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“I, Perseus Jackson, Son of Sally Jackson and the God of the Seas, do so petition Olympus for the soul of Annabeth Chase, daughter of Frederick Chase and the Goddess of Strategy.”
“You petition the Gods for the life of a mortal? The gods have no mercy for fallen heroes. Even as Poseidon’s son, they would not grant you such a wish.”
Percy ignored her, eyes fixed on Annabeth’s blank stare. If he could’ve willed her back to life, he would’ve done it. If he thought that Hades might take him instead, he would’ve offered. If begging for her to just come back to him might've coaxed her into staying, he would’ve asked. Instead, he did what he knew would work.
“I would offer you the death of Gaia in payment for the life of Annabeth Chase.”
“You would dare to assume you could defeat me? You are but one demigod. Your friends are scattered, there is no one to help you.”
Percy’s gaze lifted away from Annabeth to stare down the Earth Mother.
“I am a son of the Big Three. I do not need help.”
“Is that a challenge I hear? I am still more than willing to let you go free. You have raised me from my slumber and I would still reward you for it.”
Carefully, he laid Annabeth on the ground and stood. The Earth Mother’s smile wavered as he pulled Riptide from his pocket. His eyes were dark and threatening. This was not the demigod who had laughed and made jokes. Here was the demigod who had lived despite all attempts to kill him. Here was the demigod who had chosen Tartarus, who had faced down every monster he had ever sent there and lived. Here was Poseidon’s Son.
Here was Perseus Jackson.
A choking gasp startled his gaze from Gaia and he turned to see Annabeth rolling onto her side, her skin a warm pink and her chest heaving with life. A woman was kneeling beside her, gently rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. The goddess’s steely gaze looked up to meet his stare and Percy felt a knot loosen in his chest.
“Take her as far from here as you can.”
Athena nodded and looked back to her daughter, “Say goodbye, you’ll regret it if you don’t.”
Annabeth looked up at her mother in confusion. Only moments before it had been Percy staring down at her, promising her it would be okay, it would all be okay.
“M-mom?”
“Hey, Wise Girl?”
Annabeth’s head weakly turned to look at him, “Percy?”
“You saved me.”
“Percy, what are you talking about?” the raspy words only barely reached his ears as her head spun to figure out what was happening. “What happened?”
“I’m saying, I love you. I’ll always love you and I’ll always fight for you, but you saved me and now it’s my turn. Goodbye Wise Girl.”
Annabeth’s eyes widened in understanding but before she could say any more or fight her way from her mother’s arms, they were gone. In their place a too-large, too-bright stain remained. A reminder of his promise.
“So what if your girlfriend’s still alive? That doesn’t mean it wasn’t all a trick. It could be an illusion. They could be showing you what they want you to see so you’ll do their dirty work.”
His resolve solidified and racing heart began to slow as he felt himself falling backwards into the part of him that raged with the power of a hundred hurricanes and had no mercy to call upon.
“I am Percy Jackson, and you will die by my hand.”
“You,” she spat back, “will die by your own hand.”
He only raised Riptide, admiring the way the shining sun glinted off its clean edge.
“Do you know what happens to an oceanside cliff? Tell me, Gaia, when has the earth ever waged war on the water? When have you ever won against a tide of a thousand years?”
“You do not have a thousand years, Jackson, and you do not have the tide either.” She gestured to the barren landscape around them.
Perseus Jackson looked Gaia right in the eyes and replied in a voice that echoed the calm before the storm. The stillness of an ocean preparing to rip itself apart.
“I am the tide and I will not need a thousand years to kill you.”