Chapter Text
“Just give us a second,” Percy said, pulling Annabeth below decks.
They were far off Charleston. The Romans wouldn’t follow them. They were heading to Long Island.
Annabeth flinched as she remembered the look on Jason’s face when he saw Reyna. When he had apologised.
Percy glanced at her, worrying, as she yanked Annabeth inside her cabin.
Annabeth moved slowly over to the bed as Percy paced the floor.
“What was that?” Percy finally spoke, her green eyes fixed determinedly away from Annabeth.
“I dont-” she tried.
“Not that bullshit, ‘Beth. Not with me. I know you. Know you too well.” Green eyes glimmered glassily for a second, before she blinked and turned away.
“It’s,” Annabeth sighed, “It’s a quest.”
“Quest.” Not a question.
“For my mother.”
“Athena, then.”
“Maybe Minerva,” Annabeth shrugged, “She seemed, confused when I saw her. Lost. Looking for something. Someone.”
“Someone.”
“Her daughter.”
“You are her daughter.”
Annabeth laughed dryly, “Her first daughter. The only person she ever loved.”
Percy turned to her.
Pereseleia’s face.
Annabeth wanted to scream.
“She wants you to look for Pereselia.” Percy said flatly, “The dead goddess.” Thunder rumbled. They both flipped middle fingers near-automatically.
“No.” Annabeth replied.
Percy was silent.
Annabeth looked down at her hands.
‘She wants me to find a statue. The statue. The last mortal visage of the Athenide. Pillaged from Athens by the Romans and lost to time.”
“The Athena Partheneous.” Percy finished, well used to her architecture rants, as well as the sculpture ones.
Annabeth looked up at Percy, “Follow the Mark of Athena.”
Percy paled.
“Percy,” Annabeth stood, now on the offensive, "What do you know?” She looked at her sister, reaching for her hands, gently stopping the trembling.
“Wisdom’s daughter walks alone. The Mark of Athena burns through Rome,” Green met grey, fear sparking in the ocean depths.
“Ella’s prophecy.”
Annabeth glanced down at the bronze mirror-like surface. Once said to be the glass of the hand-mirror of the Athenide.
“And,” Percy coughed, “I had this dream,” Annabeth’s eyes snapped to her.
She reached out then, and the two hugged tightly.
“Twin giants,” Percy whispered around her neck, “Rome. Twelve days. A creature lurking in the dark. Tapestries. Nico-they said Nico’s name, I think. Beth, I haven’t seen him since- Since New Rome. What if they took him?” her voice rose in pitch, “What if they hurt my little brother?”
Annabeth stroked Percy’s hair as the girl sobbed.
Tapestries.
Darkness.
Weaving.
Her blood felt cold. The shadows were too large.
“Percy,” she said softly, “What’s the rest of the prophecy?"
Percy took in a shuddering breath.
“Wisdom’s daughter walks alone, the Mark of Athena burns through Rome,” she paused for breath, then continued, “Twins snuff out an angel's breath, that holds the key, to endless death.”
The lights flickered, but Percy didn’t stop.
“Giant’s bane stands gold and pale. Won through pain from a woven jail.”
Annabeth’s breaths were coming too loudly.
The lights kept flickering.
All eight eyes were watching her.
“No,” Percy said, putting the pieces together.
“Her,” Annabeth swallowed, “Archane, Mother of Spiders. She guards the Athena Parthenous. Woven jail.”
Percy stared at her in horror.
“Angel’s breath,” she murmured, then tensed, “Nico di Angelo. Di angelo. Angel. Shit. We have to get to Rome.”
“Twelve days?” Annabeth asked, grabbing her wrist as she bolted for the door.
‘Twelve days until they kill Nico,” Percy’s eyes looked wide, terrified, like an animal about to bolt. “Twelve days until they burn down Rome.”