I could feel myself going into de-light?  Why yes, yes you were.”

“Thalia was way-” she swallowed, boisterous tone going mournful, “way worse,” she finished.

“I still don’t get why neither of us counted as successful keeping missions,” Percy tried to lighten the mood, “like, you should totally have your searcher’s license by now.”

Annabeth nodded fiercely.  “Absolutely!”

“What are you searching for,” Percy titled his head, “I never really asked.”

Grover sighed wistfully.  “Pan, the Lord of the Wild.  Thousands of years ago, he disappeared, and we’ve been looking for him ever since.  More and more wild spaces are disappearing, and some people and nature spirits have given up hope.  Not us satyrs, though.  Granted, a lot of the time, it ends up being that we find demigods when we’re out and send them to camp, but hey, we’re searching until we die or we find him,” he sighed wistfully, “and I‘m going to be the one, I just know it.”

Percy breathed in, and for a moment, Grover’s goat and lanolin scent had an undertone of something crisp and cool, something fresh.  He hummed.  “I believe it.  If anyone can do it, it’s you, G-Man.”

“Yeah,” Annabeth nodded, “you’re the best satyr there is, and no crummy council should be allowed to tell you otherwise.”

The satyr gave a crooked smile.  “Thanks, guys.”

They ate more snacks and drank more drinks ( not from the chimera coke bottle) until the train pulled out of St Louis on the way to Kansas City, and then, Denver.

“I forgot to give you directions,” the woman grumbled as she put some drachma in a pouch and closed it.  It made a cash register sound and the box disappeared before she turned to Percy with a slight smile.

“Go to the gardens, nephew,” she said softly, “I’ll see you there.  And try not to attract too much attention coming in, hmm?”

She went to wave a hand to dismiss him, but paused. “She’s fine, by the way,” it was said almost idly, “your mother is a lovely woman, from the general grumbling of my husband.  Quite a feat, honestly.  I see what your father saw in her.”

He woke up with a fierce expression.

He didn’t know who this woman was, but she was about to find out exactly what he was willing to do to protect the people he loved.

Chapter Text

They got dinner from the train station, taking it with them right before it set off to Kansas City.  Annabeth produced a book of word searches from her bag and she and Percy poured over it, both determined to never talk about anything actually important.  Eventually, Grover looked over and pointed out how wrong they were.  Honestly, Percy was certain word searches were actually demigod torture devices.  Put any of the dyslexic kids in front of a word search, tell them they have to complete it or lose all their money, or something?  Every demigod would be broke.  Every single one of them.  Annabeth tried to stubborn her way through them for a while, until Percy leaned over and pointed at a cluster of letters.

“Fart.”

She stared at him incredulously before looking at the word search again.

“No way.”

At that point, the game turned into circling clusters of letters to isolate them and make words out of them.  They’d given up on actually solving the things and Annabeth had issued the challenge of using the entire board up.  It was hard, because then they really had to start with the letters like X and Z and Q to make sure they could actually get used.  They hadn’t quite managed it before they’d realized it was actually two in the morning, so they quickly turned off the lights to Grover’s thankful and asleep grumble, and turned in themselves.

They definitely looked like zombies in the morning when Grover accidentally woke them up by the clanking of the cans from where he’d tried to get himself a snack, but the environment felt way more relaxed, even with Percy’s second dream about the redheaded woman.

“Hey,” he said, “remember how I said we need to go to Denver?”

Grover blinked and shifted.  “Yeah, you said you had a dream about it.”

Percy nodded.  “Had another one.  Same woman.”

“What woman,” Annabeth frowned, “you never actually told us about this first dream either.”

He quickly explained the squash lady from both dreams, including all of her actions.  He couldn’t quite get all the wording from the first dream, since it had been a few days, but he felt like he was pretty close.

“Oh,” he frowned, “and I could smell her.”

The other two blinked, then looked at each other.  Grover bit the bullet.  “You could… smell her?”

He nodded.  “Fertilizer and flowers.  Felt like a demigod scent, but in a dream.”

Annabeth opened and closed her mouth.  “A what?”

He frowned.  “A… like how you smell like pencils and paper?  You and your siblings always do, plus old and new books, olives, olive oil, feathers, which I think is probably owls… It probably depends on your aspect.  Kat smells like oil and wood, which makes me think of looms.  Since she’s the weaver aspect.”

Grover immediately put a hand on Annabeth’s chest without looking away.  “What about the Aphrodite kids?”

Percy blew out a breath.  “I mean, you get it, right?  They’re definitely some of the weirder ones.  They have a perfume, either fruit or flowers, and then they smell like a love song!   Like, how is that a smell?!  I mean, at least it’s distinct, you’d never mistake them for anyone else’s kids.  Have you figured out what any of their songs are yet?  Because it’s always on the tip of my tongue, but I can never figure out the songs!”

Grover licked his lips nervously.  “No, I can’t either.”

Percy grinned.  “And you’ve been doing this twice as long as me,” he said smugly, “so clearly it’s not me… What were we talking about?”

Annabeth opened and closed her mouth a few times.  “You can smell demigods.”

Percy slowly turned his face to hers, brows furrowing.  The way she was saying it…

“So,” Grover interrupted his train of thought, “what did the woman remind you of?”

Percy hummed, looking up at the ceiling of the train car.  “I guess… I mean, the plant kids smell more like petrichor than she did, but obviously she rings of the plant kids.  Like, clearly.  You can’t get more “plant” than flowers and fertilizer.”

Grover’s face scrunched up as he thought.  “But can you smell demigods in dreams?”

Percy shrugged.  “I didn’t know you could smell in dreams at all!  I dunno, though.  I mean… she can’t be a demigod.  Which means…”

Annabeth blinked.  “She said she had a husband.  Oh my gods, we’re going to see the Queen of the Underworld.”

Percy’s face darkened.  “Which means,” he said lowly, “the Under Lord has my mom.”

“Woah, woah,” Grover quickly raised his hands, “but that means that uhhh the Lady Spring is feeding her above world food!  So she’s not trapped, which means they’re keeping her alive for some reason!”

Percy sneered, but Annabeth cut him off.  “So, we’re going to… you said the gardens?  I bet Denver has botanical gardens.  And she said something in the first dream about a house gift, to visit her husband.  So we’re going to the Underworld, but why?  I mean, other than getting Mrs. Jackson back.  Is it… a bargaining tool?  To get your mom?  What do they want?”

Grover sighed.  “We might just have to find out when we get to her in a few hours.  It’s not like she said anything in the dream other than falling for the Jackson charm.”

Percy cracked a grin for a moment before it fell into a flat frown.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“But why did they take her,” he whispered, “she was fine, she would have just been at home…”

Grover grabbed his hand and squeezed.  “We’re with you, dude,” he said softly, “we’ll get your mom and the bolt back.”

“Oh gods,” he huffed out a breathless laugh, “don’t even remind me about the bolt.”

Annabeth sighed.  “It’s only the main point of the quest,” she said sarcastically.

Percy waved the hand Grover wasn’t holding.  “Eh.  Details.  Remember, the prophecy literally said we’d get it returned safely.”

“Unless,” she sing-songed, “it wasn’t the only thing stolen.  Prophecies are tricky, seaweed brain.  Just because you think you know what they mean, doesn't mean you do.”

“Would this be a good time to review the prophecy?”  He hummed in thought.  “I mean… surely parts of it have happened.  Mercy of scorned, maybe?  Aunty Em and Our Lord and Savior and also her son?  I dunno if I’d count her son.  Definitely Aunty Em.”

Annabeth huffed.  “Line by line.  Turned god in the west.”

Grover shook his head.  “No idea.”

“Please,” Percy raised his hands together like he was praying, "please let it be neither of the people who currently have my mom.  Ok,” he lowered his hands, “next, stolen, returned.  Skipping that one, uhhh, mercy of scorned!  Still calling that one Aunty Em.”

Grover shrugged.  “Could mean more than one person, but that works for me, for now.”

Annabeth nodded reluctantly.  “It might mean something different,” she warned, “but fine.  You shall learn what it means for you to be born.  Other than the fact that you’re a forbidden child?”

She narrowed her eyes.  “Grover,” she said softly, “what were the epithets Chiron said for the Sea King?”

Grover thought it over in his head, then looked at her sharply.  “No.  Unless you want to have this conversation right here in the open, drop it.”

She glared, first at Grover, then at Percy.  “Fine,” she grumbled, “then maybe we need to talk to Mrs. Jackson for this.  She’d know, after all.  Next line.”

Percy looked between the two of them with a sinking heart.  Something was wrong, but he didn’t know what.  He swallowed as Grover said the next line.

“You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.”

He licked his lips and looked away.  “Let’s hold off on that one,” he muttered, “I’m sure it’s… not a big deal.”

Grover gasped.  “The wording on that… it’s not someone you call a friend, it’s someone who calls you a friend.  Oh.  That’s… worse.”

Percy gaped for a moment.  “So…” he swallowed, “so someone… someone’s my friend… and they still betray me?”

He didn’t look at Annabeth, but she was awfully quiet.

“The last line reminds me of the regular protections on demigods,” Grover broke the silence, “because one of the biggest things that keeps their scents under wraps for so long is them not knowing that they’re demigods.  As soon as they realize that our world exists, their scent gets stronger.  So even though you have known you were a demigod for a long time…”

He cocked his head as the train announced their stop coming up in five minutes.  “So… I’ll learn something that will take away some protection.  Not great,” he sighed, “but we knew that going in.  Man, this prophecy is full of suck.”

He stood, having used the time to busy his hands with putting away the small things he’d taken out for the journey, and walked out as the train pulled into the station.  The other two scrambled a little, but it wasn’t like they’d dumped the contents of their bags in the compartment, so soon enough, they were all standing in front of an information board.  The bottom had brochures for various places that Grover started to search through while Annabeth and Percy read the map.

“Got it,” she pointed, “Denver botanical gardens, Cheesman park.”

Percy couldn’t help but snort.  “Do you think someone from Wisconsin named it?”

She sent him an exasperated glare before looking away hurriedly.  Grover straightened, holding up a brochure triumphantly.

“Bus lines,” he beamed, “so we can actually get there today instead of in six years!”

Percy waved his hand.  “Psh, a little walking never hurt anyone.  Arguably, it helps.”

“Arguably,” Annabeth said dryly, “there’s a short walk after the bus ride.  That will have to do, I’m not walking an hour.”

“You have grown weak and feeble,” Percy affected an old wise person voice, stroking his imaginary beard, “you need more training.  Perhaps you were let out too soon, if an hour’s walk makes you baulk.”  He brightened and his voice went back to normal.  “Hey, that rhymed!”

She rolled her eyes, but was smiling slightly, so he counted it as a win.  She ended up dragging them off to the bus stop anyway, and they got on, dishing out some more of their dwindling funds.

“Hey,” Percy dug around in his bag, “we have about enough money for a meal, but we also have some snacks to finish.  I drank all the coke zero, so if you see a bottle with a black lid, it’s definitely the chimera bottle.  Wait, I got it, just don’t go digging through my bag.”

Grover pursed his lips.  “I mean… she might feed us?  She’s feeding your mom.”

“I don’t know how she’s going to cook in the botanical gardens,” Annabeth pointed out, “and I’d prefer we don’t potentially eat the only thing keeping Mrs. Jackson alive.”

“I could wait to eat for an hour or two,” Percy shrugged, “so we can always go talk to her and then eat after?”

Grover squinted.  “She wouldn’t… immediately send us to the Underworld or anything, would she?”

“No,” Annabeth shook her head, “she’d have to have an entrance, wouldn’t she?”

“She’s the Queen of the Underworld,” Percy pointed out, “I bet she could express ship us if she really wanted to.”

Grover took out his last three cans.  “Lets… keep our snacks.  Just in case.  And if we get fed, great!  I’m sure she’s an awesome cook!  And if we don’t, then we have some snacks to tide us over in case we, uh, can’t eat later.  For whatever reason.”

He looked a little green at the thought, and also white at the same time, so Percy gave him a few pats on the arm and put his bag away.  He also gave the mostly empty dufflebag a pat.  It had his one good forged sword, three leg swords of middling length, the fetch stick, his hammer, the minotaur horn, and some metal and leather scrap.  In his regular backpack, he had two changes of clothes (so, all of his clothes), the last of his money which amounted to $22, 40 golden drachma, a bag of baby carrots, two bags of Sun Chips (Apollo branded), one small bottle of regular coke he had been saving, their very small flask of nectar, four squares of ambrosia in a ziploc baggie, a map of the US, his mother’s quilt that he always slept wrapped up in, and the autographs.  He knew Grover was almost out of cans, but had the shoebox that had held the flying shoes, which were on his feet, his panpipes, another 20 drachma, and a pouch of strawberry seeds.  Annabeth had however much of her money she had left, the other 40 drachma, four more squares of ambrosia, and whatever else she’d packed.  Definitely some books, for reading and for puzzles, and some clothes.  A raincoat, he thought, and her invisibility cap.

All in all, they were decently equipped for some short term survival, if it came to it.

They arrived at the gardens , which had a short entrance building, only a story tall.

Grover stopped short.  “There’s an admission price,” he said miserably, “$11.50 per child.”

“Members are free,” Percy pursed his lips.

Annabeth grimaced.  “We’re not stealing from people to get into the gardens.  Our Lady Spring might reimburse us, though, since she wanted us to meet her here in the first place.”

The way she said it, it sounded like a threat.

Percy grabbed her arm when she started to move forward.  “Wait.”

She whirled around to yell at him, but stopped when she saw where he was looking.

A group of kids all wearing the same shirt.  A camp or club or something.

Percy nodded, took a deep breath, and snapped.  Both Annabeth and Grover’s heads snapped towards him, but he was already moving to integrate with the group and they quickly followed.  He smiled aimlessly at the adults and their eyes passed right over the three of them.

“Where did you learn to do that,” Annabeth breathed at him, “and how long will it last?”

He shrugged.  “My sister, and as long as they can suspend their disbelief.  Act natural, you’re part of the club.”

She looked at him incredulously.  “We don’t have the uniform!”

He grinned at her.  “Yeah, but we have a uniform.  I can change our shirts a little.  We’ll be fine.”

Grover snorted out a bleat of laughter.  “Aren’t you glad it’s summer?  Neither of you would blend in with a school group, since you haven’t been in school for ages.”

Annabeth huffed.  “We learn just fine at camp!”

Percy raised a hand.  “I’m not going back to school and you can’t make me.”

She whirled on him.  “Education is important-!”

He snickered quietly and avoided her swats.  They got handed their tickets and were escorted past the welcome building to the gardens themselves.  There were a few buildings on the grounds that probably also held some plants, but most were outside, and they must have either thrived in the heat or been well watered, because Colorado in the summer was hot.

“The last time I was in this state,” Percy grumbled, “it was March, so the weather was much more reasonable.  Now, if I were a goddess, where would I be?”

They all looked at each other.

Grover coughed.  “Can you, uh, smell her?”

Percy gave him an incredulous look.  “Fertilizer and flowers?  In a garden?  G-Man, please.”

Annabeth sighed.  “Okay, well, you know what she looks like, so let’s follow our camp group before the mortals take notice and their disbelief becomes unsuspended.  We can look for her as we go.”

Grover brightened up considerably at this idea, and really seemed like the kid who was getting the most out of this for their entire group, the trio and the mortals.  Eventually, they drifted apart from the mortal group, since the kids were kind of spreading out anyway, and just meandered down the paths, looking at all the plants.

Finally, Percy stopped.  “Fertilizer.”

Grover snorted.  “In a garden?  G-Man, please.”

Percy rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and walked past a sign that said “Romantic Gardens” (probably) and around a bend with big bushes lining a wall on the right.  It opened to a small circular pond that the path curled around, and at the zenith of the bend, three benches separated by flower pots.  Sitting on the middle bench, close to a flowerpot, sat Persephone, Queen of the Underworld.

She didn’t look like it.

She was wearing a blue and green sundress with sunflowers embroidered on the hem, and her eyes were closed.  One arm was across the back of the bench and the other was in the flower pot.  No one looked at her funny, or got close to her at all.  Her long brassy hair was done up in a loose braid and trailed down almost to her waist.  When they got closer, she opened vivid green eyes and smiled at them.  She patted the back of the bench.

“Come sit,” she said breezily, “it’s a lovely day.  Have you been enjoying the gardens?”

Grover nodded rapidly and beamed.  “This place is great!  I really like the sections that had the native species!  They were great to learn about!”

They all squished onto the bench.  There was just barely enough room to not be on top of each other and also not touching her.  Percy ended up in the middle, with a questmate on either side.

Persephone smiled at them again before looking back at the gardens.  “You should check out the water gardens before you leave, Perseus,” she hummed thoughtfully, “they’re all in a stretch behind us.  Take that path and go right, you can follow the path to see all three.  Quite lovely, really, you’ll appreciate them.”

He nodded slowly.  “Sure.  So… why’d you call us, my lady?”

Annabeth elbowed him, but he ignored her, carefully looking at the goddess out of the corner of his eye.  Sitting this close, he should have been able to smell a lot more, but mostly he could smell pencils and goat.  Whatever brief flare she’d done to draw their attention, she was masking her presence now.

She hummed.  “I need you to retrieve something for my husband.  He was very kind, picking your mother up before something unfortunate could befall her.”

“What, like getting kidnapped?”

She smiled at him mildly, her dark red lips never faltering, but something in her eyes flattened.  “We need you to get something for us.”

“No disrespect, but we’re kind of in the middle of something.”

“I know,” she sounded amused, “this is to help you.  In return, you’ll get what you want, safe and sound.”

He narrowed his eyes.  “What I want? Or the quest target?”

She laughed.  “Both.  My husband has what you want in safekeeping, and we know where the bolt is.”

He scowled.  “Then why aren’t you getting it?”

“We can’t,” she said dryly, “the person who’s holding on to it has it in such a way that he has to give it away, or you’ll never even see it.  On top of that, if I went after it, it would spook him, and he also has what we need you to get.  So we don’t want him spooking.”

Annabeth bit her lip.  “Who’s… he?”

Persephone sighed.  “My brother.  The angry one.”

Percy gaped.  “The War Lord?”

“The very same.”

Grover gave a strangled bleat.  “Why did the War Lord steal the bolt?!”

Persephone shrugged.  “I don’t think he did.  Gods can’t steal each other’s symbols of power, not directly, and he was sent out to find the thief with all the rest of my father’s children.”  She looked at them.  “Not me, I’m out of his jurisdiction now.  But somewhere along the line, he probably caught the actual thief and took both stolen items.”

Annabeth straightened.  “Both?”

The goddess grimaced.  “Your job is simple,” she started, “wander into the city, and as soon as you’re out of my sphere, he’ll know you’re in the area and find you.  Maybe go get some lunch.  He’ll give you a task, you need to complete it.  Then, when you return successfully, he will be distracted.  That is when you will get my husband’s helm.”

“Two symbols,” Grover moaned, “the thief took two!”

“Makes me wonder why they didn’t go for the trident,” Annabeth grumbled, “but then again, it's hard to blame the Sea Lord if his stuff was also taken.”  She blinked.  “Wait, but no one knows the helm is stolen!”

“And we’d like it to stay that way,” Persephone said firmly.

Percy pursed his lips.  “Won’t the War lord notice if his stolen item is, well, stolen again?”

“Not if you replace it,” Persephone held up a finger, “at least, not immediately.  Especially not if it’s a comparable item that I bless with Underworld magic.”

Percy slowly turned to Annabeth, who was staring at the goddess in disbelief.

“No,” she cried, “that’s, you can’t!”

“Well,” Persephone shrugged, “then Percy doesn’t get his mother back.”

He instantly hunched over, sucking in a sharp breath.  “That’s not fair,” he croaked, “you can’t…”

‘You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,’ hissed the Oracle in his head.

‘Shut up,’ he hissed back.

“We wouldn’t mind,” she continued, “she’s a delightful woman.  It is highly possible she would try to fight us to get free eventually if we kept her for too long, but I’m sure that would be after I return, so I’d get to meet her in person before things got drastic.  If all else fails, there’s always the pomegranates.”

“Okay,” Annabeth burst out, “I get it!  I’ll… I’ll do your stupid trade.”

Persephone blinked.  “You don’t have to,” she said innocently, “I’m sure if you’d rather fight my brother for the helm, he’d be more than happy to oblige.”

Annabeth dug in her pocket and thrust the Yankees cap forwards.  “Do whatever you need to do,” her voice shook, “let's get this over with.”

The goddess took the hat and ran a hand over it.  The smell of flowers in the air rotted for a moment as her eyes flashed with a different sort of green and Percy could have sworn he smelled the first smell of winter, that sharp smell that just meant cold.  The moment passed and it was as if the gardens hadn’t changed at all.  The smell of sweet decay and cold stayed on the hat she passed back and Annabeth tucked it out of sight, standing abruptly.

Percy and Grover stood to follow her as Persephone lounged back, smiling pleasantly.  “If you’re back before five,” she called, “you can send something in the care package!  Oh, and don’t let my brother know you talked to me, or you’ll give the whole game away.  My brother is many things,” she snorted, “but he isn’t stupid.”

Annabeth practically stormed out of the gardens, the boys speedwalking to keep up with her, and she dashed away tears as she came to a stop on the other side of the street.

“It’s just a stupid hat,” her voice was thick, “it doesn’t even matter.”

“It’s not just a hat,” Percy argued, “anyone with two brain cells to rub together can tell it’s not just a hat, regardless of any invisibility powers it holds.  I think you look great in that hat!”

She fixed him with a deadpan glare, but at least she wasn’t crying anymore.

Grover fidgeted.  “It… was a gift from your mom, right?”

Percy sighed mentally as her face screwed up again.

“Yeah,” she said, “it was… a sign that she was paying attention.  Not every child gets favored with a magic item.  It meant she was proud of me.  That I was doing good.   And now…”

“We’ll think of another way,” Percy declared, “no one has to give up anything.”

“You’re not fighting the war god,” Grover groaned, “you can’t solve all your problems by fighting them!”

“I know,” Percy nodded, “but do you think asking him for his autograph would work?”

Annabeth burst out laughing, and he grinned.  “I’m serious,” he pressed, starting to walk back to the known bus station, “it’s worked like, twice now!  What’s that thing they say, once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is a… pattern?”

“Enemy action,” Annabeth shook her head, “three times is enemy action, that’s the original quote.  It’s from a James Bond book.  My dad would read them sometimes, when he wasn’t reading war nonfiction.”

“But the autograph thing is preventing enemy action,” Percy pointed out, “but I guess maybe from the perspective of the people who would usually try to kill me…?”

Grover perked up as he looked at the nearby buildings.  “Let’s talk about all the people who want to kill you over falafel!”

He led them to a Mediterranean restaurant, professing they’d have to like it, since it was their roots.  Percy had never really had greek food before, despite seeing some establishments that offered it, because… well, he usually didn’t have many options for food, when he could afford it, and it was actually more cost effective to buy ingredients like peanut butter and jelly, and bread, than it was to go out to eat at a restaurant.

They all got gyros.  Grover, of course, got a falafel one, explaining that the protein was in the fried spiced chickpea patties, and he loaded it with hummus, tzatziki, tomatoes, pickled onions, lettuce, and olives.  Annabeth got it with traditional gyro meat, a mix of beef and lamb in flat strips, with extra olives.  Percy decided to try the falafel, but without the olives, instead putting on some cucumber.

They’d barely taken three (delicious) bites when someone sat in the last seat in their booth, next to Annabeth.  They all tensed and Percy choked a little as the smell of blood and cumin and boar and dog flooded his senses.  His hand flew to his nose.  It was shaking, with an emotion that was quickly bubbling up.  He tried to calm down, knowing this was what they’d been waiting for.

“Well,” Ares said gruffly, “not the kinda joint I’d pick.  And two of you are eating plant food?”

Percy huffed, muffled by his hand.  “Isn’t this food you recognize?”

The god shrugged.  “True.  But I’ve embraced American culture.  Can’t beat a good burger.”

Privately, Percy agreed, but this god rubbed him the wrong way.  “It’s delicious.”

Ares snorted.  “Sure it is.  Listen, usually I wouldn’t ask one of old Barnacle Beard’s kids, and I definitely wouldn’t ask one of Owl Face’s,” his eyes flashed red behind the sunglasses, shattering the biker facade he was putting out, “but when you need a brat for a quest, and you kiddos are the first questers in five years…”

Percy ground his teeth.  The smell of cumin was still sharp, no matter how much he tried to breath through his mouth.  He felt like he was going to sneeze.  “We’re kind of in the middle of something.  Trying to find your dad’s bolt?  Ringing any bells?”

Ares grinned, showing teeth stained with the reddish brown of old blood that he remembered from Echidna.  “Sure,” he said easily, “but you can take a few hours to do me a favor, right?”

Annabeth was looking at him with wide eyes, but Percy saw red.  These gods, both of them, thinking they could jerk Percy around.  He was starting to doubt Grover’s claim that camp was safe, because they’d just sent him out in the world again; with supplies, sure, but also with a massive influx of responsibilities, ones he didn’t ask for.  They thought that just because they were gods and he was “officially” acknowledged that they could use him as their errand boy, to do meaningless tasks they couldn’t be bothered with.  The first god to assign him a task had helped kidnap his mother!  Why should he do anything she said?!  And this one, according to said kidnapper, he had two stolen items from other gods, and instead of returning them, he was content to sit back and let Percy take the blame!  When he’d had nothing to do with anything!  The audacity to ask Percy for a favor, after insulting him to his face.  And, of course, since he was a god, if Percy refused, then he’d be punished.  Disregard that he’s busy, doing a task to clear his name.  Disregard that he’s not even thirteen yet.  Disregard that he’s been entrusted with the lives of two other people that he needs to keep alive no matter what.

“Can you stop that,” he ground out, finally giving in to the urge to sneeze, “I’m getting a headache.”

Ares looked at him curiously for a moment before laughing, aura and scent receding.  “Well,” he chuckled, “it's been a while since Uncle P had one of you.   I wonder if you’ll turn out like the last one.  Careful, boy, she insulted a son of the King too.  Anyway,” he leaned back, “my task.  I took my girlfriend to a concert nearby.  Small hole in the wall, you know?  Not the Fillmore, that’s too big.  The Ogden Theatre.  Problem is, I left something inside.  Need you to go get it for me.”

“Of course, Lord Ares,” Annabeth said quickly, before Percy could open his mouth to tell him where to shove it, “can you give any more direction?”

The god snorted and waved his hand.  “Sure.  It’s thattaway.  Can’t miss it.  Meet me back here, and I’ll even reward you.  Passage west.”  His sunglasses slipped down and he fixed them with fiery red eyes.  “You’re heading out to old Death Breath, right?”

Percy took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  Best lead we have.”

He grinned.  “Then I’ll arrange a ride for you.  I’ll even throw in some information for free.  How about it?”

“Deal,” Annabeth said.

Percy pursed his lips.  “Fine.”

“Great,” Grover managed to squeak out.

The air heated up and he left them to their meal.

“I can only smell cumin,” Percy groaned as the angry tension left his shoulders, “couldn’t he have at least let us finish eating?!”

He angrily took a sip of his water, hoping it would clear the clogging.  It worked a little bit, but he still blew his nose into a napkin and lamented the fact that his meal wouldn’t taste quite as good.

(It was still delicious and filling, but he couldn’t get the nuances of the spices.  The only saving grace was the cucumbers and the tzatziki.)

Grover took out the brochures again.  “Okay, so the Ogden Theatre isn’t marked, but the Fillemore Auditorium is.  Should we just… go in that direction?  Ask around?”

They couldn’t come up with a better idea, so off they went.

“Looks like we’ll get in that hour walk anyway,” Percy grinned slyly, and Annabeth huffed while Grover snorted.

Denver was hot, but it didn’t smell as bad as New York in the summer, Percy’s traitorous little heart had to admit.  It’d been a while since he’d truly called New York home, especially since he usually avoided the city if he could.  This past May was the most recent time he’d been within ten miles of the city, and before that, he hadn’t been back since he ran away at age eight, but it still held a place in his heart.  Now, knowing the gods were there, it had soured slightly.

After trailing down blocks and keeping their eyes peeled, they eventually gave up and asked someone for directions.  There had been generally going in the right direction, but were a few streets over still.  All they’d have had to do was keep walking, for the most part, but Percy couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed.

The Ogden Theatre was slightly taller than its neighbors, an axe throwing place and a cigar shop in a strip of small shops.  Every building in this area was kind of short, not really getting taller than two stories at best.  The inside of the building was pretty empty, since it wasn’t open yet, but they advertised a show at eight pm, and the doors said they’d be open at seven every day there was a show.

“So we have a deadline,” Annabeth muttered, “and employees could start arriving up to several hours before.  It’s currently one, we probably have at least three or four hours, if not five.”

“I’d prefer to get done before five,” Percy muttered, and Grover gave him a sad and understanding look.

“Well,” he declared, “we probably don’t want to go in through the front.”

The two demigods looked at him and he sighed.  “It’s locked,” Grover said in exasperation, “and we’re in broad daylight.  I don’t want to test Percy’s ability to manipulate the Mist right now.”

Percy winced.  “Fair enough.  There should be a back door, though, right?”

They slipped around the side between the theatre and the cigar shop, to the alley that was more open, and ducked into the shadow of the building at the first door they saw.  Percy pulled the dufflebag as far forward as he could without taking it off and dug for the scraps that would do what he wanted.  He hadn’t gone around intending to make lockpicks, but he certainly hadn’t tried to find another use for the scrap involved either.

“Of course you have lockpicks,” Annabeth said in exasperation, “how you’re not a Her- Messenger Lord’s kid, I’ll never know.”

“I will choose to take that as a compliment,” he said primly as he twisted and the door clicked open, “because this has certainly saved my life.”

They slipped into the darkened theater itself.  It seemed like the theater had one stage with two stories of seats, and they were on the lower level.  Everything was turned off and as the door shut behind them, they were plunged into total darkness.

Annabeth drew her dagger and the bronze glow made it not seem so endless.  Grover moved to their right and pushed on one double door, letting light from the wide open windows of the entrance stream in, and he put the door stopper down.  It wasn’t amazing, but it was something.

“We should just open all of them,” Annabeth grumbled.

“Personally,” Percy winced, “I wouldn’t want people to see there’s someone in the theater.  Let’s see if we can turn the house lights on so we can close the door again.”

“Wait,” Grover muttered, “do you hear that?”

They both paused.  If he strained, he could hear the light flutter of wings.

He gave a light sniff.  Nothing really stood out, just the regular scents (and still some cumin).  Actually, there was something floral… no, fruity, wait, it kept changing-

“Hey,” he said suddenly, “War Lord’s girlfriend.  She’s… Lady Love, right?”

Annabeth gave him an appraising glance.  “Yes, that’s right.  Why do you ask?”

He pointed up.  “There’s something upstairs that reminds me of her kids.  So, she was probably here.”

Grover made a noise of realization.  “He did say he took his girlfriend here.  I bet that’s where the thing we need to get is!”

Annabeth looked around and pointed.  “There, stairs.  And maybe the light booth is upstairs.  The only thing down here is a bar.”

The light from the door was putting in work, but not enough to really see everything, so they did bump into stuff, but they didn’t fall down any stairs, which was nice, and soon they were on the second floor of seating.

“This place is probably really cool during a concert,” Percy remarked, “it’s small enough to feel connected, but large enough to have a big crowd still, which I think does something to help the energy, or whatever.”

“Have you ever been to a concert before?”

“Have you?”

Annabeth stubbornly folded her arms and Percy sighed.  “Uhhh, kind of?  I’ve been to a rave.”

“Sorry,” Grover said with an incredulous look, “I’m hunting you across the country and you have time to go to a rave?”

He shrugged helplessly.  “Kelli wanted to hang out, but didn’t want to miss her party.  I spent the entire time wondering why no one was questioning the twelve year old.”

Annabeth screwed up her mouth.  “This is… the empousa?”

He nodded.  “My sister, basically.  We did fight to the not-death the next day once her hangover was gone, if that makes you feel better.”

“I didn’t know empousa could get hangovers,” Grover muttered.

“Yeah, it makes them way more willing to light everything on fire.  Do not recommend.”

“There,” Annabeth pointed, “a shield and a scarf.  We can… Wait.”

Percy squinted.  “Oh my gods, are there birds nesting in it?”

There were a few pigeon sized birds that were sitting very comfortably in the bowl of the shield using the pink silk scarf as a sort of nest while they slept and preened.  Grover held them both back from moving.

“There’s more than three,” he breathed.

It was pretty dark up here, but now that he was looking for it, he could see the slight movements of feather ruffles, and the smell of feathers he’d assumed was from Annabeth was much, much stronger than it should have been.  He took another quick inhale and frowned.

“Those aren’t regular pigeons, are they,” Annabeth grimaced.

“Metal,” he muttered, “bronze specifically, and something sharp, like… poison.”

“Birds with bronze and poison,” Annabeth murmured, “birds with bronze and poison…”

“How are we going to get the shield,” Grover whispered, “when there’s metal poison birds directly on top of it?!”

“I got it,” Annabeth cried, then immediately quieted with a flinch when more birds rustled, “I got it, they’re probably stymphalian birds.  I thought they’d be bigger, but they have bronze beaks, razor sharp feathers, and their excrement is poisonous.”

Percy stared at her blankly and she sighed in exasperation.  “Their poop.”

“But why are they here,” Grover whimpered, “I thought they hated loud noises.”

“Maybe these ones are special,” Percy muttered, “or maybe they’re recent residents that don’t know what they’re doing here either.  What do we know about these birds?”

“Heracles defeated them in his sixth trial with the help of my mother,” Annabeth says promptly, “she gave him a rattle crafted by Hephaestus himself for that very purpose, or a set of brass bells, the myths aren’t quite clear.  It disoriented them enough that he could pick them out of the sky, which, once enough of them had been killed, made them flee and stop ruining the area they were in.”

“Picked them off with what?”

She glanced at him.  “Bow and arrow.  Do you have one?”

“I specialize in really terrible swords,” he shook his head, “so no.”

Grover took a deep breath and took out his sickle.  It looked a little more polished and sharpened than it had when Percy had pulled it out of his bag, and there was a little sprig of coniferous leaves, the ones that were more like fronds than needles, twisted around the handle.

“I can try to pick them off,” Grover said, gesturing at his flying shoes, “but what’s going to make the noise we need?”

Percy hummed.  “I mean, we’re literally in a concert hall.”

“But we don’t know where the sound system is,” Annabeth bit her lip, “so who knows what we can find.”

“There has to be something backstage,” he insisted, “but if all else fails, we just grab the shield, maybe the scarf, and book it.  It’s not like the door is too terribly far away.”

Annabeth bit her lip, looking at the veritable swarm of death birds.  “Let’s… see if we can figure out the sound thing first.  Before they wake up.”

They crept back down the stairs, being much more careful than coming up, and crept in the darkness to the stage.  They had to climb over some metal railings and up the stage to actually get to the back stage, but they did it with minimal noise, so the birds hadn’t woken up yet.

“Come on,” Annabeth whispered, “we need to find something that can make noise!”

But nothing was there.  Percy took a small moment to be mildly annoyed that the people who used this theatre were so good at putting the sound equipment away correctly instead of leaving it out for helpless demigods to use.  How dare they do their jobs correctly.  The audacity.

He smiled slightly to himself but his expression went back to serious as soon as Annabeth hissed them over.

She held out a single microphone, cord spiraling into a socket in the ground, and she flicked it on.  The light went green, and a light tap on it rang quietly through the theatre.

“This was all I could find,” she points the mic away from her mouth to whisper, “so we can… yell, I guess?  Or sing?”

Percy’s brain raced before he took the microphone, covering it with his hand.  “Okay, Annabeth, you should probably use your hat to sneak off with the shield and scarf, Grover can fly around taking birds out, and I,” he looked reluctantly at the microphone, “I guess that means I’m the distraction.  As soon as the door opens, we’ll know it’s time to run.”

She looked at him.  “I’ll be as fast as I can,” her voice was wobbling a little, and he mentally cursed for reminding her of her hat again.  It would definitely be the best way for them to get the stuff out undetected, but it was still a sensitive subject, probably.

“Will,” he was reluctant to bring more attention to it, “will the charm on it affect anything, do you think?”

“It… shouldn’t, right?  She just said it was a blessing.”

Grover and Percy exchanged a look.  “If anything starts feeling weird,” Grover said, “let me know, and I’ll fly the stuff out.  I’d rather nothing happens to you.”

“Really, this all depends on my ability to be loud and disorienting,” Percy sighed nervously, “you guys should be fine.”

They all exchanged nervous nods, and Annabeth slipped up the stairs again.  Her hands were trembling slightly.  Grover swallowed and his grip tightened on the leather of the small sickle handle.

“You know, satyrs don’t usually have… weapons.  Usually we have nature magic, or maybe a good tree branch.”

“Like Gleeson Hedge.”

Grover snorted.  “Yeah, Hedge is well known for his club.  We’re not really fighters.  But…” he looked at the glowing bronze blade, curled gently, “this is technically a harvest tool.  So it’s fine.”

Percy patted him on the back.  “You’re going to do great.  We all will.”

He looked out over the black hall, pulling his hand away from the microphone and wincing at the muffled sound it made.  His eyes locked onto the flutter of movement in the top section and he opened his mouth.

But his mind went blank.

He couldn’t, for the life of him, think of what he should do.  Just scream?  Were they disoriented by any loud noise, or did it have to be bad ones?  Or was it good ones, luring them like sirens?  What had Annabeth said Heracles used, a rattle?  Bells?  He didn’t have any bells!

He didn’t have…  His eyes widened.  That might work.

He took a deep breath.

“Well, whachu gonna do when the bells don’t chime,” he sang, watching the birds flutter awake, "there's nothin’ you can do to make ‘em ring?  Whatchu gonna do, when you ain’t mine, you’ll find out that you had everything.  When the bells don’t chime,” they started to flock, but was their disorientation from just waking up, or from the music, “when they don’t even ring, your heart feels broken, you can’t even sing!  Whachu gonna do when the bells don’t chime?  You’re gonna wish you still had meeee…”

He took a deep breath.  “Had meeeeeeee!  Well, whatchu gonna do when the bells don’t chime, you’ll slip into a night that never ends!”  He drew Riptide as soon as a bird got too close and switched the microphone to his left hand.  “Whachu gonna do, when you ain’t mine?  You’ll really miss your old drinkin’ friend!  Whatchu gonna do, when the sun goes down, will you act any different if I come around; whachu gonna do when the bells don’t chime?  You’re gonna wish you still had me.  Oh, show ‘em how to do it!”

He felt like his face was on fire as he mimicked the guitar sounds for this part of the song, him and Grover taking out every bird that got close.  Something about the music was making them wobbly, and they weren’t really trying to attack at all.  They seemed dazed, but Percy had missed one and it fluttered past him, slicing his arm open just by being in proximity, and he wasn’t about to let anything else get close to him.

“Whachu gonna do when the bells don’t chime, there’s nothing you can do to make them ring?” He felt his embarrassment lessening as he got back into the last verse.  “Whachu gonna do, when you ain’t mine?  You’ll find out that you lost everything.  When the bells don’t chime,” the door opened and he tensed, starting to move, “when they don’t even ring, your money and your car, man, they don’t mean a thing!  Whachu gonna do when the bells don’t chime, you’re gonna wish you still had me,” he put down the microphone, switching it off and starting to yell, and Grover was diving for the door, “you’re gonna need a little sympathy!  Ohhh, you’re gonna wish.  You still!  Had!  Me!”  He did the little guitar bit at the end without thinking and slammed the door shut behind him on the last note.  A few birds thumped into it and he breathed heavily with nerves.  Annabeth appeared beside him, looking a little queasy and shivering as she shoved her hat in her back pocket.  She was clutching the shield and scarf to her chest.

“That was great,” Grover puffed, “you were awesome, Percy!  You can really sing!”

Annabeth laughed weakly.  “I liked the banjo parts the best.”

“Guitar,” Percy corrected with a groan, “but I couldn’t just stop making noise!”

“Don’t worry,” Grover laughed a little breathlessly, “sometimes I do parts out loud before I try them on my panpi… my panpipes.”

They both turned to stare at him and he gave them a stricken look.  “Guys,” he whined, “I had my panpipes the entire time!”

Percy buried his flaming red face in his hands and groaned.  “So you’re saying I didn’t need to embarrass myself?  Great.”

“Only we saw, don’t worry.” Annabeth looked like she was trying not to laugh, but it was a sight better than how shaken she’d looked before.  Privately, Percy didn’t think it was the birds that had made her like that, and felt a pang of worry.

They circled around to the front of the building, Annabeth handing the shield over and shoving the scarf in her bag before falling into step behind Percy.

It was good she did, because sitting in front of the theatre, leaning against his motorcycle and picking his nails with a bowie knife, was the god of war himself.

“Excellent,” he straightened, flipping the knife before catching and sheathing it, “you got it.  And you don’t look all sliced to ribbons either.  Neat.”

Percy very carefully didn’t look at Annabeth, but stalked forward and pushed the shield into Ares’ chest.  He wasn’t as forceful as he could be, and luckily, the god just grinned.

“I like your spunk,” he said easily, “but you really should be a bit more careful.  I warned ya, didn’t I?”

“You said you’d give me information,” Percy said, trying to keep the anger out of his voice, “so that seems like a good place to start.  What exactly makes me different?”

Ares hummed and stretched, inspecting his shield.  “Uncle P is a bit wild, ya know?  He’s got something like five godly kids, and Kym, she’s fun, but she’s not exactly what mortals would call palatable.  Not like me and war being some people’s cups of piss, no, she’s a bit too inhuman looking for most.  Seemed like you got more smell, huh?  She got eyes, eyes that just unsettle you.  And she’s not the only one of Barnacle Beard’s kids who’s other.   Hell, the amount of monsters he’s spawned has given him the name, Father of Monsters.  Accounts vary, of course, but yeesh… and sometimes, you get a kid like Kym who’s a bit too different, a bit too close to that edge of divine and monstrous.  She was smart, she leaned into it, followed her domains, kept her head, fell on the right side.”  He shrugged.  “But one of his kids, she thought she was special because of it.  Got a bit too big for her britches.  Tried to steal something from our little hero, Heracles.”

He spit on the floor.  “What a piece of trash.  But hey, Daddy Dearest was fond of the little brat for all the glory he’d brought to the name, so she got punished and pushed over that edge in the wrong direction.  It was inevitable, really.  Father of Monsters, and all.”

Percy licked his lips.  “What happened to her?”

Ares smirked.  “Better question would be her name, little monster in the making.”

He gestured for Percy to continue and his jaw ticked.  “Fine,” he gritted his teeth, “what was her name?”

“Her name,” the god said with a flourish, “is Charybdis.”

Grover and Annabeth both gasped.  Percy felt a little numb.  Charybdis was a giant sea monster or a whirlpool, depending on the myth you followed.  Cursed to remain in one spot and swallow anything that got too close.  But she wasn’t always like that?  He felt like he should have known.  He’d tried to study all the myths related to his dad, and while she’d appeared in the Odyssey, it was just as an obstacle to pair with Scylla, not as a cursed goddess.

“You’ve got a little too much of Uncle P in you,” Ares sounded very satisfied, “and sooner or later, destiny is going to swallow you whole.  If you’re not careful, you’ll teeter off that edge.”  He slid his sunglasses down and grinned, letting the red fires consume Percy’s vision, filling his head with sounds of war, both ancient and modern.  The sunglasses slid up and Ares swung a leg over his motorcycle, sitting back like it was a throne.

“I’d make sure I knew which side I fell off on, if I were you,” he called as the engine revved, “because you’re going to fall.”

He drove off, thundering down the street like the pounding of a hundred horses, and left them in the dust.

“Well,” he said, sounding far away, “that’s one line of the prophecy down.”

“Kymopoleia and Charybdis are gods,” Annabeth’s voice was shaky, “they started out as goddesses, they weren’t… they’ve never been demigods.  He might be wrong.”

“I don’t think he is,” Percy said quietly, “I know I’m not… normal.  Even for a demigod.  You can’t smell them, can you?”

She seemed reluctant. “Well… no.  But it could just be a child of Poseidon thing!  It’s not like we have anyone else around to check!”

“Or maybe,” Grover interjected, herding them along back in the direction of the botanical gardens, “maybe it’s a kid of the Big Three thing!  Maybe their being able to smell things or have better senses in general was why they were too powerful, and that’s why the oath was made!”

Percy looked at her impassively.  “How long were you with her?  Thalia, I mean.”

She exchanged a look with Grover.  “About… two weeks?”

“So you would have noticed.  Grover, you were with her longer.  Did you notice anything… enhanced?”

Grover tentatively shook his head.  “But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t,” he said rapidly, “I was pretty young, and super stressed-”

“It’s okay,” Percy tried to sound upbeat, “like Annie said, the other two didn’t start as demigods.  Maybe it’ll be different!”

“Don’t call me that,” she rolled her eyes, but color was returning to her cheeks, “seriously, don’t.  Not Beth, either.”

“Fine, fine.  But anyway, once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action,” he pointed out with a grin, “and I’m lucky number three!  So, we’ll break it before it becomes a pattern.  If there really is a line, I’ll just straddle it forever.  Now come on, Annabeth,” he stressed the name just for her, “tell us about the architecture.  And… do you have your hat?”

She pursed her lips and nodded, but immediately brushed past it to point out how the buildings were constructed.  Most of them were done using modern techniques, but she had something to say about at least one building every block, and it helped pass the time and calm them down as they walked back to the botanical gardens.

Persephone was standing outside the entrance, and she stepped off the wall when they got close with a smile on her face.

“You made excellent time,” she said, “I haven’t made tonight’s dinner yet.  You got what you needed?”

Annabeth reached to take it out and the goddess raised her hands.  “Not here.  Come, follow me.”

She escorted them into the gardens, the workers waving them in placidly, and ushered them quickly to one of the buildings.  It was probably a staff building, since the only people inside were uniformed, but with a wave of her hand they packed up and left, leaving the break room and the small kitchen empty.  She started to pull ingredients out of the fridge and freezer, plus grabbed a few things from the cabinets.

“I’m going to make something I saw Minnesotans make,” she said idly, “they call it tater tot hot dish.  Of course, it has tater tots, but “hot dish” is just another name for casserole.  It’s incredibly simple, would you like to make it?  Oh, Annabeth dear, you just sit down.  And maybe take the helm out of your pocket, there we are, that’s a dear.”

She whisked away the helm that looked like a Dodger’s cap and Annabeth immediately relaxed a little, sinking into the chair and leaning on the table.  Percy and Grover got drafted into helping, but it wasn’t much work.  Persephone hadn’t been lying in how simple it was - brown and season the ground beef (Percy did that one), cook onions and garlic, throw in frozen corn and green beans, mix in two cans of cream of mushroom, toss it in a dish and cover it with colby jack cheese, then layer it with tater tots and stick it in the oven.  The timer was set for thirty minutes, and she sat them at the table with some orange juice while they waited.

“So,” she smiled, “anything you want to tell your mother?  Anything you want to send with the care package?”

“Why did you kidnap my mom,” Percy said lowly, “and why do you still have her?  We got you your stupid helm back.”

Persephone’s eyes flared a little before settling back into spring green.  “Ah, but see, you’ll still have to take it to my husband.  As much as my flighty brother is swift, I don’t trust him to not fall for the same trap our angry brother did.  I still don’t know what possessed our god of war, but I don’t like it.  As for your mother…”

She sat back in her seat and idly traced a pattern on the table.  “Let us just say it would not be the first time the King eliminated the parent to get at his brothers’ children.  My husband knows that pain well.”

They exchanged a glance and Annabeth swallowed.  “Were you… not happy about that?”

The goddess let out a gusty sigh.  “I’m not the Sky Queen.   Yet… I can’t say I wasn’t pleased, for a moment.  But I share my husband’s happiness and grief.  He is not a creature to love easily, if at all.  It takes time.”

Grover blinked.  “But didn’t he fall in love with you at first sight?  I mean, he was obsessed enough to kidnap you!”

Persephone’s face twists into a sneer.  “And even in that, he would not touch me for years, so great is his restraint.  I love my husband now, make no mistake, but let’s just say that if Eros gets within a hundred yards of any of our House, his wings will be torn off of him.”

The three kids exchanged wide eyed glances.  This was not something they’d thought they’d hear today, if at all.  Did anyone know the complete story?  Even though they could probably still use some details, pretty much everyone thought that it was of Hades’ own volition and his obsessive love for Persephone that had caused him to do something so drastic.

“Let’s play some cards,” she declared suddenly, manifesting a deck of cards with a flowery mandala on the back, “do you know how to play up and down the river?”

It was kind of like spades, but trump varied.  They started out with one card, and she declared that since they didn’t have a huge amount of time, they’d only go up to seven instead of the classic thirteen.  Each turn, cards would get dealt, and the top card of the deck would be flipped to reveal the trump suit.  Then, players would bid on how many tricks they thought they’d win.  Points would be given for tricks won and successfully matching your bid.

Annabeth and Grover were competing for top spot, with Grover having played a good bit of pinochle with Mr. D and Chiron, and Annabeth absolutely counting cards, for what that was worth when only half the deck ever got dealt, max.  Percy and Persephone seemed to just be having fun and doing their best, fighting to see who got last place.

Finally, the timer went off when they were back down to three cards, and Persephone pulled out the baking dish with a pleased hum.  “Excellent, this will do nicely.”

She looked at the three kids, who were looking a little hungry, and laughed.  “We can make another one.  Purely vegetable, even.”

Percy managed to crack a small smile.  “With zucchini?”

She smiled.  “With zucchini.”

While the tater tot hot dish with ground beef was packed away, ready in a Hermes’ Express box, all three of them helped slice the vegetables and saute them, mixing everything together and pouring it into another casserole dish, layering it with cheese and tater tots.  It got stuck in the oven as well, and they sat down to finish their game, Persephone declaring they’d go back up the river once they got to one card again.  It was a decent way to pass the time, and even if the zucchini didn’t smell quite as nice as the ground beef, it still smelled pretty darn good.

When they finished the game, a few minutes left before the food came out, Persephone slid a piece of paper and a pen to Percy.

He picked it up and stared before pressing the tip to the paper.  He wrote slowly to make sure he spelled everything correctly.

Mom,

We’re coming to get you.  I only sort of know why the Under Lord took you, but he better be treating you right, because we have his helm, and I’m sure I can toss it into the ocean if he’s not.  We’re also going to finish the rest of the quest to make Sky Guy not nearly as pissed.

Use this to stay warm.

I love you.

Percy

He took out the folded quilt, all blues and greens and purples, and buried his nose in it one last time.  Sure, it mostly smelled like him and Annabeth, since he’d been using it to sleep and she was almost always next to him (there was room, he felt bad), but underneath it he could still smell the detergent his mom had insisted on every camper using, instead of the cheap stuff Mr. D had been providing.  She’d forced him to have some delivered, and he’d grumbled, but agreed.  Apparently the cheap stuff had been making some campers itch, and she was seen as even more of a hero than before.

He put it in the box, on top of the casserole dish’s lid, and tucked the note inside.

Dinner was delicious, but he felt like he wasn’t really tasting it.  Still, he ate a good portion, and soon, they were done.  The package had disappeared while they were eating, and she gave the helm back.  It was much more muted than it had been, and Annabeth didn’t look quite as nervous putting it in her bag.

Persephone walked them out of the botanical gardens, pointing out the flowers on the way and talking about where they were from, their names, and their favorite thing to eat.  Grover was absorbing the information readily, but Percy was thinking about other things.

As soon as they stepped out of the gardens, Percy stiffened.  It smelled like cumin.

The god grinned.  “Sister.”

She bore her teeth in turn.  “Brother.”

He shifted, cocking his head.  “See, I realized I’d promised the brats a ride west, out to your dearest husband, and hadn’t delivered yet.  Imagine my surprise when I see you’ve set up in this city.  What’d you talk about?”

She smiled, all thorns.  “I saw you had them retrieve something for you.  It seemed like such a good idea, I thought to give them a task.”

Ares huffed and surreptitiously patted his pocket.  “Missing a flower crown?”

She shrugged.  “Something like that.  They were just about to set off to find it.  Coincidentally, also out west.”

“Well,” Ares stretched, “sounds like you can get them a ride, then, since you know the stop they need to make.”

She grit her teeth.  “You already promised them their reward, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, how about this,” Ares hefted a bright blue backpack out of nowhere, “you give them a ride, and I’ll make sure they have supplies.  I bet they were running low, anyway.  Then they can get to where you need them to go before they have to go to your house.  Your winter house, I mean.  Seems like a good substitute.”

She inspected him with narrowed eyes before shrugging, seemingly nonplussed.  “Fine.  Do as you wish.  I don’t care.”

She waved her hand and they saw a flower truck start to turn the corner.  Ares tossed the bag and it sagged at their feet, but not enough to say it was empty.  It was pretty full, and Percy was just glad they hadn’t heard anything crack or break.

“That’s my part done,” Ares grunted, “see you around, squirts.  Don’t fail.”

He motorcycled away, and only once he was around the corner did they all relax.

“Get in the van while they’re in the bathroom,” she advised, pointing at the flower truck.  “They should arrive at Vegas around four am and will stop for several hours, until about two in the afternoon, and then they’ll go on to Los Angeles.  If you get off the van, it is up to you to get back on it on time.”

“Thank you, my lady,” Grover bowed a bit, “you’ve been such a big help.”

“You’re doing me quite a large favor,” she said, “so this could just be called your due.”

“Why,” Percy said, “I know earlier you said you knew I didn’t steal the bolt, but how?”

The goddess smiled.  “You have an alibi.  Hurry now, you wouldn't want to miss your ride.”

She ushered them to the van and closed the doors behind them with a wink.  They were surrounded by cool misted flowers, in an air conditioned van, but it was a little cramped.

A short while later, the van started, and began its rumble to Las Vegas.

They were close.

Chapter Text

The first thirty minutes in the flower truck were spent in awkward silence before Grover broke.

“So,” Grover said tentatively, “you did amazing, Annabeth!”

She shrugged.  “Percy’s really good at being in your face.  He kept the attention off of me.  Plus, well, Luke did practically raise me.”

“You pickpocketed a god,” Percy scoffed, “don’t downplay that.”

“I was so certain he was going to notice,” she whispered, “that he’d feel it, or notice the sudden lack, or the energies would be off…  Something, and then I’d be a smear on the pavement.”

Percy swallowed.  “Glad I’m so insufferable, then.”

She smiled weakly.  “I thought it was sarcastic?”

He managed to smile back before he frowned.  Maybe it was just the bluish lighting coming in from the white exterior of the truck in the day’s end throes, but she looked paler than usual.

“You looked sick after wearing your hat,” he murmured.

She opened her mouth to say something, rethought, and then deflated.  “Yeah,” she admitted softly, “it just… it felt like the life was draining out of me.”

Grover tensed.  “Oh no.  Because of the underworld blessing?”

She licked her lips.  “I think so.”

“But you have the real deal now,” Percy sat up straighter, “you have the actual real helm in your bag right this moment.  Shit, do we need to take turns carrying it-”

“No,” she burst out, then quieted with a glance to the front of the truck, “no, it’s fine.  As long as I don’t wear it, it should be fine.  Chthonic magics are just… incompatible with a lot of people.  And she masked the energy as much as she could, so other than it being a little cold around the helm, it’s fine.  Grover, you’d get more sick than me, probably, being a nature spirit, and I don’t even want to guess about what would happen to you, Percy.”

Percy looked into her eyes for another moment, searching, before nodding reluctantly.  “If it starts bugging you,” he says seriously, “you have to tell us.  Promise?”

She hesitated for a moment, but Grover put his hand on her knee and she slouched.  “I promise.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Grover snickered and shivered.

“You know, with all this mist around, if we had some light, I bet we could make a rainbow,” he murmured.

Annabeth snorted.  “Probably.  Everyone we would contact would be asleep, though.”

Percy frowned.  “What?”

They blinked at him and Grover groaned.  “I forgot,” he muttered, “you seem to know most of demigod stuff already, but that doesn’t mean you know all of it.  Your gaps in knowledge are weird and incomprehensible.”

“Oh gee,” he said lightly, “thanks.  Rainbows and contacting people?”

“Iris messaging,” Annabeth giggled, “it’s how demigods communicate.  Technically anyone can do it.  You throw a drachma into a rainbow, say “O Iris, goddess of the rainbow, show me so and so,” but saying someone’s name and location, obviously, and then if she’s not busy, she’ll place your call for you.  It’s the video call of the gods.”

Percy wrinkled his nose.  “What if the person you’re calling is, uh, busy?  Or taking a shower?  Or a dump?”

“Statistically, it’s unlikely to happen,” she said dryly, “but I doubt she checks to see the person’s state of undress.”

He pointed at her.  “Don’t you come at me with your math witchery.  I don’t want to see anyone’s unmentionables, is it so hard to ask that she checks before placing the call?”

She shrugged.  “That’s just a chance you’re going to have to take, then.  Besides, statistics isn’t witchcraft, it’s just math about probability.”

He leaned over slightly to Grover, who had gravitated to his side.  “So says the witch.”

Grover let out a quiet bray of laughter.

“The mean is the average of all of the data points, found by adding them up and then dividing by the number of-”

He hissed and crossed his fingers at her.  “Begone, foul creature!”

“-the mode is the data value that comes up the most often-”

“-Is there an off mode?-”

“-the median is, very obviously, the middle point of the data, regardless of the range-”

“”-very obviously” my ass-”

“-and the range is the difference between the highest and lowest numbers, representing the scope of the dataset-”

“-oh, obviously-”

“-but if you have outliers, then it can screw up all of the data except the mode-”

“Annabeth,” Grover interrupted softly, clearly trying not to laugh, “I think you killed him.”

She looked over his “corpse” with an unimpressed expression.  “A perfect example of an outlier,” she sniffed, “a demigod dying to math.”

Grover lost the battle to the snickers.  “Now that’s what I call a statistical anomaly!”

Percy groaned and turned his face into Grover’s shoulder.  “Noooo,” he whined, “don’t go over to the dark side, I need you!”

“As soon as we get back to camp, I’m bringing you up to speed on your school work,” Annabeth threatened.

“I hear the Underworld’s nice this time of year,” he mused, “I can just stay there forever.”

“The Rich Lord will definitely kick you out,” Grover said immediately, “you’re too much of a hassle.”

Percy stared at him.  “What happened to the Jackson Charm?”

“Your mom has it all.”

Percy sighed.  “That’s fair.”

“If he tries to keep her,” Annabeth muttered, “I bet she can convince him to let you stay.  She’ll also try to teach you, though.”

“Maybe I won’t eat underworld food then,” he grumbled.

“No one tell him,” Grover mumbled, eyes closing, “Mrs. Jackson is absolutely going to try sending him to school.”

Percy wrapped an arm around him and pulled him closer.  As the desert air cooled, so did the inside of the truck.  He held out an arm for Annabeth and she hesitated for a moment before sitting next to him as well.  She had to move a planter, but soon they were all huddled together.

Percy narrowed his eyes and felt the water in the air and misting on their skin before he flexed his fingers, instantly making all of them dry.  A bit of a nudge and the sprinklers twisted away from them.

“That’s pretty cool,” Annabeth muttered, also slouching against him.  He could smell the winter and rot on her, but it was faint, still mostly masked by her books, feathers, and pencils.  “Your control is pretty fine.”

“I don’t usually do a lot of big things,” he muttered, “but if I’m messing with the liquid in people’s bodies then I need to be pretty precise.”

She shuddered.  “Blood?”

“Yeah, and poisons.  It’s just manipulating the water in them, usually drying the blood to stop bleeding or separating the poison.”

“I’m not sure that’s normal.  Your dad’s the god of the sea.”

“I don’t know,” he said, suddenly exhausted, “it was hard, but if I couldn’t do it, I’d be dead, and so would a couple of other people.”

Annabeth was silent for a few moments and Percy just counted Grover’s breaths.

“Ariana.”

Percy hummed, relaxing slightly.  “Yeah.  First time I did the blood thing.”

“You saved her life.”

He stopped himself from shrugging.  “Might have lured the monsters there in the first place.”

Annabeth sighed.  “No, you didn’t.  She’s told the story a million times, much to Mr. D’s consternation.  The dracaena had been sniffing around for weeks, the only thing you did was stop her from getting eaten.”

He gave a full body flinch, and froze when Grover grumbled and readjusted with a sigh.

“Sorry,” Annabeth whispered.

“It’s fine.”

It really wasn’t, and he figured she could tell, but that wasn’t a story he ever wanted to tell anyone, so he closed his eyes and willed himself to sleep.  He felt Annabeth’s breaths even out before his, but when he opened his eyes next, he was at the edge of that pit again.

“And he suspects nothing?”

“The hand off was completed successfully.  Plans will proceed as scheduled.  War is inevitable, and you will rise, master.”

“But it would have been sooner, had you completed your task when I gave it.”

“I-I’m sorry master.  But this plan will work!”

“I wonder at giving you another chance, and not simply finding another servant to help me.  But at least the boy remains unaware.  Unless…”

“My Lord?”

“Blast it,” the pit snarled, “blast him and his father’s blood!  He’s here, you fool!”

“Impossible!”

“The ever changing sea begs to differ.  But fine, little hero, if you’re that eager to see your fate, perhaps I will show you.”

They zoomed out of the cave with the pit to an army of skeletons.  They all wore different livery, all in states of decay, but they were soldiers from all manner of wars.  There were modern soldiers in camo, soldiers in all black, in terracotta or quilted armor, in medieval chainmail, in greek and roman, in redcoats.  Every culture that had soldiers was represented by the dead here.

There were also skeletons wearing orange shirts under their bronze chestplates.

“You will come,” the voice hissed, “and you will be betrayed, consigned to the Deathless Army for eternity as reward for your services.  They’re tricking you, boy, using you for their own goals.  Your mother is already gone.”   

The voice turned sly and sweet.  “But I can return her to you,” it cooed, “I can break your chains.  Serve me, bring me the bolt, and condemn the gods to their foolish fate.  Let them reap what they sow, Perseus.  They’ve used heroes for far too long.  Let them suffer for it.”

“Or,” the voice hardened again with a sneer, “be doomed and betrayed.  Choose wisely, little hero.”

He woke up, almost hitting Grover’s forehead with his, and gasped for breath.

“Sand,” he muttered, sand and… feathers?

“Percy?”

He looked at Annabeth unseeing for a moment before his face flushed.  “Dream,” he choked out, “sorry.”

“What was it about,” Grover looked nervous, “you were kind of… thrashing.  And muttering “I won't help you.”  Who… wanted your help?”

He winced.  “Sorry, I woke you both up, didn’t I?”

Annabeth shrugged.  “We slept for hours, we’re fine.  Who wanted your help?”

“I don’t know,” he grumbled, “I’ve never been able to see them.  But it was a voice in this pit, I think in the Underworld.  They smell like sand and have a demigod accomplice.”

“A pit in the Underworld,” Grover squeaked, “are you sure?”

Annabeth bit her lip.  “Tartarus.  So it’s a monster.”

“Monsters aren’t the only things in Tartarus,” Grover pointed out nervously, “there’s also, oh, most enemies the gods have ever made?  Like… the titans, or the giants?”

“So our enemy has changed from someone who hates the gods to someone who hates the gods,” Percy leaned back with a thunk, “awesome, great, wonderful.  So helpful.”

Annabeth winced.  “It’s… probably a titan.  Maybe… no, it can’t be him.”

Percy looked at her incredulously.  “So you did just jinx us, I hope you know.  Who can’t it be?”

“The Crooked One,” she muttered, “the father of the gods.  Lord of Time.”

“Sand,” he muttered.

“No no no no,” Grover said, instantly ten times more frightened, “it can’t be.”

“What did we just say about can’ts,” Percy pointed, “you’re increasing the chances of that being right, and no that's not statistics, shut up.”

“I’m not going to joke about math at a time like this,” Annabeth said in exasperation, “if someone is working with the Titan Lord, then we have to warn people.”

“We have to get the bolt,” Percy insisted, “and return the helm and get my mom.  We can just… avoid him.  He was chopped into a billion pieces, right?  Titan or not, there’s no way he can get out on his own.”

“That’s why he wants the bolt,” Annabeth muttered, “it’s not just about the gods fighting each other, it’s about using the power to heal himself.”

“The worst he’s done so far is send me terrible nightmares,” Percy said, “if he could do more, he probably would have already.”

“But he has an accomplice you said,” Annabeth pointed out, “a demigod?”

“Probably?”

Grover looked at him.  “Why do you think they’re a demigod and not a monster?”

He shifted uneasily.  “I… don’t know.  I could smell them, I think, unless Grandpa is also associated with birds.”

Annabeth’s mouth snapped shut.

Grover stared.  “You… could smell them?  Well, that’s confirmation on that, anyway.”

“I feel like I know them,” Percy muttered, closing his eyes in frustration, “like it’s someone I’ve seen and smelled before.  I can’t tell you if they were a boy or a girl, or what they looked or sounded like, but something about them is just too familiar to let go.”

“But that means there’s a traitor at camp,” Annabeth said, voice wobbly, “that means it really was a camper, working for the Crooked One.”

Grover winced.  “Who was at the winter solstice celebration on Olympus?”

“All the year rounders,” she said numbly.

“Okay,” he turned back to Percy, “what gods smell like feathers?”

“Can we not,” Annabeth said harshly, “I really don’t feel like trying to guess which of the people I’ve grown up with has turned on us.”

Percy looked at her for a moment with a small degree of pity, but nodded.  “We’ll need to talk about it eventually,” he pointed out, "preferably before we get to the Underworld.”

The van stopped and they heard the doors open and shut.

“Perfect timing,” the girl muttered, standing wobbly, “can you get the doors open again so we can stretch our legs?”

Percy took the makeshift lockpicks and opened the van.  It was hard in the dark, but there was a small amount of water in the locks, so he closed his eyes and breathed.  The lock clicked open and he put the tools away, feeling the tips to ensure they hadn’t bent at all.

The Las Vegas strip was brilliantly lit and alive, even at four in the morning, and they all stretched under the neon glow.

“Okay,” Annabeth said, taking charge and completely ignoring the previous conversation, “we have until 2 pm.  The War lord gave us oreos and money, for the most part, so we should be able to buy lunch somewhere.”

Percy dug out the money pouch and raised an eyebrow.  “If we really wanted, we could rent a hotel room for a day with this and take long hot showers.  Oh, he also included a change of clothes.  That’s nice.  I think, depending on the hotel, we’ll also have enough left over to get food.  I remember hotels being cheap in casino towns, since they assume you’re going to spend all your money at the casino.  He gave us like $100, I bet we could even get more than one room.  Not that I’d recommend it.”

Annabeth considered it for a moment, then nodded.  “Okay, yeah, I could use a shower.  Let’s look around and find the cheapest hotel, then.”

A few hotels even turned them away, and Percy didn’t really feel like manipulating the Mist to make it work anyway, as they were often the more expensive ones anyway.  They were probably going to go with the Luxor, a pyramid shaped hotel that was only $25, but they had one last one to check at the very end of the strip, the Lotus Hotel and Casino.

Percy took in a breath and sighed.  “Reminds me of the Love kids,” he joked, “it’s so sweet smelling.”

Grover snorted, taking his own deep breath.  “Means we can’t smell car exhaust for once.  I hope this one’s cheaper than $25.”

Annabeth sighed.  “It does smell nice, but it also looks really nice too, and you know how those ones usually go.”

They stepped inside and Percy whistled.  “Yeah,” he noted sadly, “no way this’ll be a cheap one.”

“Hello,” a bellhop came up to them with a beaming smile, “and welcome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino!  Here’s your room cards, you can use them to play any of the games as well.  Looks like you’re on the tenth floor, so you’ll take that elevator on up.  Hope you’re not afraid of heights, but if you are, we do have a back up elevator that isn’t made of glass.  If you ever have any questions, dial 1 on any phone and it will connect you to a staff member, or find anyone in the green uniform,” he beamed, showing perfectly white teeth, “and we’ll be more than happy to assist you!”

“Um,” they exchanged a glance and Grover scratched the back of his head, "I think there’s been some mistake…”

The bellhop laughed.  “Mistake?  How so?  Here, your room cards, prepared in advance.”

They each took the green cards they were handed and Percy blinked.  It had his name on it.

“Maybe Lady Spring arranged something,” Grover said eagerly, “it does smell like flowers!”

Annabeth frowned.  “Wouldn’t she have mentioned something, though?”

Percy shrugged, tucking the card in his pocket.  “Maybe she can hear through plants and felt bad about Annabeth getting sick from her blessing.”

Annabeth looked past the still smiling bellhop to the games.  There was practically an amusement park inside the building, with water slides looping around the elevator.  She relaxed.  “Okay,” she muttered, “we can afford to spend a few hours decompressing.  We still have, like, nine hours before the van leaves.”

“Wonderful,” the bellhop said with a wave, “just let us know if you need anything!”

They trekked over to the elevator and up to their room, ogling all the games and stations that were set up.

“I’ve been to an amusement park before,” Percy breathed, “but never one like this.”

“I haven’t,” Annabeth said wistfully, “but I’m totally down to try one.”

“You guys can shower first,” Grover said as he let them into their luxury suite, “I’ll order some food.  What do you guys want?”

“Cheeseburger,” they said in unison.

Grover snorted.  “Should have known.  Were Aunty Em’s really that good?”

Annabeth paused for a moment before agreeing with Percy’s grunt.  He looked over at her and saw her thinking face on for a moment before she shrugged.  “Rock paper scissors on the shower?”

Percy waved her off.  “You go first, I’ll probably take ages.”

“Aw,” she cooed, “are you a fish out of water?”

“Yes,” he fake cried, “my skin is so dry I’m going to crack!”

She snorted and looked in the closet.  “Oh, look, more clothes!  The Queen of the Underworld really went all out.”

“She must have felt really bad.”

She took a change of clothes and disappeared into the bathroom while Grover placed an order for room service.  Percy grabbed the TV remote and flipped through channels to see what was playing.

“No news,” he hummed, but maybe he just hadn’t gotten there yet.

“Why watch the news when you have all these channels,” Grover pointed out, “put on… Nat Geo!”

Percy considered it for a moment before shrugging and putting on the nature channel.  It was running a program on venus flytraps and other carnivorous plants.

The food arrived while Annabeth was drying off, and they all tucked in eagerly.  It was delicious, the perfect burger with crisp lettuce, juicy patty, flavorful tomato, just the right amount of ketchup and mayonnaise.  The bun was lightly buttered and toasted, and it was maybe even better than Aunty Em’s, but he was more than down to try hers again to compare.

Grover showered next, Annabeth lingering for a bit before declaring she was going to go check out the games, and Percy waved her off.  Percy went next and he took a loooong time in the shower before heading down himself.

He floated around, trying out different games.  He’d never gone to an arcade but he imagined this was what it was like.  The one time he’d snuck into an amusement park, he’d been chased out halfway through the day by an errant harpy riling up the mortals, and he’d only ever wanted to ride the kids rides that didn’t go too high up.  The adrenaline was nice, for the ones he felt comfortable going on.  Here, he was completely indoors, so while he still wasn’t enthused about the heights, he wasn’t particularly upset either.  He went down the water slide a few times (drying himself off when no one was paying attention; one of the many benefits of being a child of Poseidon) before trying out some of the actual games.

The smell of the flowers or fruit or whatever it was, was gentle and pleasant, keeping all of the other smells he might have smelt away and leaving him pretty content.  Surely, even with the showers that had amazing water pressure, some of these people wanted to game more than they wanted to bathe.  He couldn’t really blame them, because he was having a blast and it’d only been a few hours, but he appreciated not having to smell body odor.

Every so often, he’d approach a bellhop to verify the time, since they did have a deadline, but whoever said “time flies when you’re having fun” was clearly wrong, because it seemed like it was digging its heels and crawling to two pm.  They still had over two hours before he needed to be at the van for the last ride to Los Angeles.  Honestly, Percy kinda wished he could stay, but he did need… to get his mom.

He stopped dead in the middle of the walkway.  His mom.  He was… on a quest, with-

Someone bumped into him and he spun around to grab them, inhaling sharply when he met startled black eyes on a kid’s face.  He was slightly shorter than Percy, but not by much, so probably a year or two younger, if he had to guess.  That or equally as malnourished as Percy was.

“Sorry,” the kid squeaked.

He smelled like winter and rot.

Like Annabeth now did, because of the helm, because-

“Nico,” a girl walked over, black curls spilling down her head from under a green rasta cap, “you slipped away!”

Nico, the boy, flushed a little.  “Sorry, Bi,” he muttered, “I was just excited.  Then I bumped into this guy.”

He breathed in again, eyes locked on the older sister.  She also smelled a bit like winter, but there was a spicy undertone of fire instead of the sweet smell of decay.

“Hey, no worries,” Percy said, “but wow, I didn’t think I’d see another kid around my age.  When were you guys born?”

Bi relaxed a little at his easy smile.  “I was 1930, Nico was 1932.  You?”

“‘31,” Percy fibbed on the spot, “looks like I’m right in the middle.  Here,” he released Nico and pulled his dufflebag forward, had he taken it out of the room with him?  Old habits died hard, he had all of his things, and he brought out the sheathed sword, giving it to Bi.

She looked at it bewildered.  “Thanks…?”

He kept smiling pleasantly, trying to make them not freak out.  Nico was looking pretty excited.  “Percy.  Keep it with you always, just in case.  To remember me by.”

“Is this… a sword?”

She pulled it out slightly, looking fascinated and a little alarmed.  The ash circles dulled the glow of it, but it still looked a little otherworldly, even disregarding the unique pattern.

“This is a real sword,” Nico breathed, “cool!  What’s it made of, meteors?!”

“Bronze and ash,” Percy muttered, “listen, I need to go find my friends.  I don’t know if you’ve seen them, Grover kind of has a hat like you, and if he doesn’t, you might see some horns, don’t worry that’s completely normal, some people are like that.  Annabeth, she’s our age, blond, really intense looking.  Have you seen them?”

“I’m sorry,” Bi said, “I mostly just find Nico…”

“I’m going to play Mythomagic,” the boy beamed, “my deck is awesome!”

Percy smiled.  “Sounds like fun.  Maybe we can play together later.  I don’t want to lose my friends, though, this place is huge.”

Bi bit her lip, looking down at the sword.  “We could… help you look?”

He waved her off.  “I wouldn’t want to bother you.  Just… stay safe, okay?”

He froze as Nico hugged him quickly, pulling back and pointing seriously.  “You promised we’d play later,” he reminded, which Percy definitely had not, “don’t forget!  I hope you find your friends, and thanks for the sword!  Come on, Bianca, it’s right over there!”

He watched the two demigods leave before he took a deep breath in.  The sweet smell tried to convince him everything was alright and he had plenty of time, but he ignored it and tried to find the undertones of the actual people.  He stalked off, using his eyes and nose to try and find them.

Annabeth was first, at a futuristic looking game where you could build 3D models of things out of light, like an actual hologram projection straight out of a sci-fi movie.

“Annabeth,” he called urgently, “we have to go, this is a trap.”

“Not now, Percy,” she sounded annoyed, “I just unlocked-”

“We need to rescue my mom,” he said, “and get your hat back.  Remember?  The hat your mom gave you?  That shows how much she likes you?  Unlike your dad and stepmom who made you run away?”

“Can you run away?  I’m busy.”

“Spiders.”

She shrieked and flung herself back.  “Where?!”

He stared at her and her expression slowly cleared into one of horror.  “No.”

He nodded.  “Come on, I think Grover’s over this way.”

“No no no,” she scrambled after him, “what do you mean it’s a trap?  Percy, what’s going on?”

“I met some kids from the 1930’s a few minutes ago,” he called back, “and if you take a look around you’ll find people of all times and localities.  Something about this place is trapping us out of time.  Or we’re just not seeing time pass, which is worse, because I’ve asked for the time from a bellhop a couple of times and while it has been going up, it didn’t go as fast as I thought it would.”

“You asked one of the people who run this place?  Why would they tell you the truth?  Wait, there’s Grover!”

Grover was playing one of those Deer Hunter games, except he was the deer, going after the hunters.  He looked really into it, but Percy wasted no time in physically hauling him away.  “No way this is from the Lady Spring,” he said, continuing even as Grover struggled and swore, “this is straight up a trap.”

She gasped.  “Lotus Hotel!  This is the land of the lotus eaters!  It’s a tempting paradise that makes you want to never leave!”

“Thanks, I hate it,” he called over Grover’s wails, “now let’s go!”

The bellhop tried to stop them, but Percy’s mind was still racing, thinking “mom, mom, mom,” over and over, so he breezed right past them, ignoring whatever they had to say.  The sweet smell followed them outside the hotel, but it was much more muted, and he took in a deep breath of car exhaust, alcohol, and cigarettes.  Grover immediately stilled in his struggles and looked at the strip with a stricken expression.

“Oh no,” he murmured, “ohhhhh no.”

Annabeth snatched a newspaper as it fluttered by and sucked in a pained breath.  “June 20th,” she whispered, “the last day.”

The sun rose on the Las Vegas Strip nice and early.  They had less than two days to get to the underworld, find the bolt, and return to New York City.

“Oh, easy,” Percy grumbled, “why not?”

So they had very obviously missed their ride in the flower truck, but apparently taxis were willing to run casino cards through, and they each still had theirs, so Annabeth sacrificed hers to the taxi gods and got them to Los Angeles pronto.  They’d magically all had their bags upon exiting the casino, so they weren’t missing anything other than time.  Not that that wasn’t one of the worst things they could be missing.

They didn’t really have an actual address for the Underworld, for some reason, and unlike Mount Olympus, there also weren’t any blatant buildings that said “egotistical god(s) here, look for afterlife below.”  It wasn’t like they could ask for directions, either, so they just spent many desperate hours looking around.

“Hey kids,” a shop owner called, “you’re looking a little lost.  Need directions?”

Grover squinted at the sign.  “Crusty’s Waterbed Palace.  Uhhh…”

Percy sniffed, then blinked.  “He smells like the sea,” he muttered, eyes wide.

He stepped forward tentatively.  “Hi, uh, cousin…?”

The man stared at him for a moment, looking him up and down before grinning.  “I think not,” he boomed, “brother!  Wow, I didn’t think Father had kids anymore!  Come on in, bro, and we can see what brings you out west!”

He sagged in relief, but Annabeth tugged him back.  “Percy,” she said lowly, “this isn’t a demigod.  Or if he was, he isn’t one anymore.”

Percy blinked.  Oh, that was right.  The guy looked middle aged, but Thalia had been the first of Big Three kids since World War II, so even if he was a son of Poseidon, he wasn’t a recent one, which meant he was immortal in some way.

“I thought the War Lord said I was the third kid who could go either way,” he pointed out, “which means he probably just became a god.”

“Or he was born a monster,” Grover shuddered, “and he just happens to look human.  He is pretty tall…”

“And he doesn’t seem divine,” Annabeth muttered.

“Okay,” Percy was starting to get annoyed and ripped his arm from Annabeth’s grip, “but remember that not every monster is really a monster?  I’m going to go try and get our quest to its end, thanks.”

He stormed in after Crusty and told himself he didn’t really care if they followed or not, but even if it took a few extra seconds, they reluctantly trailed in after.

“Oh good,” the man joked as he came in from the back, “I thought you’d gotten lost on the way in!  Anyway, welcome to Crusty’s Waterbed Palace.  I don’t suppose you’re here to buy a waterbed?”

Percy snorted.  “No way I can afford that.  Sounds like the best kind of bed, though.”

“Oh for sure,” Crusty grinned, and his teeth were yellow with age, but no rusty red, Percy was smug to note, “and mine are even better than usual!  Wave motion, thousand hand massage, adjustable angles, built in lava lamps!  I have it all, and you’ll never find a bed quite like the ones in Crusty’s Waterbed Palace.”

“Um,” Annabeth muttered, “weren’t you going to ask for directions?  Not listen to his marketing spiel?”

Percy glared at her, but she did have a point.  “Hey, bro,” he said, and wow that was still crazy to think about, “do you happen to know where the entrance to the Underworld is?  We’re kind of on a time crunch.”

Crusty paused, looking them over.  “I mean.  Sure?  It’s right around the corner.  But are you sure I can’t tempt you to lay down, just for a little bit?”

Percy remembered how “just for a little bit” had gone last time and winced.  “This isn’t even our last stop,” he complained apologetically, “or I totally would.”

“Ah,” Crusty seemed sad, “it’s been so long since I’ve had a customer, let alone a brother, stop by.  I guess I got too excited.  Yeah, I can get you that address.”

Percy’s heart clenched.  “Wait,” he blurted, "I mean, I guess I can try one?  Brother to brother.”

Crusty’s whole countenance lit up.  “Really?  Great!  Here, try this one, it’s the best yet!”

Percy slipped off his bags, handing them to the trepidatious looking Grover and Annabeth, before walking over.  He gave them a pleading expression before turning back to the bed.  He leaned over when the shop bell rang.

“Stop, idiot,” a voice he recognized immediately sneered, “if you get on that bed, I’m not responsible for your death, which would be, like, so not a good way to die.”

He blinked.  “Kelli?”

The empousa flipped her hair with a smirk.  “Now, Crusty,” she drew out his name like she was mocking it, “don’t go calling people brother unless you’re willing to commit.  He’s mine, and I know you weren’t about to try your old tricks.”

Crusty sneered.  “Empousa.  This isn’t your territory.”

She stalked forward, mismatched steps thunking.  “The area?  No.  The boy?  Yes.   Back.  Off.  Procrustus.”

Annabeth gasped.  “The Stretcher!”

Kelli smirked at her.  “Sounds like Owl Head knows her myths.  Honestly, Percy, why do you get twice as stupid when I’m not around?”

He shrugged, backing away from the bed.  “So, brother, were you really about to stretch me?”

Crusty sighed.  “Kids these days don’t appreciate,” he leaned over and brought out a giant battle axe, and they all jumped back, “how much work it is to be a salesman and a craftsman.  My beds are all the perfect size, but no one is right for them!  Customers need a little help to be just as perfect as my beds!”

“You’ve clearly never slept on a bed,” Kelli scoffed, blase as ever, “because if your head and your feet are touching the edge of the bed, the bed is too small.  You want a bed to be bigger than you, dingus.”

Procrustus brandished his weapon with a grin.  “Want to have a discussion about it?”

She huffed.  “Snacks, wait outside.  I’ll handle this.”

She lunged forward, ducking under the axe swing that seemed too fast based on the size, and Grover wasted no time in grabbing them both and tugging them behind a bed so they could sneak outside without being in range (or sight) of Procrustus.

“Not every monster is a monster,” Annabeth mocked, “and how’d that work out, Percy?!”

“I’m sorry,” he hissed, “who, exactly, is saving your ass right now?  Oh, that's right, Kelli, a monster!"

“You’re both right for different reasons,” Grover whispered harshly, “but can we leave before we hash it out, please?”

They snuck outside, not looking back at the crashing of furniture and roaring of fire, and slouched against the side of the building.

“I thought it’d be fine,” Percy said weakly, “even if he was a monster, he was a son of the Ocean Man.  I thought that meant something.”

“If we ever meet Polyphemus,” Annabeth swore, “we’re attacking first and asking questions later, got it?”

Percy squinted.  “That’s Nobody’s cyclops, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, he seems like he’s objectively not looking out for humans, I think I’ll be fine with that.”

Grover whimpered.  “Let’s try to avoid the murderous sons of the Sea King, okay?”

Percy started ticking them off.  “Antaeus, he was that king of Libya who boxed people to death and collected their skulls, Chryasor was either a boar or a… pirate?  Sciron, maybe, was that bandit dude with a turtle and a foot fetish.  I think every single Named cyclops.  Some sea monsters, probably.”

“Hopefully we never meet another one of your brothers,” Annabeth sighed, “I think you’re just plenty.”

“We’re doomed now,” Percy pointed out, “it’s going to be one a quest because you said that.”

“You are so superstitious.”

“Gods are real, apparently, which means Tyche is also real.  I’m not going to push my luck.”

The shop bell rang and they all tensed until Kelli was the one to walk out.  She flicked some golden dust off of her with a glare.

“Ugh,” she muttered, “this has to be my least favorite part.  Okay, what’s up, losers?  Did you go see your mom, Perce?”

“We’re going to visit right now,” he said blandly, “do you want to meet her?”

“I thought she was in New York?”

“Oh, she was,” he shrugged, “until the Lord Below decided to bring her home.  His wife is making them dinner so she’s not stuck.”

Kelli opened and closed her mouth a few times before pinching the bridge of her nose.  “You’re going to the Underworld.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re a moron,” she groaned, “you do realize that usually once you get there, you don’t leave?  Please tell me you realize that.”

He shrugged.  “It’s come up.  But we’re also making a delivery, and it’d be pretty terrible if they killed us for doing their quest.”

She patted him on the cheek.  “You would get Baby’s First Quest as soon as you got within ten miles of that camp, wouldn’t you?  Eugh.  I guess that explains how you got out here this quickly, though.”

“What are you doing on the west coast,” he looked her over, “it’s been two months since I saw you last, so I’m behind on the gossip.”

She shrugged.  “It’s summer, I wanted to try the California beaches.  And the hunks on them.”

He wrinkled his nose.  “Gross.  Anyway, do you know where the entrance is?”

She sighed and stretched.  “Yeah,” she popped her gum, “I can walk you there.  If you don’t come out, I’ll be pissed and I’ll teach your dog to rip up your shoes.”

He snorted.  “You do realize I’m wearing my only pair, right?  So, you mean you’ll give my dog to Lacey and I’ll never get him back after she spoils him.”

She cocked her head, considering.  “Yeah, that sounds like a better threat.”  She looked at the other two and wrinkled her nose.  “Why are you with these guys?”

“Hey,” he nudged her, “these are my friends and questmates.  Don’t diss ‘em.  This guy was apparently trying to find me for two whole years,” he thumbed at Grover, “so he’s put up with too much of my shit to be insulted like this.”

She snorted.  “Fair enough.  Take care of my baby idiot, okay?  Okay.  Let’s walk, it’s just around the corner.”

She took them to DOA Recording Studios and gestured at them.  “If you’re not back in New York in a week, I’m telling on you,” she threatened.

She walked away after returning his middle finger and Annabeth leaned over.  “Tell on you to who?”

He grinned.  “A friend.  So that was Kelli, what do you think?”

Grover laughed shakily.  “She’s kind of…”

Percy nudged him.  “A bitch?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it exactly like that…”

“I would have,” he snickered, “she is, and she knows it.”

“She defended you against another monster,” Annabeth said slowly, “it was… kind of nice, I guess.”

“I told you,” he nudged her, “just like people can be monsters, monsters can be people too.”

She looked like she wanted to ask, but he opened the door and walked inside before she could.

“Howdy,” he said to the man in the fancy suit manning the desk, “three for the Underworld, please.”

The man peered down at them and raised an eyebrow.  “Well,” he said dryly, “this is refreshing.  You want to go to the Underworld?”

Percy shrugged.  “Might as well get it over with.”

“Oh really, and how did you die?”

Percy swallowed and slipped his hand into his pocket.  He stilled as his fingers touched the pen.

“Drowned,” Grover blurted, “in a-”

“Riptide,” Percy cut him off.

The man, whose nametag Percy wasn’t even going to bother to try and read, made a noise of understanding.  “Nasty things,” he cooed mockingly, “maybe it just wasn’t your day to go swimming.  Regardless, no money, no passage.”

“Ah,” Percy blinked and pulled his bag forward, “would that be American or…?”

“Greek,” he scoffed.

Percy hummed.  “Cool.  One each, right?”

He set three golden drachma on the counter and the man froze.

“Well,” he said silkily, “that does change things.  You have drachma, children?  Now that’s odd.”

“Our parents were old fashioned and hellenistic,” Annabeth said quickly, “made sure we always had some just in case.”

“Smart of them,” he grumbled, “but did you really think I wouldn’t notice?  No, you three are much too alive for passage to the Underworld.  I think I’ll take this-”

Percy snatched the drachma back.  “Okay, that’s enough.  Dude.  Did she not call ahead?  We have a delivery.  You guys have my mom.”

The man stilled, then swore.  “You’re Her Majesty’s guests?!  You were due days ago, the palace is in an uproar!  Your mother, young man, is practically tearing us apart!  Hurry, pay the toll and we’ll be off, we can’t afford to delay any longer!  Ugh, I’m not paid enough for this.  “Become a ferryman” they said, “the benefits are amazing!”  The benefits are garbage!”

Percy gave the drachma back and they were snatched from his grasp.  They were ushered into the elevator so swiftly, the man’s, Charon’s, warning to the shades in the waiting room was hissed and rushed, and soon they were floating down the river at a steady clip.

“Don’t fall in,” Charon grunted, “and don’t get lost.”

The boat hit the far shore and Charon snapped his fingers, lanyards with little yellow cards that had a smiley face and read “VISITOR” falling around their necks.

“Don’t take those off,” he pointed, “and go straight to the palace.”

Percy handed over another seven drachma.  “Thanks.”

“Oh,” Charon muttered, “you’re… welcome.”

Percy could only imagine how much more hostile the Underworld would have seemed if they weren’t waved through every checkpoint.  Cerberus gave them a glance and waved his tail, then went back to his very serious duty of guarding the E-Z Death lane.  The Underworld was packed, and walking past the Fields of Asphodel was chilling.  It wasn’t scary, or anything, but it was… sad.  Endless nothing, for the rest of time.  Better than punishment, for sure, but still something of a terrible mindlessness that made Percy itch.

They slowed a little as they got within range of Elysium, golden and bright, and Annabeth sighed.

“I want to go there,” she pointed, “right in the middle.  The Isles of the Blessed.”

Percy frowned.  “How do you get there?”

“You have to be reborn,” she explained wistfully, “lose all your memories and then try to get Elysium three times.”

“How will you know how many times you’ve done it, though?”

She hesitated.  “I think… when you die, you’re told.  Or you get your memories back, maybe?”

“It sounds really nice,” Grover sighed, “just regular Elysium, I mean.  I think if I didn’t turn into a plant when I died, I’d want to stay there forever.”

“Well I mean, it looks like there’s trees,” Percy pointed out, “so maybe you can be an Elysium tree.”

Grover cracked a grin.  “Yeah, let’s hope, huh?”

“Come on,” Annabeth cast one last glance at the paradise, “we don’t have time to waste.”

They kept following the path that winded up to the palace, but when they came to a fork in the road, Grover stumbled.

Percy frowned and put a hand on his arm.  “You good, man?”

His hand fell as Grover was ripped from his side, the winged shoes coming to life as he yelped in terror, dragging him down the side path.  Percy lunged after him, but they were putting a lot of distance in, dragging Grover along the ground.

“Take off the shoes,” Annabeth yelled, “the shoes!”

But Grover couldn’t lean over to undo the laces, and he kept thudding against the ground and scraping on the rocks.  He tried to dig his feet in, but it was only when his foot hit a rock and he screamed that one of the shoes came loose enough to fall off.  With his speed cut in half, Percy and Annabeth were able to grab on and slow him down until the other shoe pulled itself off, kicked them in the head, and followed its twin down into the pit not twenty feet in front of them.

It yawned, just like it did in the dream, and Grover’s wince as he got to his feet and put pressure on his ankle sounded both impossibly loud and swallowed up entirely at the same time.

“Go,” Percy muttered, face rapidly paling as he felt like something was waking up to watch, “go go go-”

They half ran, half hauled Grover up and out as it seemed like the pit breathed in, sucking at their clothes and trying to entice them into its gaping maw before they managed to pull clear.

“We should really,” Percy breathed, “really stop saying can’t.”

“It could still be someone else,” Annabeth said miserably.

Percy maneuvered so he could dig into Grover’s backpack and took out the shoebox, burying his nose in it.  He looked up with an unreadable expression, thoughts whirling.

“Smells like Luke,” he muttered, “Feathers, new shoes… sand.”

“You’re wrong,” Annabeth bit out when she processed it, “wouldn’t you have mentioned that if they smelled like sand before?!”

“Why would I just know what sand smells like off the top of my head?”

“Why would you know what a love song smells like?”

He paused.  “Touche.  Though that one I can kind of hear.”

“It’s not Luke,” she cried, “it isn’t!  It can’t-” she cut herself off with a grimace before insisting, “it isn’t.”

“You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend,” Grover pointed out quietly, eyes closed like he couldn’t bear it, face stricken.

Annabeth stared at them listlessly before whispering, “he can’t.”

Percy winced and adjusted his grip on Grover.  “Maybe he was tricked,” he reasoned, though his heart wasn’t in it, “maybe he’s not the one who cursed the shoes.  But we won’t find out standing here.  Come on.”

They helped Grover up the path to the palace.  It was a gorgeous building, all black marble and decorated with precious metals.  There were carvings of people dying in various ways, from the mundane to the gruesome to the bizarre, and Percy wondered if they were real, and if so, if they were carved before or after they came to pass.

The skeleton guards made Percy shudder, remembering the dream, but let them pass with one glance at their visitor passes, until they were in a throne room.

In as close to unison as they could get, they bowed.

“Lord and Uncle,” Percy murmured, “thanks for not killing us instantly.”

The regal looking god snorted and stood.  “Your mother would be most upset.  Give me my helm, and I will take you to her.”

Annabeth shrugged off her bag and opened it, holding out the baseball cap with shaky hands.  Hades strode forward and took it gently, making it ripple into a traditional Greek helmet and the aura following it flared.  Percy put a hand to his nose briefly before the smell faded.  He looked up to see dark eyes looking at him with unreadable emotions.  The eyes were a very familiar color, like dark pits, and he looked away.  He felt so cold, like winter had come early, and it smelled like fire and shadow and rot under the freezing cold.

“Your neighbor wanted a visit too,” he said with a levity he didn’t feel, “something to do with the symbol we were carrying.”

He raised an eyebrow.  “The two, you mean.  In your new looking bag.”

Percy paused, then checked the bag Ares had given them.  It was kind of heavy now that Hades pointed it out, and opening it slightly revealed a bronze tube.

“‘The hand off was successful,’” he blinked, “wow.  Wait, why would the War Lord just hand this over to us?”

Hades shrugged.  “Likely he assumed I would kill you and start a war with both of my brothers.  Zeus would be incandescent to have been proved right, since you had the lightning bolt, and at me for keeping it.  Poseidon would be mad that I killed his son and that Zeus doubled down on your guilt.  And I, of course, would have to fight back.  I never liked that kid.  Too bloodthirsty.”

Annabeth’s mouth opened and closed, but then she relaxed.  “Oh my gods,” she breathed out, “I assumed we’d have to go find it.”

“Weight off my back,” Percy muttered, “literally.”

“Yes,” Hades hummed, “keep that, will you?  Come along, now, Sally has been most anxious.”

“Wait,” Percy trailed after, “how do you know that I didn’t steal the lightning bolt?”

Hades kept walking even as Grover dug an elbow into his side to shut him up, and Percy completely forgot he had asked when they walked into a crystal flower garden and he saw his mom sitting at a table reading a book, the quilt tucked around her legs.  She looked up and dropped them, uncaring that she definitely lost her place and that the quilt was now pooling on the ground, and ran forward.

“Percy,” she breathed, running her hands over his face before looking at Grover and Annabeth with just as much care, “oh, you’re all safe.  I was so worried.”

Percy cracked a grin.  “I see you got the quilt.  Sorry we took so long…”

She wrapped them all in quick but strong hugs.  “You got here in time,” she promised, “it’s enough.”

“Emmeline Baker.”

They all blinked, but Percy flinched.

He turned to Hades slowly.  “What?”

The god stood impassively, the only part of him moving the screaming faces that made up his chiton and himation.  “You asked how we knew,” he said quietly, “and it was Emmeline Baker.  For a child of Hypnos, she was quite loud.”

Percy laughed and tried to ignore how wet it sounded.  “Yeah,” he croaked, “she was a morning person.  It was a little weird.”

“She insisted on waiting for you,” Hades mused impassively, “and was quite descriptive.  You were very clearly my brother’s child, so I sent one of my Furies to observe you, when it was clear you weren’t going to follow Emmeline down.”

“Emmy,” he said, “she preferred Emmy.  Where…?”

“Elysium.”

He relaxed a little.  “I’m glad.  So your Fury, she saw I was innocent?”

Hades shrugged.  “You were accounted for at all times.  My brother’s children are powerful, but not to the point that they can be in multiple places at once.  I believe you were… drowning your sorrows in beignets?  And,” he sighed, “Hypnos is in my court.  You tried your best to save a chthonic child.  I can support that.”

His mom ran a hand through his hair.  “Percy…”

He closed his eyes.  “I really,” he breathed out shakily, “really hate manticores.”

He felt a hand rest awkwardly on his shoulder and glanced up to see Hades not looking at him.  He looked so awkward, it was like he wasn’t a god at all, and Percy couldn’t help but smile.  He glanced at his mom and she gave him a matching look of endeared amusement.

“We still need to get the bolt home,” Annabeth cut in reluctantly, “and we only have a limited amount of time to do it.”

Hades nodded, seemingly thankful for the disruption as he swiftly removed his hand like it was never there.  “The three of you can use the Orpheus exit,” he said, “it exits in Central Park.  It does require continuous music, however, and good music at that.  Are any of you capable of that?”

Grover winced.  “Uhh, I’ve heard I’m not actually that great at my panpipes.  Percy’s pretty good at singing…?”

He grimaced.  “No I’m not.”

“Yeah you are,” Grover and Annabeth said in unison, and Sally snorted.  

“You’ve always loved singing,” she said with no small amount of mirth, “I’m glad to know you kept up with it.”

He felt his face flush.  “I’m not going to sing.  Is there another way out that also lets out in New York?  Or can’t you just… transport us there?  Please, Uncle?”

Hades hummed.  “That counts as too much interference.  But someone else can transport you.”

He did an amazing rendition of a cab whistle and waited impassively.

They stood there for a few moments before there was a whoosh and a large dog erupted from under the table, sprinting directly for Percy.  He took a few steps away from the others and braced himself, but noted the claws were not out and ready to maul him, even if the dog was too big to not knock him over.  He grinned into the shadowy black fur of the dog’s chest.

“Hi Bean,” his emotions were still a little raw from the memories, but he was just so glad to see his dog again.  It hadn’t felt like it had been all that long, but he knew it had been a week since they’d seen each other.  Bean was vibrating on top of him, his tail audibly thumping against the ground and his chest completely up in Percy’s mouth and drying any tears.

He unburied his face and ignored the tongue painting the side of his face with slobber as he looked at Hades with a wide eye (the other was shut because of the hot tongue currently covering him in stinging drool, obviously).  “He’s up already?”

Hades shrugged, seemingly apathetic.  “He recovers quickly.  Nyx must like him.  Regardless, if you can convince him, he is capable of returning you to the surface.  If he’s taking all three of you at once, he won’t be able to make more than one trip, however, so if you don’t end up where you want, you’ll have to find your own way back.”

“Better than having to rely on my musical talents,” Percy said immediately, “let’s do it.  Wait.”  He shoved Bean off a little, vigorously scratching his ear to make up for it as he sat up.  “What do you mean, three?  There’s four of us.”

Hades’ expression tightened.  “Your mother is not safe until my brother is placated.  I will return her when you are entirely successful, but if I let her go now, she would be a burned husk before you could blink.”

It was not said cruelly, simply laid out as dry fact, but Percy still flinched.

“I’ll be alright,” Sally patted his cheek, leaning down and letting Bean sniff her.  Percy pushed the hellhound’s muzzle away from her before his lip could curl and the dog looked at him adoringly again.  He was bigger than Percy lengthwise by about two feet and at least a hundred pounds, but this was the most passive Percy had ever seen him.  Still, he wasn’t about to let his dog maul his mom, or any of his friends.

“Besides,” she smiled coyly, “the company isn’t terrible, and the food is delicious.”

Percy eyed Hades suspiciously.  The man’s face was still impassive, but the very tips of his ears might have been red, or it might have been the light shining off of the rubies that made up some flowers.

“Up,” he patted his dog and Bean rolled into a stand, tail still wagging.  He stood beside the dog and glared at the fact that Bean standing was only a few inches shorter than him.  He’d gotten even bigger since he’d seen him last.  Soon he’d be the size of a small car.

“It was still the twentieth when we got down here,” he thought out loud, “so we have all day tomorrow to get to Olympus, right?”

Hades nodded.  “I wouldn’t dally,” he said warningly, “if you can get into the solstice meeting in three hours, you’re far more likely to get out alive.  My youngest brother’s irrationality can be tempered by the presence of others, to a degree.  It would be much harder for him to eliminate you if you were conquering heroes where anyone could see.”

Percy felt a little faint at the “reassurance.”  Would Zeus really kill him, kill them, even after they returned his bolt?  Even if it was just when nobody was watching, the idea that their reward could be getting turned to ashes…

“If we do get vaporized, can we haunt you?  Also, Grover wants to be an Elysium tree.”

Grover made a noise like he was trying to decide whether to yell at him or laugh and Annabeth just sighed.

Hades looked at him incredulously.  “No.”

“Damn,” Percy muttered, “sorry Grover, I did my best.”

“That’s not- regardless,” Hades pinched the bridge of his nose, “go swiftly.”

Percy looked at Bean.  “Um.  How?”

Hades sighed.  “He’ll need a running start, so I advise getting on his back and directing him where to go.  Perhaps a location he’s been before, or to a person he’s met.”

“If he can smell me, you can travel to my apartment,” his mom pointed out, “even if he’s never been there before, it should still smell like me.”

Percy considered it for a moment, then shrugged.  “Let’s hope.  Bean, come here, this is my mom, you were interested in her before, right?”

He nudged his dog over to where his mom was holding out her hands for him to sniff, which he did readily.

“I told you about my mom,” he kept going, not looking up at her in sudden shyness, “remember?  Told you all about her, how she’d never let me keep you, then probably give in and spoil you rotten.  It was only like, two years ago, remember bud?  And now she’s letting you break into her house where there’s definitely some food going bad, huh?  Don’t think I’m going to let you eat that, that’s gross.”

Bean wagged his tail and barked, lolling out his tongue at Percy.

“Looks like we’re good,” he shrugged, “everyone hop on the Bean Town Express.”

Grover looked like he’d rather do anything else.  “This doesn’t feel safe,” he said tentatively, “I know you say he’s tame, but you also said mostly, and I dunno if I feel comfortable with mostly.  I think I’m willing to test the panpipes now, actually.  People putting me down were just bullies, I fully believe I’m actually really good-”

“Come on, goat boy,” Annabeth sighed, “I’m ready to be home.”

She dragged him over and Percy tried to keep Bean from looking at the two of them, scrunching up his face and cooing, scratching all around.  He bet his whole head could fit in Bean’s mouth.  When she put a hand on his back to boost Grover up, he could no longer keep his attention occupied, but Bean just seemed to want to smell them.  He spent an extra long time sniffing Grover, much to the satyr’s panic, but eventually went back to sniffing in the direction of Percy’s mom.

Finally they were all situated, and Sally walked forward with a soft smile.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” she said, “and I’ll see you again soon, I promise.  And you’re right, I probably would spoil your dog.  If you think you’re ready for the responsibility, you can keep him.”

“Mom,” Percy groused, “he’s a little big for an apartment.  And he’s just going to keep getting bigger.  You know that, right?”

She shrugged.  “He makes you happy.”

She said it like it was the simplest thing in the world, and Percy felt like his heart was going to burst.

“That’s okay,” he choked out, “he’s a bit of a free spirit.  ‘S why we get along so well.”

She gave the hellhound one last pat as Percy hauled himself up, sitting right on his shoulders.  Annabeth immediately leaned forward to grab at him as Bean moved under them, squishing a squeaking Grover between them.

“Sooner we’re off, sooner we can get off,” he joked, “so let’s get going.  Bean, go to mom’s apartment!”

Bean took off eagerly, diving into a shadow, and Percy’s tight grip on his ruff was the only reason he didn’t fall off at the sudden onslaught of cold.  Unlike Hades’ winter, this was just the empty void, the darkness of night and the cool of shade.  It froze and warmed him, held him and repelled, and he didn’t know if his eyes were squeezed shut or wide open and simply taking in nothing as the endless void stretched out in front of him.

Suddenly, he was blinking back tears as the regular night sky seemed like daylight.  They weren’t in his mom’s apartment, he realized as he adjusted and they all stumbled off of the dog with groans and whimpers, and Bean slouched onto the ground, almost immediately starting to snore.

“Where,” Annabeth panted, “where are we?  This isn’t New York.  Oh no, Percy-!”

He looked around, taking in the lights, the buildings, the environment, and his heart sank a little.

“Oh,” he said quietly, “we’re in the place I told Bean about mom.  He did remember me talking about her, but he remembered this as the place where I did it, instead of following her scent.  Shit.”

Grover tilted his head up.  “It smells like chocolate,” he muttered, “where are we?”

Percy grimaced.  “The only other amusement park I’ve been to,” he said dryly, “Hershey, Pennsylvania.”

Annabeth blew out a breath.  “Okay, but we’re not too far from New York.  We can get a cab…  Oh, no, it’s ten!”  She pointed at a big digital sign that had the time on it, 9:47.  “Would we even be able to find a taxi?  We need to look at public transportation…”

Percy remembered Hershey.  After spending some time with Bean (and telling him about his mom, and then killing him), he’d visited the park on a whim to try and find some blue candy, since his mom’s birthday would have been the month after. Unfortunately, there’d been a harpy that had been good enough at manipulating a crowd that she’d easily convinced people to call security on him.  It had seemed a day for cops, because shortly after, he’d met…

Ohhhhhhh.

“Hang on,” Percy said, “we might not need public transport at all.  Do you guys have quarters?  There’s a payphone nearby, if I’m remembering right…”

Annabeth and Grover pooled their quarters with his, giving him a grand total of two quarters.  It wasn’t much, but it should be fine.

He did manage to find the payphone and rang the number he’d memorized.

“This better not be another telemarketer.”

He grinned.  “Now Red, that implies you pick up the phone every time.”

“Ajax!”   She sounded much happier.  “It’s ten pm, why are you calling?  And from where?  Good to hear you’re not dead, by the way.”

He shrugged, even knowing she couldn’t see it.  “Yeah, listen, I’m calling in my favor.  Me and two friends need a ride to New York, stat.  Fate of the world depends on us.”

“Yes, Red, it’s so good to hear from you Red, how’s life been, Red.”

“Literally when have I ever called you just to catch up?”

She paused.  “Good point.  Okay, where are you?”

“Hershey.  Pretty much right outside the park.”

“Wow, now that’s a trip down memory lane.”

“Tell me about it!  That’s why I remembered to call you.”

“Oh Ajax, you say the sweetest things.”

“You know it.”

“Okay, I have a car on the way.  You remember Jean?”

He snorted.  “I bet Jean still remembers me.”

“He likes you,” she laughed, “you’re definitely the favorite out of everyone else.”

“That is such a low bar when Serephone exists.”

“TRUE!  Okay, anyway, he’s about ten minutes out, you can tell him where you need to go.  Are you going to be in New York for a while?”

“Why, are you?”

“For another week, it looks like, then back again at the end of August before school.”

“Imagine going to school, could not be me.”

“Ajax, I can turn Jean around.”

“Wait!”

“Okay, I won’t keep you, I know you shouldn’t be on a call for too long.”

He softened.  “Thanks, Red.  If I can, I’ll go heckle you while I’m in town.  It’s been too long.”

She huffed.  “Damn right.  Bye, Ajax.”

“Bye, Red.”

He hung up the phone and turned back to the other two with a smile.

“We’re getting a free ride,” he grinned, “and it’s gonna be swanky.”

“Who was that?”  Annabeth was looking at him like she’d never seen him.  “You just… had someone’s number memorized?  How did you even meet them on the run?”

Percy grinned sheepishly.  “Red.  Rachel Elizabeth Dare.  We met when she called the cops on me because she was clear sighted and I didn’t realize what the smell thing meant yet, so I offered her a sword.”

“She’s a mortal?”

He shrugged.  “Yeah, she hangs out with me and the empousai gang sometimes.  Or, more like, every so often the empousai gang crashes one of her dad’s parties, because she makes sure they know about them, and if I’m in the area or warned in advance, I also go.  We cause problems on purpose, mostly, because all the cool kids hate Red’s dad.”

Grover gasped.  “Dare Enterprises?!  They have terrible environmental policies!  Their waste is immense!”

Percy grinned.  “We know, that’s why we hate him.  If we can steal money from him, we donate it all to charities that work on clean up.  We’re kind of his worst nightmare.”

Grover blinked.  “Why did she call you Ajax, though?”

“Oh, right,” he laughed, “so… I call her Red, her initials and also the color of her hair, and she calls me Ajax because… Perseus Achilles Jackson, Percy A. Jackson, Ajax.  She said if I was named after two Greek heroes already, she could call me a third one, and it’s also sort of my initials.”

“So you met her on the run and even though you were still on your own, you managed to make a friend,” Annabeth was quiet.  “That’s… good.”

He beamed.  “Oh, shoot,” he said, scrambling away from the payphone, “we just left Bean-”

He ran back over to where he’d left his dog and faltered at the depression in the grass, but no shadow dog to be found.  He deflated as Annabeth helped Grover back over and plopped down on the grass where his snoring dog had seemingly dissolved back into shadow.  They sat in companionable silence, the night warm even as there were stormclouds rumbling above them.

“If you don’t mind,” Annabeth started, “why did you run away when you were… eight, right?”

He hummed.  “Just a few weeks after, yeah.  Uh, well.  Grover, you know part of it.”

Grover nodded reluctantly.  “Gabe.  The one who smelled gross.”

Percy snorted.  “He did.  Well, my mom married him when I was five, because apparently my dad made my scent a bit too strong.  I don’t super remember, but Gabe was the kind of guy that was nice for about the first thirty seconds before he revealed his true colors.  But by that time, mom had already committed, and she would do anything to keep me safe.”  He pursed his lips.  “Even marry a guy like that.”

He leaned back and looked at the sky, knowing that even without the cloud cover, he probably still wouldn’t be able to see the stars, though he wished he could.  “I probably wasn’t the only one he was hitting,” he admitted, ignoring how they both tensed, “but he’d, you know, steal my lunch money and tell me it was our little guy secret, meaning if I told my mom, he’d punch my lights out.  I wasn’t super concerned about that part, because get him drunk enough, which was usually the whole weekend, and he’d hit me anyway.  But even at five, six, seven, I knew that if he was willing to hit me to “keep it a secret” then he was definitely willing to hit my mom, and I couldn’t stand that thought.  But,” he sighed, “I probably could have lived with that, getting stolen from and hit.  Sure, I had a bag packed all the time, hidden under a pile of dirty clothes, but I would never go through with it, because I knew that for whatever reason, my mom would stay, and I didn’t think I was justified in leaving her.”

Annabeth frowned.  “But you did.  So what changed?”

Percy pulled his knees up under his chin.  “He’d ask me for money, or to run errands, all the time.  Despite theoretically having a job, he spent most of his days drinking, eating, gambling, and being a general slob.  Then, when he was drunk and none of his buddies or my mom were around, he’d punch and kick me until he was satisfied.  A shower would make the marks go away, so it was whatever.  But, one night, when I was a few weeks past eight, he got really drunk.  He was probably blackout at that point, so there was no way he’d remember anything in the morning, but he made a comment,” he swallowed, “that made it seem like the next time he asked me for something, it wasn’t going to be money.”

He let that sit for a moment before he plowed on, not waiting for them to connect the dots, though it looked like they were either close or in disbelief.  “I didn’t want to stick around to find out if he would remember,” he shrugged, trying to seem careless, “so I ran.  It wasn’t supposed to be for long, but I was way too scared, and every time I thought about going back, I couldn’t do it.  Then two cyclops’ found me, thought it’d be funny to play with their food, and got the shock of their lifetimes when a baby demigod who could barely hold the sword they’d given him turned them both into dust.  And the rest is history.”

Annabeth looked at him with wide eyes.  “Percy…”

Percy jumped up.  “Look, headlights.  I bet that’s Jean.  Man, it’s been ages since I’ve seen him!”

He helped Grover stand and walked them to the Bentley.

“Let’s go,” he smiled easily, “long drive ahead of us.”

Chapter Text

Jean was indeed very pleased to see Percy, asking about how he’d been doing for a few months before letting himself get prompted into talking about everything Mr. Dare was doing, based on Rachel.  Jean was one of the many drivers stationed up and down the East Coast, waiting for any of the Dares to request his services.  The number of people stationed between New York, Pittsburg, and Washington DC was probably in the few dozen, and it happened to be his luck that he was as close to Hershey as he was, probably because Rachel liked to go back every so often.  Percy resolved to offer a sacrifice to Tyche when they got back to camp if they survived this, because the amount of luck they’d been having was really nice.  Sure, any of the drivers would have followed Rachel’s order to drive three probably slightly dirty kids to the Empire State Building, but Jean was more than pleased to relay information he probably shouldn’t, all because it was Percy.  He was a guy in his late twenties or early thirties and probably on Percy’s top ten favorite mortals list for sure.

The three hour ride seemed to pass by pretty quickly with the soft music and partial ranting from either Jean or Percy depending on the subject, and soon their city was pulling into view, still mostly lit up like a beacon in the darkness.

They pulled in front of the Empire State Building at 12:23 am and quickly said their goodbyes.

“He seemed nice,” Grover said hesitantly, “and he… also doesn’t like Mr. Dare.”

“Like I said,” Percy snickered, “all the cool kids hate Mr. Dare.  Come on, we want to get in on that meeting.”

They walked in and the man running the desk flipped a page in his magazine.  “We’re closed,” he said idly, “have been for… twenty four minutes.  Come back tomorrow.”

“We need to get to the 600th floor,” Annabeth said with authority, “and we need to do it yesterday.”

Percy figured that since she’d been up to Olympus this past winter solstice, she probably knew what she was doing, but it didn’t stop him from fidgeting awkwardly when the desk manager looked up with a single raised eyebrow.

“Kid, I don’t know who told you that, but the Empire State doesn’t have a 600th floor.”

She stared him down.  “Phil, you saw me six months ago.  I get we were with a bigger group, but you have seen me every year on the solstice for the past four years.”

The middle aged man sighed, but dropped the facade.  “They’re in a meeting, I can’t let you up.”

“Oh,” Percy snorted, opening his bag a little, “I think they won’t mind.”

Privately, he was relieved the meeting was still apparently going on, even as the man, Phil, paled and tossed her a keycard before ushering them on.  As Annabeth inserted the key and the button for the 600th floor appeared, the elevator music started.

“It’s kinda flattering that both the Underworld and here had us ushered in as fast as possible,” Percy hummed.

“Try terrifying,” Grover grumbled, knuckles white on his backpack straps as he leaned against Percy so one hoof didn’t need to be on the ground, “the fact that both were so eager to get us in is pretty worrying.”

“But we didn’t have to break into either location,” Percy grinned, “and I call that a win.”

“I’m not sure if you could break into Olympus,” Annabeth mused, “flyers have to go through the winds, so unauthorized people would probably get shot out of the sky.  The only other way in is through this elevator, and Phil would hardly give up the key for anything other than official business.  It would take a lot of blackmail or coercion to get him to give it up otherwise.  The Underworld, on the other hand, you have to find a way in, get past whatever guard there is, and then sneak past Cerberus.  Hard, but possible, since way more people have myths about breaking into the Underworld than Olympus.”

“Yeah, but that’s because usually people want something out of the Underworld,” Grover pointed out, “and you kind of don’t usually want something out of Olympus unless the gods are inviting you.  Then it’s more like… a reward, than it is trying to sneak in and steal something.”

Percy got a sly grin on his face and Annabeth smacked him lightly.  “Do not try to break in,” she scolded, “you’ll get smited.  Smitten?  Struck down.  You’ll get vaporized.”

“Aw,” he cooed, “would you miss me?”

She gave a gusty sigh.  “Despite everything… yes.”

He felt himself redden.  This got too real too fast.  “Thanks,” he muttered, “I’d… miss you too.”

“Easy way to not miss each other,” Grover cut in, “don’t test the gods.  I really feel like it shouldn’t even need to be said, but who knows with you two.”

Olympus was gorgeous, all greek architecture and sprawling gardens filled with fully blooming flowers and luscious green trees, sometimes bearing fruit.  Nymphs, nature spirits, and minor gods filled the streets having a tense party since it was the summer solstice, but they would occasionally glance up to the still thundering sky.  It wasn’t raining on them or anything, but it blocked out the stars.

“I think the only reason the height isn’t bothering me is because I’m too focused on putting one foot in front of the other,” Percy yawned, “even with our wack sleep schedule, I’m still not used to being up this late.”

“You should have napped in the car like us,” Annabeth pointed out.

“Napping disorients me so bad,” Grover moaned, “I shouldn’t have given in to the allure.”

“On top of your sprained ankle,” Percy pointed out, “it’s a good thing we’re such good friends.  Maybe you should have waited downstairs, though…”

Grover patted him on the back.  “No, we started this quest together, we’re going to finish it together.”

“Even if it gets all three of us vaporized?”

“They’re still in the meeting,” Annabeth pointed out, “the Under Lord said that would make them less likely to kill us.  Besides, your brain is full of seaweed if you think we’re not going to stick by you.  No betrayals.”

She got quiet at that, and Percy nudged Grover, who passed the nudge on to her.  She gave them a watery smile, even if it was clear her heart wasn’t in it, and finally they reached the temple at the top of the hill.

Percy looked up at the intricate bronze doors and took a deep breath.  They were carved with probably really cool things, but all he could feel was the lightning in the air resonating with the heavy weight in his bag, and everything tingled.

He knocked.

They waited for a few seconds before the door was opened by a younger looking dude who was seriously pretty.  His eyes widened before he ducked back inside, closing the door a little.  There was the hush of voices before it opened fully, and he ushered them inside.

“Who was that,” Percy whispered, “the door dude?”

Annabeth sighed.  “Probably Ganymede.  Shut up.”

 Seeing the full council of the twelve arranged before them, towering at fifteen feet as they sat on their thrones in various emotional states, Percy almost staggered, breathing through his mouth.  His head was swimming a bit with how overwhelmed he was getting, but he managed to calm down and focus on the scent of salt.  He followed it, looking up to see a man who looked a lot like him, but older and with a beard.  He was dressed in a fisherman’s outfit, complete with hat and folding chair, even if it was blown up to the same size as the other thrones.  He looked stormy himself, but was watching Percy with an unreadable expression.  Percy kept breathing through his mouth even as he looked away.  A curl of grape brought his eyes to Mr. D, who looked ever so slightly otherworldly, a little less like he’d let himself go.  His eyes flashed once with something that almost seemed like relief before he looked away, supposedly bored.

Like with his other Uncle, they bowed in as much sync as they could manage so they didn’t disrupt Grover.

“You’re late.”

Percy straightened.  “It’s still the solstice.”

“It was by the solstice,” Zeus’ lip curled, and ozone pierced his nose, “but do you at least have my bolt?  Or are you here to beg for mercy?”

Grover elbowed the sarcasm out of him and he shrugged off the backpack, setting it on the floor and unzipping it.  As carefully as he could, he took out the bronze cylinder and set it on the floor before backing up again.

Zeus raised a hand and it flew into his grip.  He seemed to relax.  “And where did you find it?  With my traitor brother?  Or did you perhaps have it the entire time?”

“With your traitor son, actually.”

Annabeth and Grover tried to tackle him, but Percy just helped support Grover again, expression serious.

Zeus stood, eyes flashing dangerously.  “What did you say?”

Percy stood his ground.  “The bolt was given to us by Lord Ares after we took another item of power from him.”

Ares stood up and cumin and the bray of a hunting dog permeated the air.  “Wanna say that again, punk?”

Percy shrugged.  “Okay.  Check your pocket.  Lady Athena will recognize it, I’m sure.”

Ares stared at him like he’d just processed the other part of Percy’s original statement, but Athena raised an eyebrow.

“Recognize what,” she leaned forward, pencils scratching on the paper and the press of olive oil, “brother?”

With every eye on him, Ares pulled out the Yankees cap, almost unwillingly.  Athena’s eyes narrowed.  “And why would you have that, my gift to my daughter?”

Ares turned to them, thunderous and panicking.  “You stole from me?!”

“It wasn’t yours,” Annabeth’s voice was shaky, “and the original owner wanted it back.”

He stepped forward, but Athena was up in a flash, standing between them and holding her hand out.  Reluctantly, looking around at the anger, impassiveness, or glee on people’s faces, he released it into her grasp.  Her nose wrinkled.  “Underworld magic.  I assume the other stolen object was Hades’ Helm of Darkness, then.”  She looked at Annabeth.  “Your switch was clever.  I will return this to you once it has been cleansed.”

“What I want to know is why,” Apollo said breezily, sunbeams and snakes and solving and the strumming of strings, “Ares had not one, but two objects of power in the first place.  After all, we were all set out to catch the thief, not become one.”  He pretended to think, then shrugged, but it rang with malicious glee.  “Weird!”

Hermes gasped mockingly, feathers and road dust and new shoes and snakes.  “Wasn’t that daughter of his here this past winter?”

Ares bristled.  “She had nothing to do with this-”

“ENOUGH,” Zeus thundered, slamming his fist on the armrest of his throne.  All other smells were suppressed under ozone and sharp wind.  “Ares,” he stared down at his son with nothing but anger in his eyes, “what did you do?”

The god seemed to shrink in fear under the weight of his father’s gaze.  “I… I caught the thief.  I took back the two objects of power.  But it seemed like a waste to bring them back without a little conflict.  I know, it’s stupid, I don’t know what came over me, I regret it, Father, I promise-”

He flinched when Zeus raised a hand.  “Who was the demigod thief.”

It wasn’t a question, but it made Ares sink back more, eyes darting around.  “I don’t know,” he said hoarsely, “I can’t… I can’t remember any distinct features.”

Everyone was instantly in an uproar and Percy would have staggered if Grover and Annabeth hadn’t been there.

“-protecting his daughter-!”

“-clearly lying-”

Zeus banged his fist again and it was instantly silent.  “Apollo.”

The sun god seemed troubled.  “He’s telling the truth.  But no demigod would be able to hide themselves from a god when in direct confrontation.  Most gods couldn’t.”

Percy coughed and Grover whimpered as all heads snapped to them.

“So,” Percy said slowly, “it might interest you to know that this whole thing was orchestrated by this dude in the pit.  The big pit.  He’s kind of a bastard, to be honest.  And we’re not exactly a hundred percent sure on who it is, but… could a titan cover their minion’s identity?  Or make a god think irrationally?  Because Lord Ares passing the bolt to us was… pretty suspicious.  Since if he wanted a little conflict, he could have just kept the weapon…  Maybe used it himself…”

Ares looked thoughtful.  “Oh man,” he muttered, “that’s a good idea…”  He glanced at Zeus and instantly fell silent.

Zeus looked even more pissed, if that was possible, but also there was a spark of something like fear in his eyes.  “And how would you know that?”

“Other than the fact that he tried to pull us into the pit?”  Percy’s voice had a lightness he didn’t really feel, and he hugged Grover tighter.  “I’ve had dreams.  Ones he wanted to show me and ones he didn’t.  He called himself an old man and referred to you all as the "treacherous gods,” if that narrows it down at all.”

“It can’t be him,” Zeus muttered, “he’s gone for good.  No, it must be something else.”

Hera cleared her throat delicately, all rich jewel tones, feathers, and cattle.  “I’m content to absolve Ares of guilt.  He was not in his right mind, and all the stolen items have been returned to their rightful owners.  It seems Poseidon’s broken oath was not the thief after all.”

“Unless,” Aphrodite said coyly, florally fragrant with the tickle of something ringing in his ears, and seafoam and feathers (there were a lot of gods closely associated with birds, weren’t there?), “this was all a trick to absolve him of guilt.  You said Hades lost his helm?  Who’s to say he’s gotten it back already?  Maybe the little heroes have it stashed somewhere.”

Ares’ head snapped up.  “Persephone!  I knew she was there for no good reason!  That’s why she talked to you three!   Oh, that sly b…”  He glanced at Demeter and decided not to finish that thought.

“Yeah,” Percy said, “considering we just got in and out of the Underworld for the low low price of three drachma and were practically let out, that’s probably not the case.”

“Plus,” Hermes hummed consideringly, “it’s not like he’s sent any minions after the boy.  The last time one of his brothers had a child-”  He cut himself off with a nervous glance to the Lord of the Sky, since it had just rippled with thunder and lightning.

“Regardless,” Hera sniffed, “whatever the thing in the pit is, it didn’t get what it desires and will never escape, so the matter is resolved.  Dionysus will keep an eye on the camp to identify the traitor and bring them to justice, and all will be well again.”

“Actually,” Poseidon spoke up for the first time, sea salt and storms and horses and rich earth, “there is one other matter to be resolved.”

He was inspecting his fingernails, not looking up, until Hera sighed in exasperation.

“Yes?”

He looked up, pretending to be surprised.  “Why,” he gasped, “there were two things that had a summer solstice deadline, I believe.  Don’t you have something to say, brother?”

Zeus’ face started to turn red, then purple.  “I.  Apologize.”

Poseidon put a hand on his cheek.  “For?”  He drew the word out as if he knew it would be extra annoying.

“Accusing you.  Of stealing.  My bolt.”

Poseidon held his gaze for a moment before waving him off.  “Apology accepted.  Do we have a god of dentists?  It sounded like you cracked a tooth from how hard you were grinding your teeth, there, brother.  You might want to get that checked out.”

“Oh gods,” Annabeth muttered, “it’s genetic.”

“Regardless,” Poseidon hummed, “I’m not exactly pleased with Ares being let off scot free.  He almost caused war, after all, and despite that arguably being in his nature, this war would have been catastrophic.  Since my one and only son got threatened at every turn on this quest,” his eyes flashed at Zeus like he knew about Echidna, “perhaps his one and only daughter we keep talking about should go on a quest of her own, to restore her father’s honor.”

Ares didn’t look like that was such a terrible thing, and Annabeth’s face relaxed in confirmation that this wasn’t really a punishment at all.

“And until she can manage it,” Poseidon continued, “Ares is confined to Olympus.  After all, it was only the freedoms you afforded him, brother, that meant he could go out and try to manipulate my son’s quest.  But I kept to the noninterference policy.”

“How can I give her a quest,” Ares grit his teeth, “if I can’t leave?”

Poseidon shrugged.  “I guess she’ll have to get a quest from the Oracle just like Perseus did.  Whenever that happens.”

Ares went to protest before Zeus raised his hand.  “That seems fair,” his voice was impassive, “now that demigods are returning to quests, I’m sure it will be no time at all until she is sent out and succeeds.  Or do you think she would not succeed, my son?”

Ares scowled.  “She will,” he swore.

“Then there are no disagreements.  Until Ares’ daughter successfully completes a quest, he will be confined to Olympus and unable to directly manipulate the mortal world.  Meeting adjourned.”

Most gods wasted no time leaving, only some casting glances at the demigods in their midst.  Dionysus didn’t spare them a glance, waving a hand in their direction and disappearing, and as each god vanished, Percy relaxed bit by bit.

Soon, the only smell left was salt.

“Perseus.”

His head snapped up.  “Oh.  Um.  Hello… father?”

Poseidon’s expression… couldn’t be called warm, but it wasn’t disdainful or hostile in any way, nor was it indifferent.  If Percy had to pick out what his eyes were showing, it was calm seas in perfect turquoise, picking up a decent wave but not enough to be a threat to anyone.  He relaxed.

“I wish we could meet under better circumstances,” Poseidon said, “but thank you.  You’ve brought me honor, despite the circumstances of your birth.”

Percy tensed.  That sounded like the prophecy, almost.  “Yeah, about that,” he said, “did you know that I can smell demigods?  Like monsters can?  The War Lord mentioned something about being one of three.  Me, one of your daughters whose name starts with a K, and another daughter whose name starts with a Ch that got turned into a whirlpool.”

Poseidon’s expression dropped and he paled a little.  Percy almost felt like he had more grey in his salt and pepper hair and beard than he had a few seconds ago, but could that happen?  He guessed with gods, anything was possible.

“Oh,” the god said quietly.

Percy grimaced.  “That doesn’t fill me with a lot of confidence, uh, father.”  Was that too formal?  Too informal?  How did he refer to the absentee god he had for a dad?

Poseidon turned to mutter to himself in ancient Greek, and Percy could only pick one word out of five, before he turned back, eyes much less calm.  “You’re certain?”

He gave Annabeth a side eye and she pursed her lips back.  None of them were feeling very good about this so far, and she and Grover both looked worried.

“Well,” he said reluctantly, “probably not exactly like monsters, since they all smell like things rather than food, but I can pretty accurately guess people’s godly parents just by smelling them, so I’d say so.”

Poseidon gave a weary sigh, almost a groan.  “I’m so sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“Yeeaaaah, so what did happen?  How?  Why, I guess?”

Poseidon looked impossibly sad.  “I am not the only advent of sea monsters.  I am not even the most frequent.  I believe that honor lies with Phorcys or Keto, as the gods of the deep and sea monsters respectively.  But… I am still not exactly known for my nice children.  Rhodes, I believe, is my nicest child.  I… had assumed that no demigod would ever come from that aspect of me, but it’s been so long since I’ve had a mortal child…”

Percy squinted.  “So you think the reason I have a, what, an extra aspect of yours, is because of the oath?  So your next kid was almost guaranteed to get it?”

Poseidon nodded slowly.  “Even before the oath, it had been forty odd years since my last child.  With the oath, that makes it… a century?  Since I last had a child?”  He closed his eyes.  “And I cursed you.  I regret it.  I’m sorry you were born.”

Percy flinched.  Hard.  Poseidon didn't seem to notice, but Grover held him tighter.

“There’s a possibility that it won’t matter,” the god continued to muse, “as I’ve never had a demigod child with that aspect of myself.  But I’m afraid you might come across as scary or unsettling, simply by your nature.  It’s possible that demigods will shun you, because you might put off the same feeling a monster does, which will unnerve them.”

Annabeth reached behind Grover and grabbed Percy’s shirt.  He glanced over and she looked at him with a determined expression.  He felt himself relax minutely as she gave him a smile, and he couldn’t help but smile back.  She waved her free hand and his eyes locked onto the paracord bracelet in green, blue, and grey.  He thought of Kat, and Jake, and Ariana, and Lacy, and Spencer, and Sherman.  Of all the people in camp who hadn’t abandoned him when his parentage had come out, and even some of the ones who had, but had been getting closer again before he’d left.  Of Clarisse, who was going to be sent on a quest because of her own father’s poor decisions.  He determined right then and there that even if half the camp grew to avoid him or hated him forever, he’d always have someone, and that would be enough.

“Thanks,” he said suddenly, seemingly addressing his father, but by Annabeth’s surprised expression, she’d gotten the message that it was really for her.  “I’ll keep that in mind.  We should probably go, though.”

Poseidon blinked.  “You don’t wish to stay for the celebration?  It will be much more lively than you saw coming in.”

He yawned, and it wasn’t even faked.  “We’re exhausted, and Grover needs to not be walking around on his ankle.”

“I thought you noticed,” the god rumbled with something almost like laughter but more like a building wave, “Dionysus healed him already.”

Grover blinked and put his hoof down, then gasped.  “The pain is gone,” he said in wonder, “Mr. D did that for me…?”

“He’s always had a soft spot for satyrs and other nature spirits,” Poseidon chuckled, “and it seems he was pleased with the outcome of the quest as well.”

“Huh,” Percy muttered, “I guess he’s not going to turn us into dolphins.”

His father’s eye twitched at that, but Percy didn’t know if it was in annoyance or amusement, and he watched as the god walked over awkwardly.  He glanced at the other two, since they were all still tangled up despite Grover not really needing the support, and neither made any move to get away from him.

Poseidon awkwardly put a hand on his shoulder and Percy had a flashback to his uncle.  The other two refused to move, staring blankly at the god like they didn’t understand why he was looking at them.  Eventually, he sighed and gave them a smile before walking out.

Grover waited until he was gone before turning to Percy.  “Better or worse than the Rich Lord?”

Percy tilted his head back in thought.  “…Worse.”

They all exchanged glances before breaking down into exhausted snickers.

“Oh man,” Grover sighed, “now we have to walk back down and get back to camp.”

“Small mercies,” Percy snorted, “New York never sleeps, so we can get a cab.”

Annabeth thumped her head on Grover’s arm.  “I don't want to walk anywhere.  But I also don’t want to ride in a car again.  I just want to sleep in a real bed, take another shower, eat something…”

“No Hotel Olympus for us,” Grover grumbled, “I might be all hoteled out.  Also I don’t think they have a hotel.”

They disentangled enough to walk normally, but were still close enough to touch, and made their way back down the hill.  The party was indeed much more lively as the sky cleared, but none of them wanted to linger.  They almost got to the steps to the elevator when a nymph practically ran into them.

“This is for you,” she said cheerfully, giggling and then stumbling back to the party, message delivered.  Percy looked at the small business card Grover was now holding.  He gave it a sniff as Grover read out the New York address in confusion.

Flowers and fertilizer.

He gasped.  “That’s from Lady Spring, which means…!”

They all grinned.

“Let’s go,” Annabeth nudged him, “and see the cooler parent.”

Sally was more than happy to let them in, looking just as tired as they were.  She managed to get the shortened version of what had happened between the time they’d seen each other last while they took turns bathing in the single bathroom, and then she got them all set up in her room.  She had a queen size bed, so it was a tight fit for the three of them, but they didn’t mind much other than pinning Grover’s legs down so he’d stop accidentally kicking them in his sleep.

Upon waking up to the smell of pancakes, they all blearily opened their eyes.  Annabeth’s gaze locked onto Percy’s and she smiled.

“You drool in your sleep,” she snorted, pointing at the pillow.

He felt his face redden and willed the water dry.  “What?  No I don’t.”

“I saw it,” she pointed at him, “you can’t trick me.”

“Guys,” Grover said plaintively, “pancakes.”

They hobbled into the kitchen and Sally beamed at them.  “I was going to wake you soon, I don’t have quite enough for everyone yet.”

There was a medium stack of blue pancakes, maybe seven tall, on a plate beside her where she was cooking three more.

Percy got the first set of four pancakes by virtue of a combination of baby seal eyes and winning the rock paper scissors death match.  Annabeth got hers next, then Grover, and finally, Sally sat down with her own, even if they were mostly already done.

“Do you three need a ride back to camp?”  She asked in between bites, with her eyes constantly flicking between them like she was trying to memorize their faces.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” Annabeth blushed, twirling a golden curl with her free hand.

“Man,” Percy muttered, “and I’d promised Red I’d heckle her.  I guess we can hold off until the last week in August.”

“I need to not be outside camp borders today,” Grover sighed into the table, “I think I really, really need that break.”

Sally laughed as they patted him on the back.  “Yeah, I can do that.  Then I’ll figure out how work is doing.  I’ll be here, I promise.”

Percy grabbed the other two’s plates.  “I’ll wash the dishes, give me your plate when you’re done with it, mom.”

She blinked.  “Oh you don’t have to…”

She trailed off as he turned the faucet on and used the water to clean the plates pretty quickly.  He grabbed a bit of soap just to be sure, and when he rinsed off the suds, the plates and forks were sparkling and in the drain rack.

“Well, that’s handy,” she said in amusement.

“Using your god given powers to wash the dishes,” Annabeth shook her head jokingly, “what would your father say.”

“Ah yes,” Percy stroked his imaginary beard and made his voice deeper, “it seems you’ve also inherited my dishwashing domain.  No child of mine has gotten that one in three whole centuries!”

“Oh of course,” she nodded, “everyone knows he’s the god of scullery.”

“I have no idea what that means so I’m going to assume it's a funny word for dishwashing.”

Annabeth’s eyes lit up in challenge and he groaned, pointing.  “And I’m not going to school, you can’t make me!”

“Oh, Percy,” his mom said, “that reminds me, what’s… what’s your plan for the school year?”

He wrinkled his nose.  “Not school.  I mean, I’ve missed… five whole years of school.  Not only would it be really hard to catch up, but also I don’t want to.  Between the dyslexia and the ADHD, I think it sounds like real actual torture and I would rather not.  Which means I might need to stay as a missing person.”

“He can be a year round camper, like me,” Annabeth said hopefully, “and I promise I’d make him learn some stuff.”

“It’s going to be stuff like sign language and more forging and survival stuff,” he said lightly, “but stuff, for sure.”

He looked at his mom and faltered a little bit at her expression, but rallied with a deep breath.  “You should give me your phone number,” Percy said, “I know camp has a phone, so I can call you, if I do stay.  Or if I’m planning on coming home, to give you some warning.”

“Technically the couch is a pullout,” she bit her lip, “but I’ll convert the office back into the second bedroom it's supposed to be.  You always have a place here, Percy.  No matter what you end up deciding to do.”

He smiled, a little stunned.

She packed them some snacks and drove them to camp, letting them tell her all about their quest in greater detail.  Percy swore when he realized he’d forgotten to give Kelli her Medusa autograph, but figured he’d see her again soon enough anyway.  They usually didn’t go more than a month without seeing each other, and it wasn’t like Kelli didn’t know where he probably was.  Sally was pretty disapproving of how Persephone had handled them - making them pickpocket a god, no matter how successful they were - but eventually just sighed and reiterated again how glad she was that they were okay.

The parking lot at camp was more packed than it had been at the end of May, but since there wasn’t a lot of traffic, she put the hazards on and climbed out after them, giving them each a huge hug and handing them their bags.  She waited until they took several steps over the boundary line before getting back in the car, but she didn’t drive away for a while.  Her last “I love you,” rang pleasantly in Percy’s ears.

The Aphrodite cabin was the first to spot them, having been playing volleyball at the time, but the cry soon went up and it didn’t take long for campers to swarm the questers, dragging them to the fire pit.

Luke squirmed his way to the front of the crowd and Percy and Grover grabbed Annabeth’s hands.  She squeezed back, but didn’t look at them.

“Hey,” he said with a big smile on his face, “you guys made it back!”

It wasn’t anything they hadn’t heard from the other campers, but Percy still tensed when he smelled the sand stronger than ever, and a glance at the other two had him grimacing.

“Y-Yeah,” Grover said nervously, “we uh, sure did.  Sorry about the shoes, they sort of…”  he trailed off, not wanting to say “committed suicide via hell pit in an attempt to drag the wearer down too,” because that would quite possibly give too much away.

“The chimera got them,” Percy smiled wryly, “a casualty of war.  They put in some good work before that, though.”

Luke stared at them for a little longer before smiling.  “Sounds like they died a warrior’s death.  Now come on, it’s tradition, share your quest!”

The campers started chanting, “Quest, quest, quest,” while they were all pushed to the front.  Percy made eye contact with Kat, who pointed at his wrist and beamed.  He smiled back and waved his wrist.

They took turns spinning the story, leaving out by unspoken agreement Percy’s… uniqueness, but were fully open about disarming Medusa with an autograph or three.  Echidna, Percy changed it to a fight, not mentioning Bean either, and letting the shoes be casualties of the lion head’s fire.  Most everything else they said as is, trying to soften Ares’ betrayal and emphasize how odd it’d been since they did have half a dozen of his kids watching them carefully.  People ribbed Percy to sing the song again when they got to the stymphalian birds, but he just rolled his eyes and kept explaining, even as the other two laughed.  They spoke of the trick of the Lotus Hotel and everyone yelled at the drama of the date they finally got out on, and mentioned wandering through LA until they found the Stretcher.  They also removed Kelli from the story, Annabeth making up how they’d tricked him into lying on his own bed and dusting him that way, getting the address from a map he had in the back.  Finally, they talked about delivering Hades’ helm to him, seeing Sally safe and sound (and he could hear the sigh of relief, since half the camp had loved his mom too, and the other half related since she was his mom) and being whisked away to the surface.  They didn’t really mention how they got out, skirting around it by describing Olympus for the campers who weren’t year rounders, and talking about the meeting and the results.

“And then my mom drove us back,” Percy shrugged, “and the quest is complete.”

A great cheer went up and Chiron stepped forward.

“Tonight,” he said as the cheers died down, “we shall burn their shrouds.  For now,” he looked at them warmly, “we celebrate that our three campers, two demigods and a satyr, made it back, safe and sound.”

They cheered again.

Burning the shrouds was kind of a fun tradition, Percy mused as Kat’s work went up in smoke.  It had been gorgeous, he’d almost not wanted to burn it, but the sea blue shroud with little bronze swords of varying quality was meant to be his burial shroud if he didn’t come back, so he was down for the tradition if only for the superstitious reason for it.

They spent the next few weeks getting back into the swing of things, everyone in camp looking at them with some kind of positive emotion, while they kept an eye on Luke.  It was easy to forget he was their prime suspect for the traitor, even if Annabeth insisted on watching everyone carefully as well, because he just kept being nice and caring.  Most of the younger kids looked up to him, and considering how large the Hermes cabin was with all the unclaimed kids or kids of minor gods, that was a lot of kids.  Percy was dreading if he was right, but the nineteen year old hadn’t made any moves.

Percy indeed spent a lot of time learning sign language.  Anyone who was a year rounder and most of the summer campers learned it, because Mr. D had made sure it was extremely easy to put on the schedule.  Ariana, Castor, and Pollux were more than happy to help him practice whenever he wasn’t in the forge or arena or something, and Clarisse delighted in sending him insults all throughout dinner.  He figured he knew more insults than anything else, at this point.

Speaking of Clarisse, she went up into the attic every day, and every day came down and shook her head.  Some of her cabinmates were getting frustrated, wanting her to get a quest already, but after a yelling match with Lee Fletcher, she’d calmed down and accepted it.  Going up every day at this point was more to satisfy her brothers than it was actually thinking she’d get a quest.  Since she needed to be given one by the Oracle and not just assigned a task from her father, she likely had figured out (as anyone who had been listening to Lee yell had also figured out) that Oracle quests were for something big happening, and other than the tension in the three of them, things were pretty calm.

The fourth of July came all too soon, but the fireworks from the beach were better than any he’d ever seen.  Some of them were spaced so close together it was like they were moving, and it was a mass of technical genius he was sure to tackle Jake and Beck for, congratulating them and all their siblings for a job well done.  As the firework show was ending, Grover pulled him aside.

“Okay,” he said, “I already talked to Annabeth, but it’s time for me to put this shiny new searcher’s license to use.”

“Okay,” Percy said easily.

Grover paused.  “I don’t know why,” he chuckled, “but I think I was expecting a bit more… resistance?”

Percy shrugged.  “This is your dream.  I know you’ve prepared for it.  You won’t even be going out with two pretty strong demigods, so I bet your monster encounters will drop by, like, 200%.”

Grover raised an eyebrow.  “That feels like statistics.”

Percy recoiled, acting like he’d been stabbed.  “Nooooo, it’s not, I swear!  She hasn’t gotten to me!”

Grover bleated out a laugh, eyes crinkling.  “If you stick around for too long, she will.   She’s pretty stubborn.”

Percy blew out a sigh.  “Guess I have to go on the run again.”

Grover narrowed his eyes.  “Guess I have to hunt you down again.  You know I’m supposed to be searching for Pan, not you, right?”

Percy snickered.  “Okay, then what if you check in with camp ever so often?  You know the number, right?  If you always call at the same time every few weeks, either Annabeth or I can be at the phone.  Promise.”

Grover huffed.  “I’m not really going to be around a payphone all that often, you know.  I’m not exactly going to look for the God of the Wilds in a city.”

“Then…”

The satyr shifted.  “Technically.  There is one way we could stay in contact.  It’s kind of dangerous, though.”

“How so?”

“So you know how satyrs have that ability to read people’s emotions?  Empathy?”

Percy shrugged.  “Sure?”

“Well,” he looked a little uncomfortable, “technically we can take it a step further and make what’s called an empathy link with one specific person.  It sort of ties us together, means we can always check in on each other’s emotions, and makes it easier for us to find each other.  The issue is, it’s kind of extreme, and it means that if one of us dies, the other one might as well.  I almost definitely will die if you do, but I don’t think you’ll die if I do.  It would probably hurt or make you sick, though.”

Percy narrowed his eyes.  “It sounds like you have the only downsides.”

Grover shrugged.  “I mean, I guess so.  I’ll just turn into a plant, though.”

“But you want to be an Elysium tree!”

The satyr laughed.  “I’ll be okay.  It’s up to you, because it is kind of invasive, but if you want to be able to check in on me, and make sure I don’t grey about forty years too early by making me track you down again, then we can.”

Percy thought it over.  It wasn’t a hardship or anything, and he counted Grover as one of his closest friends after this past month and change.

“Sure.”

Grover tackled him in a hug.  “Oh,” he breathed out a sigh of relief, “I didn’t want to say anything but I was really really hoping you’d say yes and spare me the stress.”  He pulled back with a tired grin.  “You’re not sticking around past the summer, are you?”

Percy shifted.  “Pretty much as soon as we catch the traitor,” he mumbled.

Grover laughed.  “Too much of a free spirit, huh?  If we’re ever in the same area, you can help me search.”

Percy gave a lopsided grin.  “Deal.  Now, did you pack everything you need?”

“Cans, pipes, sickle,” he confirmed, “plus extra fake feet, a few changes of clothes, and an extra hat.  A sturdy water bottle, too.  I’m going to be okay.”

Percy pointed at him as menacingly as possible.  “As soon as I can figure out how to make regular rainbows, I’ll IM you too.”

Grover froze, blinking.  “Oh shoot.  IMs.  Shoulda thought of that before I linked us.”

Percy waved him off.  “Psh, this is way better.  Now we’re automatic besties.  You’ve finally usurped Kat.”

“I think Annabeth will be offended if you like her older sister more than her.”

“She can deal, Kitty made the bracelets that shows off how cool we are.”

Grover snorted, then held out his fist on the appropriate arm.  Percy extended his own to bump fists, admiring the more green bracelet and the more blue one.  All that was missing as the one with extra grey.  He glanced back at the beach, still packed with people even if they were starting to pick up their blankets and prepare for bed, and spotted her amongst her siblings.

“I’ll be back,” Grover said abruptly, and he looked back at his friend, “I’ll find Pan and come back for the next time you guys need to go on a quest.”

Percy grinned.  “I’ll hold you to that.”

Grover bumped into him one last time before slipping off into the woods with a wave.

High Stakes Duck Duck Goose with the Ares and Aphrodite cabins got interrupted by Luke coming over.  It was one of the last few days of summer camp, the day before Percy’s birthday, and right before people had to commit to either being a summer camper or a year long one.  Percy had already signed up to be a year rounder, right after Annabeth.  They hadn’t heard from Grover, but Percy had sent and received a few emotions, so he was still alive and kicking, and doing just fine by the feel of it.  He called his mom occasionally, and Red once or twice (once to tell her he was committing to the week before school and to apologize for not coming to heckle her yet), but all in all, he was settling into camp life and “relaxing.”  Jake had almost cried when he’d revealed that he’d given away the ash sword without testing it at all, but had been placated by Percy devoting the next two weeks into making not one, but two swords, swords that looked perfectly normal and apparently were just as balanced, even if Percy yet again could not tell.  He even tested them, or rather, had other campers test them, until they got put away in the armory to be used when someone needed them.  He’d also started to work on hollowing out the minotaur horn, instead of turning it into a spear or an improvised weapon like his original plan.  It was careful work, but he thought he was making good progress during Arts and Crafts, and Annabeth had made a guide for him, since it wasn’t like he’d get to try again if he messed up.  Hopefully it could turn into a hunting horn of sorts.

Luke smiled disarmingly at the gathered group.  “Hey, can I borrow Percy?”

Lacy pouted and clung to him, letting cherries and almonds (amaretto, Lacy insisted primly) flood his nose.  He could almost pick out the song, but couldn’t voice it still.  “But he’s playing with us!”

The young man laughed.  “I promise to return him to you all in one piece, okay?  You’ll see him again later.”

Percy stared at him for a moment, but before Luke’s expression could falter, he smiled and patted Lacy, rising from the circle.

“I’ll see you soon,” he looked at Clarisse and hid the sign with his body, “owl,” with his hands, but making it an a instead of an o, and doing it much lower than at his eyes so his arms didn’t have to move much.  She narrowed her eyes, but nodded her fist once.

“If you’re taking him for sword training,” she called, “you better be willing to take the Ares cabin too, Castellan.”

Luke laughed.  “Sure.  I’ll see when we both have an open slot next, okay?”

She rolled her eyes, but hefted her new spear and prepared for the next round of Duck Duck Goose.  Her brother Marcus was up, and he was glaring at Drew, who smiled sweetly from the other side of the circle while inspecting her mascara in the reflection of her knife.

Percy grabbed his bag from the pile of stuff and followed Luke past the arena, despite the other teen having his sword, and into the woods.  He dragged his feet, looking around and taking his time, but Luke kept up the pleasant smile even as he let Percy slow them down.  As they passed the treeline, Luke stooped to pick up a six pack of mini cans of coke he’d tucked into the roots of a tree, and kept walking.  Percy noted a few nymphs they were passing until they were at the creek, around the same place Percy had been in capture the flag two months ago.

Luke sat on a large rock by the side and gestured for Percy to do the same before cracking open a coke.

“It must be strange to be back,” he mused as Percy cracked his own can, “and not out there in the world.”

Percy hummed.  “Kind of.  It’s nice, though.”

Luke gave him a knowing look.  “Too quiet, though.”

He shrugged.  “I remember more time on the run than I do at any place like home.  Maybe if I’d stayed here for years, it would be making me more restless, but for now there’s plenty to learn.  To me, this place is more of an adventure than the quest was.”

Luke chuckled.  “More of the same old, same old, huh?  Wish it was like that for me.  I went on my own quest three years ago now,” he seemed almost wistful, “and it shut the whole thing down.”

Percy looked into the water.  “Ended bad?”

“You could say that.  It gave me this scar, after all.  Had to steal a golden apple from the Garden of Hesperides.”

He hummed.  “What’s so special about an apple?”

Luke snorted.  “They were a wedding gift to Hera.  No one’s quite certain what, exactly, they do, but everyone wants one.  The apple of discord that Eris used to start the Trojan War supposedly came from that tree.  It’s most famous for being Heracles’ eleventh task, however, so of course my dad thought it’d be perfect for me.  The dragon guarding the tree gave me this.”

His voice was so full of venom and sarcasm that Percy blinked, eyes tracing the scar trailing down the side of his face.  Didn’t quests usually have three people on them?  Who had gone with him?  …Why was Luke the oldest person at camp?

“If you hated it so much,” he squinted, deciding that asking those questions was asking for trouble he couldn’t afford right now, “why do you want to go back?”

Luke laughed, but it sounded empty.  “Because this,” he scoffed and tossed his crumpled can into the creek, “isn’t living.  Out there, that’s real life.  Camp is a prison disguised as a safe haven.  ‘Stay here, little demigod, until the gods have need of you, and then go out and die for them.’  We deserve better.   We deserve more.   We deserve to live.”

Percy swallowed.  “And you think going out into the world is the way to do it?”

Luke turned to him, eyes fevered.  “You get it,” he almost sounded pleading, like he wanted Percy to agree, “you have to.  You spent years out there, living, experiencing what it was like.  You want to help demigods as much as I do!  You have to understand, Percy.  We’re the same!”

“Give me the whole pitch,” Percy said softly, “because there’s a lot you’re not saying, Luke.”

“The gods don’t care about us,” the older boy spat, “and you and I both know it.  Your father let you wander for years before you got to camp just in time to save his hide.  Do you really think that’s a coincidence?  At least Annabeth found older demigods almost as soon as she ran away.  At least her mother guided her to us.  But you?  The gods abandoned you until you were a convenient tool.  Ares and Persephone used you as well, as soon as you were made known to the larger pantheon with your claiming.  As soon as you went out again, they saddled you with favors and requests that you couldn’t say no to.”

Percy just watched him.

“And it’s just going to get worse,” Luke breathed, “you spent years out there, saving demigods.  Without you, half of them would be dead, and we still only have maybe a hundred and fifty demigods at camp.  I want to be out there, protecting demigods, but not to send them here, where the gods are watching and waiting to use them.  No, the gods need to go, or this place will never be the safety net it claims to be.”

Percy took a deep breath and let it out.  “You’re proposing to overthrow the gods.  For who?”

“For us!”

“No,” Percy said, “who were you talking to?”

Luke stared at him.

“In the pit,” he clarified.

Luke inspected him for a moment with critical eyes, the volatile emotions, the anger and madness, all gone, as the smell of sand got stronger.  “I had wondered if you’d figure it out,” his voice was calm and cool now, “you always were quick on the draw.”

“Necessary,” he shrugged slightly, not taking his eyes off the other, “if you miss something, you die or someone else does.”

Luke sat back, throwing another crushed can in the creek.  “My Lord knows the gods better than anyone.  He knows how treacherous they are.  He’s promised that the demigods will all be safe.”

Percy snorted.  “Known child-eater Father Time?  Gee.  I sure trust that.”

Luke’s eyes snapped to him.  “Lord Kronos will be better than the gods.”

“According to what?  Him?”

He narrowed his eyes.  “Work with me, Percy,” he insisted, moving to stand, “stand with us.  All I want is a better life for demigods.”

Percy pursed his lips.  “I believe you.  But I don't believe him.”

Luke sighed and snapped his fingers.  Percy tensed as the ground opened up at his feet and a glistening black scorpion perched on his foot.  It smelled sour and fiery and too much like blood and bile for his tastes.  It practically reeked of malice, and he sat very still.

“This is the power of my Lord,” the man said softly, “he has access to all manner of monsters that we can use to keep the demigods safe.”

“You have to understand the irony in that,” Percy said, acknowledging the irony of him saying that, “saying that monsters will protect demigods from monsters.  From gods.  Also, this scorpion feels like it doesn’t particularly care who it stabs.”

“You know too much,” Luke said with a bit of sadness in his voice, completely brushing past him, “and you could have been great, but now you’re too much of a threat.  You can still change your mind, Percy, I can call it off.”

“You’re starting off your whole protecting demigods thing super well, by the way.”

Luke drew his sword as the scorpion climbed up his leg.  Percy’s eyes locked onto it and felt a sense of wrongness.   One side was bronze, like usual, but the other side was silvery steel.

“Do you like it?”  Luke admired the blade.  “You’ve been spending a lot of time in the forge, swordsman, so you probably get how hard this was to make.  One side celestial bronze, one side regular, plain old steel.  Works on demigods and mortals.”

Percy stared.  The scorpion was on his knee now, looking up at him with beady eyes, egging him on to just try to move.

For a moment, he briefly considered pretending to accept the deal, but he didn’t think Luke would buy it, and if he did, how long Percy would be able to keep it up.  It just rubbed him the wrong way, and he didn’t want to go too far to keep up the deception, didn’t want to accidentally pass the point of no return just to trick him and learn more things.  Plus, there was no telling if it would actually work.  It could be a lot of risk for very little reward, so he scrapped the idea entirely.

Luke sighed.  “Last chance, Percy.  The pit scorpion venom will kill you in sixty seconds.”

Percy smiled up at him, fingers twitching.  “At least it’ll be quick!”

Luke looked him over and Percy smiled in a way that showed off some teeth.  His lip was probably curling, and his eyes never left Luke’s.  The man shifted, then slashed at the air with the sword, making it ripple.

“Goodbye, Percy,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.  I really considered you a friend.”

Percy’s mind flashed back to the prophecy.  “Yeah,” he muttered, “I bet you did.”

The other was gone and didn’t hear him, but he stared down at the scorpion.  “I don’t suppose we can end this peacefully,” he grumbled.  He tugged some creek water towards him, but when the scorpion tensed, he stabbed it with the water, letting it lance through the arachnid like it had the hellhound, probably also summoned by Luke now that he thought about it.

It curled up in death and Percy shakily opened his bag as he stumbled to the creek.  He took out the wrapperless coke bottle and tried to coax the liquid fire out of his veins from the angry welt on the back of his hand.

“Percy?  Luke?”

He heard Annabeth’s voice and grinned weakly.  “Here,” he called, but it came out as a croak.

“Percy?!”

He sat heavily in the creek, sparing half a thought to pick out Luke’s two crushed cans and stick them in his bag.  Nymphs were starting to come out of trees as the sound of running footsteps started coming towards him.  He was gasping for breath when he released the venom into the bottle and somehow managed to twist the lid back on.

Annabeth burst out of the trees.  “Percy!”

“Hey,” he said weakly, “you probably really don’t want to drink out of this bottle now.”

She sank to her knees beside him so she could prop him up better, heedless of how water was soaking her jeans and shoes.

“There’s probably still nectar and ambrosia in my bag,” he hummed, “I never did return that.”

“You need to go to Chiron,” her voice sounded like it was getting filled with cotton, but she fished out the canteen anyway and forced him to take a sip.  He sighed at the taste of his mom’s pancakes, fresh from the griddle, warmed him from the inside out.  It restored some of the color to his vision, but his arm still ached.

“There’s no way I got all of it,” he warned, “so yeah, probably Chiron.  Go get Spencer, too.”

She helped him to his feet and tried not to fall when most of his weight sagged into her.  He tried to make his legs work more so she didn’t have to bear the burden, and kept one hand locked around the bottle of venom.

“Should we bring the scorpion,” Percy said suddenly, “to help Chiron?”

Annabeth huffed.  “It’s a bit late for that now, since we’re out of the woods already.  Did it not dust?”

Percy hummed.  “It might have.  I can’t remember, I was focused on trying to not die.  Did you know, pit scorpion venom is supposed to kill you in one minute?”

She sucked in a shaky breath.  “I hate you,” she said, ignoring the voice crack, “I really, really hate you.”

“Giving into the parent feud,” he shook his head and immediately regretted it, “I feel like Ocean Man and Owl Lady fight like, every single time they cross paths.”

“Not every time…”

He snorted and immediately regretted it (every movement was quickly regretted, he guessed, so he should just… not do that).  “Name one time they actually worked together until the end of something without fighting.”

She opened and closed her mouth as she thought of things, then dismissed them, until she finally got one.  “Oh!  The chariot!  Your dad supplied the horses, my mother helped make the chariot itself.”

“Clop clop,” he nodded blearily, “I do like horses.”

“No no no,” Annabeth hauled him further on her shoulder as he felt his eyes start to close, “Percy, don’t do this to me!  Stay awake!”

“Guess my control’s not fine enough,” he murmured, “because I definitely missed some venom.”

“We’re so close,” she pleaded, “we’re so- Lee!  Lee, get Will and Chiron!”

“And Spencer.”

“And Spencer!  Percy’s been stung by a… a pit scorpion!”

The last thing Percy heard before he slipped away was the clopping of hooves thundering towards them.

“Clop clop,” he muttered, and then he was gone.

He knew he was dreaming, because he was flying and not getting shot out of the sky.  In fact, even more than that, he felt like a million bucks up here.  He extended his wings and did a barrel roll, whinnying in delight.  The world was small beneath him, flying by and blurring.  Everything was in shades of yellow and blue and white, and it was a little disorienting to the part of Percy that was still human, but not to the dream Percy.

He landed in an open field on a farm in the middle of nowhere surrounded by both other horses and pegasi in all colors.  He gave some greetings to horses and pegasi as he passed until he was near a small family that he knew.  His mom, dad, and younger brother.  His dad was black, like him, with a white star on his nose, but his mom and brother were both what Percy was going to call the color of peanut butter, kind of.  Everything was so muted it looked a bit more yellow, but it was still warm.  Golden, even, if they were in the sunlight.

“You were out late,” his mother fussed, nibbling on his mane, “you keep pushing boundaries.”

He huffed.  “Mam, I know!  But it feels so freeing, I can’t help myself!  I don’t get too close to anyone, I promise!  And I fly so high, anyone who sees me will just think I’m a bird, if they can see me at all.”

“Bran doesn’t fly away from home for hours,” she muttered, nudging his brother, “Bran stays with the flock during regular flying times, or stays in the field grazing.”

He tossed his head.  “That’s because Bran is a goody four hooves!”

Bran snorted.  “You really think you’re going to win this one, huh?  What are you even doing going out so far, looking for mares?”

“No!”

“Enough,” his father grumbled, “Jack, we just worry.  People have been on the move, and you know how valuable a pegasus can be, for multiple reasons.”

“I won’t get captured,” he sighed, “I’m too fast!”

“I hope capture is all that they’ll do,” his mother said sharply, “because the alternative…”

She trailed off with the horse equivalent of a cry and he instantly felt awful.  He walked forward and hooked their necks together, feeling her warmth as night fell.

“I know, ma,” he murmured, “I’ll be careful.  I promise, I’ll always come back to you.”

She hugged him back.  “I hope so.  Maybe you can find a nice demigod to protect you, or go to one of those camps.”

“Maaaa,” he whinnied, “I’m too wild for some camp!   I want to be out there, in the world, seeing things!”

She huffed.  “Maybe when you’re older.  But just remember, there are plenty of nice mares here at the farm.”

“We’ve only been here for three weeks,” he grumbled, “I want to see the ocean.”

His father laughed, sounding a little wistful.  “Of course you do.  Tell you what, next spring, we’ll convince the flock to visit the ocean.  I’m sure no one will turn you down.”

Percy’s eyes snapped open and he immediately squinted in the bright sun.  His fingers twitched and he pushed the blanket off of him, trying to sit up.  His hand twinged and he raised it.  The welt had faded into a small white scar on the back of his hand, and he flopped back down with a sigh.

“Percy?”

He looked over to see Spencer’s wide brown eyes looking at him from the doorway.  He waved once, but didn’t try to open his mouth, because it felt like his tongue would crack if he tried, it was so dry.

“Oh, here,” Spencer scrambled to his side and passed over a glass of water with a straw in it.  It was room temperature, but it was divine like it was actual nectar itself in Percy’s eyes, so he sipped it gratefully.  Finally, after the entire glass, he felt like he wasn’t going to turn to dust if he tried to open his mouth.

“How long?”

Spencer slouched beside him, sitting in the chair provided for visitors (the infirmary was pretty empty).  “Two days.  Chiron said it was a miracle you only had a small sliver of the poison in you, or you would have been d-dead a while ago.  Here, have some ambrosia, it’ll make you feel better.”

It tasted like churros from the street car he’d dragged Kelli to when they were taking a break from the murder.  It had become tradition for them, after two years ago in Pennsylvania, for them to stop and grab something to eat or drink before they really went at it, and the churros had been his favorite.  They’d found them in November of last year, in Albuquerque, a street car having had some of the best damn churros Percy couldn’t even dream up, sweet and with a crunchy exterior and soft interior.  They’d gotten some dipping sauces to try as well, but even just on its own, he still dreamt about eating that churro again. She’d laughed at the raspberry smeared on his face, he remembered, and all the sugar he was dusted in, painstakingly getting the grit out from under his nails while she ordered three more.

He opened his eyes, not having realized that he’d closed them, and smiled at Spencer.  He felt amazing.  “Seems we kept our word, huh?  I fight, you heal.”

Spencer instantly went beet red.  “I d-didn’t, wasn’t th-the only one he-healing you!  Will did too!  And Lee and all the other Apollo campers!”

Percy snickered.  “But you were the one who was here when I woke up.  Pretty sure that means you get to claim all of the credit.”

He shifted in the chair, still red.  “We took turns,” he confessed, “waiting, I mean.  Me and Jake and Ari and Lacy and Kat and Annabeth and Will.  I think Clarisse and Sherman might have stuck their heads in a time or two, but I also think they’d beat me up if they heard me say it, so you didn’t hear it from me.  Other people visited too, I mean.  Some of the other unclaimed kids, and other people I don’t know.”

“I’m almost surprised you know Jake and Kat,” he hummed consideringly, “aren’t they easily four years older than you?  And Jake’s terrible at meeting new people.  He and Kat get too wrapped up in projects.”

Spencer nodded idly.  “They fight over you, I think.”

“For what?!”

He giggled and flopped his front onto the bed.  “I’m so glad you got better,” his voice was muffled by the blanket, but Percy could still hear how wet it was and put a hand on his head, “I was so worried I’d fail.”

He pushed himself up with his other hand and bodily dragged the boy who was two years younger than him closer, making him squeak.

“You did great,” he muttered, “couldn’t ask for a better doctor.”

He wrapped his arms around the boy and held on, ignoring the shudders.  There were no tears, but Percy was just glad his attempt at comfort wasn’t going as poorly as it had for his father and uncle, because yeesh, he was still embarrassed on their behalf.  Eventually, Spencer pulled back with a smile, and he got up, running to the door.

“I’m going to get everyone else,” he said cheerfully, “don’t die in the meantime!”

He snorted, remembering Rachel.  “I hear it's bad for my health.”

Spencer nodded seriously before dashing off, and Percy pulled himself up the bed to sit more comfortably, so he didn’t have to hunch over.

Will was the first to appear, followed close behind by Lee.  Both sort of just checked him over, declared he was good to go whenever, and wished him good health before leaving.  Sure, he was friendly with them, but they weren’t really people he’d been hanging out with aside from being friends with his friends.  Lee, at sixteen, was one of the oldest campers he knew, and arguably the first camper he’d met, but he was busy with his cabin and managing injuries, if Percy had to guess.  Will, he knew mostly through Spencer, and technically Ariana and Lacy.  They were all the same age, so they were often seen running around together when they weren’t with their cabinmates, so as the only one in the group who didn’t really know Percy well, he’d sort of been grandfathered into their association with him.

Next up were Clarisse and Sherman, both giving him cursory glances before sneering and telling him he’d better be up soon and make good on that sword practice Luke’d promised them and then bailed on.  Neither of them said anything about why Luke had bailed, but something in Percy was viciously satisfied that Luke’s name was possibly being smeared through the mud.  Everyone knew he’d turned traitor, by the sound of it.  Sherman complained some more about Clarisse still not getting a quest, even though clearly this was big enough to warrant it, and then they left, threatening him if he told anyone any shit about them missing him or whatever.  He knew they were fond of him!  Not that he’d say it to their faces, of course, because he liked to keep his own intact.

Then came Lacy, Drew, and Ariana.  The two ten year olds piled onto his bed, talking and signing a mile a minute, while Drew leaned against the wall with a magazine, looking like she’d rather be anywhere else.  When he caught her eye and raised an eyebrow, she rolled her eyes and gestured at the kids.  He snickered at her face and the smell of orange and lavender rose with her annoyance before she huffed and held the magazine in front of her face so she didn’t have to look at him.

Jake swung by with Beck trailing behind, both wishing him well but not sticking around, and finally, Annabeth and Kat came.

Kat took one look at their expressions before raising her hands.  “Right,” she said, “I’ll say my piece and get out of the way.  Glad you’re doing better, Percy, I’ll see you around.  Don’t freak us out like that again, got it?”

“You got it, Kitty.”

She left with one lingering look, and then they were alone.

“Oh man,” Percy sucked in a breath, “I’m so glad I didn’t die.  Grover would have been toast.”

“Don’t joke about that,’ Annabeth smacked him lightly in the arm, “I could have lost both of you at once!  Why did you even follow him into the woods alone?!  You should have gotten help!”

Percy grimaced.  “I did, I had Clarisse get you.   Besides, I didn’t want him to feel backed into a corner.  Think of how much worse it would have been if he’d summoned more than one scorpion!  Or a hellhound again!”

She lunged forward and he flinched back, expected another angry attack, but instead she just grabbed him and pulled him into a hug.

“I hate you so much.”

He tentatively wrapped his arms around her.  “So you’ve said.  I’m starting to not buy it, I’m going to be honest with you.”

She pulled back with a scowl.  “I do.  You might be a teenager now, but that just means you’re even more of an idiot!”

He gaped.  “Oh man,” he whined, “I missed my birthday!  And I was actually planning on maybe celebrating it a tiny bit this year!  Damn it.”

She sighed in exasperation, thumping her head onto his shoulder with every beat.  “Moron.  Seaweed Brain.  Nothing but ocean noises between your ears.”

“I do believe those are called waves, but I’ve only gotten past a first grader’s education, so I can’t be sure.”

They were quiet for a few moments, one of Annabeth’s hands curled around his wrist where he could feel his blood pump in time.

“So everyone knows, then?”

She nodded reluctantly, not removing her head from his shoulder.  “Two cabins saw you follow him,” she said thickly, “and about four saw me drag you out of the woods while screaming.  He never came out of the woods, so people were able to put two and two together.  Some people are in denial.”

He bit his lip.  “His cabin?”

She nodded.  “I…” she took a shuddering breath, “I probably would have been too, if I hadn’t known for weeks it was a possibility.  I can’t blame them.  Maybe we should have warned camp.”

“And scared him off early?  That doesn’t sound like a good plan.”

She huffed.  “Whatever.  I can’t have good plans all the time.”

He tugged on a curl.  “Um, yeah you can, that’s kind of your whole deal.  Thinking about it from a… shoot, is it objective or subjective?”

“Objective.”

“Okay, from an objective perspective, that would have just made him feel cornered, or we never would have gotten proof, or he would have resorted to killing us in our sleep or something.  Letting him practically confess was the way to go.”

“But there isn’t any proof,” she argued, lifting her head, “he wasn’t on the year round camper’s list, so some people are saying you just encountered something in the woods after he left for college or something.  Percy, you don’t understand, Luke’s been a feature of camp for five years, that kind of reputation doesn’t go away from one sketchy incident.  We know the truth, and all of your little goons will believe anything you say, but even my cabin is split.  No one wants to believe anyone, let alone Luke, could betray the gods.  Betray… us.”

He sighed.  “Awesome.  Well… I think I’m heading back out soon.  I’ll be in New York until school starts, but…”

She looked at his eyes for a few seconds.  “Back to wandering?”

He cracked a grin.  “Yeah, but I’ll be much better funded this time.  Hopefully Grover remembered too.”

She stared at him blankly and his grin got wider.

“Currently,” he said, “the plan is to heckle Red while I spend some time with my mom, give her the Lotus Casino card, and hopefully take out a debit card using the funds so I can get transportation and, you know, food.”

She sighed in relief, smiling slightly.  “At least that part of the quest is good for something.   How long before the cards get canceled?”

He shrugged. “Hopefully long enough to set me and mom up for life.  She deserves it.  And if not, there’s always the Rich Lord.  Literally in his name.”

She snickered and he hugged her close, feeling warm.

“I’ll be back,” he promised, “and hopefully, I’ll be sending a lot of demigods your way too.”

“Next summer?”

He smiled, letting his eyes crinkle.  “Next summer.  We’ll make it.”