Chapter Text
Leo POV
It had been a few days since Leo had returned to camp, and honestly? Aside from the weird dream, life had been pretty good. He was holed up in Bunker Nine—hotter than usual today, since he was working with molten celestial bronze—and without any windows, all that heat just stayed trapped inside. Sure, he was immune to fire, but that didn't mean he couldn't sweat. And judging from the constant hiss of Festus's gears, his mechanical buddy wasn't appreciating it either. In fact, Festus had abandoned his usual spot and shuffled to the farthest corner away from the heat, sulking like an oversized, metal cat.
Leo had spent most of his time here, obviously. It wasn't like he had much of a social calendar when he wasn't being chased by monsters or fighting earth goddesses. But still, it was kind of nice—just working, tinkering, living the demigod life without everything exploding around him for once.
Right now, he was hammering away at a little device Annabeth had asked him to make, something to help speed up construction on the guest cabin for Calypso. He had to give her credit for that. He knew she and Calypso weren't exactly on the best terms, but she'd still taken the job anyway. Over the past few days, Leo had grown to respect Annabeth a lot more. They'd been spending a ton of time sketching out schematics and bouncing around invention ideas. It was... fun, having someone to spar with intellectually. And better yet, Annabeth had practice dealing with Percy's toned-down version of Leo's humor, so she could roll with his jokes—though she usually answered with an eye-roll instead of a laugh. Still, progress.
Leo swung his hammer down, the clang of metal ringing out as it met the glowing bronze. The warmth that filled his chest wasn't from the heat of the forge this time. He liked being useful to people, liked that feeling of trust whenever someone asked him to build something. It was like they were saying, Hey Valdez, we believe in you, and for reasons he couldn't quite explain, that always made him feel good.
He let his mind drift for a second too long and almost smashed his thumb instead of the bronze. He froze, inches away from a very painful mistake. With a shaky sigh, he set the hammer down and wiped sweat from his forehead.
"Yeah," he muttered to himself, "definitely time for a break."
Leo took a step back from his workbench, admiring his handiwork for a moment. He'd actually made a lot of progress on studying Archimedes' works, and the fact that nothing had exploded in the last few days felt like a personal record. A couple of weapons, a few spheres, and other projects were tucked safely in different corners of the bunker. The place itself had even started to look a little cleaner lately—mostly thanks to Calypso, who had made it her business to spend as much time in Bunker Nine with him as possible. She fussed about the mess constantly, muttering about "unacceptable living conditions" while she picked up tools or stacked metal in neat piles, usually after Leo had fallen asleep at the bench. He would never admit it out loud, but he liked it. It felt... nice, having her there.
She wasn't around right now—she'd gone off to spend the afternoon with Hazel—and Leo found himself smiling at the thought. Calypso had been adjusting to camp life better than he'd dared hope, and watching her get along with the others gave him a warmth that had nothing to do with fire immunity.
He turned toward the far corner of the room, where a massive metal dragon lay curled up. Festus's bronze plates glinted faintly in the bunker's dim light, his body rising and falling with mechanical hisses. Leo had worried at first that Festus might get bored cooped up in camp. He couldn't exactly let a fire-breathing dragon roam freely, not without giving the other campers a collective heart attack. So Festus had been spending most of his time here. Sure, Leo took him out every now and then for a good stretch of the wings—those flights above the clouds were some of his favorite moments, pure and quiet, like nothing else mattered. At least until the usual monster welcoming committee showed up to remind him that surviving past eighteen wasn't guaranteed.
Leo had even built Festus a special gadget to make things easier afterward—a kind of monster-dust vacuum cleaner. It wasn't his most glamorous invention, but Festus seemed happier not clanking around with monster ashes stuck in every gear.
Percy had noticed Leo's worry too. One day, completely out of the blue, he'd suggested letting Miss O'Leary, his giant hellhound, "play" with Festus now and then. Leo had been skeptical. Annabeth had been horrified. Two massive, powerful, slightly destructive creatures roughhousing together? What could possibly go wrong? But Percy had pushed, and Leo had backed him up until Annabeth finally gave in—with the condition that the playdates stay confined to the forest clearing behind Bunker Nine.
Turned out, it had been one of Percy's best ideas. Festus and Miss O'Leary hit it off instantly. Leo swore he'd never seen Festus more excited than when he was in the air, but he was wrong. Watching Festus lob a demigod-sized chew toy across the clearing and Miss O'Leary leap after it like the world's happiest puppy was... something else. The unfortunate part came afterward, when he and Percy had to clean up the mess. Angry dryads and naiads didn't appreciate "collateral damage" from dragon-dog games.
Leo finally reached Festus, resting a hand against the dragon's warm bronze chassis. The familiar hum beneath his palm steadied him.
"Yeah, buddy," he murmured. "If anyone's earned a break, it's us."
Festus gave a puff of steam, which Leo liked to think was his way of saying, Go outside, Valdez. Touch some grass.
The idea of stepping outside did sound appealing. Leo tried to remember the last time he'd seen sunlight and guessed it had been... maybe seventeen hours ago. He blinked. Okay, that could not possibly be healthy for anyone.
He sighed as Festus tucked his head back down, clearly pretending to sleep.
"How does sleeping even work for you, anyway?" Leo muttered, glaring at the curled-up dragon. "One of these days I'm gonna take you apart and use you as a case study on robot-dragon biology. Maybe I'll even write a manual."
He didn't expect Festus's head to shoot up quite so fast. The dragon's bronze eyes snapped open, and with a mechanical groan, he began uncurling, plates clicking into place. Leo froze. Alright, maybe that had come out a little more threatening than he intended.
"Kidding! I'm kidding!" Leo blurted out, raising his hands. "You know I'd never do that to you. Too much effort. Writing manuals is boring anyway, I—"
He didn't even get to finish. Whether Festus was annoyed, overtired from his playdate with Miss O'Leary, or just thought this would be funny, Leo didn't know. What he did know was that the dragon stomped forward, clamped his bronze claws onto the hem of Leo's shirt, and yanked him clean off the ground.
"Hey, put me down—"
Festus gave him a firm shake. Not enough to hurt him, but definitely enough to rattle his teeth and make the whole world spin. It felt like being a homework assignment someone was trying to shake into making sense. By the time Leo stopped feeling like a human maraca, Festus had already lumbered toward the bunker doors.
"Wait, wait, wait, don't you—"
The doors swung wide. Festus gave one last puff of steam, hoisted Leo forward, and tossed him unceremoniously outside. He landed face-first in the dirt with a grunt. By the time he scrambled to his feet, ready to make some kind of very credible threat about removing Festus's wings, the massive metal doors slammed shut in his face.
Leo brushed off the dirt, scowling at the sealed bunker. "Oh, real nice. Kick a guy out of his own workshop. Traitor."
Leo could've sworn he heard a smug hiss of steam from the other side of the door.
"Yeah, laugh it up, you overgrown toaster," he muttered, banging his fist against the steel. Festus, however, seemed perfectly content to keep him locked out. And while Leo knew the dragon would eventually let him back inside, he also knew that it depended entirely on how much beauty sleep Festus had decided he needed today.
Leo swore under his breath. He'd get that dragon back someday. Oh, he'd get him back.
Then he heard it.
A giggle.
From behind him.
And that's when it hit him — he had not, in fact, considered the possibility that someone might've just witnessed him being physically manhandled and evicted from his own bunker by his pet dragon.
He gulped.
Maybe it was just some random campers. Yeah. Campers out for a stroll in the woods, curious about his bunker. He got visitors sometimes — siblings, other Hephaestus kids checking in, asking about his projects. Totally plausible. Nothing to panic about.
Then came the snicker.
And it was a very, very familiar snicker.
Leo groaned. "Piper? Jason? Is that you guys?"
"No," said a voice that was one hundred percent Jason's. "No, it's not us."
Leo wanted to bury his face in the dirt. Maybe do what ostriches did and stick their head underground until his problems went away.
"I have to say," Piper's voice chimed in, way too amused, "when Jason said he wanted to spend time with you, I half expected we'd have to drag you out of the bunker. Evidently, I was mistaken."
Leo squeezed his eyes shut. He'd never live this down. Not in a million years. Unless...
Well. If he killed them both right here, they couldn't tell a soul, right?
Then again, there was Nico. Nico could talk to the dead. He'd definitely snitch on him. And considering Nico had been on a long assignment in the Underworld and was due back any day now, the timing would be terrible. They'd even planned to surprise Nico with Leo's whole back-from-the-dead reveal. Yeah. Murder was probably not the best option for now.
Leo let out a long breath and forced himself to turn around. He cracked one eye open, then the other.
As expected, Piper had a massive grin plastered on her face. Jason, meanwhile, was doing a spectacularly bad job of holding back laughter.
"Very classy, you two," Leo said flatly.
Leo brushed ash off his shirt as he walked toward his friends. Both of them were clearly fighting the urge to laugh, which was doing wonders for his dignity.
They were in standard camp wear, more or less. Well—Jason was. Simple jeans, a purple T-shirt that made him look like he'd just stepped out of a "responsible demigod starter pack." Piper, on the other hand, was another story.
She had on a green flannel shirt over a bright red Camp Half-Blood tee, plus a leather belt that didn't match her shoes and at least three necklaces layered over each other like she couldn't decide on just one. Somehow she'd managed to throw in a pair of silver hoop earrings too. It looked like a style disaster that had gotten lost on its way to the dumpster... and yet, because it was Piper, it worked. She looked like she'd stepped out of a fashion magazine that was specifically for people who didn't care about fashion.
Leo, by contrast, suddenly felt hyper-aware of himself. His shirt was scorched at the collar from a fire that had gotten out of hand earlier this week. His jeans were faded and patched with grease stains he hadn't gotten around to scrubbing out. He was pretty sure one of his sleeves had a suspiciously dragon-shaped singe mark. The overall effect screamed: hobo chic, but make it flammable.
"So," Jason said, finally pulling his smirk back into something more neutral. "It appears you've been evicted from your home."
Leo rolled his eyes. "Evidently," he hissed. "When I get my hands on Festus, I'll—"
"Well then!" Piper cut in, grinning, before he could finish plotting his dragon's untimely demise. "Now that you're homeless—"
"I am not homeless," Leo snapped.
"—We can maybe hang out!" Piper finished brightly, ignoring him. "It really has been a while since it was just the three of us, huh?"
Her smile faltered into a sigh, her voice softening.
"Yeah..." Leo started to agree, but then caught the look on Jason's face. Contrary to the pencil-pushing, follow-the-rules look Leo usually saw on Jason's face — or the verge-of-laughter look he'd been rocking a second ago — this was different. Jason looked... uncomfortable. Almost pained.
Leo raised an eyebrow, studying him. Jason was doing his best to smooth it over, to hide it behind that classic Roman composure. But to Leo, who'd spent enough time with him to know the micro-expressions. Jason gave the tiniest shake of his head, silently begging him not to bring it up.
"Anyways," Jason said suddenly, his voice a little too casual. "Anything you guys wanna do specifically?"
Translation: Got the memo. Don't talk about it. Just roll.
Piper perked up suddenly, like a lightbulb had gone off in her head. "We could go to the climbing wall. I've always wanted a shot at it."
She glanced at Jason, her eyes narrowing in mock challenge. Jason, to his credit, tried to keep his expression neutral, but Leo caught the flicker of a grimace before he plastered on his standard "I don't get paid enough for this" expression. Piper didn't miss it.
"And I know for sure I'm beating you," she added smugly.
Leo folded his arms, leaning back on his heels. "Really, Pipes? You do know I'll smoke you right out of the lava, right?"
Piper raised her eyebrows. "In your dreams, Valdez. You couldn't climb if your life depended on it."
"You do know I'm literally fireproof, right?"
"And how exactly is that supposed to help you climb faster?" she shot back.
Leo opened his mouth, ready to invent some counterargument involving jet propulsion and superior Hephaestus muscle power, when suddenly—
Clamp.
Jason's hands latched onto both of their ears with all the subtlety of a Roman legion storming a fortress.
"Come on, you two," he said, sounding every bit the exasperated older brother. "Stop fighting. Why don't we settle this on the climbing wall itself?"
"Ouch, Superman," Leo yelped, wriggling under Jason's grip. "Do you mind? These ears are sensitive precision instruments."
Piper winced, but she was already grinning again. "Fine. Let's do it."
Leo rubbed his ear when Jason finally released him. "Yeah, sure, why not? I've got nothing better to do than destroy you two on a glorified rock face."
They started walking together across the camp. The familiar smells of wood smoke, pine needles, and strawberry fields drifted in on the breeze. Campers were scattered around, training or lounging, and a couple of them glanced curiously at the trio as they passed — probably because Piper was still smirking like she was plotting Leo's imminent demise, Jason had his hands shoved into his pockets like a reluctant babysitter, and he was muttering to himself about "ungrateful friends" and "dragons with attitude problems."
By the time they reached the towering climbing wall, Leo tilted his head back and whistled low. The thing loomed high above them, jagged rock studded with glowing fissures, rivers of molten lava oozing down the cracks. Huge boulders occasionally shifted in the wall with a grinding sound, just to keep things interesting.
"This cannot be safe," Jason muttered, staring up at the climbing wall like it had personally offended him.
"This probably violates at least a dozen safety codes," Piper added, "and another dozen child safety laws."
Leo had to admit, they weren't wrong. Even by his safety standards—which were already scraping the bottom of the proverbial barrel—this thing was a death trap. He'd built his fair share of fire hazards, sure, but at least he tried to keep the destruction to a "one-tree-on-fire" level. This climbing wall? Looked like it had the potential to burn down the entire camp... and maybe develop legs while it was at it.
Leo and Piper exchanged competitive grins. Jason, on the other hand, looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"I'm gonna smoke both of you," Leo said, cracking his knuckles and giving an exaggerated stretch—only to open his eyes and find they'd already started. Piper was halfway up the wall. Jason was right behind her, moving like it was an actual war drill.
"You guys could've at least given me a head start!" Leo yelled as he scrambled to catch up. "I was dead, like, three days ago! You could cut the cripple some slack!"
Piper snorted without looking back. Jason stayed focused, climbing in steady bursts.
The wall rumbled under Leo's hands, and the handhold he grabbed sank into the surface like quicksand. He yelped, snatching for another grip as a spout of lava sprayed across his back, scorching his shirt. Fireproof or not, that still stung.
"Nice try!" Leo shouted at the wall, hauling himself up a few feet.
Jason pressed his palm against a slab of rock, and Leo swore the whole section crackled with electricity. Piper hissed every time her fingers brushed the charged handholds.
"Hey! I thought we weren't using powers, Superman!" Leo yelled.
Jason didn't even look back. "We never agreed to that. And you're quite literally immune to fire."
"Fair point," Leo admitted. "But why not just fly?"
Jason grinned. "Where's the fun in that?"
Above them, Piper dodged a swinging boulder and vaulted onto a ledge like she'd been training for this all her life. The wall tilted suddenly, turning a vertical climb into an angled slope. Loose gravel rained down, and Leo coughed, clinging to the nearest grip.
"Oh, come on!" he shouted at the wall, like it was a person. "Play fair!"
Piper glanced back at Jason, her eyes sparkling in that way that made Leo unsure if she was about to kiss him or push him off a cliff. "Hey, Jason... wouldn't it be great if you just let go of that ledge?"
That was his answer.
Jason's expression went blank for a split second. "Uh... sure."
He released his grip and dropped like a rock. It wasn't until he was halfway down that realisation hit, and by then it was too late. He landed with a thud that shook the entire wall.
Leo winced in sympathy. "Ouch. Ten out of ten for style, though."
He returned his attention to the only remaining threat above him and resumed climbing. Piper's grunts carried down from higher up, each one a reminder that she was closing in on victory. At this rate, she'd reach the top before he was even halfway there. Even if he doubled his pace, his body wouldn't hold out — and she could still charmspeak him like she had with Jason. He needed a plan, and it had to be good.
Then it hit him. Heat meant expansion, expansion meant force, and force meant momentum.
He pressed one palm flat against the wall and superheated the air trapped in a narrow crack just above him. In an instant, the air expanded violently, kicking loose a chunk of rock that dropped into his other hand. He hurled the stone upward, heating it as it flew so the surrounding air thinned, reducing drag and letting it sail farther. The rock lodged into a crevice high above, exactly where he needed it. Grinning, he snapped his fingers — the residual heat in the stone created a sudden updraft that rushed past him, lightening his weight for a split second.
He jumped upward, riding the brief updraft of air that propelled him far above where Piper had just been. He smiled when he heard her gasp in surprise, followed by her shout of, “STOP!” His body froze at the sound of her charmspeak — but it was too late. Momentum had already carried him high into the air, and he landed neatly at the top of the climbing wall. He shot a wide grin at the now-dumbstruck Piper, who had been only a few short meters from victory moments before.
From the top, the entire camp looked small enough to fit in his palm. Only now did he realize just how high he was — and it added yet another reason to his mental list of why this wall was probably a massive safety hazard. Still, as he looked down, a surprising calm washed over him. Being alone at the top was… oddly relaxing.
“You cheated!” Piper sputtered, snapping him back to reality and the fact that he had just won their little race — a fact he fully intended to remind her of for the next few decades.
“I did not,” he replied smugly.
“Oh, really? How do you explain suddenly flying into the air, then?” she shot back before glancing down at Jason, who was still recovering from his fall. “You didn’t have Jason help you, did you?”
He shrugged. “I didn’t, beauty queen. It was just some basic physics.”
She rolled her eyes, but then they narrowed dangerously. Leo had only a few seconds to realise what was coming.
“Leo, could you be a dear and jump down for me?” she asked with a syrupy sweetness that didn’t fool him for a second — though somehow, it still worked. Without thinking, as if it were the most reasonable request in the world, he jumped.
He landed squarely on his chest with a resounding oof. As the wind was knocked out of him, he silently offered both thanks and apologies to his body for enduring yet another round of punishment.
He heard Piper drop down to his left. Unlike him and Jason, she didn’t seem the least bit winded or sore from a fall that should have rattled every bone in her body. Must be nice, he thought sourly.
“Ugh, that was petty,” he groaned, pushing himself upright.
“Oops, did I do that?” Piper asked with mock innocence.
He smiled despite himself. For once, it really did feel like everything was fine — and maybe, for the first time in a long while, he could let his mind relax. The cold edge of the bronze coin in his pocket pressed lightly against his leg, but it didn’t bother him in the slightest. He almost laughed at himself for ever believing the words of some shadowy figure from a dream. Everything was going to be just fine.
Leo was about to fire back a retort when the air split with an inexplicable, massive roar in the distance. He didn’t just hear it — he felt it. The ground beneath his feet trembled as if an earthquake had just torn through Camp Half-Blood. The shock staggered him back a step, and he caught the same bewildered look on both Piper’s and Jason’s faces.
They were all thinking it. That roar, that shaking — it sounded exactly like something a monster would do. But that was impossible. The magical barriers around camp were supposed to keep monsters out.
So what could have caused it?
Leo shook the thought from his head. That didn’t matter right now — what mattered was finding out what in Hades was going on. Judging by the way Piper and Jason moved, they were on the same page. Without a word, the three of them exchanged quick nods and bolted toward the source of the sound.
Percy POV
You’d think that after two wars, Percy would be used to getting ambushed by monsters in the most random ways possible and during the most random times possible. Truth was, he wasn't, and he was starting to get tired of the whole song and dance.
The afternoon had started perfectly normal. He and Annabeth had decided to take their usual quiet time on the fringes of the camp grounds, far enough from the noise to get some peace. Annabeth had been putting the final touches on the new guest hut for Calypso, and Percy had just finished drilling some new campers on basic sword work. Both of them were exhausted and in no hurry to be anywhere else.
They hadn’t talked much since meeting up, but that was fine. Their relationship had reached a point where silence wasn’t really awkward. Walking hand in hand along the camp border, Percy felt the steady calm of her presence settle over him like a warm blanket.
That calm lasted until a shadow fell across the path—and a very large cyclops stepped into view.
It was easily four times bigger than most cyclopes Percy had fought, with scorched, tattered clothes and burn marks scored across its skin. It didn’t speak like Tyson or any of the more civil ones Percy had met; instead, it went straight for him with a swipe big enough to level a tree. Percy yanked Annabeth down with him just as the monster’s fist tore through the air above them.
The thing bellowed, shaking the ground. It swung again, shattering a nearby pine into splinters.
“Annabeth!” Percy shouted over the roar. “How is this thing even here?”
She turned toward him, and the look on her face wasn’t one he wanted to see—confusion. “Maybe we accidentally walked out of the camp’s borders?”
He shook his head. “No. This is still inside camp.”
She bit her bottom lip, clearly thinking fast.
“It’s fine,” he said. “We can take it. It’s only one cyclops.”
“One very large cyclops,” she corrected, eyeing the monster as it struggled to yank its hand free from a tree trunk it had somehow tangled itself in. “Do you have Riptide?”
Percy had already pulled the pen from his pocket. One click, and the familiar weight of celestial bronze filled his hand. Annabeth’s drakon-bone sword gleamed as she drew it, both of them stepping forward to meet the charging giant.
As the cyclops thundered toward them, Percy and Annabeth moved in perfect sync—splitting at the last second. Annabeth darted right, nimble as ever, while Percy veered left. The sudden movement made the monster hesitate, its single eye swiveling between them, unsure which target to crush first.
That hesitation was all Percy needed. He lunged in low, driving Riptide into its massive foot—easily the size of a compact car—slicing clean through one of its toes. The cyclops let out a roar that rattled the trees, its gaze locking on Percy like a laser.
“Uh-oh,” Percy muttered, diving aside just as a massive fist slammed into the ground where he’d been standing. The impact shook the earth so hard he nearly lost his balance.
Before it could swing again, the cyclops bellowed in pain a second time—Annabeth must’ve gotten in behind it and carved into its back. The enraged monster abandoned swiping altogether, deciding stomping was the better option.
Unfortunately, that meant both Percy and Annabeth now had to dodge a storm of two giant, tree-trunk-sized legs trying to flatten them into demigod pancakes. Each stomp sent gusts of wind and dirt flying, forcing them back.
“Why is this cyclops so big?” Annabeth shouted, rolling out of the way of another earth-shaking step.
“I don’t know!” Percy called back, stabbing upward at its ankle as it tried to squash him. Riptide bit into the thick skin, and he yanked it free just in time to avoid being caught underfoot. Another guttural howl tore from the monster’s throat.
Percy was tired. Normally, a fight like this would’ve been a solid workout—dangerous, sure, but not exhausting. Today, though? He felt like he was running on fumes. Hours of sparring with campers earlier had already left his arms feeling heavy, and the nightmare from the night before had stolen whatever rest he’d hoped for. Every slash, every dodge felt slower, less precise than it should’ve been.
He glanced around and silently cursed. No water nearby. He could try yanking some from underground, but that would take a lot of effort—and if he mistimed it, he’d be a pancake before he could even lift his sword. Worse, he didn’t know if he had the energy to dodge after pulling a stunt like that.
Annabeth didn’t look much better. She was slightly slower than usual, and he could tell she was adjusting to her new drakon-bone sword after losing her dagger months ago. She still fought with that razor-sharp focus, but her footwork was just a fraction tighter than normal, her movements looked more weighed down than they should have been. Percy wasn’t worried about whether they could kill the thing. He was worried about how badly they’d get hurt in the process.
Backup might’ve been an option—someone had to hear the racket—but given where they were, he didn’t want to count on it. Waiting could mean losing the fight to exhaustion instead of brute force.
The cyclops must’ve gotten sick of having its feet carved into because it switched back to swiping at them. Percy stepped in to parry, Riptide flashing upward in a perfect arc—only to meet resistance. The blade bit shallowly into the monster’s thick, calloused fingers before the cyclops yanked its hand back.
Annabeth used that moment. “Percy—eyes!” she shouted.
He didn’t need more than that. She darted left, drawing the monster’s gaze, while Percy rolled right, coming up fast on its blind side. Annabeth feinted high, her sword catching the sunlight just enough to make the cyclops flinch and tilt its head. That was all the opening Percy needed—he lunged, slashing at the creature’s knee with enough force to stagger it.
The cyclops bellowed and swiped wildly, but Annabeth was already climbing up its leg like the world’s most dangerous ladder. Percy stayed low, slashing at its ankles and shins, forcing it to split its attention. Annabeth reached its shoulder and, without hesitation, drove her blade into the soft flesh right beneath its eye.
The roar was deafening. It stumbled backward, hands clutching its face. Percy seized the chance—he sprinted forward, leapt onto its thigh, and stabbed upward into its chest with all the force he had left. The blow landed deep.
A shudder ran through the monster before it dissolved into a pile of golden dust, the sound of its death cry fading on the wind. Percy dropped to the grass, panting. Annabeth landed beside him a moment later, equally winded. They met eyes, sharing a silent look.
The Fates must’ve been pulling some sick prank on them. One second they were catching their breath, the next Percy could hear the voices of Piper, Jason, and Leo cutting through the trees, all calling toward them. Footsteps pounded the dirt, and moments later the three of them emerged from a bend in the path, running hard. Clearly, they’d heard the commotion.
“Great timing, guys,” Percy muttered under his breath, then let himself flop backward onto the grass, staring at the sky. His lungs were still burning.
“What happened?” Leo demanded, his gaze flicking over both him and Annabeth. “You two look like you just ran a marathon.” His eyes narrowed as he glanced at Piper and Jason. “Are we sure they were fighting monsters or—”
“LEO,” Piper snapped, cutting him off before he could finish whatever smart comment was about to come out of his mouth. She turned her attention back to Percy and Annabeth. “Seriously, what happened? We heard a roar, felt the ground shaking—thought you two were in trouble.”
“Well, evidently they were,” Jason said, crouching to inspect the scene. He ran a hand over the golden dust where the Cyclops had fallen, then scanned the smashed trees and the huge cracks in the earth. “Did you guys fight a Cyclops?”
Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. Big one, too.” She pushed herself up, then offered Percy a hand. He took it reluctantly, letting her pull him to his feet, though she kept an arm around his waist for support.
“But…” Piper frowned, glancing around at the surrounding trees, with a confused expression growing on her face. “Aren’t we still inside camp borders?”
“Yeah,” Percy answered, still catching his breath. “This area should be under the protection of the barrier.”
“Then how did the Cyclops get through?” Annabeth’s voice was tight. She leaned down beside Jason, running her fingers over the dust like she could read the monster’s history from the ashes. “And for the record, that thing wasn’t strong enough to force its way in. Something’s off.”
Percy’s jaw clenched. “Last time anything like this happened, the barrier was failing because the Thalia's tree had been poisoned.”
“Which is exactly why,” Leo added, “I’m asking—did something happen to the Golden Fleece?”
It was a question Percy had been wondering himself. The barriers had been solid ever since they’d restored the Golden Fleece. But if someone—or something—had stolen it and poisoned Thalia’s tree again… that could explain how something as big as a Cyclops got through without setting off every magical alarm in camp.
The thought made his stomach twist. Monsters slipping through was one thing. Monsters this size? That was a whole new problem. He opened his mouth to say they should go check on the tree—
“No, the Fleece is fine,” a voice called from behind. Hazel stepped into view with Calypso at her side, both of them breathing hard like they’d been running. Percy noticed Calypso’s eyes sweep the group until they landed on one person in particular. The way her face eased when she saw Leo safe was… hard to miss.
“When we heard the noise, we thought the barrier was compromised,” Hazel continued. “I was with Calypso and Frank. We checked the tree—the Fleece is still there, nothing’s wrong.”
“Where’s Frank?” Jason asked.
“Oh, we sent him to get Chiron,” Hazel said. Then she smirked faintly. “Calypso insisted we run over here.”
Calypso gave an awkward little cough, her gaze darting away.
Annabeth crossed her arms, ignoring the comment Hazel made about Calypso. “That doesn’t make sense. The barrier wouldn’t just let something in. And if the Fleece is fine, this shouldn’t even be possible.”
Before they could debate further, Piper started, “We should probably secure the camp in case more monsters—”
She never finished.
“Watch out!” Leo’s voice cut through the air, sharp and urgent. Before anyone could react, a column of flame roared past, blasting into a skeletal warrior that had been creeping up behind them. The monster was flung back into a tree with a deafening crack, its bones blackened from the heat.
Percy turned to thank Leo for the quick save—then saw the expression on his face.
It wasn’t relief. It was shock.
Percy followed his gaze and saw why. The skeleton hadn’t missed entirely. Its jagged blade had cut into Calypso before Leo’s flames hit. She staggered, clutching her side. And dripping between her fingers wasn’t golden ichor.
It was red.
Mortal red.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke. Percy’s stomach dropped. This shouldn’t be possible. She was supposed to be a Titan’s daughter, a being bound by magic. And yet…
He felt a sigh escape him.
Why couldn’t the Fates let them have one peaceful year?