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Chapter Text

Percy Jackson was in sixth grade, his best friend was Grover Underwood, and his Latin teacher was lying to him about something. He just couldn’t figure out what.

Mr. Brunner had seemed to be watching him since day twenty of the school year when he took over from the old Latin teacher. And he always seemed to be in his office, meaning Percy needed to work harder to find out the questions on tests before he had to take them, which sucked.

Worse, Mr. Brunner also seemed never to believe Percy when he lied. Percy could run faster than most kids, but it didn’t mean he wanted to race to class. It was much easier to come up with an excuse for why he was tardy. He had a “naturally believable voice,” and Mr. Brunner was the first teacher to ever push back about it. 

So Percy did what any self-respecting underking of sixth grade would do: He made Mr. Brunner’s life much, much harder. 

Percy did his best to annoy the man through the year, rearranging the papers on his desk to making sure the cafeteria never had the salads Mr. Brunner liked. His magnum opus, the thing Percy had been working on for the whole year, was a plan to steal Mr. Brunner’s pen, the one he never let leave his body. 

Percy was pretty adept at pickpocketing, he had learned as a kid to get money to buy candy from a nice store owned by a friend of his mother's who he didn’t want to steal from, so he just needed to get close enough right? Wrong. Mr. Brunner didn’t look like much, a middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair with thinning hair, a scruffy beard, and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee, but he had always noticed exactly where Percy’s hands were whenever Percy had tried to get the darn pen. Which, of course, made Percy want to steal it even more. All he needed to do was make a distraction so he would be too busy to notice Percy. 

So he planned, procuring fireworks and setting the scene in his mind over and over until he was sure it would go the way he wanted. He’d never brought in fireworks before because they were too risky; candy and test answers were all fun and games, but explosives? Those could get out of control. So, two weeks before the end of school, Percy Jackson set his plan into motion.

The plan was far from simple, but Percy had called in his favors and bribed just enough for the scene to play out.

The courtyard next to the Latin classroom was full of noise, enough excitement for Chiron to feel pushed to investigate. He quickly searched through the crowd for Percy Jackson but saw no sign of him. 

Chiron probably shouldn’t have let his guard down, but he’d spent the last six months since Grover called him about a problem in New York keeping two eyes open at night, trying to make Percy learn something and not just memorize the answer keys that the boy stole, all while trying futility to not get too attached to the kid. He knew all too well how little the boy appreciated his efforts, but Achilles had never appreciated running drill after drill until he was out in the real world, so Chiron didn’t mind too much. Still, he was tired of fending off Percy’s attempts to annoy him.

Putting the demigod whose parentage he, unfortunately, had a guess on out of his mind, Chiron wheeled over to the crowd where an explosion had just sounded and purple sparks jumped, only to find another lit firework in the center. Well, this day would be exciting, at least. 

As though there had been any doubt. 

“Step back!” he commanded, taking a deep breath when several students seemed to take this as a command to step back into him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a blur but didn’t turn, focused on getting the students to move out of his way long enough for him to put the gods be damned firework out. Then, he noticed a sudden change in weight in his breast pocket. 

He didn’t have time to deal with that, so Chiron chose to focus on disposing of the firework, and gathering as many of the students who had been on the scene as possible to try and get a somewhat clear idea of what happened in the courtyard. He had a suspicion, of course, that it had something to do with a certain puckish demigod who was now in possession of a sword. 

And to think, there were still two weeks left in the school year. 

Percy waited till he was back in the classroom he had commandeered in fourth grade to admire his prize, an expensive-looking ballpoint pen. He felt slightly bad for taking the pen— he knew teachers were underpaid, and wheelchairs weren’t cheap but reminded himself that he still planned to give it back, he just wanted Mr. Brunner to experience some of the panic Percy had felt as he tried to study while all the names moved around on the page. Normally, teachers accepted the fact he had dyslexia and lowered their standards for his spelling, but Mr. Brunner pushed him. He did make Percy feel like he was believed in, and the tournament days were fun, but some things could never be forgiven. 

He uncapped it, planning to write the man a note ostensibly from the pen itself, detailing its travel, only for the last thing he expected to happen. 

Percy had prepared for if he got caught, he’d prepared for if the room was locked, he’d prepared for every scenario except the pen turning into a literal sword, the one Mr. Brunner had on tournament days.

Well.

Percy had played at sword fighting as a kid, hitting sticks with the neighborhood kids, but in real life, a sword seemed… well awkward. The grip felt just slightly off, the blade both too heavy and too light. He swung it in an arc but it pitched forward as he did, and he had to drop it before the natural arc of the swing finished and the sword buried itself in his leg. 

That would have been hard to explain to his mother. 

He looked down at the sword that had clattered loudly to the floor — he couldn’t just walk around the school halls with it. Would he be able to make it turn back into a pen? 

Percy touched the cap of the pen to the top of the sword, feeling thoroughly ridiculous as he did. Still, the sword shrunk into itself until he held a small, innocuous, pen. 

He put it back in Mr. Brunner’s office, resting on the table as though it had been forgotten. 

The pen/sword/terrible demon creation was back in his pocket when he woke up, his mother in the kitchen making breakfast, his clothes from the day before haphazardly tossed near the laundry bin. He’d put his hands in his pockets as he got out of bed only to find the pen back somehow, as if haunting him. 

He was finally going to be caught with a stolen thing and it was barely even his fault! 

He didn’t realize he was mumbling to himself until he went into the kitchen and his mother was standing there, worried. 

Percy looked like a younger version of his mother—albeit a version of her who was a bit more impish. The mischievous smile that marked him a troublemaker stood against her warm brown skin and dark eyes. Percy didn’t want his mom to ever worry about him. He was a troublemaker and a prankster, but he knew his mom deserved a better kid. 

Sally had been stressed when he was kicked out of the first two schools he went to and stressed when he got caught running a betting ring in fourth grade before he moved to the new room. So, Percy had stopped getting expelled and stopped getting caught. Percy loved his mom, so he made sure to not cause her stress by getting in trouble, which included demon pens. 

Besides, his mom didn’t condone breaking the rules unless it was a stupid rule.

Hermes had fallen in love with Sally Jackson because of her charm, her wit, and the unbelievable amount of tax fraud she committed. It’s not every day a mortal puts herself through college solely by scamming the American tax system into believing she donated fifty times her salary. Many people committed tax fraud, but Sally Jackson not only wasn’t a billionaire, Hermes was pretty sure she was trying to take billionaires down. 

She was also beautiful. 

Sally was Yemeni, with long wavy black hair and deep brown eyes, but what stood out most was her smile. When he managed to make her laugh he felt like the funniest god in the heavens. 

So, he broke his oath, and Sally Jackson suddenly had a little bit of help as she figured out how to get the government to pay for her new son. She greatly appreciated his help when her uncle died during her first year of college — she was pretty sure she would have had to drop out if not for him — especially after her son came into the world.

Hermes hadn’t expected Percy to even be born, normally the fates took care of his oath, but he treasured every moment until Percy was at the age where he would begin forming memories. He stayed with her until then, treasuring every moment, and doing everything in his power to support her. Sally was a special woman and Hermes felt it was his duty and privilege to laugh with her and hold her when she cried. After he had to leave he made sure to pay his child support, depositing a few hundred dollars in cash on her desk once a month. 

Percy was going to have to talk to Mr. Brunner. It wasn’t his first choice, but neither was a demon pen. His mom had never been religious — whenever he tried to bring it up she had always grinned to herself at some joke that she always refused to tell him — but this was enough for Percy to start believing in demons at least. He’d tried everything he could think of, but even giving it to someone else to keep in their pocket hadn’t fixed things. So, he was going to the source.

He waited. Until the school year ended, until all the flowers were blooming and everyone else in the school had bought a pass off of him to a pool or went to go buy ice cream. Then, he went to talk to his teacher.

Mr. Brunner was a good teacher, Percy’s year learning Latin from him had shown that— even if his spelling tests had broken Percy’s straight-A record. He was always cracking jokes in class and letting them all play games. Still, ever since he cursed Percy with his demon pen, Percy had been a little warier of the man.

Mr. Brunner seemed to sense Percy. He was uncannily good at noticing Percy, which really wasn’t fair because no one ever noticed Percy!

“Well, Percy, what’s bothering you this fine afternoon? I’d have thought you’d run off to the pool all of your classmates love.” Percy was pretty sure that was Mr. Brunner’s way of saying he knew Percy sold stolen or forged pool passes, but honestly, how was anyone who wasn’t rich supposed to get entrance to a pool? 

Percy and his mom weren’t poor, but they weren’t rich either. His mom worked on her books when she got home from her office job of the year, but the jobs never paid that well and his mom was always donating to people who needed money more than they did. His mom had the worst luck at job searching; She’d always work for a company for a year or two then suddenly the company would go under and be revealed to have been corrupt and hurting customers. Sally never seemed sad when she had to hunt for a new job, and Percy admired that about her, the way she was always happy and ready to take on whatever life would throw at her. 

He turned his attention back to the teacher in front of him, “I found your pen in the courtyard over there and thought I’d return it to you.” It wasn’t technically a lie. 

Mr. Brunner hummed and held out his hand. “Thank you for returning it, Percy. A long time ago this pen was given into my care, I would hate to have lost it.” 

Percy walked over to give the pen back, “The pen seems hard to lose. I was sure it had fallen out of my pocket after lunch but then I checked and it was back.” 

Mr. Brunner smiled at Percy like his mother did, a twinkle in his eye. “Yes, the pen has a funny way of always coming back to its owner,” was all he said, before pausing as if considering something. “You know, Percy, you should get on with your summer, but I have a–” Percy had already sprinted away, glad to be free of the pen and school. 

Grover was waiting for him before the walk home. He was twelve, like Percy, and always wearing a hat even as the summer drew nearer. His skin was a lighter brown than Percy’s, and he used crutches to help him walk due to some muscular disease. Percy and Grover went the same way home every day after school, winding through the Manhattan streets until they arrived at Sally’s apartment where they dumped their bags before heading out into the city to cause mischief or just hang out. Percy never asked why Grover stayed out so late, if Grover wasn’t going to say anything about his home life then Percy wouldn’t pry.

When Grover’s crutch slipped on something and he started to fall towards the stairs they’d been walking past in the mall, going to the elevator, with Percy waiting ahead for Grover and buying some gum from the nickel machines, talking all the way. Percy had had both too much and too little time to think before he acted. He ran to catch Grover, ran in the way that seemed too fast for anyone to see, letting a yellow thread fly from its spool in his core. 

Grover was shaky after Percy caught him, shakier than Percy had ever seen, even when his crutches had been stolen by some kids earlier that year. 

(Percy ensured that those kids wouldn’t come back to their school. There wasn't much that made Percy truly angry, but hurting the people he cared for was the number one ticket to his bad side.)

The two of them sat in Sally’s apartment. It was cool enough to enjoy the air conditioning, but Percy felt sure that Grover was not enjoying himself. 

The blood had drained from Grover’s skin, leaving him ashen. He kept adjusting his cap and seemed to be mumbling to himself. Percy just did the best he could to take care of Grover. He hoped this wasn’t because of his speed. He’d never run that way in front of Grover before. 

In elementary school, Percy had tried to do as his mom said, ‘stick out enough to be liked, blend in enough to be underestimated.’ He was able to succeed at it, for the most part, but the breaking point for seven-year-old Percy’s normalcy had been when he was racing against some kids on the playground and he had felt something open up inside of him, like a yellow-gold spool of thread had started to unroll. He had run faster than the wind, ran so fast he was at the end of the section marked out with sticks in the dirt before the other kids had done anything more than take their first strides, breath coming evenly. 

Percy had expected them to cheer for him, or be in awe, but none of the kids seemed to even notice. He’d moved through first grade like a ghost, kids never seeming to even see him. After that year, (and his expulsion for shooting a cannon at a school bus at the end of it,) he’d done his best to never let that spool move. And he’d succeeded, until that day at the mall. 

Sally felt as worried as Grover looked when Percy regaled the story to her. She had her suspicions on who, or what exactly, Grover was, and she had known someone was keeping an eye on Percy, she had just hoped—. 

Hermes had said Percy’s smell wouldn’t be strong until his teen years, she had hoped for one more year with him as her baby son. She had hoped to have another year of coming home from helping customers keep their wits in the face of the corrupt company of the year to find her son waiting with a story about his classes, to watch him pretend to be diligently studying, to lightly poke him about the shirt he had that she knew she hadn’t bought. She had hoped to have a kid instead of a half-blood born of a broken oath for just a year more. 

But then, life never did go as you wished, and Sally had always been good at shouldering her burdens. 

She thought all this as she stood in her kitchen, on the yellow checkered floor that had withstood years of wear and oak cabinets she’d gotten off a man who definitely stole them. She straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and steeled her nerve. Lying to Percy would be a laughable endeavor. 

“Percy,” she’d rehearsed this speech many times in her head, every time that Percy got home from talking his way out of being found in a locked room or accused of stealing an answer key. “Remember when I’d read you stories about the Greek gods?” Her son nodded. Percy had always been so attentive during those stories, as though he’d known his life would depend on it. “They’re real.”

“Okay,” Percy said. He could tell she wasn’t lying, even if he didn’t know how in God’s name— in the gods' names maybe? he was supposed to process this information. He knew his voice shook but it was the best front he could put forwards. He focussed on staying in control of his face and breathing. 

“Your father is one of them.” 

Sally told Percy all she could, that his father was a god, that there was a summer camp designed for people like him, that she loved him very much, but it was probably best if he went there because they would be able to teach him how to survive. She told things as carefully as she could, with Grover being there. Sally knew Percy would know when she wasn’t being truthful, but he knew that some things were important to keep secret. She told Percy and Grover that she didn’t know who Percy’s father had been and that she’d assumed he was a minor god. She told them that he had been kind and sincere. She told them that he was an honest man and that he loved Percy very much and hadn’t wanted to leave them. That last part, at least, wasn’t a lie. Most importantly, Sally told her son “You won’t need to keep any of this information hidden,” hoping he caught the undertones of please make sure everyone believes this. Percy took it all in, nodding as though this happened to him every day, although she could see his internal wheels turning franticly. 

She wished she could tell him all of it. 

He would be okay, he had to be okay.

Percy had had a weird day. He could handle the “your father is a Greek god” speech, he could handle when his mother told him she was going to drive him and Grover to a summer camp, he could even handle when Grover had taken his hat off to reveal goat horns. What he couldn't handle was: 

1. The fact the car trip was taking too long. 

Normally, Percy and his mother were able to find all the best routes, and always catch traffic lights when they were green. His mother had joked about him being better than any good luck charm, but today everything seemed against them. It was six by the time they managed to leave New York, rain pouring down forcing the windshield wipers to do double time, sheets upon sheets, their tires slipping on the roads. Percy felt a strange tugging in his gut, and he could have sworn the landscape changed around them, but it was too hard to see anything through the rain, and he dismissed it as stress-based.

      2. Something big and bellowing chasing them as his mother drove through the woods on dark country roads.

The wind slammed against the car, Percy didn’t know how his mom could see anything, but she kept her foot on the gas. 

The car ride hadn’t been quiet. As they piled into the car Percy asked, ‘So, you and my mom… know each other?’

Grover laughed, voice strained. “I didn’t know that she knew I was a satyr. I knew that your mom knew someone was watching you.”

“Watching me?”

“Keeping tabs on you. Making sure you were okay. But I wasn’t faking being your friend,” he added hastily. “I am your friend.”

Percy nodded. He had spent a year knowing Grover was keeping something from him. This was at least better than the ‘maybe Grover is just pretending to be my friend to get me to protect him’ theory.

    Sally made a hard left and the car swerved onto a narrower road, racing past darkened farmhouses and wooded hills. Percy knew they were on Long Island, somehow, though they hadn’t passed any bridges. It was like all of his luck with traveling had condensed into one burst, something big enough to jump islands. He felt like he could run a marathon, even as he sat in the car. He felt like he could see the yellow-gold thread inside of him. 

Then, the hair rose on the back of his neck. And he added number three.

3. There was a blinding flash, a jaw-rattling boom!, and their car exploded.

Percy felt both like he was being crushed and he was weightless. The car’s lower half was stuck in a ditch with its doors held shut by the mud and the top cracked open, letting the rain pour in. It was hard to get a grip, especially while his head hurt like this. 

Grover was knocked out, bleeding from the side of his mouth. Sally was trying to throw her body against her door but wasn’t having any luck. Percy did the same and his door opened. 

“Percy,” his mother said, deadly serious. “Get out of the car.” 

“What—”

“I need you to listen to me, climb out your door!” his mother told him. “Percy – you have to run. Do you see that big tree?” 

A flash of lightning illuminated it, a giant pine at the top of the hill. 

“That’s the property line,” Sally said. “Get over that hill and you’ll see a big farmhouse down in the valley. Run and don’t look back. Yell for help. Don’t stop until you reach the door.”

“Mom, you’re coming, too.”

Sally looked sad as she stared at Percy, but she pushed through the door and tumbled into the rain.

The two of them got out and carried Grover, still unconscious. The thing that was chasing them was closer, almost there, and with another flash of lightning, Percy could see every detail. 

A minotaur. 

“Is that a min—”

“Don’t say his name,” Sally warned. "Names have power. Call him Pasiphae’s son.” His mother’s lips were drawn tight. “I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you,” she said. 

The pine tree was still way too far – a hundred and fifty-four yards Percy would guess. The minotaur had come closer, sniffing around for them. He added, ‘I wish I’d known how badly they want to kill you’ as number four on his list of things he couldn’t process.

“He has terrible eyesight, he uses his sense of smell, but we don’t have long before he catches ours,” Sally said. Grover moaned, and the minotaur’s ears swiveled towards them uncannily. He picked up the car and threw it, Sally’s beautiful blue car that she’d scrimped and saved for crashing in a heap of sparks. “Percy,” his mom said. “When he sees us, he’ll charge. Wait until the last second, then jump out of the way – directly sideways. He can’t change direction very well once he’s charging. Do you understand?”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’ve been worried about an attack for a long time. I should have expected this. I was selfish, keeping you near me.”

“Selfish? But –”

The minotaur interrupted Percy by charging at them. He felt the same tug in his gut that he had on the ride there, the string begging to unspool so it could weave into some unseen tapestry. Then, he sidestepped. Percy wasn’t sure how but hew, he must have been running on adrenaline, but he fully shouldered Grover’s weight as he ran, going faster than even the raindrops. He could see the farmhouse as he reached the pine, a soft glow 54 yards away. He’d be able to make it, even in the rain. But what about his mother?

Percy turned back to see Sally, face set and hands shaking.  

“Percy, I can’t make it any further— go!” 

The minotaur turned to her and charged. She tried to sidestep, to do what he did, but the minotaur stuck out his hand and grabbed her. He closed his hand and Percy’s mother disappeared like the last ray of sunshine, leaving them in darkness. 

Percy wanted to run at the minotaur. He wanted to destroy it. But he was twelve years old and alone in the dark, his best friend on his shoulders. 

So he ran. He let the thread unspool, twelve years of unused energy propelling him to the porch.

Percy collapsed on the farmhouse deck in exhaustion, yelling for help. The last thing he remembered was a dark-haired boy running towards where Percy left the minotaur, a bronze sword in his hands.

Chapter Text

Percy fell in and out of dreams. Nightmares of his mother dying, flashes of a dark-haired kid sitting angrily across the room, dreams of Grover taking his hat off to reveal horns but they lengthened and lengthened until Percy was speared on them. 

“You owe me.” Was the first thing Percy heard when he came to, still unsure how much of the past day's events were a dream. “Or maybe I owe you.” 

He fell back asleep.

When he finally woke up he was sitting on the porch of the farmhouse. There was a blanket on his lap and the smell of strawberries in the air. For a minute he could pretend his mother hadn’t died and this was just some crazy dream. 

He knew it wasn’t.

Grover stood against the edge of the porch, twisting his hat in his hands, his horns on display. He wore an orange tee-shirt that read “Camp Half-Blood”  Percy didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to confirm what had happened last night, but he needed to.

“Last night, did my mom, did she, did—” Percy bit his tongue to stop his eyes from welling up. He tried to breathe. He wasn’t successful.

Grover shifted even more nervously. “Percy, it’s June 5th, you used up all your power on something, I’m not sure what, so you’ve been in and out for the last four days. Your mom protected you bravely, better than I could.” He said the last part fast, as though that would make it go unheard.

Percy focused on the metallic taste in his mouth. He felt like the world had gone silent. 

“I’m really sorry, Percy,” Grover began, but he must have seen the look on Percy’s face because he stopped. 

Percy won a pinochle game against a god, learned his teacher was a horse, and was kicked off the porch to go see his home for the next few months until he could go back home to his mo— until he could figure everything out. 

The camp looked like it had teleported from Ancient Greece, its white marble columns contrasting with the volleyball pit where a bunch of kids were playing, all in orange t-shirts like the one Grover wore. 

Mr. Brunner, who was Chiron —because Percy’s day wasn’t weird enough already— was giving Percy a tour. He was also being very unhelpful about it, in Percy’s opinion. 

Kids kept pointing at Percy, which was uncomfortable. He could hear them whispering about how he’d lead the minotaur to camp, which was not even his fault. It’s not like he asked for the minotaur to chase him.

“The twelve cabins are for the twelve gods with thrones on Mount Olympus” Chiron explained as they walked past a blue cabin filled with voices, his tail going from side to side to keep flies off. “You’ll be in the Hermes cabin until you get claimed.” 

“Claimed?”

“Yes, claimed.” They stopped in front of the most beaten-down cabin, “Cabin eleven,” Chiron told him, gesturing towards the doorway. “Make yourself at home.”

Out of all the cabins, eleven looked the most like a regular old summer camp cabin, with the emphasis on old. The threshold was worn down, the brown paint peeling. Over the doorway was a caduceus. 

Chiron couldn’t get through the door, with most cabins not being made for a horse to enter, but everyone inside bowed to him. A tall dark skinned boy who looked to be around fifteen and wore a necklace with four beads on it came from the back and smiled at Percy. “A new arrival. Let’s get you situated!”

Charles Beckendorf was head of the Hephestus cabin, and as such, was doing his one-week duty as counselor of the Hermes Cabin. Percy learned that all head counselors took one week in the summer where they slept, ate, and trained with the Hermes Cabin inhabitants. Apparently, it was good for the next in line in their cabin to have practice leading, as well as building bonds between the Hermes cabin kids and the rest of camp. 

The bond-building part didn't seem to be working, Percy thought. All the members of the cabin looked withdrawn and angry, some eyeing Percy suspiciously. 

“Why are there no children of Hermes?” Percy asked. As far as he could remember, Hermes wasn’t one of the gods known for his abstinence. 

Beckendorf's mouth pulled tight, and a few cabin members looked at Percy almost pityingly. “Thirty or forty years ago, Luke Castellan, the old head of the Hermes Cabin rebelled against the gods with two companions, Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus, and Annabeth Chase, daughter of Poseidon. They failed, of course, but ever since Zeus and Poseidon’s kids had their powers seriously restricted, and Hermes swore an oath on the River Styx not to have another child. That’s one of the only parts we’re happy about, Hermes kids were all thieves and liars. The other good thing was when they erected the pine tree and the magical border around the camp after it all went down, probably because they felt bad” 

Percy couldn’t imagine anyone rebelling against the gods. He also couldn’t imagine gods feeling bad. He wanted to ask why Luke had rebelled, why Zeus and Poseidon still had kids but Hermes didn’t. Any number of things. But he’d seen the tightness in Beckendorf’s face, the careful way he chose his words, so instead, he asked, “Is it something I shouldn’t bring up?”

“It’s a touchy subject around camp,” Percy could tell Beckindorf was omitting things, keeping something secret. “After Luke’s cronies destroyed the throne room of the gods, any powerful demigod has been carefully watched. Hephestus used to give a small fraction of his children the power to wield fire, and some rarer ones even the power to control metals, but since that day, no child of Hephestus has been born with those powers.”

“Even though no Hephestus kids were involved?” 

“Yeah, even now we have to submit blueprints for anything big we want to build and some god has to approve them.” Percy could hear the anger Beckendorf was trying to keep carefully concealed.  “I had a dragon– ah, what’s past is past. Let’s get you a bed.” 

He knew that was the most Beckendorf would tell him, so Percy got situated. His “bed” was more of a spot of floor, that a girl, Lou Ellen Blackstone, who had long light brown hair and dark blueish-purple eyes that made her seem almost inhuman, dusted off. He appreciated having a spot, at least. The cabin had two rows of bunk beds, three beds in each row, and all of them had belongings in them and little decorations and photos tacked up behind them. The bottom bunk closest to the door was the only non-decorated one, though Percy guessed from the small metal scraps on it that it was where the rotating cast of counselors slept. 

There were six spots, including Percy’s, where a camper slept on the floor. They were indicated by sleeping bags in various shades of dishevelment. 

The kid who had talked to Percy for a minute before he had fallen back to sleep was in a bottom bunk next to Percy’s spot of floor. He had short dark hair that was unevenly cut, pale skin, and a sullen look. The kid wore a necklace as the other campers did, and he had four beads on it, just like Beckendorf. He glared at Percy as he put his backpack down. The bag had two sets of clothes, undergarments, fifty dollars in cash that Percy had earned, a book of myths he’d hastily grabbed off his shelf before they left, a deck of cards, and his lockpicks. 

“I still haven’t decided which of us owes the other,” the kid said, which was not how most of Percy’s conversations started. 

He didn’t need to fake his confusion when he said, “What?” 

“Well, you left the minotaur for me to fight, which would make you owe me, but I wanted to fight a monster and my mother claimed me after I killed it, so maybe I owe you?” 

Why did the kid, whose name Percy didn’t even know, not get claimed until he killed the minotaur? Also, what was claiming? Percy could take two routes. He could pretend to know what claiming was and put the pieces together, or he could ask about it. He opted to go for the second route because knowing things before he arrived at camp might be weird. Then again, maybe most kids were told— his mother had said it was selfish of her to keep him close, and maybe part of that was hiding commonplace information. He decided to bite the bullet. 

“What is claiming?” 

“Claiming is when you do something impressive enough for your godly parent to claim you as their child. My mother, Nemesis, claimed me because I killed the minotaur and even let me invoke her power. You probably won’t get claimed if you run away from battles.”  

Percy bit back his irritation; How was he supposed to kill the minotaur barehanded? “Do you know where the extra sleeping bags are?” He asked instead of snapping at the boy. “Also, what’s your name? I’m Percy Jackson.” allies were never a bad thing to have.

“My name is Ethan Nakamura, and we don’t have spare sleeping bags. You’ll have to buy one from the camp store.” 

Percy had no plans to buy anything, especially things that should have been provided, but he kept his mouth shut. 

Beckendorf showed him around camp for real. It was plain he was taking his job as a counselor seriously, and Percy couldn’t complain. He was actually explaining everything, which was more than Chiron had done.

“You’re here because you’re a half-blood. Half mortal, half-god. As long as you remain unclaimed you stay in the Hermes Cabin. Well, if your parent is a minor god so they don’t have a cabin you’ll stay also. Do you know anything about your parent?” Percy knew Beckendorf was asking about his father, but he wished he could talk about his mom. He missed her. 

“My mom said she thought my dad might be a minor god.” Percy knew his mother had been lying when she told him and Grover about his dad. But he also knew the urgency in her voice must have been for a reason, and hey, it’s not like he was above lying. 

Beckendorf winced. “Sorry about that.”

A thought occurred to Percy; “If you aren’t told by the kid’s godly parent about the kid then how does the camp find half-bloods?” 

“Half-Bloods smell.” Beckendorf laughed at the look on Percy’s face. “No, not like we think of it. We have a non-mortal scent that monsters can sense, but so can satyrs. Satyrs are the ones who go and scout for half-bloods. Sometimes if a demigod is powerful Chiron will check it out and keep an eye on them. Or if they’re dangerous” 

That didn’t sound good. Percy didn’t feel dangerous or powerful. He felt like a kid who wanted his mom back. 

“Besides, most demigods have things in common. I bet you have ADHD and dyslexia.” Percy nodded. 

“Why is that a demigod thing?” 

“The dyslexia is from the fact that the gods come from Greece, so something in us just doesn’t do well with non-greek letters. The ADHD is from the fact it helps you to be able to take in the full picture during battles.” Beckendorf smiled at Percy’s skeptical stare. “I’m half-joking. Demigods do have an easier time reading and speaking Greek. It’s like hard wired into whatever the gods gave us instead of DNA. Everyone has their theories on the ADHD part. I personally think it’s because the gods do so many things at once. They experience the world differently, and that clashes with our mortal parts.” 

“That’s—” Percy wasn’t sure what that was, actually. 

“Gods give you all types of traits,” Beckendorf seemed to be in his swing, bending wire excitedly as he talked. “Like how Athena kids are more bookish, or Poseidon kids don’t like having to do things a certain way.” his face darkened as he added, “or how Hermes’ kids couldn’t be trusted.” He looked down at the small wire dagger he had twisted into existence and crushed it with his hand. 

Even though the rebellion had been decades ago, Percy could see anger etched into Beckindorf’s face. The rules on the Hephestus cabin were strict, and he suspected they weren’t the only cabin that held bitterness. 

Percy had stolen a sleeping bag and some toiletries from the camp store before they left. It was good to have his own place in the cabin. He had just finished setting things up when Alabaster Torrington, son of Hecate and the oldest member of the cabin, called them all for dinner.

The Hermes cabin followed behind Beckendorf in order of seniority. Ethan was behind Alabaster who was behind Beckendorf. Percy was behind Marcy, a daughter of Tyche, as they tromped up the hill to the dining pavilion. 

Percy squeezed in next to Ethan, doing his best not to fall off the table. The Aphrodite and Zeus tables were also full, each with six kids on each side, but the Hermes Cabin had more kids than any of them, eight kids on one side and nine kids squashed on the other. Percy was beginning to understand the resentment on their faces when he stared around, the empty Hera and Artemis tables mocking them. 

He had also noticed the scorn on other camper’s faces. The Zeus kids were the worst, he had seen Sam Owens, the head counselor, around and had heard Sam’s loud fake whispers to the other Zeus kids about the kids who couldn’t even manage to get claimed, or who were claimed by minor gods. 

Chiron pounded his hoof against the marble floor of the pavilion, and everybody fell silent. He raised a glass. “To the gods!”

Everyone repeated it back. 

Wood nymphs carried food to the table, and Beckendorf yelled from the middle of the table. “Get some extra food for sacrificing. The glass will fill with whatever you want— just ask it!” Percy supposed that wasn’t more far-fetched than seeing nymphs emerge from trees. 

“Qishr.” he tested. Sure enough, the spiced coffee drink appeared in his cup. Percy had always liked qishr, but his mother had never let him drink much because of the caffeine in it. It was also a drink of hospitality, and he wanted to pretend that people were welcoming him. He wanted to pretend his mother was right around the corner. Percy took a sip and then heaped food on his plate. 

The line to sacrifice food to the gods was way too long for how hungry Percy was. He’d managed to squeak in behind Beckendorf who dropped some beautiful strawberries into the braiser before saying “Hephestus.” Percy could sense some silent prayer. 

He wasn’t sure what to say. How do you pray to a god you don’t know anything about besides that he’s your father? Finally, he dropped some lamb in and prayed. “ Whoever you are, let me know. I lost my mother, maybe it’s time you do your part .”

Every day Percy took Ancient Greek, learned about the gods, and then rotated through activities, hoping to narrow down parentage. It wasn’t working.

Besides “initiation” by the Ares cabin, Percy was having an okay time. He wasn’t great at anything but didn’t suck at anything. He could hit the second edge of the archery target. He managed to hold his own for half a minute in wrestling. He was able to finish second out of ten in canoe racing. The one thing he was good at was running, able to almost keep pace with the dryads, though he was careful to keep his thread rolled tight. The running only brought mockery and taunts about how he was good at running away from problems and making other people fix them, like the minotaur. Sword fighting was a disaster. Like with Chiron's pen-sword, none of the blades felt right in his hands. They were too long, or too short, or too heavy or too light, or all at once. At least he had Grover to talk with.

Everyone was trying to decide who Percy’s dad was, but they weren’t having an easy time with it. He wished he had any clue, but everything seemed to point to dead ends. Or what he hoped were dead ends. He started to understand the bitterness that pooled in the Hermes Cabin. 

He was also starting to wonder about his mother. Something Alabaster had offhandedly said had infiltrated his brain. He was good at stealing things, couldn’t he just steal his mother back from the underworld? Just because no one had succeeded didn’t mean no one could succeed.

He plotted how to get his mother back and he plotted how to get Grover’s career back on track. Apparently, Percy was his second failure, the first being a daughter of Zeus who he hadn’t been able to get to camp. He was traveling with two demigods and everything was fine, but then a cyclops appeared and the daughter of Zeus fought to hold back the cyclops. She ultimately failed. 

Sometimes he and Grover would just sit on a grassy hill, talking about Grover’s wish he could find Pan because the world was too big for anyone but a god to make a change, and about Percy’s grief for his mother, but Percy also spent a lot of time watching Ethan. He was an enigma to Percy. He’d seen Ethan waking up from nightmares most nights because it was when Percy woke up from nightmares as well, his mom vanishing again and again from before his eyes. Ethan’s claiming by a minor goddess had not brought him social capital around camp, though the Ares kids did seem to respect him a bit for slaying the minotaur. So along with the whispers about Percy’s cowardice, he got to hear whispers about how Ethan must be vindictive and cruel, being a son of Nemesis. Ethan didn’t seem to be mean, though he was standoffish to Percy. 

He even offered to help Percy learn to sword-fight. 

For someone who had been at camp for four and a half years, Ethan wasn’t very good at sword fighting. He was better at it than Percy, but that was a low bar. A lot of things about Ethan were confusing. Every night he practiced just writing letters in Greek and English. Aa Αα Bb Ββ and so on. He always seemed to be training somehow, switching hands regularly. The weirdest part was how much he seemed to be improving. Within a week Ethan went from barely passable at sword fighting to a solid B. 

Finally, Percy asked him about it, “Why are you always training?” 

Ethan looked at Percy like he was an idiot. “Because I want to improve?” 

“No, like how you practice sword fighting all the time or practice your letters every night.” Ethan covered the paper with his slightly shaky hand, looking at Percy suspiciously. 

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I’m curious? And I want to know what my potential friend is doing?” Percy hoped that throwing the ‘friend’ part in there would soften Ethan up.

Ethan seemed to decide the news wasn’t worth too much to share with Percy, “So you know how I got claimed when I killed the minotaur?” 

Percy did. Ethan had told the story of his mother appearing on a cart driven by griffins many times, each time highlighting how brave he was for taking on the minotaur, and how proud his mother was. 

“Well, she also let me make my first trade. Children of Nemesis can apparently sacrifice things in exchange for powers or abilities. So I sacrificed all the built-up skill of my right hand in exchange for becoming ambidextrous. It’ll take a year or so to get both hands to the level I need, but it will be worth it.”

Percy thought he should open up the list of things he couldn’t handle because this was definitely item number five. “You traded your skill with your right hand?” 

“It’s the sort of wonderful thing that happens when you get claimed — not that you will know anything about that.”

Now Percy was pissed. He’d been trying to make an ally at least, and Ethan kept acting like he was better than him. “Ethan, I learned my dad is a god a little over a week ago, and then my mom died. I had no weapons. Even if I had a weapon, I wouldn’t know how to use it. Please stop judging me by our first interaction, where, by the way, I carried my friend to safety without help. You owe me a chance, at the very least.” 

Ethan had the decency to look sorry, “I guess we can be friends.” 

He returned to his lettering.

The two sat in silence in the mostly empty cabin, until Ethan finally spoke again. “I had hoped you would know something about what’s going on.” Percy stayed silent. “I can sense that there’s some disturbance in the balance of everything,” He waved his hands in the air, indicating the nebulous concept of ‘everything’. “And Chiron and Mr. D have been on edge. Something is going to give, and I just want to know what it is before someone gets hurt!” 

Ethan’s hands shook when he tried to continue writing. Percy reached into his bag and then hopped up onto Ethan’s bed.

“Do you know how to play poker?” When Ethan shook his head, he grinned, “let’s play some rounds, then. Since we’re friends, I’ll even warn you: I cheat.”

Percy beat Ethan every round except the last one, during which Ethan scowled at Percy before dealing and then loudly prayed, “Nemesis, Goddess of Divine Retribution, either this player has had unwarranted good luck, or he has cheated, both deserving punishments. Give him a two of spades, and a seven of hearts.” Ethan then refused to let him fold and smugly put down his cards which weren’t great, but were better than Percy’s terrible hand. 

“Cheating is supposed to be subtle, Ethan! you can’t just call upon your parent for aid.” 

“It worked.” 

Percy fought back laughter as he swore he would turn Ethan’s mother against him. One good interaction didn’t mean they were friends, but it was good to have an ally. 

Making friends with Ethan made everything in the Hermes cabin easier. Ethan introduced Percy to their cabin-mates. There was Lou Ellen Blackstone, who had given Percy his spot on the floor. She was bubbly and cheerful, which brought down Percy's hackles.

“People are normally put on edge by me,” she confided. “Child of Hecate thing.”

Then there was Marceline “Marcy” Vasseur and Lynx Vasseur, twin children of Tyche, who told Percy that maybe Tyche could be his parent. Apparently, gods could have kids regardless of gender and shift gender as they pleased. Percy agreed readily, that would be a way of explaining his skill at everything; Luck. Marcy and Lynx wouldn’t be bad siblings. Marcy was cool and as for Lynx, it was awesome as well. And they were both punks which Percy thought was incredible. There was BF Kerbial, who told Percy his initials were short for “Boyfriend,” and was a son of Psyche. Thomas Ghost was a child of Apollo but hadn’t done anything good enough to be claimed. Ali Gates was a child of Demeter but unclaimed as well. Half the kids in the cabin seemed to know their parents but were still unclaimed, even when their parents had cabins. Another handful was claimed as kids of minor gods because no one cares about you if your parent doesn’t have a throne. That was thrown around a lot. Apparently, no one knew if Hades had kids because he’d sworn his children wouldn’t set foot in the camp until he had a cabin, but, despite the fact he was one of the big three, the other gods had refused.

“Throne or thrown,” Alabaster had explained, a practiced phrase. “Hey, just think of the Hermes cabin as one big family… plus a random counselor who’d rather be away from the reject cabin.” Percy hadn’t seen him walk up but he leaned against the doorframe, doing what seemed to be his best at not scowling. “It’s time for our cabin meeting.”

The Hermes Cabin had one night a week it was free from temporary counselors, the night of the game. Alabaster took charge of the meeting, pulling out a chart that read ‘Rankings’ from somewhere inside the wall and writing Beckendorf’s name on it. 

“Okay, what did we think, team?” He asked, almost disinterestedly. “How was the latest guy they sent in because they don’t trust us?” 

Percy hadn’t thought of the temporary counselor position like that, he had just assumed it made sense. He remembered that Alabaster was 19, a full four years older than Beckendorf, and had been at camp a year longer. Was it fair that he wasn’t a counselor? 

“I’d give him a four out of five,” called Ali, “He made me this cool toy ox.” 

“Four out of five going once, going twice, sold.” Alabaster intoned dryly, drawing four stars next to Beckendorf's name. “And I heard someone’s parent finally stepped up her game?” 

Ethan smiled at Alabaster, pride etched in his every feature. “Yup, I’m claimed now.” 

Alabaster pulled out yet another chart from inside the wall, Percy wasn't sure how that even worked.  This chart read ‘Parents.’ Next to Ethan’s name was ‘Nemesis?’ Alabaster let Ethan come forwards to erase the question mark. “Congrats, you’re officially stuck here forever.” 

Ethan deflated, staring at the board filled with question marks. He didn’t sound like he meant it when he said, “Well, at least I’m in good company.”

Percy got to add his name to the board, a single question mark going next to ‘Percy Jackson.’ 

They ran through Cabin affairs. Percy hadn’t guessed the Hermes cabin was run so well, Alabaster reading through the minutes with careless ease. Then, Emelina Right, child of Hypnos, raised their hand. 

“I’ve been having dreams.” 

Alabaster motioned next to him, and Emelina walked up, along with Butch Walker, a possible child of Iris, and took a breath. “As most of you know, my dreams tend to be more informative than others’, and the last week I’ve been dreaming of the gods.”

That got people’s attention. Percy felt his heart pick up as everyone started to look more anxious. 

“I saw a horse and an eagle fighting on a beach, waves rolling and thunder crashing,” as Emelina described the scene, Butch waved his hands, and Percy could see it. The lighting clapped and the ground rumbled. “Then, the ground split open.” Percy stepped back as he saw the sand fall, even though he knew it wasn’t real. “The brothers are fighting over something.” Emelina finished her description and thudded down on the empty bunk. “But I don’t know what or why.” 

The meeting ended when Chiron’s hooves could be heard clomping up to the door, startling everyone from contemplation.

“Arming for Capture the Flag will begin in five minutes!”  

The excitement for Capture the Flag was thick in the air. The Zeus and Poseidon Cabins had unprecedentedly decided to join together under the Zeus cabin’s command, though none of the kids were particularly strong the eighteen of them combined made up almost a quarter of the camp, which made them a formidable opponent. The Athena and Hephestus Cabins had joined the blue team too, along with Ares, leaving the Hermes, Demeter, Apollo, Aphrodite, and Dionysus Cabins as the red team, with the Apollo cabin leading. 

The combination of Athena and Hephestus campers meant that the blue team would have traps and a plan of attack, with the Hephestus kids doing double time to push all the paperwork through for their inventions. The Ares kids would be formidable. They were strong, even if there were only five of them. Away from the river, the six Poseidon kids wouldn’t have any powers to use so they hopefully wouldn’t be as big of a deal. 

The red team had the Aphrodite kids, who weren’t powerful but matched the Zeus cabin in size. Half of the Demeter kids would be their defense, working with Dionysus’ twins to trip up anyone coming near their flag, with an Apollo kid, Jibri Dlamini, ready to shoot at any Zeus kids who flew by. That left the Hermes cabin and the rest of Apollo’s cabin minus the oracle, who was more like an honorary Apollo cabin member anyway, as the offense. 

Beckendorf had rejoined the Hephestus cabin for Capture the Flag, leaving Alabaster as the de facto leader of the Hermes cabin. Technically Lee Fletcher of the Apollo cabin was the leader of everyone, but Percy had noticed that the Hermes cabin didn’t tend to listen to anyone who wasn’t part of it. Alabaster was tall and pale with purple-blue eyes like Lou Ellen and brown hair, but what stuck out was the scar that ran from his hairline down his neck, branching off and spreading. Like Lou Ellen, he left Percy with the feeling he wasn’t quite right, but while Lou Ellen counterbalanced her aura by being bubbly and helpful, Alabaster leaned into it. Percy had been told snippets of Alabaster’s story. He was claimed by Hecate at age 15 and sent on a quest to steal an apple for the gods. He had succeeded but flown into a rage when the gods refused to build his mother a cabin. The gods had locked his magic so he couldn’t use it and had forbidden him from going on any more quests. Zeus gave him his scar by sending lightning down Alabaster’s face as a reminder to campers of what would happen if they made the wrong choice.

After hearing that part, Percy couldn’t help but wonder if it really was the wrong choice when everyone had to exist under harsh and unfair rules. 

Though the Hermes kids were supposed to be following the Apollo offense a good half of them were just hanging out. Percy was going in with Ethan and Lou Ellen, Alabaster leading the way to search for the flag. As Percy tromped along behind Alabaster in his too-big armor, he kept looking at the arcs of the scar down Alabaster’s neck, wondering if he’d really deserved it. 

They made it to the blue team’s side, and Percy was having a fun time laughing with Ethan and Lou Ellen. It was nice to feel like he finally had friends and fit in. Back at school, Grover had been his first real friend. Everyone else had steered clear unless they needed something. Alabaster wasn’t too happy about their noise, but Percy didn’t see the problem — they probably didn’t stand a chance anyway. 

He was surprised, then, when Alabaster led them directly to where the flag was hidden, as if by magic. 

Perhaps that was a bad choice of words, considering how Alabaster had had his magic blocked. 

The four of them surveyed the scene. A Zeus kid, Lily, was flying around the tree where Percy could see the flag bearing the lightning bolt, and one of the Ares kids who’d “initiated” Percy into the camp paced around the base. 

“On my mark, Ethan and Lou Ellen run forwards to engage Barett, and Percy climbs the tree to pass the flag down. Once I have the flag I’ll race back to our side.” Percy tried not to let it sting that he was the one left out of the combat — he knew he wasn’t good at sword fighting, none of the blades even felt right — but did everyone else have to know it? Also, he was good enough at running that it seemed unfair he wasn’t the one running back to the red team. “Go!” Alabaster shouted, and Percy ran for the tree, following his friends. 

He focused on the tree as the sounds of fighting broke out, hoping that his teammates would be good enough. Lou Ellen fought with two daggers that looked more ceremonial than useful, but it was clear she could get the job done with them. And Ethan, well, Percy didn’t doubt his friend. He put the clanging below him out of his mind as he did his best to race up the tree. Where was Lily? Shouldn’t she be stopping him? 

He reached the branch with the stormy gray flag emblazoned with a lightning bolt and looked for Alabaster to toss it to. He also scanned for Lily. He knew he’d seen her. 

There! Alabaster stood near the edge of the forest. Percy balled up the flag to toss and then saw another Alabaster running from Lily. What was going on? He didn’t have time to think, as Barett disarmed Lou Ellen. Percy tossed the flag towards where Alabaster was standing.

Lily had doubled back and sent a wind gust, blowing the flag out of its path. It landed between Ethan and Alabaster, Ethan’s swordsmanship becoming more and more frantic, his celestial bronze blade moving clunkily. Percy wondered what Ethan’s skills were like before Nemesis took them. He climbed down from the tree to try to help in his teammates' effort, but it seemed Alabaster had it handled. Alabaster did something and the flag vanished, reappearing suspended in the air. Lily darted for it and Alabaster lunged for where the flag had been and took off running. Percy and Lou Ellen followed behind, doing their best to guard him. 

A few Apollo kids ran around them to cover their path, and Alabaster ran into friendly territory, the flag shifting to yellow with a sun in the center. Percy could hear some grumbling on the other side.

“How did you do that, Alabaster?” Lily flew down. Some of her blond hair had escaped from her ponytail, and she pushed it back as she glared at him. “You can’t use magic.” 

“I have my cards,” Alabaster said in a practiced rhythm, pulling out a deck that Percy hadn’t seen before. “They don’t take any magic to activate.” Percy could tell Alabaster was holding something back as he rubbed his thumb on the top card, but then a hellhound emerged from the woods. 

It was the size of a rhino, with lava-red eyes and fangs like Lou Ellen’s daggers. And it was looking straight at one of the younger kids. 

Penelope was a daughter of Poseidon, she was white and had the same dark messy hair and sea-green eyes the Poseidon kids all had. She was the youngest kid at camp at seven years old, and right now she was standing six yards from everyone else except the hellhound. She must have wandered over to look at the pool in the stream. 

The hellhound licked its lips, a wet sound that seemed to echo across the clearing. Then, it jumped.

Percy didn’t need to consider his options, he knew that Penelope’s dagger would do nothing against the beast fifty times her size. 

He let the thread unspool.

Everything seemed to slow down, the Apollo kids drawing their bows in slow motion while the hellhound’s head crept towards Penelope. Percy ran and snatched her, putting her down on the other end of the clearing. The world returned to its normal pace, but now everyone but the archers was staring at Percy. 

The hellhound vanished in a cloud of golden dust as the archers let loose their bolts, and Percy could feel something pushing on his shoulder blades. As he doubled over Ethan yelled, “Percy, look up!” In glowing yellow above him was a caduceus that matched the one hanging above Cabin Eleven’s door. 

“It is determined,” Chiron announced. Everyone’s murmuring grew louder, and Percy felt something ripping through the back of his shirt. In his peripheral vision, he could see two white feathery wings now protruding from his shoulder blades. 

Alabaster’s whisper cut through the murmurs, even despite the fact he seemed to only be talking to himself. “This will be interesting.”

Chapter Text

Percy had no choice about going to talk to the oracle. 

Well, he had a choice, but it wasn’t a good one. Under the storm clouds sent from Zeus because of Percy’s birth on the fourth day after his claiming, Mr. D had called him into the big house and offered the ultimatum, cheetah or oracle. He wouldn’t even be allowed to know any details until he got the prophecy. He had had only a week of normalcy at camp before everyone found out about his dad and realized he couldn’t be trusted, just like in the real world when people kept an eye on him for mischief or crime. At least Emelina had given him the knowledge it had something to do with the big three.

Percy had spent three days receiving glares, listening to arguments about if he should be the Hermes cabin counselor, and figuring out how his wings worked. The last part was the hardest, at least he was used to the glares brought by hanging out with Ethan, a child of revenge. 

The Zeus kids made flying look so easy, but Percy’s desperate tumbles head over heels while three feet off the ground told a different story. Ethan hadn’t been much help, doubled over laughing at him as Percy spun through the air, while Grover yelled at Percy to “do a better flip!” Luckily he had figured out how to make the wings disappear, just needing to exert a bit of mental energy to make them vanish. Despite his annoyance at Hermes for getting him in trouble, he did appreciate that all his shirts had slits in the back that appeared and vanished as necessary– he didn’t have unlimited funds for shirts. 

He’d seen the oracle around camp. Lorie was a mortal with blond hair and washed-out grey eyes. She looked fifteen, but apparently, she was closer to thirty, Apollo’s magic keeping her body in the condition it was in when she accepted her pledge to speak prophecy to demigods. She technically was in the Apollo cabin, but most of the time she stayed in her cave, weaving odd tapestries full of knots and burns. 

Alabaster had explained her non-prophecy speech, “Half the time it is kind of important but the other half the time it’s just paranoia or something she made up that she mistakes for prophecy.” Percy hoped he would know what a prophecy looked like when Lorie told it to him.

He walked to the oracle’s cave, feeling the wet grass squelch under his feet. Everywhere was soaked due to the rain that kept pouring down, signaling Zeus’ displeasure. The front of the cave had two large tapestries hanging in front of it, one a beautifully rendered image of the Apollo table at dinner, orange shirts, and laughing faces. The other was the same table but barren. Percy could make out every chip in the stone table when he looked at the woven hanging. He wasn’t sure if he should knock on the drapes, but before he got his bearings, Lorie called to him. “Hey Percy, come for a prophecy? Just step inside, I promise I don’t bite.”

Lorie had the grace of someone much older than she looked as she poured two cups of tea and set them on the low wooden table. The inside of the cave was covered in beautiful tapestries, depicting battles and celebrations and stories spanning years. Across the room, next to the curtain that Percy assumed blocked off her bedroom, Percy could see a half-woven tapestry taking form. It was the top half of the caduceus that had appeared over his head at his claiming. 

“The means of the oracle tends to be unnerving,” Lorie said, dusting some invisible particles off of her sweater. “So I made some tea to prepare you.” 

The tea was good, chamomile with some cinnamon mixed in, but Percy did not feel prepared when Lorie’s eyes began to glow and she spoke in a much more ancient voice, “I am the spirit of Delphi, speaker of the prophecies of Phoebus Apollo, slayer of the mighty Python. Approach, seeker, and ask.”

Somehow, he managed to ask “what is my destiny?” 

As the cave’s temperature dropped, green mist poured out of Lorie’s mouth like a thousand green pythons that were about to eat Percy. He started to scramble backward, to leave this place, but he couldn’t. The mist condensed like one of the illusions Butch used for pranks. But instead of a cat or spider, Percy’s mother was standing in front of him. She looked the same way she had before she died, hair loosely pulled back, one eyebrow quirked at something Percy had done, a smile giving her amusement away. But when she spoke it was the raspy, ancient voice. 

“What you seek will be made yours,” his mother intoned raspily, “Secrets found behind locked doors.” That sounded promising at least. “Inside the home, a traitor will lay.” Percy wanted to turn and leave but he knew there was more. The puppet of Sally Jackson twisted its face, her smile contorting to the face of pain she had worn when the minotaur destroyed her. “Win the battle, lose the day.” The green serpent slithered back into Lorie’s mouth, and warmth returned to the air. 

Warmth didn’t return to Percy though. The first line seemed good, he would find whatever he was looking for, probably behind a locked door if the second line was to be believed. The last two lines, though. A traitor didn’t sound good, and though winning the battle was the desired outcome, he had a feeling the ‘day’ in the prophecy wasn’t just referring to him getting distracted and losing a day by not doing anything.

What exactly did the oracle say?” Chiron was sitting with Mr. D around the table on the porch of the big house. 

Percy took a breath, “She said ‘What you seek will be made yours, secrets found behind locked doors.” He elected not to share the last couplet. 

Chiron looked like he knew what Percy was hiding, but Pollux ran up to the porch to ask his dad to sort out an issue in the strawberry fields, so he was interrupted before he could press further. As Dionysus strolled to where several campers were holding umbrellas over the plants Chiron returned his attention to Percy. 

“Poseidon and Zeus are having their worst quarrel in centuries. They are fighting over something valuable that was stolen. To be precise: a lightning bolt.” Percy nodded. That fit with what Emelina had told the cabin. “They believe you took it.”

Before Percy opened his mouth to protest, Chiron put his hand up. “Be careful you don’t say anything rash, Percy, you are the natural suspect. Hermes, the god of thieves, has a demigod who shows up at camp after the biggest theft of the century? The optics are terrible.” 

Optics? Percy was suffering because of optics? “That’s bullshit. I didn’t even know about the gods two weeks ago.” 

“I know, but Zeus stands firm that you must have helped Poseidon in a gamble to dethrone him. The solution for you to clear your name is to undertake a quest, which you already agreed to.” Percy had agreed, hadn’t he? Then again, it was under duress. 

“Where do I even go?” 

“I will tell you that once you have companions.” 

Percy blinked, “companions?” 

“Yes, it is traditional that quests have three members, and your friends have already volunteered. Come inside.”

Percy hadn’t been in the big house since he was infirm, the wooden building creaked and groaned under the rain as Chiron led him to where Ethan and Grover sat on the couch. Grover was nervously chewing on a tin can while Ethan’s hands were still. 

“You three must travel to Hades’ realm, where I expect, along with the bolt, your mother is being kept alive.”

Percy’s ears seemed to be made out of rubber and began to ring, high pitched and clear as a scream. His throat felt tight. “What?”

“Mortals do not disappear in flashes of light when they die,” Chiron explained, as though this was something Percy should have known. 

Percy collapsed onto the couch. He had spent all this time mourning for his mother only to be told that not only was she alive, but that fact had been kept hidden from him?  

“Do we need to go to the underworld?” Grover asked, biting the tin can with tiny nibbles. “Why can’t we go somewhere more, I don’t know, pleasant. What about Maine? Maine is nice! Maybe the master bolt is in Maine.”

Percy wanted to argue with the fact that Ethan and Grover were coming along on a quest to literal hell, but he was selfish. He wanted his friends with him. He just asked, “are you guys sure?”

Grover looked like the answer was no, but he proclaimed, “I need this for my searcher’s license anyway.” at the same time that Ethan nodded in affirmation. 

“You owe me for this one,” Ethan smiled at Percy, “or maybe I owe you? I’ve wanted to go on a quest for a long time.” he rubbed the four beads on his necklace. 

“Hades has hidden the bolt in his realm to start a war between the gods, you three must retrieve it before the summer solstice, June 21st, or we face world war three. That’s six days.” With that cheery note, Chiron gave Percy a backpack. “‘No time to waste, I think you should all get packing. The trip to LA is a long one, and with Zeus prepared to strike Percy down if he flies in a plane, you’ll have to travel over land.”

Percy and Ethan packed their bags in nervous silence. Percy couldn’t understand why Ethan decided to come. He didn’t have to come on this quest, and unlike Grover, he didn’t stand to gain anything from it. So why was Ethan risking his life for Percy?

The backpack Chiron had given them had a hundred dollars in moral money and ten obols. An obol was an ancient Greek form of currency, a silver coin. Six obols made one gold drachma, and they were each worth the equivalent of ten dollars or so, according to Ethan. Percy thought they were the coolest coins he’d ever seen. There was also a first aid kit, and, for bigger injuries, ambrosia and nectar. And, of course, enough crackers and dried fruit to last them a week.

Percy, Ethan, and Grover met Chiron on top of the hill. 

“Usually Argus, the camp head of security would drive you, but due to how Hermes killed him, he doesn’t want to drive a child of Hermes,” Chiron said, smiling as though what he was saying was reasonable and fine. “Besides, as a child of Hermes, I’m sure Percy can figure out some transportation.” As Chiron turned to go he paused, then reached into his pocket. “Percy, I’ve had this blade for a long time, and I’ve tried to bestow it to many campers, but it has never accepted them. When you stole it, it seemed to decide it was yours.” he pulled out the pen sword that had haunted Percy. 

“Thanks.” Percy didn’t really mean it, the blade wasn’t balanced right for him and he had just been told to figure out his own way to Los Angeles without any help, but he supposed a bad sword was better than nothing.

“The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into,” Chiron told Percy. “Its name is Anaklusmos.”

“Riptide”

“I thought it was meant for a child of Poseidon, but perhaps it was just waiting for a hero great enough to use it. Use it only for emergencies, and only against monsters. No hero should harm mortals unless absolutely necessary, of course, but this sword wouldn’t harm them in any case.”

Percy uncapped the pen and awkwardly held the sword, “What do you mean it wouldn’t harm mortals? How could it not?”

“The sword is celestial bronze. Forged by the Cyclopes, tempered in the heart of Mount Etna, cooled in the River Lethe. It’s deadly to monsters, to any creature from the Underworld, provided they don’t kill you first. But the blade will pass through mortals like an illusion. They simply are not important enough for the blade to kill. And I should warn you: as a demigod, you can be killed by either celestial or normal weapons. You are twice as vulnerable.” Chiron galloped down the hill. Percy could see Alabaster hurrying from the bottom. 

“Just wanted to wish you both well,” Alabaster said when he reached the top of the hill, looking at Percy and Ethan. “Hope your quest turns out well.” It looked painful to say that, probably due to how Alabaster’s quest had ended. Alabaster patted Percy and Ethan on the backs, pressing hard, before heading down the hill, back to camp. 

And just like that, Percy, Ethan, and Grover were hitchhiking away from camp and towards the nearest bus.

The rides were… interesting. Standing in the rain, waiting for them led to the trio looking more like wet cats than nice, normal, human children. The first car that stopped to pick them up was a truck, its bed piled high with crates of food. The three of them hopped in the back after the driver explained he would bring them to the second town over. They sat amongst the crates, bumping their way through the road. They rode in silence at first, before Percy broke it, asking what he had wanted to at camp but had saved till now because it was too late to turn back.

“Why did you volunteer to come, Ethan?” Percy asked. He knew why he’d come on the Quest. Not for Hermes, who’d never so much as stopped by for a visit, but for his mother. He would get her back, even if it meant razing the world. He knew why Grover had come, because he needed a searcher’s license and because he wanted to protect Percy. But Ethan didn’t need this danger. He didn’t need Percy. 

“I’ve wanted a quest for a long time, I told you in the Big House.” 

“But this is dangerous! You could get a normal quest, one that isn’t to the underworld!” Percy did his best not to shout. 

Ethan was quieter when he said, “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. If I go I can make sure everything is okay and under control. And we’re friends. Of course I’ll come.”

Grover looked nervous, though Percy wasn’t sure why. 

“Thank you.” was all Percy said before they lapsed into silence once again, rain pouring down on them.

“Did your mom lie?” Grover asked hurriedly, as though the moment of silence had been unbearable.

“About my dad?” Percy knew she had lied, probably because she had known who his father was, but he didn’t know how or what she knew. 

“Yeah,” Ethan leaned forwards as Grover responded, clearly interested in hearing Percy’s answer as well.

“I think she wanted to keep me safe.” 

The second driver took them to the outer edge of Manhattan, the place where Percy had grown up. The streets were the same, same laughing kids and arguing adults and languages drifting high above everything. It looked different, though, after having spent time at camp half-blood. Fast food places seemed like something from another century after having spent over a week seeing sword fights and being served by wood nymphs and spirits. Cars pumped exhaust into the air while Ethan, Grover, and Percy waited at the stop for the bus that would take them to LA. With their backpacks and camp shirts, they looked like any other kids headed off to summer camp, not three children going to hell. 

The bus arrived and Grover began sniffing the air, “it smells kind of weird,” he began. “It could be nothing though.” 

“What do you mean, weird?” Ethan’s every feature was locked down, his demeanor tightened. 

“It kind of smells like there might be monsters.”

“Monsters?” Percy asked.

“It’s probably nothing,” Grover looked over his shoulder like someone was going to attack him at any moment. “Don’t worry about it.”

They got on the bus, but Ethan shook his head when it came time to stow their bags, “it’s always good to be able to run at any moment.” Percy agreed, something didn’t feel right.

Sure enough, at the next stop, three old women with leathery bat wings boarded. Grover shredded a tin can with his teeth like a chipmunk while Ethan began breathing faster. They wore sweaters and skirts, with handbags clutched in their laps as they sat down at the front of the bus, crossing their legs over the aisle.

The message was clear, if Percy and his friends wanted to leave the bus they would have to fight their way out.

“What’s the plan?” Ethan whispered to Percy. Pure befuddlement coursed through Percy’s veins, mixed with panic. 

Percy hissed back, “I don’t have a plan! What do you have as a plan?” 

“You’re the leader!”

“Well, you have four years of experience over me!” Their voices got progressively louder as they sniped back and forth, neither of them knowing what to do. They were cut off by Grover shoving their shoulders and pointing.

The first old lady got up and said, “I have to go to the bathroom,” before walking towards the back.

The second old lady got up and said, “I have to go to the bathroom,” before walking towards the back.

The third old lady got up and said, “I have to go to the bathroom,” before walking towards the back.

Their handbags morphed into fiery whips, their teeth elongating and skin peeling off until they were covered simply in feathers. One of them had black feathers, the next pure white, and the third a mix of both. Their hands mangled and twisted into claws, long and sharp and twisted. Ethan stuck his tongue out of the corner of his mouth as he thought. 

“Percy, can you fight? Or help save Grover? Or do something ?.” 

Percy didn’t have time to argue as Ethan pushed him, he grabbed Grover’s hand and ran. He tried to tug on his string and found it unrolling far too fast, as though it had been impatient for this. He crashed into the driver who promptly fell out of his seat.

It wasn’t like he and Grover could run out of a moving bus with Ethan still in it, and especially couldn’t leave him on a driverless bus, so Percy did the logical thing.

He sat down in the driver’s seat and put his hands on the wheel. They were on the interstate but he could see a tunnel. Standing with one foot on the gas Percy cursed his height, while Grover’s stare burned a hole in the back of his head. He could hear Ethan’s blade and yells, an eerie mirror to capture the flag, but he kept driving. Somehow, he knew what to do. 

“Grover,” Percy called, “take the sword!”

He threw the ballpoint pen behind him and heard Riptide expand as Grover ran back to where Ethan was probably losing a fight against three demons. Percy just kept driving as fast as he could, skidding around cars until he saw an exit. They raced off of the highway, emerging on a dirt road somewhere in New Jersey. With the Hudson River on one side, the woods on the other, and an infinite stretch of road ahead of him, Percy made a choice. 

“Everyone,” he yelled, hopefully not distracting his friends, “we’re making a pit stop!”

He slammed on the brakes, turning the wheel to the right, the bus careening into the woods a fifty-minute drive from New York City. As he’d hoped, he heard one of the demon’s dying screams, followed by another. That left Ethan and Grover against the last one. 

“Okay, let’s go outside!” Percy ran past the exiting passengers to the demon. She turned to him. 

“Perseus Jackson,” she began, forked tongue sticking out of her mouth to taste the air where he stood. “You will pay for your theft.” she lunged. 

Percy punched forwards as she flicked her whip, the burning flames lashing around his hand. It was agony. He kicked her in the chest and she stumbled back for a second, which was enough for Ethan to stab her from behind. 

Percy, Ethan, and Grover walked out of the bus and took in the situation.

It was wet, it was raining, and they were far from Los Angeles. No cars came down the road, probably knowing better than to drive in the storm, which had picked up. Percy had considered trying to fly to see if he could find civilization, but the winds buffeted him so much that he had to stop.

So they walked, and walked, and walked. 

Grover tried unsuccessfully to play a song on his reed pipes to find a path, eventually giving up and mumbling to himself, “I wish Pan was here.”

Ethan fell in line next to Percy, “You owe me for not helping with the Furies.”

“Furies?”

“They’re Hades’ minions, they torture the dead in the field of punishment. I can’t figure out why they were here, though. Why is Hades mad at you for stealing Zeus ’ master bolt?” Percy wanted to argue about the fact Ethan said he hadn’t done anything to fight the Furies which wasn’t true, but first he had to address his supposed crime. 

“I didn’t steal it though!” 

“That doesn’t matter, what matters is that our friend downstairs is either on the side of the big guy in the sky, or there are more pieces to this than I thought.”

“Ethan, this isn’t some puzzle game, this is real life!”

“I know,” Ethan furrowed his brow at Percy as though Percy’s assertion was ridiculous. “But we can’t exactly go on a quest and not know what we’re doing.” They lapsed into silence again.

They walked.

“What’s with the whole, owing thing?” Percy asked after a few more minutes in silence. 

Ethan shrugged, “how much do you know about swearing on the River Styx?”

“Not much.” Percy had heard it tossed around, but beyond that, he knew nothing.

“It’s the most serious promise someone in the godly world can make. If you break it, Lady Styx comes after you and makes you drink from her waters. For gods, it blinds and deafens them for a year and they have to wander the earth like that. Then they’re forbidden from interacting with other gods or demigods for nine years.”

“That seems harsh,” Percy said, trying to crack a joke.

“If you swear on the River Styx it means the fates are watching. For demigods, the punishment for breaking one of those oaths is the same. For a year it blinds and deafens your godly sight, your ability to see through the Mist. It basically makes you mortal.” 

“It seems like some demigods would want that,” Percy wanted that. He wanted his mom back and this all to be over.

Ethan shook his head. “Then, they go nine years while forbidden to interact with the godly world. Monsters can hunt you but you can’t even pick up weapons that will be able to kill them. It’s basically a death sentence.” 

“Oh,” Percy had just been thrust into the world of gods and monsters but he couldn’t imagine living in it without help. 

Ethan looked like he was going to say something else, but they all saw the glowing neon sign and smelled food. It wasn’t the healthy food they’d been served at camp, fruit and animals all prepared to be as good for growing heroes as possible, this was greasy fast food. French fries and onion rings and burgers. 

There was no way just stopping in for some food could go wrong.

Chapter Text

The trio entered Em’s Garden Emporium. As it turned out, Em was a kind woman who Percy would guess was middle-aged? Well, he would guess if not for the fact guessing someone’s age is weird. She was an artist, all around them he could see her creations, beautiful gnomes, and such. Em was wearing a respirator mask “because of paint fumes,” that she hadn’t taken off even when talking to Percy, aviators that seemed to swallow her face, and a huge scarf even though it was indoors in the summer. Her hair was pulled back under a green beanie. Her hands were manicured and had paint specks all over them.

 “Who are you three?” she asked, tilting her head at them.

Percy butted in before Ethan or Grover could say anything. “We were hiking with our camp and somehow got lost. I don’t know how- Tim does so many head counts. Our parents are probably pissed. They had so many worries sending us off to camp and they’ve been calling daily.” he shook his head, doing his best to appear like a scared kid. It wasn’t hard. “Honestly, there will probably be a countywide manhunt, or at least an amber alert.” Percy hoped the others would play along. The last thing they wanted was a stranger who knew they didn’t have anyone to look for them.

“Oh, you poor dears,” Em sounded sincerely sorry. “You must come and sit down while I make you something to eat.”

The allure of food was something none of them could resist. Ethan, Percy, and Grover sat around a wooden table carved with snakes.

“I carved it myself, you know.” Em bragged as she walked to the kitchen. “Do any of you have dietary restrictions? I only have vegetarian options.”

Grover looked like he had just won the lottery. “That’s great! It’s so hard to find places that make good vegetarian foods. Too many places just do ‘meat-alikes’ instead of just focusing on making food that tastes good as itself.”

Em smiled at him, “You sound like my girlfriend, June.” She said it as though daring them to say something. “So, what do the three of you want? I can make almost anything. I’ve been cooking for a very long time.”

“Enchiladas?” Grover tentatively asked. When Em nodded, he grinned. “This is the best day ever.”

“I’ll take a burger?” Percy wasn’t sure what she had, but hopefully, it would be good. “Maybe even a shake.”

Em laughed, “I ‘m not going to give a child a milkshake at this time of night. You need to rest up so I can bring you back to your camp. Maybe I’ll even throw in a statue.” as she gestured, Percy suddenly saw the whole building.

The statues were creepy, they looked a bit too much like they were staring at him, but that might have just been his worried brain. The detail was impeccable. Everyone was captured down to the smallest detail, pores and all. Most statues were of adults or fantastical creatures, though Percy did see a few kids his age here and there. One was holding a sword that looked like it came straight from a gladiator fight, his face a mix of fear and anger.

“Those expressions are so evocative,” Ethan said, motioning to a cluster in the right corner of the room. There was a satyr with his cheeks puffed out, blowing a set of pipes in front of two boys who were nearly identical besides the fact that one was taller than the other.

“Thank you,” Em seemed pleased at the compliment, but she moved the conversation back to them. “So, what are your favorite colors? Tell me while I go and cook.”

Grover and Em traded vegetarian favorite foods while Percy stared at the table, thinking about his mom. She would have liked Em. Em reminded him of all the ladies in the apartment building he used to live in. The women who his mom still visited, and protested with. Ethan seemed lost in thought as he looked around the room, returning to his staring at the same corner again and again.

“Those guys kind of look like you,” he whispered to Percy. Percy looked in the corner again, following Ethan’s gaze. The statues did have the same upturned nose as him and had an air of mischief.

“Food is ready!” Em called, carrying over a large tray. “This enchilada is for you,” she paused as she handed the enchilada to Grover. “I don’t think I got any of your names?”

“I’m Grover, this is Ethan and Percy.” Percy winced as Grover gave out their real names, but Em seemed nice enough, and the food smelled divine. Em’s expression shifted when Grover said Percy’s name.

“Oh… Percy? That sounds familiar,” the laugh she gave was forced, but Percy didn’t care as he dug into the burger. It was surprisingly good. “Is it short for anything?”

Percy’s inhibitions tried to kick in, but the food was good and he felt tired. “It’s short for Perseus.”

“Want to hear a story?” Percy didn’t miss the anger in Em’s voice. Had he done something wrong?

“Of course!” Grover probably would have agreed to do anything for Em after trading vegetarian stories, Percy thought.

“A long time ago, when I was young, I fell in love with a woman. But an evil woman was jealous of our love and hurt me. I ran off to be away from society, but she sent a boy to chase me down. A man, who was not involved at all, decided to give the boy who chased me ammunition to harm me and pull apart the life I had built with my sisters. That man was the wickedest of them all, besides Perseus.”

Percy felt like bolting straight up, but things seemed slower than usual. “Perseus?”

“He looked like you,” Em said. “Do you mind if I take a photo of you to show the similarities?”

Percy felt so tired his eyes began to droop. “Sure.” Ethan kicked him under the table. Grover had finished his enchiladas and started on the wax paper.

“What a nice picture it will be,” Em mused, holding her fingers in a box shape. “Grover, you can move off to the side, I just want to see the two of them.”

Ethan tensed, “where’s your camera?” Percy looked at Ethan and saw he had only eaten half his food.

“Don’t worry,” Em said as she reached her hands up to her beanie and aviators. “It will be over in a flash.” Her beanie began to writhe.

“Shit!” Ethan said, “you’re Medusa.”  

Em “You’re very perceptive for someone about to be killed, maybe I’ll spare you and the vegetarian. I’m only after the one whose father armed someone sent to kill me.”

“What?” Percy felt disappointment shoot through him. Yet again he was being punished for who his father was, for things he had no control over. Percy looked over at Ethan for advice. He remembered the myth of Perseus who slew Medusa while she slept… but Em wasn’t asleep.

“Percy, close your eyes! If you look at her face, you’ll become a statue.” Ethan ducked under the table. “Pull your weapon!”

“And you’re so polite, Ethan.” Medusa hissed, “most demigods say my ugliness will turn you to stone.”

 Percy pulled out Riptide. He wasn’t sure how much good it would do with his eyes closed. Ethan shouted from further away, “Percy, come towards me!” Percy stumbled into a counter before making his way to the door. He could hear Grover’s bleats of panic and clinking metal as he presumably searched the kitchen for a weapon.

He ran towards Ethan, sweeping his hand in front of him desperately. When Percy was sure Medusa was behind him, he cracked his eyelids. He could see trees. Maybe they could shelter in those woods, he could run fast. Ethan was facing him, his camp half-blood bandana pulled in front of his eyes. And there!

But he needed to help fight. He turned back towards Medusa, holding Riptide awkwardly. The blade seemed worse than even the ones at camp. He gave it a practice swing and, despite his training, almost cut his leg open.

Maybe he wasn’t needed in the fight. Ethan was capable, right? And he didn’t want to get in the way. Grover had probably gotten a knife, this made the most sense. Then, he heard snakes slithering towards him. He swung at the sound, and his sword flew out of his hand. Ethan let out a cry of pain.

Percy knew it was the wrong thing to do. He knew it was abandoning his friends. But he didn’t know how to deal with the fact he had failed and had hurt his friend.

Percy bolted to the woods, reaching for his power to make him go faster and faster until he was sure he was far enough away. He couldn’t keep the focus on his wings, letting them flap out behind him, feeling the wind across his feathers.

He ran and ran and ran, staring at the ground and refusing to look around, breathing hard. He felt the power slipping out of him somehow, as though the thread didn’t want to budge.

He looked up.

He was in the forest.

When Percy got back to Em’s place, it was sunset. Grover was waiting. Ethan was inside, but Grover said he didn’t want to talk to Percy. Percy felt terrible for having run away. He knew it was wrong but he didn’t think he could help. Medusa’s head lay under a coat. Percy’s wings were still out and he kept flapping them nervously, which meant the coat was being hit with gusts that Grover would then panic about. Percy gave up hovering near Medusa and flew around the emporium. On the other side was Ethan.

He landed.

“I’m sorry, Ethan.” Percy began before Ethan cut him off.

“I don’t care. I could have died and you would have abandoned me. You injured me,” Ethan pointed at a bandage on his shoulder from their first aid kid. “We can work together on this quest but we are not friends. I don’t think someone who only knows how to run away would want to challenge someone who knows how to use a sword.” Ethan had been leaning against the wall next to the door, but with that, he went inside. “How ‘bout you do something useful for once and see if she had anything worth taking.”

Percy didn’t feel great about stealing from Medusa, but she was also literally dead so it didn’t really matter. He and Ethan worked in silence, rummaging through doors and such. He found art supplies, including four cans of spray paint, black, white, green, and gold, that he slipped into his bag. Then, they went down the hallway to Medusa’s office.

The door was locked but for Percy that meant nothing, taking his lockpicks out of his bag. He could do it with his eyes closed, picturing the rods sliding into place. The door clicked open and Ethan pushed past Percy, still without talking to him. They found a sack of gold obols and drachmas, Medusa’s shipping records, the address for the underworld, and a box for delivery via Hermes Overnight Express. Grover entered the office too, holding what looked like a cookbook reading “Vegetarian Options for Monsters! 50+ New Ways to Enjoy Life While Abstaining From Demigod Flesh.” In his other hand was a black trash bag holding what Percy could only assume was Medusa’s head.

Grover shuddered as he looked around the office, “Let’s go back to the bigger part of the warehouse. This office gives me the creeps.”

They put the head in a box and closed it up before looking around Em’s warehouse. In the room that they had eaten in, Grover’s eyes kept darting to one corner. Percy looked too, and the statues in the corner that Grover was staring at drew him in.

“That one was my Uncle Ferdinand.” Grover gestured at the satyr blowing the pipes. “He died ten years before I was born, but my dad kept pictures of him around. Uncle Ferdinand just disappeared one day. Everyone thought he had left to find Pan. He’s a blackberry bush now.” Percy stared at the satyr standing protectively in front of the two boys. They both had camp necklaces with three beads on them.

“He was trying to protect those demigods,” Percy wasn’t sure how to support his friend. Ethan approached the two of them.

“How long do you think she’s been here?” Ethan had a way of saying questions when he’d been thinking about them for a while and was trying to pretend they had just occurred to him. Percy resisted the urge to remind Ethan that they weren’t on speaking terms, but he hoped Ethan had forgotten that fact.

“Who knows.”

Ethan stuck his tongue out the corner of his mouth as he took in the pair. “You know, they really do look like you.”

Oh. Percy understood what Ethan was saying. 

He looked back again. The boys had messy, curly hair, and even in terror, he could see their mischievous looks. They must have been from over thirty years ago, these siblings he would never know. He tried to picture them in color, all angles, and gangly limbs.

Grover stood there for a bit with Percy and Ethan, the three of them looking at the statues.  

Ethan broke the silence “I didn’t tell you I think they’re related to you because we’re friends. I told you because it was the right thing to do.”

Grover looked back and forth between Percy and Ethan nervously. “So, what do we want to do with the head?” he gestured at the black trash bag.

“We could take it with us?” Percy wasn’t thrilled at the idea, but it seemed like the best one.

“Or we could sacrifice it to the gods,” Ethan said, sounding like he was correcting a young child. Percy glared at him.

Grover took a bite out of the trash bag, “I think Ethan’s idea is good; We need the gods on our side.”

Percy flapped his wings in annoyance but agreed. “So who do we sacrifice it to, oh wise one?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Our parents and Ares, obviously. Though maybe not Hermes, now that I think about it. You just ran away.”

So, Percy put the head in the shipping box, and Ethan penned “To Nemesis and Ares, a token for your favor” in sparkly pink on the shipping label. He pretended not to notice when Ethan added a third name.

They slept outside.

It was miserable and wet. With much stumbling, Grover had led them to a camp spot out in the woods, a hundred meters from the main road, in a marshy clearing that local kids had obviously been using for parties. The ground was littered with flattened soda cans and fast-food wrappers.

They had taken some food that wasn’t drugged and blankets from Medusa’s but didn’t light a fire. They had had enough monsters for the day. Still, that meant they had to endure the cold and wet forest.

Percy was given the first watch by Ethan, who had gone to sleep nestled between roots, walls all around him. Grover sat with Percy, looking around the desolate clearing.

 “It makes me so sad,” Grover gestured around the littered clearing. “This is why we need to find Pan; He could fix this. It’s so much, and it isn’t just this here. Everywhere we’ve been, nature has been desecrated.” He gestured up at the sky, wisps of smoke flying across it from a factory. “You can’t even see the stars! Did you know that every constellation, every star, tells of something in our history?” Percy shook his head. “The gods can put those who they favor in the stars when they die to let them live forever, but now you can barely see any of them. If Pan isn’t found soon… I don’t know if there’ll be anything for him to fix. That’s why I plan to find him.”

Percy nodded, Grover had talked about wanting a searcher’s license. “So, your Uncle Ferdinand– back there– did he want to find Pan too?” Grover laughed, high and quick.

“Every Satyr’s dream is to find Pan. My father was a searcher and his father, and his before him. We kind of have to be.” He gestured around again at the plastic-filled clearing. “We’re creatures of the wild, even as the wild is being destroyed. It’s hopeless to try and fix all this by yourself, one satyr is like a fish in the ocean. But Pan…” he stared off into the distance. “Pan could fix this.”

Percy felt weird pushing, but he was curious. “Did your father give up?”

Grover shook his head, “No satyr has ever returned. We– they– get sent out and then disappear. I’ll find Pan though. I have to.”

Percy smiled at his friend. “I’m sure you will. Now, go to sleep.”  The lie left his tongue like a snake, coiling in his throat and blocking his airway. He wanted Grover to find Pan and complete his dream, but he didn’t want his friend to disappear.

“I’ll help you search,” he promised as Grover lay down

“Thanks, Perce”

Percy was nodding off when he heard Ethan gasp and sit up. He had noticed Ethan waking up each night at camp but hadn’t wanted to question him in front of their cabin mates. He went over to Ethan, flying a bit to avoid roots in the dark.

“You okay?” Ethan sighed at Percy’s question, and Percy was fairly sure Ethan rolled his eyes.

“I told you I don’t want to talk.” Ethan still sat up, curling around himself on the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees. “Just nightmares.”

Percy nodded, “I have nightmares of when my mother, well, didn’t die apparently, but vanished.” He tried to put some humor in his tone but couldn’t, a weight pressing on his chest.

Ethan took slow breaths that didn’t hide his shakiness. “My nightmares are a little different,” he quirked the right side of his mouth, the same place his tongue always stuck out when he was thinking.

Percy didn’t ask but sat in silence, inviting Ethan to talk, to open up, to forgive him.

“At least your nightmares aren’t sent by a goddess,” Ethan said it so quickly that Percy almost didn’t process it.

“What?!” Percy nearly shouted in the clearing, making a bird give a startled squawk and Grover turn over in his sleep, snuggling closer to the ground. “Is it the same god that you wrote the package to?”

Ethan bit his lips and shifted, “Lady Styx has appeared to me every night since I was a kid.”

“What does she say?” Percy leaned closer as Ethan squeezed his legs tighter. Ethan was about to open his mouth to respond when the bird that Percy had startled took flight.

“That kind of information is only for people who don’t owe me big for leaving.” Ethan got up, “You can sleep, I’ll take the second watch.”

“My mom used to say that no one owes you for your kindness, just like you don’t owe anyone,” Percy began. “But she said that you should still try to do good in the world, in spite of and because of the fact you don’t owe your kindness to anyone. If we don’t work to make the world a better place, who would?”

Ethan sat back down next to Percy, his body radiating cold. Percy debated leaning against him to give warmth but based on Ethan’s anger he opted to give Ethan his blanket instead.

“Kind of hard for me to escape the owing thing when every night I am reminded that someday I will make an oath I can’t keep, and Lady Styx will sweep my godliness away.” Ethan stood up again, Percy’s blanket over his shoulders. 

“I’m sorry,” Percy said softly, a whispered hope. He wanted Ethan to stay with him for another minute. “You don’t deserve that.”

“Did Medusa deserve to die?” Ethan didn’t turn to face Percy, instead just facing the forest, directing his question at any being who could hear him. “She had a girlfriend, a book on being vegetarian even. It seems like she only attacked us because of you.”

“You’re blaming me for the fact Medusa tried to kill us?” 

“I just asked if you thought she deserved to die.”

“How can anyone deserve to die? Even monsters have worth.” 

Ethan looked at Percy like he was crazy. “Most monsters don’t. All they care about is hurting others. Even human monsters can’t always be saved.”

“I don’t know if she deserved to die,” Percy didn’t want to think about it. “Goodnight, Ethan.” 

“Goodnight.”

Percy was tired but didn’t fall asleep for a while, just listening to Grover’s breathing and Ethan’s occasional footsteps.

The next morning there was a god in their camp.

Chapter Text

Percy felt full of rage as he woke up. He felt the same way he did when kids at school bullied others, pure rage that made him want to tear the world apart. It was the same rage he had felt when he found out someone stole his mother.

Grover and Ethan were standing next to Percy, looking at a man. He was sitting on a motorcycle in the middle of the clearing. He wore a trucker hat, sunglasses, and a t-shirt with an American flag.

“Ah, he finally wakes,” the man said, and Percy resisted the urge to throw himself at the man and rip him to shreds. He got up instead. “Took you long enough.” 

“Who is this guy?” Percy asked Grover. Ethan drew in a breath. “He seems like an asshole.”

Ethan stared at Percy and then back at the man, terrified, but the man just laughed, bellowing loud enough for the birds to all fly away.

“I’m Ares, God of war. You might have met my daughter, Clarisse.” Percy reached for his terrible sword and saw Ethan preparing to defend himself. “Whoa, whoa, I come in peace.” Percy slowly lowered his hand as Ethan fell to one knee. 

“Lord Ares, we are beyond grateful for your presence. May I ask what called you here?” 

Ares waved Ethan’s pleasantries away, “No need for that ‘Lord’ stuff. Flattery does nothing for me. I got your offering and figured you’re competent, so I should get you to go on a mini-quest for me.”

Ethan stood up, his face reddened by embarrassment, “A quest?” 

“It’s a mini-quest, it’s not important enough for me to do myself, so, I’ll send you all to it. It shouldn’t take long. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little… date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me. I’ll reward you all and even bring you where you need to go, which is especially kind of me considering you have a son of Hermes.” Percy wished he could attack a god. 

“Of course, Lor- Ares,” Ethan said.

“Wait, why should we do this?” Percy was not a fan of the idea, and he wasn’t a huge fan of Ethan in the light of day. “Can’t you just,” he spun his hands around in the air, “summon it?”

Ethan kicked him.

Ares pulled down his sunglasses until Percy could see straight into his eyes. Eye contact wasn’t Percy’s forté in general, but Ares’ eyes were full of fire and war, the feeling of fighting a battle and not caring who wins as long as you kill as many people as possible. “Watch it, kid, you have no money and no supplies.” He gestured to where their packs lay. 

The packs lit on fire and vanished. 

Ares smiled at Percy, “Why don’t I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don’t feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself, or do you only run away from battles?”

“We have our quest, and I’m not sure if we have ti–”

Ares laughed, sparks shooting out. “I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn’t sniff out a weapon that powerful, you got no hope. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can’t miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love, when you complete the quest I’ll give you guys your stuff back, maybe even some advice if I’m feeling nice. I’ll even bring you to the town where the water park is. Don’t push me more.”

Percy hated the feeling of being helpless, but Ares had offered them no choice.

“Of course.” 

The water park was hard to find, and it didn’t look like much. It had a smell of rotted chlorine and burning things. Percy was not a fan. 

The rides were all crumbling, with empty waterslides and pools. Even in the afternoon light, the place looked creepy. The park was surrounded by high barbed wire. It looked ugly and terrible. 

“How do we get in?” Percy looked at his friends. “Maybe climb over the wire?” Ethan stared at Percy as he had just said the earth was flat.

“You have wings.”

It took Percy two trips to bring his friends over the fence, one awkward spin in the air, and one time dropping Ethan who had scowled at him the whole way.

“Who on Earth would want to be taken here for a date?” Percy asked.  

Inside the park, it was even more desolate, all the slides now pale imitations of their original colors. 

Ethan scoffed, “I see you don’t know anything about myths still, it’s who in the heavens . Maybe if you bothered to learn anything you would be able to chip in.” 

“Screw you!”

Grover kicked the ground, “guys, stop fighting! We need to find the shield and return it, remember?”

“I just want to know who Ares’ girlfriend is,” Percy didn’t see why he was in the wrong here when Ethan was clearly the one causing all the problems. Yeah, he’d run away, but it wasn’t like he would have been any help! 

 “Aphrodite, Goddess of love,” Ethan walked away from Percy and towards the abandoned rides. “Now, who wants to find love?”

Percy didn’t care about love but he did want to clear his name, so he followed Ethan towards the abandoned tunnel of love ride. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side of the group, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read: THRILL RIDE O’ LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS’ TUNNEL OF LOVE!

Grover crept towards the edge. “Guys, look,” He pointed down the sloped basin.

Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares’s shield, a polished circle of bronze.

“So, how do we get it?”

Ethan eyed the edge of the pool thoughtfully. “It’s covered in greek letters, it could be a historical place that moved to America and updated with the times.”

That was about as unhelpful an answer as Percy had expected. “So should we just climb down or…” he let himself trail off. 

Ethan stuck his tongue out and exhaled. “I guess we should? It’s kind of weird because it’s…” he reddened the same way he had when Ares told him he didn’t need to kneel, “Yunno.”

“What?” Percy didn’t get it, what was so bad about the ride? 

“It’s a love tunnel ” Ethan hissed, seeming mortified by the very idea of it. “What if it’s enchanted to make us fall in love or something?”

“Then Grover will snap us out of it! Besides,” Percy felt like being mean, “I could never fall in love with you .”

“Fine,” Ethan started down the side. “But you need to come with me,” he jumped off the edge and awkwardly slid down a few feet. 

Percy climbed down after Ethan, feeling decidedly normal about this. It was an easy walk to the boat. The bronze shield was on one seat and a blue scarf lay on the one next to it. He looked up.

Mirrors surrounded the pool, from every angle he could see himself and Ethan. Percy was noticeably taller than Ethan. He stuck his tongue out at Ethan’s reflection, and Ethan shoved him. 

“Hey!” He stumbled towards the seat and grabbed the scarf. It smelled sweet, like his mother when he came home from a long day and he could be swept up by her. 

He missed his mom.

Percy was about to bring the scarf up to his face when Ethan grabbed the shield. He heard something snap. 

“There was a tripwire!” Ethan's frantic cry knocked Percy out of his trance. The greek letters around the edge were beginning to glow. 

“The letter is Eta or H, like Hephestus,” Ethan said, breathing fast. “He must have set this trap up to catch Aphrodite cheating.” The bronze cupids fired across the pit, thin metallic threads behind them rooting and weaving a cover over them. “This is not good.”

“Thanks for stating the obvious,” Percy was panicking. He could run, but could he get Ethan? He couldn’t leave Ethan again . 

“Guys,” Grover called down to them. “Come up over here!” He was trying to hold the net open, the cables were twisting around him like one of Medusa’s snakes. “Get the shield and come up! Please, guys.”

Video cameras rose from the cupid’s heads. “Live to Olympus in one minute… Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight…” 

Percy and Ethan scrambled to climb up until Percy’s hand slipped. As he fell Percy grabbed Ethan and flew up, his previously forgotten wings flapping furiously, roughly putting Ethan and the shield through the hole in the netting. He was about to follow- then bronze things shot out and knocked him down. 

The cameras swiveled to him and went live as millions of bronze spiders, armed with pincers, circled below him.

Percy had managed to get a few feet up in the air, but the spiders were persistent. One nipped his leg, taking a chunk off. The rest were shooting out tendrils of metal thread. They were easy to break but strong in number. Percy had to think fast. 

He was a son of Hermes; What good could that do him? 

Percy spun, looking for something he could use to his advantage. There was a curved piece of metal that looked sharp lying just within reach, but there was no doubt it would be awkward. Then, he finally looked at the cameras.

Percy was good at playing a part to fit in.

He grabbed the sharp half-circle of metal. 

The spiders sent out their threads, but Percy had a strength to his blows that he had never felt before. He did flips in the air, slamming through walls of spiders as fast as possible, taking more and more out. 

They just kept coming. 

He could see an exit, gated and cut off by the millions of terrible spiders, but if he could get it open…

He yelled at where Ethan and Grover stood, up near the controller’s booth. “Guys, open the gates!”

“What?” Ethan yelled back. 

“Open the gates from the controller's booth!” Percy motioned towards it with his free hand. More spiders tried to drag him down. Luckily, Grover got what he was saying. 

Percy twirled and swung his metal while Grover frantically hit buttons. The cameras followed his every move, blinking red lights watching ominously. There were spotlights on him, he realized, as the gates began to go down. 

He faced the cameras and winked, no thoughts in his head but survival. Percy flew in a tight spiral, smashing through the spiders and out of the gates, spotlights piercing into him. The tunnel was full of turns and garish images even Valentine’s cards would cringe away from, but Percy’s only thought was that he needed to get out of this alive. 

He had to survive.

He burst out of the tunnel with spiders chasing him, and saw the end of the ride. 

He flew a little bit, out of the pool and into the sky, shaking off the last of the threads. He flew to where Grover and Ethan were and slid, the metal ripping from his palm. He stood up and brushed off the grass, and bowed to the camera, the metal falling from his hand.

“Hope you all had a good time watching, but it’s time for a commercial break.” At his words, the cameras retracted.

Percy was tired, sore, and very, very, very angry. 

Ares had tricked him, he’d coerced them into going on this stupid quest just so he could be shown and laughed at by the gods. 

Percy hated that thought

“That was amazing, Perce,” Grover ran up as Percy collapsed to the ground, exhausted. “How did you do that?”

“Talent, I guess,” Percy said, staring up at the sun. 

 “I think you pushing me out of the pool fills your debt from running away at Em’s place.” 

Percy sighed, “Does this mean you’ll be nice to me now?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Grover lay down next to Percy and, after a moment's hesitation, Ethan lay down near them. “I think it’s time to rest,” Percy said, turning face down to the concrete. “What do you think my ratings were?”

They met Ares at a truck stop off the highway, cars whizzing by as they sat in the shitty fast food chain, eating like they hadn’t seen food in months. The whole restaurant was on the other side of the room. People had cleared out after Ares arrived. Percy hated his face. 

“We got your stupid shield,” was the first thing he said after the god motioned for them to sit down in front of the food. “That was a trap, wasn’t it?”

The god laughed, a sound resembling a battle cry. “You’re lucky I like punks, kid. You looked good on TV. Here,” he waved his hand and their bags appeared, along with a blue backpack. “I’ve even given you something for the road.”

Percy looked at the bag suspiciously, “Is this another trap?” The god of war shook his head. 

“It’s your reward. You all did a favor for me,” Ares motioned to his shield. “So I’m doing a favor for you.” He tossed Percy a necklace with a key on it. “Oh, and that'll come in handy.” 

Percy squinted at it. This felt wrong, but he had a god raising an eyebrow at him. He put the cord around his neck. It tightened until it was pressed up too close to take off. 

“I set up a place for you to crash if you can get to Las Vegas,” Ares put a business card down. “Oh, and you’ll probably see Apollo on your trip. He’s been looking for talent since Artemis scooped up some young child actors for her girl gang, so your performance will have put him in recruiter mode.” Ares’ face broke into a cruel smile, “when you see him, ask about May Castellan for me.” 

And then they were alone at a truck stop, four backpacks and three scared kids.

They put Grover’s stuff in the new backpack because he was the one who could bear to part with his bag.

They hitched a ride in a truck that took them from New Jersey to North Carolina, eating the last of the food from Medusa’s. The ride took all night, and Percy tried to sleep. In Illinois, they bid the trucker farewell and sat on a bench outside a convenience store that was blazingly lit with white lights in the time just before dawn. There was a billboard across the road, urging people to go to a fast food chain that they already passed by every day. 

“I don’t think she deserved it,” Percy said to Ethan. They hadn’t talked since they crashed in the truck. “Medusa, I mean.”

“What?” Grover asked.

“Me and Ethan were talking about Medusa and how she seemed nice but also tried to kill me yesterday, and I thought over if she deserved it or not.”

“Oh,” Grover reached into Ares’ bag and pulled out Medusa’s cookbook. “Do you think her girlfriend was real?”

“Yes.” Percy could always tell when people were or weren’t lying, even if it would be better to believe they had lied. 

“Do you think June misses her?”

“Didn’t she also have sisters?” Percy responded, ignoring Ethan’s question. He reached into his bag and pulled out his book of Greek myths. There it was, the myth of Perseus. He read from it before either of his companions could answer, “And having received also from Hermes an adamantine sickle, he flew to the ocean and caught the Gorgons asleep. He approached Medusa – the only one of the three Gorgons who was mortal – all the while carefully gazing at the reflection of the monster in Athena’s bronze shield. Guided by the goddess, Perseus raised the sickle and violently struck off Medusa’s head. Perseus managed to escape the winged Gorgons, who returned to their lair to mourn their sister.”

Were Medusa’s sisters mourning her again, cursed to watch their sister die again and again for all of eternity? 

“Maybe her sisters faded, that can happen to monsters sometimes,” Ethan said as he opened the cookbook. “Oh, this is filled with notes.”

In the margins and across the pages were carefully scrawled lines, additions, and changes to recipes, yes, but also doodles or notes on how this dish had been served. 

“June first, I asked June to be my girlfriend for her month with this pasta. It was good enough to get her to agree,” Grover read out, his voice shaking slightly. 

The door to the store chimed as someone walked out, and the warm light from inside reflected off the crystal in the window, making a rainbow dance across the pavement quickly. 

“Guys, we can contact camp,” Ethan got up and began walking towards the store. Percy got up to follow and heard the spray paint bottles clink. He had gotten a gold one, a black one, a white, and a green. Maybe…

 He looked up at the billboard. “Guys, before we talk to camp somehow, how ‘bout we have some fun?”

The graffiti wasn’t great, but they had been rushing to finish it before the day dawned. It covered over the burger chain’s sign and, on a white background, was Medusa. Well, a version of her. Her head was green with snakes for hair, black aviators on, and red from the sign served as color for her stuck-out tongue. It was all enclosed in a golden circle.

Art here is by my beta reader and friend three (@threecirclingbuzzards on tumblr) :D it's awesome <- loves art

They walked into the convenience store half an hour later, hands covered in paint droplets. The plan was simple. 

Percy went up to the counter with Ethan and stared pleadingly at the worker, as Grover stood hidden outside the door. “Would you help me?” he asked the worker, whose name tag read “Avari.”  

Avari, who looked to be twenty or so, with pale skin and short brown hair, looked at Ethan and then at Percy, who tried to look as pathetic as possible. “Kid? What’s going on?”

“Evan’s father kicked him out,” Percy made his lower lip shake and welled up his eyes. “Please will you let him call his mother?” Avari sighed and looked at Ethan who was doing a great job of huddling miserably in on himself.  

“It’ll be okay, kiddo. I’ll help you get to somewhere safe.” Percy watched as Avari brought Ethan to the back room to call his ‘mother.’ When Percy was sure Avari was distracted he looked around to plan his path. He felt bad about it, but he grabbed the crystal that hung above the door. Percy peeked over the desk and saw that Avari’s clipboard had doodles covering it, including one of him and Ethan. He grabbed the clipboard too.

In the back room, he could hear snatches of Avari’s conversation with Ethan. Ethan was explaining how his mother had never been in his life and his father had been terrible, so “she must be better, right? Will it be okay?” 

“Is it okay for me to pat your back?” Avari asked. 

Percy wished they were a worse person as he waited politely, as though he had not just shoved a clipboard and a crystal, which he still didn’t know the purpose of, into his bag. He opened the bag and pulled out the fifty dollars, and left it where the clipboard had been, peeking out from a timesheet. 

Ethan was crying sincerely in the back room as Avari passed him the phone and left the room. 

“Thank you so much,” Percy tried to fill the space as the two waited by looking at the candy, letting the conversation become background noise.

Avari tried to wait with Percy and Ethan for ‘Ethan's mother to come’ but they shooed Avarice off via a well-timed scream and crash from Grover. 

“She seemed nice,” Percy stared at the tear tracks down Ethan’s face. 

“He.” 

“What?” all thoughts of how Ethan hadn’t been lying when he told his sob story flew out of Percy’s head. “What do you mean?”

“Avari’s a guy and goes by he and him.” Ethan combed a hand up through his hair, standing firmly. “Like you or me.” 

Percy paused, processing the correction. “He seemed nice.”

Ethan quickly nodded. “We don’t need people who are nice right now. They’re too liable to create problems for kids like us. Or turn out to be monsters who want to cut us to ribbons, eat us whole, or create some other grisly fate for our lives.” Percy watched as Ethan held up the pendant, a rainbow flickering across the sidewalk. “Come on, we need to find an alley,” Ethan took off at a jog.

Projected on the grimy wall of a grimy street in a grimy town that was somehow full of light and empty of people was a rainbow from the pendent they had hung. Ethan rooted around in his bag and grabbed a flash of silver.

“Oh Iris, Goddess of the Rainbow, accept our offering and show us the Hermes Cabin at Camp Half-Blood,” Ethan said as he through the obols at the wall. Sure enough, the rainbow shimmered and shifted as it sucked in the coins, the alley changing to the familiar wood walls and cramped beds that made up the Hermes Cabin. Alabaster was sitting with Lou Ellen on a bed, their backs turned, fire blazing in their hands. 

“Alabaster!” Percy called gleefully. He had missed the Hermes Cabin. For all the ways it made him lonely it had still been the first community to accept him. 

Alabaster turned, his look of frustration turning to his half smile. “Percy, Ethan, good to see you! I thought you’d left the reject cabin behind.” Ethan laughed, the first time he had looked truly carefree on their quest. “We’ve missed you.” he motioned around at the empty cabin. “Everyone will be so sad they didn’t catch this call.” 

“It’s great to just see you,” Ethan said it like it was true, but Percy could sense a hint of something else behind it. 

Alabaster turned to Lou Ellen, “Lou, would you go see if anyone else wants to see our questers?” she nodded and ran off. Alabaster turned back towards them. “Grover, leave.” 

Grover bit his lip but left the alley, looking around as he left. 

“Why did you make him leave?” Percy didn’t understand why Alabaster made his friend leave. 

Alabaster’s scars seemed to become less visible, his pale skin almost glowing white, “just tell him that he can believe she was a daughter of Zeus all he wants. Ethan knows what I mean.” 

“So, how is camp?” Ethan broke through the moment. “How’s Silena doing as the counselor?”

Alabaster looked like he was trying to smile, but he didn’t hide his grimace, “Silena is as good as usual, she’s basically letting me run things. Oh, Percy!” he shifted. “If you come back you’ll be the counselor once you’ve been at camp a year. They’ll keep the current system till then. It’s the same bullshit as always.” 

With every word Alabaster said, Ethan seemed to shrink down again. Whatever sense of home he had felt had been squashed by the memories of reality. 

Percy wanted to make him feel better.

He didn’t know how.

The cabin door opened, but the image was flickering. Alabaster waved at Ethan and Percy, and Percy felt like something in him was wider and sharper than usual. Then, he heard Grover’s cry.

“Guys, we need to go !” Grover rounded the corner and beaconed at where Percy and Ethan stood. Ares’ backpack swung on his shoulders. A hissing sound echoed behind him, and something moved heavily. Percy ran, following Grover. None of them knew where they were going. 

They rounded a corner, still running and running, Percy was about to offer his speed when he caught a glimpse of the monster. It had two heads, hissing snakes coming from one body. 

The road they had turned down led to a dead end at a fancy building, some enterprise or another. It was all glass and steel, ugly and pompous. Percy thought he saw a flash of red in the front of the building, but it was probably his imagination.

He turned at the end of the street, Ethan and Grover at his sides. 

If he died now, at least he’d have given it his best shot. 

Percy cursed the fact he hadn’t brought the piece of metal from Waterland, it had fit better in his hands than Riptide. He still uncapped the sword. Beside him, Ethan drew his sword, the two-foot-long blade glowing in the sun. Grover pulled a tin can out of his bag, arcing his arm back to aim. 

The snake creature lunged. 

Percy ducked and swung his blade up, Riptide surging in his hands to chop off the head that had lunged for him. It fell to the ground, staring at him.

Two new stumps pushed up from the neck and then kept going till the monster had three heads. The same was happening with the second head, which Ethan had sliced through. 

“It’s a hydra!” Percy was scared for his life, but he was still thrilled he actually knew the mythology for once. “We need fire!” 

“How are we supposed to make fire, genius?” Ethan snapped. 

Behind him, Percy saw a flicker of movement.

Grover threw an unopened soda can at the hydra, who opened a mouth and ate it.

Briefly, everything paused to stare at the head that had just swallowed mountain dew whole. Nothing happened.

The head exploded. 

The trio was blown back by the blast, Percy dropping riptide while he fell, while Ethan managed to roll and get back up. Grover grabbed Percy’s hand and they swung at the hydra, switching to defensive moves.  

“We can also try and just neutralize the heads without chopping them off, you just need to stab through both eyes,” Ethan demonstrated by aiming at a head and stabbing it, the face lolling limply. 

Two new heads sprouted from the head Ethan had stabbed. 

“Nevermind.” 

They went another five minutes rolling out of the way of hydra spit and sharp teeth, but Percy was run down, and he could tell Grover and Ethan were too.

“Hey scaly, over here!” someone behind them yelled. Percy turned his head, trying to keep one eye on the hydra, and saw a girl. She had dark brown skin and black ringlets. In her hands was a fireplace lighter and something in a spray can. Percy watched her run forward awkwardly. “Get back guys, I’ve got this!” The girl aimed the can at the hydra and then put the lighter in front of it, sending a jet of fire at the monster. 

The heads blackened and charred supernaturally fast, the hydra falling limp after a minute of the trio watching the girl in shocked awe. 

When she turned they could see her shirt, red with black hand-drawn letters that read, ‘Fuck Gentrification.’

 “What on earth was that?” she asked. 

“Who are you?” Ethan raised his sword again slowly. 

“I’m Rachel.” the girl began, “and please put the sword down.” 

“You’re a demigod.” 

“What are you talking about?” Rachel squinted at Ethan’s blade which he still hadn’t lowered. “Is that a real sword?” Ethan, Grover, and Percy shared a glance and Ethan finally put his blade down. 

“How did you do that fire trick- Wait, how did you know to use fire if you didn’t know what the hydra was?” Percy changed thoughts mid-sentence. Was Rachel a half-blood or just another monster? He inched his hand towards Riptide. 

“Those things come by sometimes. They never interact with me, but one fell down and turned to dust when it hit a sparking street light, so I started seeing if this got rid of them. Now, you owe me an explanation on who you are, what that… hydra was, and what is a demigod?”

Grover took a bite out of the can in his hand and started walking towards the building. “It’s weird; She has no scent.” 

“I think you’re the weird one.” Rachel opened the door and Percy was met with the wonderful feel of air conditioning. “We can talk in Conference Room G.”

Chapter Text

Conference Room G had blueprints everywhere, maps of the world and the United States scattered around. Rachel cleared four chairs off and put them in a circle.

“How about I ask a question and then one of you asks a question and we repeat until we’re finished?”

“Okay,” Grover said, speaking for the group before any of them had time to think.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Ethan, son of Nemesis, these are my co-questers, Percy and Grover.” Percy didn’t miss how Ethan neglected to say ‘friends.’ “Who are you?”

“I’m Rachel Elizabeth Dare, daughter of Talia.”

“The muse?” Grover asked. “That would explain the weakness of your scent, it's like it isn't even there.”

“What? No, my mom isn’t a ‘muse,’ she’s a social worker.”  

“Who’s your dad?” Percy asked.

Rachel sighed and gestured around, “Alvin Dare.”

Grover looked shocked and then appalled. “Alvin Dare, the man who buys parks and cities and ruins them?”

“Yup,” Rachel popped the p. “Believe me, I’m about as happy with it as you are. Now, it’s my turn to ask another question, what was that?”

“That was a hydra, they’re one of the many creatures and beings you’ve heard about in Greek mythology that are more real than mortals think.”

Percy asked his question before Ethan had time, “How are you?” Grover and Ethan both stared at him, Grover amused and Ethan annoyed. “Guys, we just met her.”

“A little frazzled,” Rachel laughed and pushed her hair back, before bouncing her hand. “I’d ask how you are but first I just want to know what a demigod is, is it like Hercules?”

“Yes,” Ethan didn’t seem thrilled with the comparison. “We’re half-moral, half-god. In some cases, we can be less, like legacies who are a quarter god. The godly side is what allows us to see monsters and touch godly things.” he held out his sword for Rachel to feel.

Her hand passed through it.

“Whoa, weird.” Rachel waved her hand back and forth through the sword. Percy, Grover, and Ethan stared wide-eyed.

“Next question, what in the Hades is going on?” Grover said it jokingly, but he wasn’t smiling.

“I think I’m not a demigod, or at least, I’m dysfunctional.” Ethan pulled the sword away from Rachel. “Wait, maybe I can hold the hilt?” Rachel reached for the leather grip but her hand passed through it. “Oh, this is so weird.”

“She might just be a mortal who can see through the mist,” Ethan put his hand on the blade as though he too might pass through it.

Rachel wrinkled her nose, “What is the mist?” Truth be told, Percy was going to ask the same thing.

“It’s like,” Ethan shrugged, “it stops mortals from seeing things that they think shouldn’t exist. Like, my sword might look like a baseball bat, or the hydra could look like a cow.”

“A cow? It was so-”

Ethan kept going, his urge to talk about what he knew overpowering his manners, “or mortals might not be able to remember what a scar looks like or even not see it. Mortals— most mortals— will only be able to perceive a certain version of the world. Half-bloods can have it to a lesser extent so we don’t go crazy,” he beamed as he finished talking.

“You can still burn up if you see a god’s true form,” said a man leaning against the doorway. He had golden hair that seemed to shine and pale skin that was smooth and unscarred. He appeared to be in his early twenties, with white teeth and brown eyes so perfect they almost seemed unnatural. “Which is why we work hard to not show our true forms to half-bloods we like.”

Percy’s mouth dropped while Ethan instinctively put his hands up, as though to protect himself. Was there seriously another god interfering with them?  “We?”

The man smiled, light seeming to emulate from his being, “Yes, we, Perseus Jackson. Is this really how you people are greeting Apollo these days?”

“Ares said we might see you,” Percy was so tired of gods.

“And you’ve been waiting and waiting? That’s so sweet. You know, you looked great on television.”

Percy stepped back behind Ethan, “I don’t want to be on your television show.” Apollo's smile seemed to blind him until he closed his eyes and blinked, spots floating in his vision.

“You three are quite the rage up on Olympus these days,” Apollo looked over Ethan and Grover too for the first time. “They’re saying you helped him steal the master bolt. A son of Nemesis and a failed Searcher walk into an office building, the start of quite a good joke if you ask me. And, who might you be?”

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and with my question, I’d like to ask what you’re doing here.” Grover drew in a breath but Apollo just laughed, a sound like sparkles.

“I’m here because I heard some questers were hanging around and I wanted to meet them. And you, of course.”

“Me?”

“My main focus is on the son of Hermes-”

“My name is Percy, you know.”

“And the son of Nemesis.” Ethan stuck his tongue out nervously.

“I mean no disrespect, Lord Apollo, but what could you want from me?”

“I saw you were in the business of finding things left behind, and I left my watch at the bank.”

Percy stared at Apollo, dumbfounded. He was on a quest to find the most powerful weapon in existence, with only three and a half days between him and the deadline, and Apollo was making him do an errand. He’d already lost time to Ares. But, he couldn’t exactly refuse a god.

“Bank of America Corporate Center, it’s just a block or two over. It’s on the sixtieth floor, I can even give you all passes!” with a wave of his hand, Apollo produced two silver cards and one golden one. “Only one of you will be able to go in and actually get my watch, but that shouldn’t be any problem for heroes such as yourself. And you even have someone who knows all about the building already! Now, I want to have a chat with the lovely Ms. Dare.” he didn’t leave room for argument.

Percy and his friends were left staring up at the massive structure, glass stretching to scrape the sky. It had iron spikes coming out of the top like a crown.

“What did Apollo mean when he said one of us knows the building?” Percy asked his friends as they ate the candy he had grabbed from Rachel’s front desk.

“I do,” Ethan didn’t seem happy about it. “But I only know of its existence.”

Percy let that roll off of him while he thought up a plan. “We have passes, do we say it’s take your kid to work day? That might require parents who work here,” he held out the passes. “Okay, who wants gold level access?”

“Not it!” Ethan shouted, his words echoing around the street.

Grover just shook his head, “It smells like monsters, more than the rest of the city even.”

Percy pulled the gold pass around his neck, dangling lower than the strange key from Ares.

The building didn’t smell like monsters to Percy, but it did smell like people. It was huge, with a shopping mall kept within the building. At first, they didn’t need to lie, walking around like part of the crowd. It was when they reached the first office space that things started to get tricky.

The passes got them into the elevator but the elevator only took them to floor fifty. Grover, Ethan, and Percy piled out into a room full of white cubicles and pens scribbling.

“You’d think a bank would have more safes in it,” Percy poked Grover. “Get it?”

“I got it, it just wasn’t funny Perce,” Grover said, his smile giving him away.

Ethan looked over the room, his gaze cloudy. “Percy, anything in your bag that could help us? Any special Hermes kid tricks?”

Percy did not, but he still reached valiantly into his bag, his hand settling on the clipboard. “Guys, we have passes, just follow my lead and look like you know what you’re doing,” Percy held the clipboard in front of him and began walking, shoulders back and head held high. ‘Please don’t let them notice me,’ he prayed, to Hermes or maybe just to anyone who would listen.

It worked.

The trio strolled through the floor with almost zero suspicion placed upon them. One woman tried to stop them, a blue pass hanging from her bag.

“What are you kids doing here?” her breath smelled of mints and her tail waved behind her. She was a monster, but didn’t seem like she was about to eat them. Then again, that might be hard to tell. Percy could see Ethan and Grover shifting so he pulled on his brightest smile, the smile that made teachers ready to believe whatever story he was about to tell.

“What we are up to is not your concern, and should be taken up with the heads of internship at the Carolina Institute for the Gifted.” Percy let the words roll off his tongue with the attitude of someone who believed they knew better than everyone else. “We have security passes higher than you’ll ever be allowed, especially if you don’t even wear yours.” He didn’t know how he knew what to say, he just did. “Now please let us go do our work,” he strode past her, Ethan and Grover following behind.

The next complication came when Grover’s crutch slipped on a bag left out in the paths between cubicles, leading to an angry-looking man staring them down. He didn’t seem happy with them, drawing himself up to his full eight feet or so.

“What do you think you’re doing here?” he thundered, breath smelling of sulfur. “Destroying possessions and causing chaos?”

“We are interns,” Percy began, but the man didn’t care, steam escaping his nostrils.

“Interns are a dime a dozen, and you three smell delicious,” that seemed as good a cue as any to book it. Percy was about to run when the monster lunged, only to explode into dust as Ethan’s blade connected with the monster’s flesh, just below its chin.

“Guess that trade really paid off,” Ethan stared at his sword, held in his left hand.  

Percy wanted to argue but they were already running to the second elevator, and besides, he didn’t know how he would argue. The elevator ride to the top was silent — besides the jingle from an advertisement playing over and over — until the bell chimed and the trio got out into a waiting room.

The secretary sitting at the desk across the room was pretty, with bat ears and wings that flickered in and out of existence. She smiled at Percy, her fangs visible. “You’re the only one with access, young man.”

Her tone didn’t leave room for argument, so Percy slipped off his bag. “Just in case,” he whispered to Grover, fully aware the secretary could hear his every word. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He was not ready.

He pushed the heavy wooden door open, revealing the corner office. A dragon sat behind a comically small desk, his bulk taking up half of the office. They were sixty floors up, the huge bay windows providing a breathtaking view of both the city and the fall that could be promised. The dragon let out a puff of smoke as Percy entered. For a minute or two, the dragon said nothing, seemingly waiting for Percy to speak.

When it became apparent Percy was not going to exchange words with him, the dragon broke the silence. “You’ve seen fit to come to my abode, armed to the teeth with powerful weapons, for what? Do you seek to threaten me? Who has lived, again and again, who has seen the fall of empires?”

“Lord Apollo sent me to retrieve his watch,” Percy hoped Ethan and Grover were okay out in the lobby. “I don’t want trouble.”

The dragon bellowed with laughter, fire shooting out of his mouth at where Percy stood. He dove out of the way, the uncomfortable warmth passing over him, singing his clothes.

“Are you truly as foolish as you seem, mortal?”

Percy was tired of being talked down to.

The dragon didn’t seem to care about his lack of response, resuming his guffaws of fire.  

“You’re retrieving the item for Apollo yet you have no idea of the significance it holds, nor what could be done with it. You don’t even know who I am.”

 “I don’t suppose you’d tell me all those things?” Percy reached for Riptide, the useless pen heavy in his hand.

“I am Sol, one of the dragons who pulled Helios’ chariot across the sky before he faded into usurpation and I was left behind. It must be enough for me to say thus: the watch is no more a watch than the sea is a watch, and Apollo did not leave it here. You have been sent as his challenger for it.”

Great. Just great. Percy was sent, once again without his knowledge, to do a god’s dirty work.

“What does a challenger do?” Percy toyed with the cap of Riptide.

“Defeat me… or die trying,” with that, Sol lunged.

Percy let Riptide elongate, thinking frantically. He didn’t think yelling for his friends would do anything. He stabbed his sword frantically, the metal sliding off of Sol’s scales. He dived out of the way of the dragon’s next swipe and tried to assess the situation. Diving out of the way yet again, Percy looked for any weakness. Sol had spaces between his scales, maybe Percy could stab his sword up through one?

Percy ducked, rolled, and stabbed, his sword skittering off of Sol’s iron-hard scales again and again. The heat of the fire was starting to melt the windows and even getting his unbalanced sword to counter a blow felt fruitless. When Sol’s wings rose Percy saw they raised his scales too, his weak spots visible. If Percy could get him to raise his body then he could get an opening. The only problem would be staying alive long enough to do so.

The plan was concocted quickly, it was crazy, and it would probably result in death.

Percy ran to stand in front of the window as Sol prepared to charge. He knew he couldn’t mess up. Sol moved towards Percy faster than he thought possible, the scorching breath coming ever closer. At the last possible second, he rolled out of the dragon's way and let him fly out, hovering outside.

Percy jumped out the window.

His wings flapped hard, struggling to propel him with force into Sol. He raised his sword and hoped he would hit true.

Sol exploded in a blast of sunshine and heat, a burning materializing on Percy’s wrist. He spun in spirals, the pain and confusion overwhelming him.

The last thing he saw was the fluffy clouds below.

Percy woke up lying on the cement floor of a warehouse. A worker peered down at him from a forklift.

“Hey,” Percy said stupidly, a greeting that seemed unfit for the situation. He added a “what’s going on?” for good measure.

“You’re in a Hermes Express Cloudline Facility,” the worker said with authority. Percy’s whole body hurt.

“Do you know my dad?”

“Not personally,” even as Percy stared at the worker he couldn’t place their features. “But I do know a lot of people who know him. He’s very cool apparently, and he cares a lot for you.” The worker winked. “Oh, we have a package for you, I just need you to sign for it.”

Percy stood up, his bones and muscles protesting. His clothes, which he had been sure were burnt, were in perfect condition. They smelled like they had just been washed with the laundry detergent his mom used. On his wrist was a gold watch in the shape of the sun, burning slightly. He decided that wasn’t his main worry and stretched, his neck cracking and his body protesting. When he stretched out his wings he could see they had grown, where they used to go to his shoulders at their full spread, they now went out further still, almost large enough that he could wrap himself in them.

“What should I call you?” Percy asked the man who was probably his father in disguise.

“Semreh should work.”

Percy decided to not comment on the lack of subtlety and instead focus on the box the forklift was holding. It was ridiculously small for a forklift, a foot and a half by a foot, maybe. Percy turned to look at ‘Semreh’ again and saw he was on the ground, despite the fact Percy knew for a fact he hadn’t climbed down.

Semreh grabbed the box and brought it over so Percy could see its white label with gold lettering.

The box was made out to “Perseus Alamar Jackson, beloved son of Hermes” and had no address. Semreh held up a clipboard he had brought from nowhere and held a pen out to Percy.

Percy signed his name on the line and Semreh passed him the box. It weighed about the same amount as a large container of ketchup. He pulled Riptide out of pen form to carefully slice through the label.

Inside there was a letter and a sickle. The sickle glowed green in the light with a black leather handle.

“Hermes gave this adamantine sickle to your namesake, Perseus. He too killed Medusa.” Percy reached in the box and held the handle, it was strangely warm in his hands. “Zeus used this when he fought Typhon, too,” Semreh stared at Percy, almost looking sorry. “This sickle has had another owner, one who I am forbidden to speak of. It can be a tool of evil, but I trust you will use it for what is right.”

Percy nodded, his mouth dry. Then, he reached for Riptide, “what about my sword?”

“Riptide is a strong blade, but it was not made for someone like you. Hermes’ children, for all your wonderful qualities, don’t have a big elemental power. Right now it probably feels off-balance to you, that’s because it isn’t carrying a charge. Normally big three children, or really, Poseidon's children, use it. They control the water in the air unconsciously, making the blade an extension of water. If you had a magical fire then maybe you could wield the blade, but without an element of power it will always feel off for you. Besides, it has a different destiny, you are just its carrier for now. There is a possibility, if you asked a god, maybe one who owes you a favor, you could get something to be able to use the sword as intended for a short time.”

Percy was tired of quests and he missed his friends. He missed his mom.

“The journey back to your friends is a long fall and when you leave this place you will no longer be protected from the sun on your wrist,” Percy looked at the watch he had forgotten. It looked like red hot metal, but it wasn’t burning him.

“Can I have a hug?” Percy was tired and sore and missed his mom, but maybe he could gain the littlest bit of comfort.

“Of course,” Hermes hugged his son tightly and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “Always remember that you are loved, the letter from your father talks about how much he cares for you. He knows you are brave and he wants you to know that it’s okay to be scared but you will be okay.”

Percy swiped at his eyes as he relaxed into the hug. He felt the same way he had when he’d gone on roller coasters like his brain was quiet. Maybe gods weren’t all that bad. Percy closed his eyes, feeling the comfort of hugging his father. When he opened his eyes, Hermes was gone.

Percy wanted to stay in the warehouse forever, just resting, but he knew Ethan and Grover would be worrying. He walked to the giant open wall in the warehouse and looked around. Percy was on a cloud, endless sky stretching before him. Far below he could see buildings. The Bank of America building looked nothing like it had. Its top half seemed to have been burnt and exploded. Had Percy’s friends made it out? He leaned out, about to test a jump, but as soon as his wrist crossed the threshold it began to burn painfully. He pulled it back and looked at the watch he had won. If Percy kept thinking about it he would never jump, so he put the letter in his bag, riptide in pen form, and the sickle in a handy sheath he hadn’t noticed, putting it on his left hip.

Percy dived off the cloud, his wings folded around him. The watch began to burn hotter and hotter, and as Percy fell he could see flames spreading up his shirt, dancing over him but not burning through his clothes. He felt like the world was in slow motion as he dove past the burning wreckage of the Bank of America corporate center. He didn’t know how but he knew when to open his wings, white feathers and red flames against the blue night sky. He saw the ground as though he were rising to meet it, sickle at his side and sun burning on his wrist. He flew faster and faster until the ground was just within reach, slowing his body till he landed powerfully, wings stretching up around him, fire licking his outline.

Percy fell to the ground in front of Ethan and Grover’s surprised faces.

“Please help,” Percy held his burning wrist up. They were outside Dare Industries, its windows glowing.

It took Ethan and Grover half an hour to get the watch off of Percy because even as they tried to grab it they were burnt. Percy couldn’t imagine what the mortals walking by them thought they were seeing as a satyr and a demigod tried to get a watch off of their friend who was covered in flames that didn’t seem to be burning him.

The inside of Percy’s right wrist now had a burn mark in the shape of a circle with lines coming out of the top half, like a rising sun. The watch was in Grover’s bag because a bag from a god could probably hold a powerful magical item.

Rachel and Apollo were deep in conversation when the trio walked through the doors to Conference Room G once again.

“The wonderful questers return. Rachel, you don’t have to accept but please consider my offer. Did you succeed, Perseus Jackson?”

“Here’s your watch,” Percy threw Grover’s bag at the god. Apollo reached in and pulled it out, looking it over appraisingly.

“This bag’s protections were so strong I couldn’t feel the watch until I knew it was there,” Apollo mused. “Where did you get it?”

“Ares,” Percy wanted this over and done with. “Do we get a reward?”

“Is it not enough to know you have served a god well?” Apollo said the words pointedly, but Percy didn’t care.

“You sent me as your challenger for a watch that branded my skin. My friend is a son of Nemesis, he knows all about how one being can owe another.”

Apollo’s mouth tightened but he nodded, “all’s fair is fair.”

“I want a ride to Las Vegas at least, and a magical charge for my sword,” Percy pulled out Riptide and placed it in front of Apollo who was busy staring at the sickle. “Also I have a question for you.”

“Where did you get that,” Apollo sat perfectly still, not even remembering to breathe.

“I got a package.” Percy was not about to explain what had happened, at least, not to Apollo. “Who’s May Castellan?” If possible, Apollo seemed to still even more.

“Where did you hear that name?”

“Ares.” Percy wanted a nap.

“She was just an old flame of mine,” Apollo laughed, the sound genuine. “Ares probably just told you to see if he could rile me up about missing her, mortals live such terribly short lives.” Every word that he said felt true, its truth pushing into Percy. Apollo was the god of truth. This was the truth.

But Hermes was the god of lies, and Percy could feel, somewhere, in his deepest heart; This was a lie.

Chapter Text

Apollo left Percy and his friends with train tickets to LA and what looked like a glow stick, but he promised Percy would make Riptide glow with the harnessed power of the sun when he needed it. Then, it was just Percy, Ethan, Grover, and Rachel in the conference room.

“What offer did our sunny friend tell you to consider?” Ethan asked.

“He said I had a gift for prophecy, and he told me I can get fifteen extra years to do things, and he’ll set up a life. He said I can spend those years making a difference and he can help and I can do something. He said I could be free of any ties that hold me, and all that I would need to do is go to a super cool camp where there are literally mythical beings and I would get cool powers.”

“He wants you to be the next oracle,” Grover looked horrified. “Because Lorie’s time is running down. I knew she didn’t have long left, but by this indication, I’d guess she only has two years or so. That’s when he probably said you had to make a decision.”

“It seems like a good offer, I could start over,” Rachel drew her shoulders up. “Get away from all this,” she gestured around Dare Industries, the empire she was set to inherit.

“What would you do if you could,” Percy sat down in one of the chairs, and then spun it.

“Dye my hair, probably,” Rachel said it like a joke.

Grover looked at the train tickets mournfully, “if I was free to do whatever I wanted I’d eat those delicious tickets.”

Rachel laughed in sincerity at that, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all, “it’s been great meeting you. Do you have an email?”

Ethan tapped his feet, “no, but we can give you our camp’s business card.” He turned to Grover, “you have one, right?”

As Grover rummaged through Ares’ backpack, Percy asked, “what color would you dye your hair?”

“Red,” Rachel said with no hesitation. “My dad is against it, but, if you name me so my initials spell red, you’d better know that I’m going to make it a signature thing.”

“That’s fair,” Ethan said. “What is your full name?”

“Rachel Elizabeth Dare,” Rachel replied, just as Grover found the business card. He handed the orange rectangle to Rachel.

She turned it over in her hands, staring at the black text.  

“Maybe we’ll see you again,” Grover offered. 

“Yeah,” Rachel looked up from the card. 

Ethan looked over at the clock and winced, “this is fun guys, but we need to get on the train in one hour, so we should probably start walking.”

Rachel grinned at Ethan, “walk? I think you’re forgetting who I am.”

The limo ride to the train station was fun. It was nice to have someone around who didn’t know all the horrors of the mythical world. Percy was able to settle into a more carefree mindset, just four kids in the back of a car, drinking soda and eating candy.

“I haven’t had candy since I was eight or so,” Ethan admitted, to a sea of shocked faces.

“No candy? Not even on a holiday?”

“Camp doesn’t have it, and I hadn’t left home now,” the limo arrived at the train station, cutting off any further questioning.

Ethan grabbed one last candy bar for the road. “It’s been great getting to meet you, Rachel!”

“I’ve enjoyed meeting you all as well.” 

With that, they bade goodbye to Rachel and hopped onto the shiny train platform.

The fifteen or so minutes they had left consisted of repacking their bags and trying not to look like they had been sleeping in the woods. They half succeeded.

The train that pulled up was a bright yellow and called “the sunbeam,” because Apollo had zero subtlety.

Percy squeezed Ethan and Grover's hands once before they got on. “We’ve got this, guys. Only a few days’ ride to Las Vegas, we’ll stay in whatever terrible place Ares booked, go to the Underworld, and save the world. It’ll be easy.”

Ethan squeezed Percy’s hand tightly back, his fingers tracing the burn on Percy’s wrist. Grover drummed his fingers over Percy’s knuckles and then said, “whatever you say Perce.”

Percy held out the tickets when they went to get on, “where do we go?”

The ticket taker smiled at the trio. “Your tickets are very special, kids. You get a whole compartment all to yourselves!” She talked as though they were five instead of twelve as she shepherded them to the back of the train in a luxurious compartment.

It was bedecked with gold, and covered with sun insignias, with comfy benches and a large open space.

“Have you really not left camp since you got there?” Percy asked Ethan as Grover put his bag down on the luggage rack.

“It was my best option. You know, I think I might owe you for blowing up the bank.”

“What?”

Ethan’s tongue poked out, “it’s where my parents met.” He sat down, “my dad, he was fired from there. He went back and burnt their papers to a crisp, destroying years of records. That’s when Nemesis showed up. She said she admired his spirit and offered to whisk him away from consequences if he’d spend the night with her, and she’d just make the balance by offsetting the hurt onto someone else. The next day, I was born, and she left. Maybe you owe me for blowing up the building, but I think I probably owe you.”

“That’s…” Percy didn’t know how to process that. “I don’t think that’s healthy, Ethan.”

“It’s a little messed up, but that’s just who Nemesis and my father are.” Ethan pulled out his sword, “want to get some practice with your new sickle? Cool weapon by the way.”

“Thanks, my father gave it to me,” Percy wanted to brag about the fact he knew his father now, that he was as loved by Hermes as Ethan was loved by Nemesis. “And sure, know any tricks?” he pulled out the sickle. It felt natural in his hand, more than any sword ever had.

“What did you have to trade for it?” Ethan walked over to Percy and looked over his grip. “Okay, to start you need to understand how to use it. I know you used the metal at the Waterland ride, but how can you defend against a sword?”

“I don’t know, but I think I can defend? And I didn’t have to trade anything for it-” Percy’s sickle flew up as Ethan swung at him, letting the sword move down and across the curved blade, catching it. He reached for the thread in him and let the word slow down as he ducked around a swing and brought the sickle as if to cut through from Ethan’s shoulder and neck to his chest. “Hey!”

Ethan moved away, bringing his sword up to Percy’s chest, “I wanted to see how you’d respond under pressure.”

Grover chimed in from the bench where he was eating a tin can of sprite, “that looked super cool, like you both know what you’re doing. Well, Ethan, you always look like that. It’s just nice to see Percy not look like he’s about to chop off his own head.”

Percy stepped away from Ethan’s sword so he could cross his arms and jokingly huff, “you don’t have to be mean about it.”  

They sparred for the next ten minutes, a blur of fluid movements and clashing metal, accompanied by metal being crushed by a watching satyr, before settling down on the soft seats. Percy asked the question that had been needling him since, well really since Ares had brought her up.

“Do you think May Castellan is related to Luke, the one who tried to overthrow the gods?”

Ethan’s tongue poked out, “probably.”

“Apollo was lying when he said she was just an old flame.”

Ethan grimaced, “there’s something we don’t know, then. I hate not knowing things.” He looked like he was about to cry.

“What’s your dad like?” Percy asked Ethan, trying to change the conversation. “And, what were your parents like, too, Grover?”

“Grover can go first,” Ethan said, then backtracked. “Actually, Percy, why don’t you talk about your dad, he gave you a weapon for free, right?”

“Officially it wasn’t my dad, just a warehouse employee, but he gave me the sickle and a letter-” Percy fumbled in his bag for the letter and pulled it out. “He also hugged me and it was really nice.”

“Oh.”

“That’s great!” Grover seemed like he was trying to compensate for Ethan’s reaction. “He sounds cool.”

“He was,” Percy thought of the warehouse full of boxes that contained unknown treasures. “He said I’m loved.”

“My dad never said that,” Ethan looked away from Percy and Grover as he said it. “He never really wanted me. That’s why when Grover came I went with him right away, even though he said my scent wasn’t nearly strong enough to matter. Those two weeks getting to camp with Allie and Alabaster and Grover were great, right till the end,” Ethan trailed off.

Grover looked ashy as Percy asked, “you went to camp with Alabaster? Who’s Allie? Is she the one Alabaster was talking about?”

Ethan opened his mouth but before he could speak Grover jumped in.“She and Alabaster said they were siblings but they didn’t even look similar, and she obviously had lightning powers. She was a daughter of Zeus, but her smell was too strong or the monsters were too many. She died when cornered by a cyclops in a cave near camp. Ethan and Alabaster made it across the border safely and I was trying to think of the good of everyone.” Grover was leaving something out. Percy didn’t want to have him shut down, but he needed to know more, so he appealed to Ethan for the information.

“Ethan, what happened?”

“I was young, I don’t remember fully. I just remember following Grover and everything was okay, and then it wasn’t and we’d made it across the border but something was wrong. Alabaster ran back out and I remember her body. I try not to remember it.”

The train car was silent, then.

The ride to Las Vegas from North Carolina took one night, arriving in the city just as the sun rose. Percy sent a silent prayer of thanks to Apollo out of courtesy.  

The hotel they were meant to be staying at was large and elegant looking. It had a blinking lotus flower and a sign reading ‘Lotus Hotel and Casino.’ The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open, spilling out air conditioning that smelled like lotus blossoms.

The doorman was a man who looked mortal, he gave off the feeling that this man would never know about the mythical world, even if it was shown to him.

The doorman smiled “Hey, kids. You look tired. You want to come in and sit down?”

“We have a reservation,” Percy held out the cards. “Or at least, we were told we have one.”

“Wonderful! Come right in then, and we can get you settled.”

The whole lobby was a giant game room. And not just cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor water slide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. Basically, if you could name it, this place had it.

The doorman gave them three green cards that he grabbed from the desk, “don’t worry, everything is paid for. You’re in room 4263, if you need anything don’t be afraid to ask for it. We don’t accept tips, and your cards will never run out.”

It sounded too good to be true, but nothing the man said felt like a lie to Percy. The trio piled into a glass elevator and rode for what seemed like no time at all.

Their room was huge.

It had three bedrooms, each the size of Percy’s apartment, and a living room, not to mention individual bathrooms and a balcony.

They split up to shower, washing off grime and dirt from time spent sleeping in the woods. The bed felt so nice, especially compared to days sleeping on the forest floor. When Percy exited his room he could see Grover and Ethan sitting on the couch, arguing over which movie to watch. Percy flopped down between them.

“What should we do, guys? The day is just beginning. I want to play some games!” Percy couldn’t think of when he’d last been this excited.

The hotel was amazing. Percy got to play one game where he delivered mail and another where he got to create a system to revolutionize the transit industry. Then, he joined a tabletop game where he played as a thief. The only weird moment was when a girl stopped him. She had pale skin and black hair with blond roots that had grown out a few inches.

“Have you seen my little brother?” she asked. “He was here with me, but I can’t find him.”

“I don’t think so,” Percy responded. “What does he look like?”

The girl paused, thinking hard. “He’s blond, I think. Like me. I don’t know why I’m not all the way blond. He’s little, like, two or three. He has a scar on his lip from…” she paused. “From something.”

“Sorry, I haven’t,” Percy said. He began making his character.

He could see Grover playing some choice-making game set in a forest, the screen lighting up green again and again, and Ethan was changing between games. He stopped at one where you own a store, then a game where you build an empire, running its financial costs. The last time Percy looked over before being sucked into the game was Ethan at some dancing game. He, like Percy, didn’t stay at anything for very long.

Percy played with a girl named Bianca and her brother Nico, and a kid named Sandy who was running the game. His rogue was just pulling off a daring move, stealing the dragon's hoard out from under him, when Grover shook his shoulder.

“What?” Percy snapped, rolling his eyes at Bianca. He couldn’t believe Grover, his friend, would interrupt his game like this.

“Percy, I think something’s wrong.”

“You always think something’s wrong, but most of the time it’s just you.” Grover recoiled and Percy felt a twinge of satisfaction. He turned back to the game.

“Bianca, what do you do?”

Bianca considered her tiefling, a paladin named Donnie. “I’m going to attack the dragon with a beam of light.

Grover shook Percy again. “Percy, wake up! Thievery! Um, we have a quest.” Percy shrugged him off.

“Relax, we have plenty of time,” he didn’t understand why Grover was being such a buzzkill.

“Percy, remember your mom.” Percy felt as though someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on him. The quest, his mother, everything came back to him. His mom… he missed her. He needed her back.

“We need to go,” he said.

“I know,” Grover tugged his shoulder. “Now let’s try to wake Ethan up.”

Ethan was playing some game about being in space and working when the two of them went over. When he turned around his eyes were blank and recognitionless.

“What do you want?”

“Ethan it’s me, Grover,” Grover balled his hands into fists. “This place is a trap.”

Ethan looked the same way that Percy must have when he was prodded. “I would know if this was a trap.”

“Ethan, I talked to a girl looking for her brother and she said the last time she saw him was in 1966.”

“What?” Ethan’s moment of confusion was enough for Percy and Grover to grab his shirt and forcibly pull him away from the game. It sort of worked.

Ethan moved away from the game by hunching down into himself on the floor, breathing quickly. Grover motioned for Percy to step back while he knelt next to Ethan.

“Ethan, it’s okay. It’s me, Grover. Look around, what is just one thing that you can see? I know a lot is going on.” Percy looked away and saw the same girl from earlier, the one he assumed Grover had talked to also.

“Hi, what’s your name?” he asked, trying to keep in his mind that he couldn’t get sucked in. He needed to know, though. 

“Thalia,” she said after a pause. “Who are you?”

“I’m Percy. Do you know how long you’ve been here?” Percy decided that he could actually stay and talk to her for another forty minutes or a few days.

Thalia frowned, “about three months or so. Jason was here for the first two months, but now I can’t find him. Have you seen him? He’s blond, like me-” Grover grabbed Percy’s arm and pulled him away.

“Come on!” as they were about to exit the hotel, Ethan paused.

“Guys, our backpacks are upstairs.” Grover had Ares’ bag over his shoulder, even though Percy could have sworn he’d left it with the rest of their stuff. “I can go get them.”

“Ethan, no!” Percy said. “You fell under the sway of this place once before, we can leave them.”

“I can make it up to you now.'' Before Percy knew what Ethan was doing he began speaking. “I call upon Nemesis to witness this sacrifice.”

- Squeamish section break

 A goddess appeared without so much as a puff of smoke.

“Yes, Ethan Nakamura?”

“So I may go through this place unhindered by it and remain resistant to powers such as these, I sacrifice the nails on my pinky fingers.” Percy watched in horror as Ethan, through some supernatural aid, tore his fingernails off. They began to bleed heavily as Ethan cried out in pain, then, in a moment, they stopped, the skin smoothing over to scar tissue. “You guys go outside and wait for me, I’ll be fine.” Percy wanted to argue but felt himself walking out. The doorman tried to stop them but he and Grover just kept going till they stood on the street, waiting for Ethan.

Percy couldn’t get the image of Ethan’s blood out of his head as he stood on the sidewalk, staring at a newspaper truck in the setting sunlight. Some tantalizing chip bags were hanging off the stand, and even after the shower, Percy was pretty sure he looked pathetic enough to get free food out of the guy. At the stand though, he paused.

- Break over

The newspapers said it was the nineteenth, although he could have sworn they went into the hotel on the eighteenth and couldn’t have stayed for more than ten minutes or so.

This was not good.

Maybe that girl had been telling the truth when she said she last saw her brother in 1966.

And Ethan was still inside.

Percy wanted to run in and get him, but the sun was low in the sky and that meant they only had a day or so left to complete the quest.

“Grover,” he called urgently. “You need to see this.”

They decided to wait for an hour, more than that and they would be waiting forever. Percy toyed with the key around his neck, waiting.

Grover and Percy were surprised when Ethan ran out of the hotel only twenty minutes later, breath heaving, two bags over his shoulders.

“I have our stuff,” Ethan panted, passing Percy’s bag to him.

“Never do that again, please,” Percy couldn’t succinctly put his feelings into words, he just knew he never wanted to see Ethan hurt like that. “Our bags are not an equal trade for your pain.”

“I can make my own choices,” Ethan lay on the ground, his black hair slicked down by sweat. “Now I know I'll never mess up like that again. We can be safe.”

“Ethan, I messed up too! You don’t owe us because you fell prey to a place made to drag you in and never let you out,” Percy didn’t know what he wanted to do, shake Ethan by the shoulders or never let him go.

“Yeah, and I only learned because someone basically told me,” Grover’s confidence from before seemed gone, back to self-doubt, as he pulled the skin off of an apple with his front teeth. “I’m supposed to be your protector, and even I failed at that, so we only have one day left.”

Ethan shook his head, “no, I have to keep everything balanced. If not I would have owed you guys.”

“Ethan, please,” Percy stared at the scar tissue in his friend’s hands. “Please.”

They decided to call the Hermes cabin, because they were probably all there and because with one day left before the end of the world, Ethan wanted to see his family one last time.

They were really getting their uses out of the crystal Percy had stolen, Percy thought, as they held it up to the setting sun. Ethan tossed the money in. An image of the Hermes cabin flickered into existence.

The Friday night scene played out in front of Percy, Alabaster standing at the front of the cabin, with Emelina, and Butch beside him.

“Percy, this will probably concern you,” Alabaster said. To Ethan, standing on the side, he just smiled. “Ethan, you’ve got this. I believe in you,” his gaze darkened again. “You guys should watch Emelina’s latest dream.”

Butch let the scene play out as Emelina described it, “a dark pit with someone in it, someone old- and hungry. He was talking to someone.”

The pit yawned before Percy, as real as if he’d been in the room. It was like the Iris message was expanding Butch’s power through it. It looked like that crack in the sand between the horse and the eagle, only a thousand times more ancient. The voice within it did not echo, loud as day yet still plainly far away.

“My champion, I trust you know what you’re doing?”

A figure flickered, melting between forms. They looked like everyone at camp combined, like an amalgamation of god and mortal that had never quite settled. “Yes, my lord,” they said, a hundred voices ringing as one.

“The deceptions are going well, then? And they are ready to join our cause?” the voice asked with threats and promises imbued in its very cadence, its tone clear.

“Yes. You are well named, my lord. Soon they will all see what the crooked one can do, what we have done,” the hundred voices spoke, one seeming to pull out stronger than the others. The ever-changing being began to break apart, ghosts and shades escaping leaving a mortal form behind. Percy tried to squint, just about to make out the being's hair, size, anything, but the illusion dissipated.

Lou Ellen’s face was gaunt watching it, but everyone else just seemed scared.

“This isn’t good,” Alabaster said, looking over the cabin. “I suspect this has something to do with Percy’s quest to Hades, the darkest part of the underworld.”

“About the quest,” Percy began. “We’re in Las Vegas, we’re going to try to make it to the underworld but we don’t know for sure if it will work. If it doesn’t, it was nice getting to meet all of you.”

Alabaster looked like he was about to say something, but Butch slammed his hand on the table and both the illusion and the Iris message faded. Percy felt the last of the sunlight burn his back, but when he turned around it was dark. Ethan and Grover stood next to him, looking as scared as he felt.

 So, Hades had a minion doing his bidding, probably waiting for them to arrive.

Then, because Percy couldn’t catch a break, a shriek sounded from around the corner.

  Grover cursed under his breath, “looks like Hades might be waiting for us?”

“He was always waiting,” Ethan said, as the harpy roared down their alleyway. “Look, he even sent a minion.”

The harpy dove at them and Percy scrambled to pull out his sickle. He swept it in an arc, cutting off the harpy's head. It rolled to the ground in front of him, disappearing into dust and leaving only a scattering of feathers behind as a trophy. Ethan reached down to grab one and pricked his finger. A drop of blood ran down it.

Hadn’t Ethan been through enough?

More wings flapped overhead. Percy looked up and Grover pointed two the two circling harpies left in the sky.

“I think we have company,” Grover said, just as another harpy dived at them. This time it was too far away for Percy to reach, so it was Ethan who swung at it, his sword clanging off the metal feathers.

“What’s the plan?” Percy watched the harpy fly back up to the sky gracelessly.

“Try to stay alive,” Ethan shouted, readying his stance for another attack.

It never came.

Instead, the harpies dove in opposite directions. Percy thought they were leaving until he followed their trajectory. They were headed for the mortals.

“We need to split up,” Ethan turned towards where one of the harpies was falling. “The mist might shield mortals from collateral damage, but if a monster seeks a mortal then that’s it.”

Couldn’t he have one peaceful day?

Percy ran to the other harpy, motioning to Grover that he should go with Ethan.

The harpy was perched on the awning of a toy store, with blue trimmed windows stacked high with every toy you could imagine. Percy eyed the mini model of a Grumman LLV, then painfully drew his eyes away. He had a job to do.

The harpy’s upper body was that of a pale blond woman with blue eyes. Her bottom half was that of an eagle made of metal, sharp feathers ready to tear through anything she wanted.  

And what she seemed to want was a child.

The crowd of people milling around was large for dusk. 

A mother and son split off from the crowd of people and began walking towards the shop, Percy could feel the danger in the air as they drew closer. 20 yards, 15 yards, 10 yards, he sprinted, letting his thread unwind. The harpy reached her claws out, plummeting at the child, but Percy’s sickle stopped her just in time.

Percy was showered in gold dust, with a parent and child looking at him like he was insane.

“Mommy, why did he hit that pigeon with a baseball bat?” the child asked.

Whoops.

Percy ran at a normal speed away back towards the alley but paused when he saw a craft fair he was sure he hadn’t seen before. There were tables piled high with wares, but only one stand had people at it.

- Squeamish section break

Three old ladies were knitting一 or trying to knit. It looked like they were trying to make a small hat, or maybe a very large sock, but the thread seemed to be squirming in their hands, twisting and turning.

One of the women tried to cut it but her scissors bounced off of the wriggling thread.

They put the sock down and grabbed another pile of yarn, this one seeming to be pulled by invisible strings. One of the ladies pulled her arm back all the way, scissors gleaming in the light. She plunged them down, snapping the thread. Blood poured from it and then, like a trick of the light, the stand vanished.

- Break over

When Percy walked back to the alleyway he could see Ethan sitting there, his back to the wall. In front of him was a little girl with gray skin, long gray hair, and gray clothes. Her clothes moved like water around her as she laughed.

“Don’t you know you can never turn back?”

Chapter Text

The trio hitchhiked to Los Angeles, a pile of harpy feathers in Ares’ backpack and an unspoken agreement to not talk about Ethan’s visitor.

The ride was long and Percy’s awareness of the roads kept him from dozing. His wariness took up all his energy. The trio was stuffed in the trunk of a car, watching out the back window as the road flew out behind them. The fast movement was calming, the speed settling the things in his bones that needed to always be on the move. When they arrived in LA, the trio went straight to the home supplies store they saw nearby, beds shining alluringly in the windows. Percy, Ethan, and Grover all piled into one of the beds, exhaustion overwhelming them.

When they woke Apollo was just peaking the sun chariot out of the night, the scarcest flickers of light pushing up.

“We should leave,” Grover said, looking behind him. There was nothing there. “I think?”

Ethan nodded in agreement as Percy swiped a hand through his curls, trying to get them to sit in some semi-neat way.

“Let’s find a restroom on the way out,” Percy remembered seeing one when they went into the store, though through his hazy memories it was unclear.

Percy, Ethan, and Grover brought clothes and toothbrushes to the top of their bags and set off.

It took two minutes for them to be lost.

At first, the store seemed normal, with ornate mirrors and sinks sitting together with ottomans, but slowly the sinks and ottomans disappeared, leaving ever larger mirrors until Percy and his friends were trapped in the mirror maze.

“Any chance this is a nice, normal mirror trap?” Grover asked, unhopeful.

Ethan pulled out his sword, wary of anything that might attack. “Can anyone think of a monster who would build a mirror maze?”   

Percy couldn’t, but they didn’t need to wait long to find out.

As the trio rounded a corner, choosing a direction for the fifth or sixth time in the terrible spiraling maze that was built so they couldn’t tell where a fork even was until they ran into a wall.

Percy’s mom had brought him to the circus once, he mainly remembered the sticky cotton candy and the fun he had had picking pockets, but the mirror maze had scared his five-year-old self.

The mirrors seemed to enlarge the scars on Ethan’s fingers, and, as he turned his hand, Percy saw a flash of something on his wrist.

“Do you have a tattoo?” Percy hadn’t seen one on his friend before, had the mirror created it in the image?

“My mother gave me it when I was claimed.” Ethan rotated his hand so his left wrist was up. A set of scales flickered into view, dark ink against pale skin.

Grover eyed it, “that’s… neat.”

Ethan shrugged, “it’s to remind me that the world needs balance and nothing comes without a cost.”

Percy didn’t think Ethan needed to be reminded of that fact. He was already too aware of debts.

As they rounded the corner several men came into sight. Well, one man reflected in mirror after mirror. He was strikingly handsome and looked angry when their reflections moved across his vision. Percy didn’t see the man so much as his mirror image. He was maybe twenty and looked like an athlete, with bright eyes and just slightly mussed hair.

Ethan paused, “I know this one, we’ve had arguments about him at camp!”

“What?”

“Narcissus, there are arguments about whether he was staring because he loved himself and Hera cursed him or because he spurned this guy, Ameinias, who was in love with him and then had Nemesis curse him. It’s fascinating, I’m so excited to get to talk to him.” Ethan’s hands flapped excitedly as he bounced up and down.

“Quiet down, please,” Narcissus said, tracing his cheekbone in the mirror.  “Unless you’re talking about me, of course.”

Percy didn’t trust the man, anyone that pretty can’t be good, but he smiled encouragingly at Ethan anyway.

“So, sir, Mr. Narcissus, why are you staring at the mirrors?”

Narcissus turned his body, his eyes still held on the mirror, “does it matter?”

 “Of course it does,” Ethan looked at Percy and Grover for backup.

Percy felt out of control, Narcissus wasn’t listening and it was too much. He slammed his sickle into the mirror next to narcissus but the man didn’t even blink. Before Ethan or Grover could stop him he hit the mirror directly in front of the man. Percy ignored the desire to run to escape and be free and have his throat stop closing up.

Narcissus finally turned around. His eyes which were so handsome in the mirror were bloodshot and unfocused, deep bags beneath them, deep set in his gaunt face. “The truth is always a mix of things, kid, and what isn’t true can become reality as long as mortals believe.”

The mirror changed to a pool of water on the floor, reflecting blue skies as if from another place, another time. The rest of the mirrors stayed fixed in place, the maze constricting around them.

Narcissus turned back to the pool in front of him, a happier version of himself staring back.

“Did you really spur Ameinias?” Ethan couldn’t let it drop. He turned to Percy again, “according to the myths he called upon my mother as he sacrificed himself.”

“Your mother cursed me?” Narcissus’ eyes turned to them in the reflection on the water. “Did she send you to take it back?”

Ethan grimaced, “no, not exactly. We didn’t even know you were here, I’m just really interested in stories.”

Narcissus slammed his hands next to him, the water shaking, disrupting his image. “So you’ve come to taunt me?” he asked, unblinking eyes fixed on Ethan once more.

“Please,” Grover cut in. “We don't mean any harm.”

“Harm,” a woman’s voice called from somewhere.

Ethan spun round, sword in hand, but no one was there. Percy put his hand on the hilt of his sickle, ready for whatever fight was next.

Narcissus had returned to staring at the water when Percy asked, “do you know who that is?”

“Who,” the voice called.

“Some nymph, Ella or something,” Narcissus told Percy at the same time that Ethan turned to him.

“That’s Echo,” Ethan began bouncing again. “She was cursed by Hera to only repeat what others said, and she was in love with Narcissus, but he felt like she was lying and tricking him in the woods, and then she chased him and then stayed watching him while he was looking in the water, and then her body faded but her spirit remained.”

“Spirit,” Echo’s voice said. Percy watched as the reflection of a woman appeared in the pool of water. She was chubby and tan, dark hair covered by a veil. Unlike Narcissus, who wore clothes reminiscent of the modern day, she looked like she hadn’t changed since the days of ancient Greece. Percy cast his gaze over Narcissus’ reflection. It was hard to see, only the tops of Narcissus' shoulders were reflected, but his athletic shirt reflected back as a chiton. The water reflected a long-ago past.

Narcissus leaned over to hold his face next to his reflection, “she comes and goes.” He gestured lazily towards echo then returned to his staring.

“Come,” Echo pleaded, her reflection appearing in the mirrors all around beckoning to Grover.

“Me?” Grover asked, pointing to himself as Ethan and Percy walked towards Narcissus, sitting down on the hardwood next to the water.

“Me,” Echo nodded. She pointed towards herself all around them, water and mirrors, showing endless copies.

 Grover walked over to the other side of Narcissus. He moved his hand, fist, then pinky finger up, then index pointing to the side, and finally two fingers folded over his thumb. He raised his eyebrows, pointing to Echo. Her eyes were sad, her mouth tight as she did the same movements Grover did.

“So the echo is in place no matter what language I communicate in?” Grover asked.

“No matter what,” Echo replied.

 “Why did you call me over, what about me is what you need? I’m just a satyr.”

“Satyr,” Echo looked like she wanted to nod, moving her head fast in tiny movements, equivalent to the ones someone naturally did while talking. Even in her movements, she could only repeat.

“You’re a nymph, but you’re trapped in this store?” Grover guessed.

“Trapped.”

“If Pan was here, he could fix this,” Grover looked towards the sky as if the god would descend from there.

“Fix this.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, I don’t know what to do.”

“Can’t,” Echo echoed, turning and disappearing in the water.

While Grover had been talking with Echo, Percy and Ethan were sitting with Narcissus.

“Why do things look different in the water?” Percy asked. “Like, you’re in a chiton and there are blue skies.”

“It restores things to their true form. You can see yourself as you should be and if you splash the water on yourself it will restore you to that.”

“Why don’t you splash some on yourself?” Ethan asked. Then added, “also, how is it that the water was a mirror?”

Percy looked from the gaunt face of Narcissus to the handsome youth in the reflection.

“If I splashed it on my face then I couldn’t see myself,” Narcissus seemed confused by the very question. “The mirrors are the water in the same way we are in Greece, the same way I am still staring at my beauty.”

Grover filled his water bottle from the pool, shrugging when Ethan shot him a questioning look. “It could come in handy to have something that makes us our most full selves, and maybe use it in my search or something. Satyr’s state should be close to Pan,” he trailed off.

The trio reviewed the address on the business card they had taken from Medusa. DOA Records was said to only be a few blocks away, but they wanted to gather themselves before going down to the underworld.

Percy sat next to Ethan on a park bench, Grover on Ethan’s other side. Grover stared at the ground, kicking a hole in the dirt.

“What was that, what you did with your hands when you were talking to Echo?” Percy tried to imitate the hand gestures, failing miserably.

“It was..’” Grover looked at Ethan and then back at Percy. “It was American Sign Language, I learned it because of a friend. A lot of kids at camp are autistic and so some have trouble with words. That’s where ASL comes in. It’s mainly taught during July and August so we’ll be back in time for you to add it to your schedule if you want, it’s really useful. It’s funny, despite camp teaching it, I learned while out in the real world— I had always been too busy with protector stuff and looking for more half-bloods but when I was bringing some kids back one time the older of the three taught it to us.”

“That’s cool,” It would be nice to be able to communicate without people hearing.

“Camp lets a lot of people be themselves by having accommodations. You can just be your true self,” Ethan added.

“What do you think your truest form is?” Grover said. He was still looking down at the dirt but he tilted his head to Ethan.

“Maybe at camp,” Ethan looked away as he spoke. “Maybe on this quest,” he added quickly. “Percy, what about you?” he kicked some dirt into the hole Grover’s shoes had dug.

“With my mom.” Percy had no hesitation. “Wh- when she gets home you guys can see,” he tried not to shake on the when. “I wasn’t the easiest kid, but every time she’d get a call from a school telling her that something had happened and I’d been accused of cheating at games or whatever, she wouldn’t be mad. School could never catch me, anyway. She jumps between jobs a lot. The places she works keep crashing and burning, but she always handles it with such a good spirit. She makes the best masoub in the whole world! Masoub is like a banana honey bread pudding and awesome. Her hugs are the best, but the greatest thing about her is I never feel like I’m being squashed into a box or something. She never judges me for things, sometimes I steal something from a business I know can’t afford the loss, like I don’t want to steal from them and regret it, but it’s just this itch. And she’d always go put that stuff back for me or go with me to be support. She’d watch movies with me and she never judged me for crying at them.” Percy hesitated, even though Grover and Ethan were the closest friends he’d ever had. He wasn’t sure about what he was going to say next. “And when I got mad at things and destroyed stuff or ran away from things and hid she would always be there for me when I got back.”

“She sounds great,” Ethan turned his hand over, staring at the scales that flickered into view. “Did you have to do things in exchange?” he shrunk in on himself as he said it like he knew the answer but still needed to ask.

“No.”

“What about you, Grover,” Percy leaned around Ethan to look at his oldest friend. “When are you at your truest self?”

“When I’m in nature,” Grover began. “I think my parents were a little like your mom Percy, but satyr parents tend to be more hands-off at a certain age, and they both left to search for Pan. It’s like we all have this hole in us, where nature is being destroyed and everything is so out of control like a piece is forever missing.” He drew his legs up, hugging them just where the fur started.

“Want a hug?” Percy asked, and Grover nodded. Percy leaned over Ethan to hug Grover, and then Grover reached his arm around Ethan until the three were hugging.

This could be the last time they got to do such a thing.

“We should call the Hermes cabin before…” Grover raised his hands and waved them around to show the nebulous ‘before’ of going to Hades. He kicked the ground again, dirt spraying out of the hole he had dug.

“Yeah.”

As they got up to call their friends Ethan added, “Grover learned ASL for me, originally. Alabaster taught us. Can I call him alone for just this first bit?”

Percy and Grover sat around the corner, leaning against each other.

“I’m glad I got this year of being your friend,” Grover said.

“We’ll be okay.” Percy tried to say it with more confidence than he felt. “But you’ve been my first real friend and amazing and spending all those days after school with you was awesome. We’ll get more years. Eternity, maybe,” his eyes welled up and he brushed the tears away.

Despite his back being against the wall, and despite the fact the morning sun was still low in the sky, Percy felt his back warm.

Ethan came around the corner, his eyes red. “Alabaster and Thomas have important news.”

The Iris message was following behind Alabaster and Thomas as Percy rounded the corner, the Hermes cabin coming into view. Campers having breakfast were visible up the hill behind them.

“I got to say things to everyone at our table,” Ethan explained, “but now they have something that we need privacy for.”

Percy watched as Alabaster pulled out a whiteboard that read ‘Thomas.’ On it was random lines written with quotes on them. To his surprise, he noted “made yours secrets found” at the bottom of the list.

“I can see bits of prophecy, but they’re all past ones.” Thomas began, running his hands through his short spiky hair, a lot of the time they’re useless or we can’t tell if they’re from a decade ago or a hundred years, but this one seems relevant.” He closed his eyes in concentration, a faint glow surrounding him. “new age instated, the lightning thief returns home. At least, I think that’s how it’s broken up.”

A new age? Percy tried to roll it over in his head. The lightning thief… who could that be? All he knew was it wasn’t him.

“I don’t know what it could mean, I’m sorry.” Thomas looked downtrodden. “We’ve been trying to brainstorm the ending to that second line.”

“What?” Percy asked. Behind him he could see Grover slide down against the wall, curling into a ball.

“Prophecies tend to rhyme,” Alabaster explained. “I’m thinking the line is ‘the lightning thief returns to camp, elated,’ and hopefully, it would be counting you as the thief and is saying you’ll be okay.”

Percy wasn’t sure what to think- if the prophecy was from years ago then it might not even be about the quest, but a glimpse of hope was something warm and burning, searing away his fears.

“You guys will do great,” Alabaster held his arms out like he was going to hug the Iris message. “Ethan, I love you. You’re the greatest brother I could ask for.”

The Iris message dissipated.  

The trio began the walk to the underworld, bustling city streets full of people, most of whom would not soon be in Hades.

Dead On Arrival Recording Studios had a brightly lit lobby, packed to the brim with people. On the glass doors, Percy could read the sign saying “No solicitors. No loitering. No living.”

"What’s the plan again?” Grover asked.

" Don’t die.”

" Great plan, Percy.”

Percy tried to not have nervousness exit from every pore as he gave Grover his best smile. “We go in there, we talk to Hades. Best case scenario he gives us the bolt and brings us to Olympus, worst case scenario we die and don’t have to worry about the war anymore.”

    Ethan grabbed Percy’s hand and squeezed once before dropping it. They pushed through the doors into the lobby of death.

    Music played softly on hidden speakers, bouncing around the large room. The carpet, walls, and people were all gray. There were cactus plants in the corners of the room, but they looked more like human bones than cacti. There were no places someone could lie down, only individual chairs. The furniture was covered with black leather, probably a few hundred seats, all taken. People were standing up too, staring out the windows or just blankly into space. A few of them were talking to themselves but their words didn’t sound like words, they sounded like gibberish. No one moved, talked, or even shifted around in their seats. Everyone seemed normal if Percy caught them in the corner of his eye, but if he looked at them they were transparent, just a wisp of a soul. He looked away.

    In the bright lights, his friends looked washed out too. Grover looked ashy and his skin had almost a blue tinge. Ethan looked slightly red, maybe from the crying he had been doing.

Percy’s hands were shaking slightly as they walked up to the podium at the end of the room. It was raised so their eyes naturally went there, the security guard standing attentively.

He had ebony skin and short bleached braids. He wore tortoiseshell shades and a silk Italian suit that matched his hair. A black rose was pinned to his lapel under a silver name tag.

“Does that say Chiron?” Percy whispered to Ethan. Was this yet another trick or disguise from Chiron? This was a little more complicated than a wheelchair that hid a horse half.

“Maybe?” Ethan whispered back. “Grover, what does his name tag say?”

“Charon,” the security guard said. “And I’d appreciate it if you little children stopped whispering about me and came over. Do you have payment? If not then you should take a seat.” He gestured around the filled waiting room, his smile like that of a cat as it toyed with a mouse. “And, it’s Mr. Charon to you.”

“Mr. Charon,” Percy repeated, mind moving fast.

“That’s right,” Charon leaned back like he had all the time in the world, his suit pressed and stiff. “I don’t think I look like a centaur, do I?”

“No,” Ethan said, then added, “sir.”

“Thank you.” Charon seemed genuinely pleased by that.

Percy shot a look to his friends that he hoped conveyed ‘follow my lead.’ He reached down into his bag subtly and grabbed a coin. He moved his mouth as if he was yawning and brought his hand up, the coin concealed in it. The metal was cool and bitter. He walked up to Charon.

“I’d like admittance to the land of the dead please,” he said around the coin.

“You?” Charon laughed. “I don’t suppose you have coins for passage. Normally, with adults, you see, I could charge your American Express, or add the ferry price to your last cable bill. But with children… alas, you never die prepared. Suppose you’ll have to take a seat for a few centuries.” Charon looked bored as he said it. “How did you die?”

“Fell off a cliff,” Percy said, thinking of the lava wall at camp. “And we have payment.” He opened his mouth to show the coin, pressing coins into Ethan and Grover’s hands as he did so.

“Well, well, well.” Percy pulled the coin out of his mouth and saw it was a drachma. “That is a different story.” Charon stood up, the spirits in the waiting room all standing to attention, whispers of unintelligible words floating around.

As Charon moved around the desk he paused. “Are you three demigods?” He sniffed the air as though their godly smell steamed up from them like a warm bun at a bakery. The spirits in the room began moving more frantically, lighting ghost cigarettes and running their hands through their hair. A low growl came from the back of Chiron’s throat and it took everything Percy had to not look for an exit.

Instead, he said, “what’s a demigod?”

Chiron’s expression shifted, the growl stopping, replaced by an amused face. The spirits returned to their unbothered state. “Ah, so you’re one of the ones who die before they know. How did you fall off the cliff? A harpy or some such?”

Percy put on his most innocent face. “We were all roped together and climbing for a camp exercise when these giant birds swooped at us. One cut through our rope and we fell,” he brought tears to his eyes.

Grover nodded, “Um, I was sent to look for half-bloods, but I’m a terrible protector.” It wasn’t the most convincing lie ever but it would have to do.

Percy pulled on his string, wrapping it around his sickle and his friend’s weapons. It was a trick he figured out young, if you concentrated enough adults' eyes would just skim over things they didn’t want to see.

Charon sighed. “The boat’s almost full, anyway. I might as well add you three and be off.” He stood, scooped up their money, and said, “Come along.” They pushed through the crowd of waiting spirits, who started grabbing at their clothes like the wind, their voices whispering things Percy couldn’t make out.

Charon shoved them out of the way, grumbling, “Freeloaders.” Which seemed a little harsh to Percy. They didn’t ask to die, after all.

Charon escorted the trio into the elevator, which was already crowded with souls of the dead, each one holding a green boarding pass. He grabbed two spirits who were trying to get on and pushed them back into the lobby.

“Right. Now, no one get any ideas while I’m gone,” Charon announced to the waiting room. “And if anyone moves the dial off my easy-listening station again, I’ll make sure you’re here for another thousand years. Understand?” A thousand years, Percy couldn’t even imagine that amount of time but for Charon it was nothing.

Charon shut the doors and put a key card into a slot in the elevator panel. It began to descend.

“What happens to the people in the lobby?” Percy asked.

“Nothing,” Charon said.

“For how long?” Was it really a thousand years?  

“Forever, or until I’m feeling generous.”

Ethan nodded, “that’s why you need to make sure your debts are paid.”

Charon smiled at that, “You’re probably a Nemesis kid, aren’t you? I’ve had a good number of souls passed my way from her, but not many of her kids since the seventies or so.”

They rode in silence for a minute, or as silent as the undead indecipherable whispers could be.

“Has any soul ever made it out of the underworld?” Percy asked.

“No dead ones, and no living children,” Charon smiled. “Don’t worry, the Fields of Asphodel will be nice enough.”

“Asphodel?” Percy could remember hearing the word before, but he didn’t know what it meant.

“It’s where almost everyone goes,” Charon explained. “There are the Fields of Punishment for people who were especially bad and Elysium for people who were especially good, but most people are smack dab in the middle. The fields are nice, wander around, and don’t think too much.”

Percy felt a stab of pity for their fictional personas, kids who would spend their eternity doing nothing just because they never had a chance to be great.

Suddenly, Percy felt dizzy. The ride wasn’t going down- it was going forwards. The air got misty and cold. All around Percy, spirits started changing shape. Their modern clothes flickered, turning into grey hooded robes. The floor of the elevator began swaying. Percy blinked hard.

When he opened his eyes, Charon’s creamy Italian suit had been replaced by a long black robe. His tortoiseshell glasses were gone. Where his eyes should’ve been were empty sockets – like Ares’s eyes, except Charon’s were totally dark, full of night and death and despair.

The despair concentrated on Percy, Ethan, and Grover as Charon glared at them. Percy realized their clothes hadn’t changed, leaving them the odd ones out.

“Now, why,” Charon said leisurely, “are you three very much not dead?”

Chapter Text

The ghosts in the elevator grew agitated as Charon began to growl again. Their nails seemed to lengthen to talons. Percy tried to think fast, panic infusing his veins.

“We’re-” he flashed back to the office building. Clipboards made people seem official, right? Percy reached into his bag and pulled out the clipboard. “We’re auditors, and I can’t believe it took you this long to realize we’re living.” Percy shook his head, trying to not have the rest of his body shake with it.

Charon continued growling like a predator standing over prey, “you three seem young to be auditors.”

“We are young, Charon,” Grover had never told a convincing lie in his life, but Percy prayed to the only god he could think of, his father, and hoped with all his might that Charon would fall for it. “But demigods don’t live very long, and satyrs age slower.”

Ethan nodded, “you guessed right, I am a son of Nemesis. Who’s better to make sure the underworld is moving smoothly than someone who understands checks and balances?”

Charon didn’t look convinced so Percy reached inside himself and tugged. “Really, you’re terrible at your job. I think we will be talking to Hades about your replacement,” Percy tried to look as bored as he could while panicking.

Charon was still keeping up a mask of not caring, but Percy pushed the way Apollo had, willing the lie into a vision of truth. Finally, Charon said, “then I suppose you three won’t mind if I bring you over to Hades’ palace.”

Percy didn’t even have time for his mind to race when Ethan stepped in, “we won’t mind, but the boss will. Do you really want us to explain to Hades that you wasted his time like this?” Ethan laughed then, the second time Percy had ever heard him do so. “If we weren’t already going to suggest you get some oversight at least, that would be the cherry on top.”

Around them, the elevator walls began to fuzz out until they were going forward in a wooden barge. Charon was poling across a dark, oily river, swirling with bones, dead fish, and other, stranger things – plastic dolls, crushed carnations, soggy diplomas with gilt edges.

Percy looked down at the polluted waters, “I hope you weren’t the one in charge of keeping the river clean.”

Charon scowled, his mask fully breaking. “For thousands of years, you humans have been throwing in everything as you come across – hopes, dreams, wishes that never came true. Irresponsible waste management, if you ask me. I don’t choose for everything to go into it!”

Mist curled off the filthy water. Above the boat, almost lost in the gloom, was a ceiling of stalactites. Ahead, the far shore glimmered with greenish light, the color of poison.

Percy’s throat closed with panic. He should not be here. This was the place of the dead. They didn’t even have a backup plan, just the hope they could run out the same way that they’d come. This was a suicide mission. Percy sent a quick prayer to Hermes. Thank you for being my father.

The shoreline of the Underworld came into view. Craggy rocks and black volcanic sand stretched inland about fifty meters to the base of a high stone wall, which marched off in either direction as far as the eye could see. A sound came from somewhere nearby in the green gloom, echoing off the stones – the howl of a large animal.

“Old Three-Face is hungry,” Charon said. His smile turned skeletal in the greenish light. “As is Styx.”

The river did seem to be lapping unusually, water reaching up like tongues licking the boat, trying to slurp it down. Ethan shifted nervously as Charon laughed with glee. “Styx did always love children of Nemesis.”

For a moment Percy could have sworn he saw a little girl in a dress made of rushing water, her skin gray, but Styx disappeared as quickly as he could blink. 

“When you reach Cerberus, greet him for me. I’ll let you children go and play pretend, you won’t leave the land of the dead anyway. Good luck,” Charon said as the boat slid onto the black sand and the dead began to disembark. “Tyche has no reach down here.”

Percy got off with his friends, watching the dead. A woman holding a little girl's hand. An old man and an old woman hobbling along arm in arm. A boy no older than seven, shuffling silently along in his gray robe. Percy missed his mom more than he could ever measure. He wanted her to hold his hand like the woman held the girl’s, hug him and tell him everything will be okay. He missed the way she smelled and the way she talked and he wanted his mom back. He had to find her. He would. 

The spirits began moving down a well-worn path as if on an invisible conveyer belt. Percy, Ethan, and Grover followed them. What else could they do?

A few spirits split off, floating down to a wispy white pool.

“Lethe,” Ethan whispered. “Where you go to reincarnate.”

A giant black archway stood before them, radiating cold. Percy shivered and saw his friends doing the same. Grover’s dark skin was the color of a dead plant, green and muddy yellow. Ethan looked a little grayer but still mostly the same. Percy didn’t want to know what he looked like, he felt like death.

“Are you okay, Grover?” Ethan asked, holding his hand up to Grover’s forehead like he was checking for a temperature.

“Satyrs aren’t meant for the land of the dead. When we die we turn into plants, we don’t have souls in the same way demigods and mortals do. None of us are supposed to go here.” Grover gestured to the lines, “we’re nature incarnate, we can’t be judged.”

Percy looked at the lines the spirits were falling into.

They were short, one of the three had almost no one in it. It was labeled “EZ Death.”

Ethan followed Grover’s gaze as well, “asphodel. That’s the worst place a demigod can be sent.”

“That’s where Charon said we would go when he thought we were dead.”

Grover shuddered, “wandering forever in dead plants, sounds like a nightmare.”

“They forget who they are,” Ethan added. “forget everything.”

Grover’s face dropped somehow, a look of horror greater than even his reaction to the underworld. “I could have splashed the water on Echo.”

“What?”   

“Ethan said about losing who you are and I remembered the water that restored things to their true form,” Grover kicked the dusty gray ground. “She wanted help and I failed. I’m a terrible protector.”

“You’re not,” Percy began. “And I think we’re starting to stick out.”

The ghosts in the other two lines seemed to face them as they moved at a crawl. Their arches read Attendant On Duty.

“That must be the line to be judged. In the myths, Minos was the only judge, but they’ve branched out since then. I think it’s a revolving group from Elysium who’s picked like the Athenian government. Everyone there is eligible and can be called for one year. They can only be called twice in a century or two. They have a jury like in Athens but only 15 instead of 500 or 1500 people.” Ethan shrugged, “I really tried to pay attention during that class but then the party ponies showed up.”

“Party ponies?” Percy mouthed at Grover, who just smiled.

In the center of it all was the elephant in the room. Or rather, the elephant-sized cat in the room.

The lines went under Cerberus’ massive paws, with the EZ Death line walking straight down the middle.

Cerberus didn’t look like Percy had expected. For one thing, he was pretty sure the myths listed Cerberus as a dog, and he didn’t remember the serpent tail or the snakes along his back. Weren’t snakes supposed to scare cats? 

“Why is Cerberus a cat?” he whispered to Ethan.

“Cerberus was changing with the centuries, went from fifty heads to three, and I think Lord Hades went into a cat phase?” Ethan shrugged. “I’ve always liked cats anyways.”

Percy did not like the giant cat that looked like it would kill him.

The cat was misty at first but he began seeming more solid as they got closer.

“Why is he getting clearer?” Percy wanted to keep talking to keep his mind off of the reality of the situation.

This time, it was Grover who answered, “it’s because you’re getting closer to death.”

“So, what should we do to get through this? I think the best option might be to keep up the ruse.” Percy suggested. He opened and shut the clip of the clipboard.

Ethan stood up and Percy realized his friend’s height wasn’t just from the hunching. Percy hadn’t seen it before but Ethan was shorter than him. He made a note to tease Ethan about it if—when—they got out.

Grover squared his shoulder too, even as Percy could see him trembling, “we’ve got this.”

The middle cat’s head turned towards them, sniffing the air. It growled.

Grover sighed, “he’s saying… well there isn’t quite a human equivalent. It’s as if exclamation points were angry.”

“You can talk to Cerberus?”

“Satyr powers,” Grover said, as Cerberus looked hungrier and hungrier. “He’s saying, Intruders .” Grover hissed the word.

“Can you tell him we’re just here to look over records?” Ethan suggested. “We should go through the attendant on duty entrances, the ghosts can wait a little longer. 

Grover made some noises that were a combination of meows and hisses. Cerberus considered him and then batted one of the souls in the EZ Death line. The man screamed like a deflating balloon as Cerberus pounced on him, dissipating into the air. 

Percy followed Ethan as he walked around the Attendant on Duty lines and entered a doorway reading “Jurors.”

They were in a great stone circular chamber, with fifty spirits sitting in high seats next to them. In the middle of the chamber was a woman, talking to the jury.

“Knowing the risks I chose to love and raise my son, Athena said it wouldn’t be easy but I sacrificed everything I could for him. I tried to save him. On top of that my scientific contributions were numerous and life-saving, pioneering ways to diagnose infections faster and cheaper. I spent my life trying to do good in the world, even before I learned about the afterlife.” The woman was crying silently, yet her face was composed.

The jury began talking among themselves. Percy shot a glance at Ethan and Grover. They didn’t have all day. Well, they had all day but that included facing Hades and getting the bolt back.

Luckily, the jury didn’t take long before they started walking in a line towards two jugs Percy hadn’t seen earlier. They all put tokens in, one in the first jug, the two in the second. When they finished they sat down again.

A scoreboard appeared and began tallying up. One side was counting “Elysium,” one counting “Asphodel,” and one counting “Punishment.” When it finished the board had nine for Elysium and six for Asphodel. The woman gave a grateful sob as a door opened on the other side, a green path visible leading to a beautiful island.

Percy watched the mom walk off. When his mom died someday she’d go there, but she couldn’t be there now. He would get his mom back. 

The jury looked over at Percy and his friends.

“Who are you three? We have all the jurors for the year,” asked a person with short pink hair.

Percy waved his clipboard, trying to act self-important. “We’re auditors,” he began, “just checking to make sure everything is going as it should.”

The jury was much more susceptible to deception than Charon. The pink-haired person gestured towards a door across the stands,” come to the records room?”

The trio followed the line of jurors filing into the new room. It was a combination of a teahouse and a library, with thick volumes on all the shelves, and a giant open book in the center of the room.

“I’m Alex,” said the pink-haired person. “Here’s where we enter everyone into the database. You’re welcome to have a look through it after we enter Emma Brown.”

Percy watched as Alex grabbed a fancy quill pen and dipped it in ink before writing neatly, ‘Emma Brown - Elysium.” The ink sunk into the book and vanished. Alex pointed to a bar at the top, “this is where you can search things. We have everyone in the Greek underworld, it’s not as many as it once was but hey, makes the people who come even more special. His mom would be in it”

“Who comes through?” Percy asked as he and Ethan walked to the book.

“Besides demigods, it’s mostly a few pagans and demigods’ parents and friends.”  

Percy’s vision was blurred as he typed, ‘Sally Jackson.’ 

“No matches,” the page read, and Percy could have laughed for joy. Wherever his mom was, she was still alive. He could still find her.

Ethan clicked the little search bar and typed in a name. Percy walked over to see the page reading, “Makoto Nakamura, no matches.”

Ethan shook his head as he passed the book to Percy, “figures he wouldn’t be dead.”

Alex cocked their head, “looking for a parent?”

Parent. Percy motioned for Ethan to move and help Grover while he went to the book, “what does it do if it finds someone?” He began typing. May Castellan.

“Bring the papers to you!”

Grover nodded sickly, “you all are doing a great job.”

The book showed one match. ‘Special Request.’

Alex peered over Percy’s shoulder, “oh that’s a fun answer! That means one of the higher-ups decided for them.” An envelope shot out  

    “Neat!” Ethan said, lying poorly.

Percy’s heart was in his mouth as he pulled the envelope open, breaking the crisp wax seal shaped like the burn on Percy’s wrist.

The message inside read: May Castellan, age 30, Fields of Punishment.

Apollo had lied.

Percy tried Luke Castellan.

No matches.

Percy was in a slight daze as they bid the jurors farewell and began the walk through the underworld. Hades’ palace loomed above everything, but the road Percy, Ethan, and Grover were on seemed to go right through everything. To the right was an endless field of dead grass, millions of people just wandering around on it. To the left, Percy could see the path to Elysium, a beautiful green place with houses from all times, clustered around centers and parks. There was a train that gleamed, and even from far away, he could hear the laughter. He hoped Emma Brown got to see her son there. In the center of it was a beautiful lake with a tiny island.

“What’s the island for?” Percy asked, his voice seeming too loud while also being swallowed by the giant cavern.

“The Isles of the Blessed,” Grover looked wistfully at them. “It’s where you go if you reincarnate three times and achieve Elysium each time.”

It was smaller than the Fields of Punishment and a grain of sand compared to the Fields of Asphodel.

Percy could hear the screams and saw the horror, the Fields of Punishment. He could see people dying horrible deaths, over and over. He thought he could see Sisyphus' hill.

“There are actually all sorts of new punishments that have been made!” Ethan bounced slightly. “There aren’t a ton of people being sent to the Fields anymore since Hades’ realm is only for people who know about the gods but some parents do end up there. A hundred years or so ago a guy became super rich and had a baby with Tyche, but he hoarded all his wealth so when he died they made him work until he earned the amount of money he had, but he was working for what he paid his workers and keeps having to pay for rent and bills and medical care and so will never reach close to that level of wealth!” he beamed at Percy, forgetting, for a moment, that they were close to death. It made Percy feel warmer inside, a little more at peace seeing Ethan happy.

“It said Luke Castellan had no matches,” Percy began.

Grover inhaled, “Holy Enchiladas.”

Ethan stuck his tongue out and bit it, “that is not good.” He opened and closed his hands. 

“I know,” Percy said.

“Is he alive then?” Ethan asked. 

Grover tapped his foot, “I don’t know if we want to find out.”

They kept walking, soon the Fields and Elysium were replaced by the endless land of Asphodel. Percy noticed the color slowly draining from his clothes, the spirits beginning to thin.

There was Hades’ palace, closer now. Above it Percy could see the furies and harpies circling, looking for prey.

Percy felt like someone had grabbed the back of his shirt, he shot towards Hades’ palace and saw Ethan shooting beside him, Grover running after them. He thought they were going to crash into the palace but they veered sharply to the right. The air grew colder.

Percy and Ethan shot into a cave, with thick black walls and stalagmites. Percy hit some of them. He’d have bruises if he lived till tomorrow.

The tunnel got darker and colder, Grover panting as he ran to catch them. He’d ditched his backpack on the road. The tunnel smelled like blood spilled on an ancient stone altar, the foul breath of a murderer.

The tunnel widened into a huge dark cavern, and in the middle was a chasm the size of a city block.

It was the place from Emelina’s dreams, the pit of evil.

Ethan grabbed onto a stalactite and Percy grabbed him, holding on. Percy could see Ethan’s back now, a golden rectangle shaped like a playing card with some design Percy couldn’t make out, pulling him.

“Grover, there’s something on our backs,” Percy managed to shout. Grover stared at them then waved his hand between Percy’s back and the golden mark. The movement caused Ethan’s hands to slip and Percy and Ethan flew to the pit. They scrambled on the ground as they flew. Percy sailed over the edge, grabbing Ethan as he flew. Percy grabbed the edge as Grover ran over. The tugs on their backs lessened, disappearing into the air.

Percy made the mistake of looking down at the pit. It looked endless and hungry. He begged his hands not to slip, Ethan to be able to hold on. He heard whispering coming from the pit, something too ancient for a mouth, calling to them. He flapped with his wings but it was like he was caught in quicksand.

Grover reached over the edge and hauled Percy up. Percy pulled Ethan, flapping his wings as hard as he could without sending strong gusts of wind back at Ethan. Finally they popped out, force throwing them five yards and three feet from the pit.

“This is the entrance to Tartarus,” Ethan said, voice shaky. Percy unsheathed his sickle, the dark blade cutting through the whispers. As though the voice was surprised. He turned.

The room began to fill with warm wind as they tried to exit like the great pit was breathing in. Percy clung fast to a rock and to Ethan’s hand. If he was going to die he wanted his friends with him.

Grover pulled Ethan who pulled Percy, struggling out of the cave. Percy felt sure they wouldn’t make it until they collapsed outside

The three of them panted on the side for a second before leaving the cave.

Outside the cave they lay on the ground, exhausted.

“Those were Alabaster’s cards,” Ethan said. “Why were those Alabaster's cards?”

“On your backs?” Grover checked. He grabbed his backpack. “What was that in there, another test from Hades?”

Ethan looked torn between being excited and terrified, “I hope I’m wrong.”  He refused to say more on the subject.

Grover pulled some dried fruit out of his bag, “we will be okay.” He tried to sound sure but Percy could see he was shaking.

Whatever was in that pit was nobody’s test. It was unspeakably old and powerful. Even Sol, the sun dragon, hadn’t given Percy that feeling. He was almost relieved to turn his back on that tunnel and head towards the palace of Hades.

They walked for a while more before they reached the enormous, black and gold palace Furies circled the parapets, high in the gloom. The outer walls of the fortress glittered black, and the two-story-tall bronze gates stood wide open.

Ethan pointed and Percy saw that the engravings on the gates were scenes of death. Some were from modern times but all of them looked as if they’d been etched into the bronze thousands of years ago.

“Prophecies,” Ethan whispered. “Olympus has carvings like this but of achievements, they balance each other.”

One of the images looked like camp half-blood, lightning raining down on it. Percy looked away.

In the courtyard was a strange array of plants. Multicolored mushrooms, poisonous shrubs, and weird luminous plants growing without sunlight. Precious jewels made up for the lack of flowers, piles of rubies as big as a fist, clumps of raw diamonds. Standing here and there like frozen party guests were Medusa’s garden statues, petrified children, satyrs, and centaurs, all smiling grotesquely.

In the center of the garden was an orchard of pomegranate trees, their orange blooms neon bright in the dark. “The garden of Persephone,” Ethan said.

The tart smell of the pomegranates was almost overwhelming. Percy wanted to eat them, wanted to crack one open, and crunch the blood-red seeds with their bone-white pits. Grover started to wander towards them too but Ethan grabbed them.

“What’s going on guys?”

“Don’t you want them?” Grover gestured towards the beautiful fruits.

“No,” Ethan looked down at his hands. The scars on his fingers glowed. “It must be some sort of mind-bending. Remember Persephone?”

Percy did, Hades had asked her father’s permission and spirited her away, common for Greek marriages. Her mother, Demeter, had wanted her back so badly that she stopped the growth of the world. Hermes had gone to bring Persephone back but she had already accepted Hades’ hospitality, eaten his food, and accepted her role as a guest. She went between the upper world and the underworld, now.

Percy managed to pull himself away and followed Ethan, grabbing his friend’s hand for strength. Grover was hobbling slightly, “should have brought my crutches, my bag feels like it weighs a ton.”

They walked up the steps of the palace, between black columns, through a black marble portico, and into the house of Hades. The entry hall had a polished bronze floor, which seemed to boil in the reflected torchlight. There was no ceiling, just the cavern roof, far above.

Soldiers stood in front of the doors. Some were Greek hoplites, armor, and large square shields protecting the skeleton on their right. Others were British redcoats or soldiers from the American Civil war.

The furies landed in front of Percy, Ethan, and Grover. Their feathers and claws were even worse than Percy had remembered in the light of the underworld. In their home territory, the furies seemed to glow with fire. Ethan rubbed Percy’s wrist where his burn scar was, then dropped his hand.

Percy’s anger bubbled up and he unsheathed his sickle. The furies hissed when they saw it.

“Boy, do you know what you hold?” asked the leader, the one with black and white feathers hissed.

“A gift from a god.” Percy tensed in preparation to strike.

The fury laughed, a rough cawing sound. “You do not even know the name of the weapon you hold,”

Percy thought back to what Hermes had said when he gave the sickle to him. “The sickle was used by the original Perseus and by Zeus,” Percy wasn’t a little kid, he knew things! “I also carry Anaklusmos.”

The other furies joined in the terrible cawing laughter, “a weapon you are not fit to use and a weapon whose truth you do not know, go on then, demigod, go play hero before you meet your doom.”

Percy swung his sickle but the fury dodged out of the way, taking flight with her sisters.

The skeleton soldiers didn’t react, just watching from their gaping eye-sockets.

Inside the palace of Hades, there were three hallways. The middle one was the largest, giant bronze double doors.

On either side of the entry, there were hallways filled with doors. Percy turned down the left one, he needed a few minutes to cool off before he spoke with Hades. The key around his neck felt like it was pulling him, gentler than Alabaster's cards but a pull nevertheless.

It pulled him past closed doors, plaques in ancient Greek linear B displaying their purpose. Accounting, Business, Crab Rave (Percy wasn’t sure what that one was about), Death, and there! Exit through Trophy Chamber. The key pointed to the thick black door.

“Maybe Ares wasn’t so bad after all,” Percy remarked, as Ethan and Grover caught up with him.

Ethan tested the door, “it’s locked. Percy, do your thing.”

Percy pulled his lockpicks out of his bag and inserted two into the door. He kept the pressure on and moved the pins, seeing them in his mind as he moved them. The door swung slightly open.

“Now we have an exit plan!” They were so close, Percy could feel it. He tugged the key off his neck, it strained towards the door. He put it in Ares’ bag instead, picking it up.

“Wow, Grover, this is heavy.” Percy almost dropped the bag, “how many tin cans did you pack?”

“Not many-” Grover started before flapping wings were heard. Percy grabbed his friends and ran, letting his thread out just enough to give him a boost. He stood in the hall to Hades’ chamber when the furies circled back down, soldiers blocking an exit.

“Half-bloods, enter. And be prepared to explain why you carry weapons to end the world as we know it,” Hades’ voice boomed as the doors swung open.

Chapter Text

Hades didn’t look like any other god Percy had seen. Hermes, Apollo, and Styx had all been human-sized. Hades towered above them, lounging on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther, dark eyes watching them. 

There was no way to describe him besides godlike, ten feet tall with skin like the darkest soil. His skin flickered with muted red and purple and blue like the shadows of bruises and his hair was in braids with gold rings and gold braided throughout. Gemstones hung from his ears, with yellow diamonds nestled at the top of them. He had bracelets up his arms till they reached his dark robes fit for a king. He radiated power.

Hades was the master of all humans, eventually. Percy could feel it in his aura, he wanted to kneel, to bow his head. He could see Grover inclining as well. Ethan stood unaffected before the final god of all living things. 

Percy knelt, giving into the urge and his better judgment. On the other side of Ethan, Grover did the same, dropping his backpack. The bag thudded like a bowling ball and Hades’ attention shifted to it.

“You are either very brave or very stupid to come here with that,” Hades said the sentence as a truth, not with the shining light of Apollo trying to permeate everything, but with the eventuality of the ground knowing what your body tastes like.

“I just want you to return the bolt to us so we can stop this war,” Percy tried to be convincing, but truths had never been his strong suit. 

Hades laughed, dark and hollow, “an amusing game you try to play, son of lies. Now, answer this for me: Why should I not smite you on the spot?” his voice echoed around the cavern.

“A war between the gods will only cause harm to the world,” Percy began. “I know you want your kingdom to grow but this would mean no more people ever.” It felt like a lame finish.

Ethan nodded, “my Lord, we can make this right.”

The cavern shook, gems and metals protruding out from the sides and roof like spikes. The ground too gained teeth.

“You dare keep up the pretense,” Hades roared, “after all that you have done. You might have your story but I see through you. It was no coincidence that a son of a broken oath, a liar, and a thief, appeared when the symbols of power were taken. You claim I wish to start this war. Why would I need war when everyone will die eventually?  Now,  if you return my helmet and the bolt, and come clear about Poseidon’s plan? Then perhaps I will show you some mercy.”

“Poseidon’s plan?” Percy stood and looked to Ethan for backup. “I didn’t know who my father was until I arrived at camp, and I promise I did not steal the bolt to help Poseidon throw a coup or anything, I didn’t even take the bolt. Is your helmet missing too? I can assure you that I did not do this.”

“Lies!” Hades’ anger was punctuated by rows of skeleton soldiers filing into the room. “I can sense the power within the satyr’s bag.”

Percy watched as Ethan fumbled to open Grover’s bag, hands trembling while lifting the three-foot-long bolt of lightning out of it.

The master bolt — the weapon of the King of Gods — hummed with power. It was metal in the middle, where Ethan carefully held it. Percy could feel the heat and static, his hair sticking up.

“Lord Hades, we did not know this was in the bag,” Ethan placed the bolt back in the bag and laid it gently on the floor. “Ares gave us this bag in exchange for services rendered, we didn’t know the bolt was in there! Anyone could have snuck it into our bags. Wait,” Ethan paled. 

Hades’ hand burst into gold flames that balled in his palm. He seemed to consider what Ethan had said, then, he loosed the ball. It exploded next to Grover.

 “Your lordship, wait,” Ethan looked like he had seen a ghost. “Who would have a motive to set us up? The very god who gave us the backpack. As the God of War, Ares would have reason to frame Perseus.” 

Percy’s mouth went dry, but he didn’t have time to process what Ethan said before Hades sent another ball of flames in front of them.

“Even if you did not steal the bolt for Poseidon, you came here with it. I cannot sense my helm, meaning it is still stashed away. Ares could not have stolen the bolt and helm, only a demigod could do that.”

“Your helm has been missing since the solstice?” 

Hades glared at Percy, “I have said nothing of the helmet’s disappearance because I had no illusions that anyone on Olympus would offer me the slightest justice, the slightest help. I cannot afford for the word to get out that the most powerful weapon of fear is missing. Besides, you chose to come here for her .”

As if on cue, Sally Jackson appeared, suspended in an illusion of flames. She looked the same as she had when the minotaur had attacked, hair slightly mussed but still beautiful. 

“Indeed,” Hades said with satisfaction. “I took her. I knew, Perseus Jackson, that you would come to bargain with me eventually. Return my helmet, and perhaps I will let her go. She is not dead, you know. Not yet. But if you displease me, that will change.” 

Percy took a step towards his mother, her form flickering.

“Lord Hades, if you let us return to the world above and return the bolt to Zeus, I can swear we will find your helm and return it,” Ethan attempted. Hades sent another ball of fire, hitting just in front of them.

Percy looked at his friends, and then at his mother. He could probably grab his friends and run past the skeletons and get to the exit, but what of his mother? And if he ran for his mother he couldn’t take his friends. 

“Win the battle, lose the day,” Lorie had said, was his mother the loss then? Percy reached his hand to Ethan. 

“Hold on.”

Percy had never run with two people and a weapon of mass destruction before, but Ethan and Grover hung on for dear life as they rocketed past skeletons, dodging arrows and bullets, the stalactites and stalagmites threatening to impale them as they lengthened like fangs. A gold stalactite, probably worth more than what Percy’s mom had ever made, clipped Percy’s shoulder as they dove to on the group’s only opening, but he kept going.

The key Ares had given him was trying to pull them forwards from within the backpack, Percy realized. The pull then loosened for a moment as the bag suddenly flew out ahead, propelling the chain of flying demigods through the room, further and further forwards. 

The soldiers’ arrows seemed to slow as if the world itself had paused around Percy. Percy flew faster, his string unraveling faster and faster as the key brought him down the hallway. 

They skidded through the exit through the Trophy Chamber, the thick door clanging shut behind them. The trio panted there for a second, Percy grabbing the key from the bag and stringing it around his neck before searching the room for the exit. The sooner they got out, the better.

The trophy chamber was nothing like Percy expected. For one thing, it was the size of a football field. For the second, it was jam-packed with things . Ceramic cats sat in a case labeled, “Automaton prototype,”  while half-melted wings stood on a stand that claimed they belonged to Icarus. The key around Percy’s neck tugged him towards a large bronze vase.

“Do Not Open!” The plaque read, “Enemy of Olympus. Linked Jar.”

The key tugged itself from Percy’s neck and slid into the lock. 

Against all better judgment, Percy turned it.

Maybe it was the urge to be crowned ADHD poster child of the year, maybe it was the feeling of being powerless before the gods again and again, but he wanted to unleash whatever was inside. 

What was inside was an older-looking old boy with skin as pale as a poplar tree, blond hair, and dark blue eyes. One eye had a scar running through it.

 The boy sprang out of the jar and into a defensive position, while Percy, Ethan, and Grover stared at him.

“Who are you? Where am I?” demanded the boy. “I don’t regret what I did!” 

He was more of a man, really. Percy would place him at nineteen or so. “We’re escaping the underworld,” Percy finally said. Ethan shot him a look that probably meant something like Percy what are you doing? But Percy’s heart was hammering in his chest, and they needed to get out sooner than later.

Outside they could hear the sounds of skeleton soldiers clawing the door open. 

Ethan examined the room, “there’s a door over there!” He pointed to the far side of the room where a jet-black elevator waited for them. 

The boy looked around, “do you know where my sword is?” 

“I don’t think we have time for—” Grover went to cut in but seemed to think better of it.

They didn’t know who the boy was, or what he ‘did.’ Could he be just the latest in a line of monsters?

The boy surveyed the room and then ran across it.

He ran like Percy.

He ran to the end of the room where a sword was prominently displayed. It was half silver, half bronze. The boy grabbed it. 

“Now, who are you three kids?” 

“We can tell you later!” Percy pointed towards the elevator as the clanging of skeletons got louder and louder. Somehow, he managed to grab Ethan and Grover and bring them to the elevator. The boy followed behind them, mumbling to himself. 

Percy pushed the up button, wasting priceless moments as whirring was heard and the large door opened. 

Inside, Grover pushed the close doors button frantically, and the skeletons broke through to the trophy room just in time to see the elevator door close.

The ride rushed upwards to the world of the living and the boy in the elevator held his sword toward where Percy had collapsed on the ground.

“Now, who are you? And where were we?”

Percy glanced at Ethan who nodded, “I’m Percy.”

“I’m Ethan, son of Nemesis.”

“I’m Grover.” 

“And what’s going on?”

“We’re on a quest to retrieve the master bolt for the lord of the skies,” Ethan began. “And right now we’re escaping the underworld with a monster who was trapped in a jar.”

The boy bristled, “I am not a monster, thank you very much. My name is Luke Castellan. I am, unfortunately, a son of Hermes.”

‘ Same’ , Percy thought.

“You’re dead,” Ethan said, then flushed. “Sorry, you’re not dead is what I mean, and we all thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was dead too,” Luke said, as the elevator launched upward. “Do you guys know where Annabeth and Thalia are?”

Percy met Grover’s eyes, and shrugged, “we’ve heard of them, but everyone has assumed you guys were all dead. They changed everything after you.” 

Luke opened his mouth to respond when the four of them were rocketed out of the Los Angeles sand. In the distance, the sky was on fire. 

They needed to get the bolt back to Zeus. But how? Percy didn’t think bringing Luke Castellan with them would bode well for their lifespans. 

Lifespans… his mother was still in Hades. Percy didn’t want to cry in front of a dead rebellion leader, so he turned his face away, sinking into the sand.

Grover sat down next to him. “Perce, I’m sorry.” 

Percy did not want to think about it. Percy wanted his mom. Percy wanted to just be a normal mortal. 

But the gods couldn’t give him a break, could they? 

“What we sought was made ours,” Ethan said at last. “The prophecy was right on that one. Do you think, um, our new friend, is what was found behind locked doors?”

Luke looked at them, a trio of kids who must have seemed young in comparison to him. “The city, it didn’t always look like this, did it? How long— how long was I in that jar.”  His skin looked even paler in the midday sunlight. He looked… well he looked like he had spent fifty years trapped in a jar in Hades’ trophy room. He looked like a ghost.

“It’s been… a while,” Ethan was standing between Percy and Luke, shielding Percy’s wiped-away tears. Percy reached out and grabbed Ethan’s hand, then dropped it. 

“Ares set us up,” Grover said. 

“Yeah,” Ethan said. He stared at the wraith in the party of four. “In more ways than one.” 

The god himself was waiting on the edge of the pier. He wore a black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

Percy dropped Grover’s bag on the sand, “you set us up. You were the thief.” 

Ares grinned, “I didn’t steal the bolt and helm personally. Gods taking each other’s symbols of power – that’s a big no-no. But you’re not the only hero in the world who can run errands.” 

Was this all the gods saw; a kid running errands? Percy risked his life for the equivalent of stopping by the neighbor’s for a cup of flour? 

“So who’d you have do it? Clarisse? Barrett? One of your other terrible children?”  

Ares’ radiating anger doubled. Percy felt it pouring over him, the force of a thousand battles. He fell back and Ares laughed, “you try to mock the god of war, kid, you should know better at this point.”

Percy looked over at Grover and Luke who were knocked back on the sand with him. Ethan was the only one still standing.

Ares squinted at Ethan and laughed, “I see Nemesis is still messing with things she knows nothing about.”

Ethan scowled at the god, “don’t say things like that about my mother.” 

Ares ignored him. “Anyway, kid. The original plan that came to me,” he stared off, “it came to me and it had you die in the underworld. But then I had a wonderful idea, why not release the banes of Olympus?” 

“Banes?” Percy asked. “Like, plural?” 

Ares smiled, “you’ll see, kid. Now, why don’t you give in to me?” 

Percy looked at him, confused, until he saw Luke breathing heavily. 

“You kids should go,” Luke grunted out. “I don’t know how long I can hold,” his eyes flashed red, then blue again. “He’s serving my old master.”

Ares roared, the sand blasting back against them, scraping Percy’s legs.

Percy did the only thing he could think of, he raised his sickle.

“Ares, I challenge you.” His voice seemed to echo as he said it, and Ethan sucked in a breath.

“Percy,” Grover said, then stopped. “Percy, please.”

Ares grinned, his mouth ghastly and inhuman, “classic or modern, kid? What terms?”

Percy didn’t know where it came from, “I challenge you for our lives and the bolt, first to draw blood or ichor wins and has to leave the other alone.” He uncapped his sickle.

“You got a deal, pipsqueak,” Ares swung his aluminum bat down in front of him. It morphed into a huge, two-handed sword. The hilt was a large silver skull with a ruby in its mouth.

Ethan drew his daggers but Ares put up a hand, “this is between me and the theifling, kid.”

Percy’s sickle seemed tiny in comparison to Ares’ giant blade.

Above them, three feathery women appeared. Hades would be watching this fight.

Percy swung his sickle in a downward arc but Ares deflected the blade easily. Percy had to roll out of the way of the next strike that nearly cleaved through him. Percy tried to dash but it felt like the world was speeding up around him and he was stuck in slow motion. He flapped his wings and flew above Ares’ practiced slashes. Percy circled, and time slowed down again.

Then, it slowed down more.

His ADHD shifted into gear, and he could feel his string again, he could see every time Ares tensed his muscles. He could see what was going on.

He had a shorter blade so he needed to get in close, Ethan had taught him that, but Ares was fast.

Percy dove to the ground again, his sickle flashing in the morning sun, but Ares spun and met the strike with his hilt.

“Not bad for an amateur, kid,” Ares said. “But I have centuries on you.”

Ares was outmaneuvering Percy, forcing him to the defensive. Percy tried to get in the air again but he didn’t have an opening.

He pulled his string and dodged, again and again. Ares swung at Percy’s side and Percy dodged under it, tensing his legs and jumping to the air again.

Ares turned the blade around quicker than Percy would have thought possible. Percy could see it coming and willed his body to be fast enough. Even at top speed Percy still felt the blade cut the bottom off of his shoe.

“It’s just a matter of time, punk,” Ares called to Percy.

Percy sped up, and tried something new. He let the sickle be an extension of his wings and arm and body. He almost hit Ares but the god of war deflected again and again. He was just playing with Percy.

“Percy, cops are arriving!” Ethan called, breaking Percy’s focus. He looked over and saw the flashing lights, a row of five cars with guns trained on the battle. He lost his speed.

“Drop the guns!” called a police officer.

“This is a private matter,” Ares sent a wave of fire at the cars, and the pedestrians who were gathering. “Unless, of course, you want to see this boy die.” The vehicles exploded.

The pedestrians screamed and scattered.

 Ares laughed as he swung again, “you’re going down, kid. Time to join the barbeque.”

Ares’ blade swung up diagonally, and Percy knew this was it. He was going to die.

Hopefully Hades wouldn’t still be mad about the whole mess that had just happened.

Just as Ares’ sword was about to cleave Percy in half, a sword appeared.

The sword blocked the strike, then in a flurry of movement, cut into Ares.

It was weird because the silver seemed to pass harmlessly through Ares’ shoulder, but the bronze cut through. Ares stared at the golden ichor flowing from his wound for a moment, and rounded on Luke Castellan.

“You,” Ares hissed.

“You never said I couldn’t join the battle, after all, I’m a thiefling just like Percy.” Luke winked, his elfen features glowing. For the first time, Percy could see their resemblance. They had the same upturned nose, though Percy’s was wider, same dimple when they smiled, same glint in their eyes.

Ares’ eyes glowed with hate. “Perseus Jackson—'' Ares began the sentence, but the strange feeling of time passed over the beach again. It was cold, and it was hungry, and it was old, and it was everything.

Then, as quickly as it arrived, the darkness left.

Ares looked angry but confused too. “Perseus, you may live, but know you have made an enemy of war. You may call upon your strength, but you can never call upon me. If the gods choose to punish you, know I will design your torture.”

With that cheery note, Ares began to glow.

“Percy, look away!” Ethan called, and Percy closed his eyes. Even through his eyelids light still felt like it seared him, the force of a god’s true form. And then, like he’d never been there at all, Ares was gone. He left the helm of darkness, and Percy stared at Luke’s blade. Half of the blade dripped golden ichor.

Grover and Ethan ran up the beach, a police barricade behind them.

“Percy, I’m so glad you’re okay!” Grover hugged Percy and Ethan hugged them both. Then Grover moved back and Ethan hugged Percy by himself.

“I’m glad you survived,” Ethan said, and Percy felt the hot sun above warm his face.

“So am I.”

The trio turned back to Luke, who stood nonchalantly.

“Why is only half your sword coated in ichor?” Ethan asked.

Luke smiled tiredly, “Backbiter is half celestial bronze, half tempered steel. It means I can take down any opponent.”

Chiron had said no hero would harm mortals, but Luke wasn’t a hero, was he. He was dangerous, the bane of Olympus, the reason the Hermes cabin didn’t have any siblings for Percy. He was the one who had made everyone’s lives harder.

“Why did you do it?” Percy asked. “Rebelling against the gods seems like a bad idea.”

Luke sighed, “for freedom, Percy. You can’t tell me you’ve never wanted the gods to stop using you as a pawn. This is a game to them, but it’s life and death. Originally—” he broke off. “Originally our group had someone else urging us on, but we kind of ditched him at the last minute. No gods, no masters, including the Titans.”

“Titans?” Grover looked horrified.

“That’s who passed over us,” Ethan guessed. “Your old master or whatever.”

“One of us would have had to give up ourself for him,” Luke spun his cruel blade around to rest on his shoulder. “And we were a family till the end.”

“You and Annabeth Chase and Thalia Grace? We’ve heard the basics of the story but never the full details. Are they in jars too? What happened?”

  Luke exhaled, taking in Ethan’s question. “What are you taught?”

“You, Thalia, daughter of the sky king, and Annabeth, daughter of the sea king, rose against Olympus. You all had a fight and destroyed the throne room. The gods beat you and punished everyone left for your power by—”

The police down the beach had gotten brave enough to creep up to them and interrupted the conversation.

“Put down the guns!” a female officer called. Her nose scrunched at the sight of Percy, Ethan, and Grover.

Perfcy sheathed his sickle but Luke kept backbiter in his hands, “officer, thank you for coming up.” Grover stared at Luke, horrified by the unknown variable talking to the cop.

“Just doing my job,” the woman said. She looked up and down at the trio appraisingly, “what happened here?”

“That horrible man kidnapped the kids I was looking after,” Luke lied. He moved his hand in a circle in the air, “it’s lucky you told him to put the gun down, it really scared him away. He shot at all the cars but I managed to stop him from shooting poor, unarmed, Travis. He had kidnapped the kids and I was trying to get them safe but me hitting him with the stick was just a distraction. You’re the real hero here.”

“I’m the real hero here…” the woman’s eyes glazed over.

“Now, kids, want to tell the nice lady here where we need to go? I’m sure the state of California will be happy to pay for a plane- ticket” Luke almost cut himself off, but continued.

“New York, New York,” Ethan said.

“We would be happy to help you four get plane tickets.”

“Thank you so much officer,” Luke patted her arm. “We really owe our lives to you.”

The furies fluttering overhead swooped down for the helm. Percy moved, to hide Luke somehow, or to put on a brave face.

The furies landed, fangs bared. They didn’t look as threatening now, more annoyed.  The middle one almost looked more disappointed, as if she’d been planning to have demigods for supper, but had decided the trio might give her indigestion.

“We watched the whole thing, until the young godling saved you. So… the theft truly was not you?” The middle one asked.

Percy pointed at the helmet which the left fury grabbed, “Tell Hades the truth, that we didn’t steal anything and that he should call off the war. Tell him—” Percy’s voice broke. “Tell him not to hurt my mom.”

With a sharp caw, the furies flew up into the air and disappeared.

Percy wanted to collapse on the beach, but he could see the cop returning with backup.

“Don’t worry kids, we’ll get you to New York by afternoon.”

The airport terminal was a nightmare. Luke seemed to push all the right buttons to get them there in a flash, while the police kept asking them questions until the story was straight. The man had kidnapped them, and blown up a gas thing on the beach. The LAPD had bravely stepped in and saved everyone. Case closed.

Percy, Ethan, and Grover had been trading looks whenever Luke wasn’t looking but it took till almost boarding time for them to get a moment alone.

“What are we doing with him?” Ethan asked after Luke went to use the bathroom. “How do we sneak him past the gods?”

Grover flipped his hat in his hands, “do we even want to sneak him past? He has a sword that can hurt mortals and he used to serve a titan. ”

“We can’t just do nothing,” Percy ate another skittle. The ‘heroes’ in the LAPD had provided them with candy after dropping them off. Luke had opened his hands to reveal a stack of their wallets. Hey, at least they had some money now.

Percy checked his pockets again, making sure everything was there.

“Deciding what to do with me?” Luke appeared behind Percy and the trio flinched, Grover dropped Ethan’s bag. They had switched bags around for the trip. “It’s alright kids, I would be equally lost. I wouldn’t want to trust me either.”

Ethan nodded and Percy was able to give half a smile, Luke’s tone was light and in the airport lights, he looked like any other kid at camp. His scar was dark, and Percy could see an outbreak of pimples on his forehead. He had dimples.

Luke was, well, he seemed cool. He also might be evil.

“If we don’t tell the gods about you, what will you do?” Percy asked.

“I’d try to figure out what happened to my friends. I promise I wouldn’t do anything to make life harder for the kids at camp. That’s half of why we were fighting, for kids like you. Sure Annie was younger than us, but Thals and Iwere counselors. Percy, you look just like my younger brother Travis.”

That was the second time Luke had brought up a sibling Percy would never get to meet. He wanted to know there was someone else like him alive. Besides, Luke seemed cool.

“Boarding for flight 317,” the desk called.

Percy, Ethan, and Grover sat next to each other, with Luke across the aisle.

“You two should go back to camp half blood when we arrive in New York,” Percy knew his friends would protest leaving him alone. Hey, Percy also didn’t want them to leave. Grover and Ethan had been his friends through the whole nightmare of a quest, and all Percy wanted to do was stay with them forever. But someone needed to explain it all to Chiron. And, someone needed to figure out where to keep Luke.

“He can stay in my mom’s apartment,” was Percy’s final decision on Luke. “At least until I get back from Olympus. If we need to sneak him in, two Hermes kids are better than one.” Luke didn’t protest anything they suggested, nodding along.  

If things went wrong, Percy wouldn’t get back from Olympus. If Zeus didn’t believe him then he was as good as dead. He wanted Ethan and Grover to survive, if that happened.

At 5 pm on the 21st of June, Percy Jackson opened the door to the Empire State Building alone.

“I need to get to the 600th floor please,” Percy said to the man at the front desk. He was greeted with a blank stare.  “I have an audience with Zeus.”

The man’s unconcerned look didn’t change, “no appointment, no audience, kiddo.”

Percy sucked in his lip. Time to pull out the big guns. He unzipped Ares’ backpack and carefully tilted it to show the master bolt. “I found something of his.”

The deskman went pale, “that isn’t…”

“It is.” Percy fiddled with the zipper. “I  can take it out to show you if you want.”

“No, no, that isn’t necessary,” the guard fumbled on the desk for his keycard. “Put this in the slot and make sure no one is with you in the elevator.”

When the elevator finally dinged and opened its doors on the last floor, Percy couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no way that the top of a mountain could be on the Empire State Building. And yet, there it was.

Percy stood on a narrow stone walkway suspended in the air. The walkway was anchored on clouds, and for a moment he wanted to turn the other way and see how far he could run on clouds. He didn’t.

He could have flown across, but something told him to keep his wings hidden. He didn’t need any more attention.

Below him sprawled a birds-eye view of Manhattan. It shouldn’t have been possible, but from the tops of the clouds rose the decapitated peak of a mountain. Clinging to the mountain were dozens of beautiful palaces in bright colors.

Chapter Text

Chapter Eleven: So many questions left unanswered

Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Hades, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. Percy didn’t have to be told who the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting for him to approach. He tried to keep his legs from shaking.

The gods were in giant human form, as Hades had been, but Percy could barely look at them without feeling a tingle, his mortal body starting to burn.

Zeus, the Lord of the Gods, wore a dark blue, pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray. As Percy got nearer to him, the air crackled and smelled of ozone.

The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it. His skin was deeply tanned, his hands scarred like an old-time fisherman’s. His air smelled like salt water and hungry ocean creatures.

Percy knelt before Zeus. He wished Ethan was there to show him how to be polite in the exact right way. “My king,” he began. “I traveled with my companions to find your missing bolt and return it to its rightful owner.” Percy placed the bag before Zeus.

“You show deference, at least,” Zeus said. His brother laughed.

“If he were my agent he would have knelt before me,” Poseidon’s too-salty smell gained an acidic feel.

“I will humor you, brother, so we can see who the child serves. Then I shall make up my mind whether or not to cast this boy down from Olympus. Boy, tell your story.”

So Percy did. He talked about the bus and hitchhiking and Ares’ strangeness. He left Luke out.

Zeus opened his palm and the lightning bolt flew out into it. As he closed his fist, the metallic points flared with electricity, until he was holding what looked more like the classic thunderbolt, a five-meter javelin of arcing, hissing energy.

It could have killed Percy in a heartbeat.

“I sense he tells the truth,” Zeus said to his brother. The tension diffused slightly. “Ares normally has better sense than that.”

“He is proud and impulsive,”  Poseidon said. “It runs in the family.”

Zeus sighed at that and turned back to Percy.

Percy tried to figure out how to bring up the fact Ares had been under sway, “my lord, if I may, there is one more detail you should know.”

“I will permit your speech,” Zeus twirled the master bolt in his hand.

“I don’t think Ares was the one who was thinking things through. Not fully at least. He got the bolt from the previous thief and there was this… presence…. at the beach. It seemed like the presence in a cave we ran into in the underworld, a cave with a huge pit. It felt old,” Percy couldn’t exactly say that Luke had told them it was a titan. “Older than even the gods,” he finished lamely.

Zeus’ expression turned stormy once more, and he turned to face his brother. The two spoke quickly in Greek. Percy caught one word that he knew from camp, father. It carried the same tone that it did at camp too, bitterness.

Poseidon tried to say something but Zeus silenced him. Zeus turned back towards Percy, “you will speak no more of this, boy.”

Percy nodded.

Zeus leaned back on his throne, “now, for your trial.”

Great.

The gods and goddesses all popped into place slowly. Percy didn’t have anything to do but wait. His nerves felt like the bolt was inside of him, electricity coursing through his veins. 

Hera came quickly, looking annoyed at everything. She wore a simple greek dress with peacock feathers sewn onto the skirt.

Apollo and his twin arrived together. Apollo waved sunnily at Percy who did his best to smile. He needed any ally he could get. Artemis and Apollo were similar enough to have swapped places. Apollo still looked in his young twenties, but he had a more youthful air about him. Artemis was maybe fifteen or so, but she carried herself with a hunter’s careful steps.

Hephestus arrived, looking… neutral? With each step he took, his leg braces made whirring noises. They had bronze gears and glowing greek letters. 

Aphrodite, who looked a little like Percy’s mom and a little like someone else, though Percy couldn’t say who, winked at Percy. Ares, who stood next to her, glared at Percy.

Demeter sat on her throne in a simple cotton shirt, growing flowers and withering them.

Athena seemed to give a Percy half smile when she arrived. She was in full battle gear, an owl on her shoulder. The owl stared at Percy as she passed, turning its head around to keep him in eyesight

And Hermes, Hermes came last. He didn’t look at Percy.

Percy pictured Hades, down below, and thought he was rather glad the god of the underworld wouldn’t get a vote.

The gods sat on their thrones, surrounding Percy. He felt like a gnat on their floor as they discussed with each other, never looking at him. All the Olympians in one place. So much power in this room it was a miracle the whole palace didn't blow apart.

Finally, Zeus banged a gavel.

“Olympian Council, we are gathered here today to vote on the life and future of Perseus Jackson, son of Hermes.”

A small gasp sounded around the room, and Percy looked around. He tried to look at his father, but Hermes refused to look back at him.

A clear wall rose between Percy and the gods so Percy couldn’t hear their words. He wasn’t sure it would have been better to hear.

It felt like another eternity before the wall retracted.

“Perseus Jackson has done the world a service by bringing my bolt back,” Zeus began. “He is also a bastard, born with the breaking of an unbreakable oath. He could well be a weapon of destruction, just as my bolt is. Even his weapon seems a bad omen, that sickle should not have been unearthed.” Zeus glared at Hermes on that note. “After the briefing of the council, I now open the floor for discussion.”

Apollo lounged in his chair, golden headphones on. “THE HERO HAS DONE US GOOD SERVICE,” he yelled, unnecessarily compensating for his music. “I  DON’T THINK HE NEEDS TO DIE YET.”  

“But he is still a threat,” Ares glared at Percy.

Athena stared at Percy, unblinking. “It is unfortunate that my cousin, Hermes, chose to break their oath not to have more children. As we know from past experience, the children of Hermes are dangerous. As thick-headed as he is, Ares has a point.”

"Right!" Ares said. "Hey, wait a minute. Who you callin'—”

He started to get up, but a vine grew around his waist like a seat belt and pulled him back down.

"Oh please, Ares," Demeter sighed. "Save the fighting for later.”

Ares cursed and ripped away the vine. "You're one to talk, spending all your time in the fields. You seriously want to protect this brat?”

Demeter gazed down at Percy as though she’d never seen a human before. "I have no love for him. Athena, do you truly think it is safest to destroy him?”

"I do not pass judgment," Athena said. "I only point out the risk. What we do, the Council must decide.”

“I like the kid,” Aphrodite seemed a world removed from the other gods when she winked at Percy. “I always love the ones who love many people,” she twirled her hair.  

Percy didn’t have time to figure out what that meant before Zeus banged the gavel again. “All in favor of not vaporizing the boy?”

Hermes, who had stayed silent till then, stood up. “Father, my family, please listen to this speech. The boy is not a threat to Olympus. He might have managed to survive somehow, but it is certainly through no virtues of his own. His mother was a fling who can’t hold down a job, and the boy has never honestly passed a test. If we destroy him the other demigods will fear us and see us as unreasonable. He couldn’t even destroy the monster sent after him when he got to camp, and he allowed his mother to be taken.” Percy bristled at first, and then he saw what his father was doing. Hermes was spinning a tale for him. As Hermes finished he sat back down, raising his hand into the air.

Aphrodite raised her hand, and Apollo followed suit. Apollo sent a sunbeam across the hall and poked his sister with it. The goddess of the hunt sighed and raised her hand as well.

Poseidon, who had sat quietly for the proceedings, lazily raised his hand. “An enemy of my enemy or whatever,” the air was sharp with salt.

That was five out of eleven.

Percy looked around as Zeus smiled. He didn’t want to die.

Then, Hera raised her hand. “Were it not for my husband having a new child I would not have voted for your life, Perseus,” Hera said. Percy decided that Hera was his new favorite goddess.

Zeus glared at her and Percy could hear a distant thunderclap. “The vote has been decided. Now, what shall we vote on his powers?”

“Father, please, everyone knows Hermes' children’s ‘powers’ are just magicians' tricks.” Athena looked at Percy, and he could have sworn her owl winked at him. “I have other matters to attend to.”

“Very well,” Zeus banged the gavel a final time and it disappeared. “See that you do not come before this council again, boy.”

Percy decided not to say that he hadn’t exactly chosen to come before them.

One by one the gods popped out until only Hermes remained.

Percy didn’t know how to talk to his father who had just lied to the council of gods about him, so he waited ‘till Hermes spoke.

“As a messenger of my father, I am telling you that you may not speak of who or what is in the pit, on pain of death.”

Great.

“As your father, I should apologize to you. You should not have survived.”

“What?”

Hermes clicked his tongue. He shrunk down to normal human size.

Hermes had light brown skin a few shades lighter than Percy’s mother’s and had curly brown hair. The strangest thing was his lack of wrinkles. Percy had grown up with Sally and they went through a few apartments where their only neighbors were old enough that they should have been retired. They had also been too poor to retire. Some of Percy’s best memories came from spending time with them, Arabic flying in narrow wood halls that smelled of cooking. Percy had always hoped he would get laugh lines as an adult, signs of a life well lived. But gods didn’t have lives in the same way mortals did.

“Normally when I  slept with women, the fates cleared my tracks,” Hermes began haltingly. “I stayed with your mother but I kept waiting for the moment it would all go away. And then you were born.” Hermes reached his hand out to cup Percy’s cheek. “I stayed until you hit the age of forming memories but if I could have I would have stayed forever.”

Percy started to cry. He tried to hold his breath to stop it, but when Hermes hugged him again it came rushing out. He’d spent so many years wondering why he wasn’t good enough, why his father had left. 

But his father loved him and had stayed as long as he could.

“Your path will not be easy, Perseus,” Hermes looked into Percy’s eyes. “You are my son, my only son on the earth right now. I have no other son on earth. That would be impossible. Besides, if I knew I had one it would only be because I checked in on your mother’s apartment and wondered who the strange energy source was. If I had another son he should know that his energy code does not read as a son of Hermes. Also, if for any reason you needed to keep something in the Hermes cabin out of sight, knock four long and then four short on the back corner wall. Theoretically, though of course not in practice, a demigod could be kept hidden there. If a demigod was there, and my only son was with him, I would hope my only son would tell his brother that I am sorry. Though, that would all be ridiculous.” Hermes stared straight into Percy’s eyes.

Percy smiled.

“Would you pull out your sickle?” Hermes held out his hand and Percy placed the blade in it. “I never told you its name, I was wrong to do so. It is called ‘Óplo tis gis.’”

“Weapon of the earth,” Percy translated.

“It was made by the most powerful goddess to have lived, the earth mother, and baptized in the blood of the sky. Use it well, Perseus. Oh, and one more thing,” Hermes hugged Percy again, then released him. “Hades returned your mother when you returned his helm.”

Nothing else mattered in the world. Sally Jackson was back. Percy hadn’t lost his mother. Hermes’ hugs were nice, but nothing would ever be as good as hugging his mom.

“Thanks, dad,” Percy said.

Percy held his breath as he knocked on his mom’s apartment door.

“Come in!” Sally Jackson called. Inside, Percy could hear a quiet scuffle.

Percy turned the knob and entered his apartment, his mother waiting on the couch.

“Mom!” he ran into his mother, hugging her tightly.

“Percy,” Sally squeezed her son tightly. “Percy! Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby. I am so, so proud of you. You deserve a normal life but what you did was so brave.”

Percy explained his whole quest. In the end, his mom called Luke in from the closet he was hiding in.

“Percy, where will you go?”

“Back to Camp Half-Blood.”

“For the summer… or forever?”

“I guess that depends,” Percy locked eyes with his mom. He could tell what she was thinking; They would see how things settled when summer ended.

You two stay safe, Luke, it’s been so nice to have you as a guest. I trust that you will make the right choices and stay out of trouble. Percy, I love you.”

Luke hotwired a motorcycle to bring them most of the way to camp. It took him no time to get used to the vehicle, despite being from decades before the bike was made.

Percy loved it. He loved the wind blowing and the way the world slowed around him.

It was almost night by the time they reached camp.

“Luke, I’ll go into camp and then see if I can come out later and bring you to the cabin. Does that sound good?”

Luke nodded, still looking around, “everything is so… different. That tree, I don’t know. I don’t like it.”

“It’s the border that the gods made to protect the camp after- after everything.”

Percy crossed the border and breathed in the sweet, strawberry-scented air. It was good to be back.

Down the hill, he could see people feasting and singing, and he ran to them. People clapped him on the back and sat him down next to Ethan and Grover, but he could feel their eyes tracking him.

They weren’t the most liked people who had been on a quest that Summer, but everyone was glad they stopped a war to end all wars. According to camp tradition, Percy put on laurel wreaths and partook in the big feast prepared in the quest’s honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where the trio got to burn the burial shrouds that cabins had made for them in their absence.

The whole Hermes cabin had worked on them, apparently. Ethan’s had a poorly sewn scale on it, with marker drawings everywhere. Percy’s was a simple yellow with a caduceus drawn, but it still made him get a little misty-eyed.

It was good to be back with the Hermes cabin, the bunch of misfit kids who were his new family. Marcy and Lynx had given him twin high-fives, Thomas had crushed him in a hug with Butch and Emelina following behind, and even Alabaster seemed glad to see them. It was nice to watch Ethan in the cabin too. Percy had met him just as he was claimed, a time when people were frostier to him, but after the quest, he could really see it. This had been Ethan’s home for years, and his care for his family was obvious. Everyone had swept Ethan up, giving him small trinkets or just compliments. Ethan was beaming as they walked to the campfire.

As Apollo’s cabin led the sing-along and passed out toasted marshmallows, Percy was surrounded by his Hermes cabin mates and Grover’s satyr buddies, who were admiring the brand-new searcher’s license he’d received from the Council of Cloven Elders. The council had called Grover’s performance on the quest “Brave to the point of indigestion. Horns-and-whiskers above anything we have seen in the past.”

The only ones not in a party mood were Clarisse and her cabinmates, whose poisonous looks told Percy they’d never forgive him for disgracing their dad.

That was okay with him.

Even Dionysus’s welcome-home speech wasn’t too bad. “Yes, yes, so the little brat didn’t get himself killed and now he’ll have an even bigger head. Well, huzzah for that. In other announcements, there will be no canoe races this Saturday.”

Everyone bundled off to bed, and Percy waited till everything was quiet, then left the cabin.

He walked carefully and quickly through the dark forest. The night seemed to be holding its breath. Percy reached the border and stepped through.

“Luke?” he called softly. “I’m here.”

 A shape emerged from the shadows, a form so hidden that Percy wouldn’t have been able to find him, even if he looked.

“Good to see you, Percy,” Luke said. “Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping a low profile.”

“Killed many monsters?” Percy joked. “Or mortals?”

Luke’s smile looked wry in the moonlight, “killed my fair share.” He didn’t specify which one.

Sneaking Luke into camp was a harrowing experience. Every caw of a harpy or stick breaking was a sign that they could be detected. Luke moved with a grace unlike that of anyone Percy had ever met. He seemed to know just where to place his feet so they made no noise, his movements fluid.

When they reached the cabins Percy thanked his father that the cabin was on the edge of the clearing. He could have sworn he saw eyes peeking out of the Dionysus cabin, but his nerves were frayed.

Luke breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped on the porch, “this place hasn’t changed a bit, huh?”

“I guess,” Percy looked around, sure someone would hear them. “Come on!”

“I’m coming, kiddo.” Percy gave one last look around the camp as he opened the Hermes cabin door. It felt like a home, and it was the safest place in the world for demigods.

He knocked on the wood and a door opened up, just like Hermes had said. “We can talk after breakfast,” he told Luke. Luke looked around the tiny crawl space with a sleeping bag and a small backpack.

“Thanks for bringing me in.”

Breakfast was still a celebration, the Dionysus cabin had grown garlands of flowers with the Demeter kids and had set confetti to rain down on the successful trio. People still didn’t trust Percy —or still associated him with the image of the Hermes kid from long ago— oh gods, Percy knew Luke now. He hoped no one would ever find out. 

Percy hoped no one would ever find out about Luke… somehow. They threw the party as expected, but the camp still hadn’t quite accepted him, or rather, his father.

Malcolm Pace, who had been the temporary Hermes counselor, told Percy to head to the Big House for lunch, and the Hermes table had clinked glasses, but there was still some unrest.

Percy let people head to arts and crafts without him, packing up some pancakes and strawberries and heading towards Luke.

“I got you breakfast,” Percy and Luke sat on Percy’s sleeping bag. It was close enough to the crawl space that if needed, Luke could go back.

“Thanks,” Luke practically inhaled his food. “I haven’t had food this good in thirty years.”

Percy laughed harder than he should have, “you know, they’re making me the Hermes cabin’s head counselor.”

“Shouldn't one of the other Hermes kids have the position? I know you did a big quest but you’re still on the younger side of counselors. Well, I became one at fifteen, how old are you again?”

“Luke…” Percy didn’t know how to say what had happened. His throat felt tight. “I’m the first Hermes kid born since the rebellion,” he didn’t say ‘ your rebellion ’, but Luke knew what he meant.

“What,” Luke swallowed his strawberry, gripping the leaves in his hand tightly. “Percy, what do you mean?”

“I’m sorry,” Percy said. He stared at the pink stains on Luke’s fingers instead of at his face. “They changed a lot of things.”

“What, exactly did they change?” Luke’s voice was hard and sharp. “Percy, you can’t lie to me.”

“They placed restrictions on powers and stuff, and like, what people could make,” Percy didn’t know how to lead into this. “And the gods outlawed Hermes from having kids.”

“What happened to the other Hermes kids?”

Percy pulled his shoulders up, “Luke, I don’t know!”

“Percy Jackson, what happened to my siblings.”

“I don’t know!”

“What do you think… happened?” Luke’s eyes locked on Percy’s. “You know enough to make a guess, right?”

“If I had to guess…” Percy knew what his guess would be. “Maybe they were allowed to live their lives?” it sounded like a lie as he said it.

Luke drew his sword and swung it, chopping into the bed reserved for the counselor of the week, “you don’t get it! There were kids in this cabin, little kids. Kids who I was the only person who would take care of them. And now they’re dead because of me. I was supposed to look out for them and make sure they survived; instead, I brought their deaths!” Luke’s chest heaved.

Percy tried to walk towards him but Luke spun, sword in hand. The morning light glinted in his eyes, giving the blue an icy sheen, “don’t.”

“Luke,” Percy stopped. He wished they could step outside the dingy cramped cabin, but they couldn’t, could they? He had a fugitive in his walls and nowhere to put him.

Luke swung, again and again, forcing Percy to back up. Percy grabbed his sickle and tried to fight, but Luke was talented. He effortlessly got through Percy’s defenses. Luke did something that made the blade twist out of Percy’s hands and clatter to the floor. The pair of them stared at the blade. It looked more purple than green now. Luke dropped his [unsettling mortal-killer] sword.

“I’m sorry Percy, you’re just a little kid too. I shouldn’t be putting this on you.”

“I’m not that little, I’ve been on a quest,” Percy protested.

Luke sighed and shook his head, “you’re a kid. You should be having fun, not saving the world. That’s what Thals, Annie, and I were fighting for.”

“You cared a lot about them,” Percy said. He looked at his blade on the ground. “I’ve only heard about the fact that you three rebelled. Why did you do it? Things seem like they were better back then,” he tried not to sound accusative.

Luke stared at his palm. It was calloused from years of sword-fighting, skin hard around his thumbs. “Camp wasn’t safe, and parents weren’t fixing things,” he made the same face while thinking that Percy did. “Thals and I practically raised Annabeth, but even when we reached ‘sanctuary,’” his face twisted. “Even ‘sanctuary’ wasn’t a home. Quests kept being given, and no one returned the same,” Luke’s hand drifted towards his eye. “It took the healers two weeks to restore my eyesight, Percy. Do you know how terrifying that is? I was the oldest son of our father, which meant I was in charge of ten kids. I cleaned scrapes and made sure they ate, that shouldn’t have been my job!”

Percy looked around the Hermes cabin. Things were still the same, weren’t they?

“We’d all sacrificed so much to reach camp, and then the gods refused to claim us till we did something extraordinary. It only took me having to make three kids’ funeral pyres for something to snap. When we’d been on our own we had always thought, ‘well, at least all this suffering will end,’ but it never ended. Dionysus was pissed when he got sent back—”

“Sent back?” Percy asked, “I thought he got sent here as a one-time punishment.”

Luke gave him a half-smile, “yeah. A few years after we got there his punishment ended. He threw some big party out in California, music, drugs, everything. For Woodstock, his dad sent him back to the position of least helpful babysitter in the world.”

“Weird,” Percy knew weird didn’t really cover it. “They added a magical barrier after you, but they didn’t change a lot.”

“I know,” Luke said. “In the wall, I read all the boards. There are still too many unclaimed kids. Hey, maybe there’s an upside of the whole ‘no Hermes kids’ thing, now you don’t have to sit unclaimed in your own cabin.”

“Our dad just let kids sit here?’ Percy thought of Hermes staying with his mom. “I thought he stayed with his kids.”

“He did— for some” Luke sat down on a bed. “He showed favorites, for sure. When I finished my quest he gave me a pair of flying shoes. Wish they’d left them with me in the jar.”

“He gave me these,” Percy let his wings appear. He spent so much time hiding them, it was nice to feel the air.

“Holy shit, Percy.”

“He stayed with my mom,” Percy began. Then, he remembered what he learned in the underworld. “Luke, what happened with Hermes and your mom?”

Luke stared off into the distance, “Hermes stayed for the first six years of my life, appearing on and off. He loved my mom, but he also loved that he stole her. That was her downfall.”

“Can I ask?”

“Sure. It’s not like it was the worst backstory from our group, but you should go in prepared. The story isn’t pretty, Perce.”

Percy’s emotions did flips, he needed to steel himself for the story, but Luke called him a nickname!

“My mom was great, I’ve been told,” Luke began. “But the gods can never let a good thing lie. Hermes stole her from Apollo, without her knowing that Hermes was dooming her. “

“Ares told me to mention your mom to Apollo, he said she was an old flame but it was a lie.”

“Apollo cursed her. He offered her the oracleship when she was young and she considered it, but then she saw Hermes. The two fell in love and had me. I was six when Apollo got her. She’d always gotten flashes of the future, but he made her visions worse till she couldn’t tell what time she was in. She’d look at me and start crying or screaming. She didn’t make food anymore, just burnt cookies. Hermes never came back for me, so I ran away. I haven’t seen her since.” The bitterness in Luke’s voice was sharp.

“I’m sorry,” Percy said. He didn’t know how to tell Luke, who had just experienced the grief of the dead Hermes kids and of everyone he knew and the time he knew, that Apollo had ordered his mother tortured.

Luke set up the opening for him, “what are you hiding?” Luke moved in a blur, picking up Backbiter and Percy’s sickle.

“Apollo—” Percy’s voice broke and he cursed the gods., “When we were in the underworld, I searched for your mom, and Apollo had chosen where she went.”

Percy felt like he was moving in slow motion as Luke sprang up like a cat, his sword extended.

“Where did Apollo send my mother?”

“He sent her to the- to the fields.” Percy looked at the ground as though the wood could erase what he’d said. “Gods, Luke, I don’t like any of this either! I just learned about the gods, I don’t like this either!” to his annoyance, tears began to fall from his eyes. Percy was so tired of crying.

Luke sat down in Lynx’s thrown-together bed. His movements knocked one of Lynx’s spare canes down and Luke swore. Luke put the cane back in position, his movements slightly more controlled to avoid knocking down more of Lynx’s trinkets. Against Lynx’s green sheets he looked even more unhealthy, his skin too pale and yellow. Luke sat back up, his head bumping on Marcy’s bunk, the quickly smoothed out, slightly ruffled sunset-gradient sheets with trees on them contrasting with his blond hair. Up above, Marcy’s trinkets moved from the ceiling, her chains of four-leaf clovers swaying softly. Luke buried his head in his hands, “give me an hour or two. I won’t reveal myself or anything stupid like that, I just need space to think properly.” He gazed out towards the pine tree. “I need to come to terms with some things.” 

Percy stood in front of the Big House. Malcolm had told him to come here, though if it was for acclimation or punishment he didn’t know.

In the Big House was a ping pong table where counselor business was carried out. Percy found himself standing in the front of the rec room, staring at the counselors.

They were arranged around the ping pong table in the order of the cabins. Percy saw some he knew, Clarisse, Malcolm Pace, Silena, Beckendorf, Lee Fletcher, and one of Dionysus’ twins.

“I’m Ira,” the Zeus counselor seemed to pick up on his lack of knowledge. “So, you’re to be the Hermes counselor, huh?”

“Yeah,” Percy curled a loop of his hair around his finger.

“Welcome to the world of responsibility,” Ira said, motioning for Percy to take a seat. “You won’t have the same base we all did, so it’s time for a crash course.” Ira looked a year or two older than Percy, but he had nine beads on his necklace. Percy became aware of his lack, looking around the room, there was only one person with three beads. Percy was years behind everyone there, and they all knew it.

“This part that Chiron and Mr. D are coming in for will be short, and then we will all talk to you. In addition to normal counselor things, we can fill you in on anything you need,” Beckendorf said.

“Thanks-” Percy had time to squeak out before the pair entered the room. He sat down in the empty chair at the end.

Chiron was in his wheelchair, and Mr. D was in a terrible Hawaiian shirt with flamingos on it. Dionysus waved his hand and supplied snacks: Cheez Whiz, crackers, and several bottles of red wine. Then, Chiron reminded him that wine was against his restrictions. Mr. D sighed. With a snap of his fingers, the wine turned to Diet Coke.

“We are gathered here today yada yada,” Mr. D began. Chiron sighed.

Chiron rolled back a little, “Perseus Jackson, do you accept the position of counselor for the Hermes cabin? You must schedule activities and take care of your cabin. You are responsible for ensuring the safety and well-being of the members. This is not something given lightly, it is given to the most qualified member of a cabin. Do you accept this honor and responsibility?”

Percy was not the most qualified member of his cabin. He wasn’t even the most qualified son of Hermes in the cabin. But what choice did he have?

“I accept,” Percy said.

Chiron nodded in the same way as he did when Percy did well on a test without cheating. Back then, Percy didn’t know how his Latin teacher intuited such things, and the biggest worry in his life was if he would be caught stealing from the store. “You will begin your duties Saturday. Until then, the Hermes cabin will still follow the schedule Silena made.”

Chiron and Dionysus left Percy to the council of counselors.

“Welcome, Percy,” Ira said. “Here, we’ll all go around and say our names and cabins. I’m Ira Wilgo, Head of the Zeus cabin.” He motioned to the person to his right, “Now Lobelia will go.”

Lobelia was a girl with thick curly dark hair and glasses. She had eight beads and a glare that she was directing at Ira. “Ira, shut up. I’ve told you a thousand times to just call me Lobster like everyone else.” Ira put his hands up in a display of innocence. “I’m Lobster, head of the Poseidon cabin. We’re like the Zeus cabin but better.”

The dark-skinned pudgy kid across the table who was clearly trying not to laugh cleared their throat, “I’m Cedar Manzur of the Demeter Cabin. Please use she and her for me.” She had shoulder-length hair that was threaded with flowers. Percy smiled at her last name. The Arabic was familiar in a way nothing else at camp seemed to be, bringing him back to the days when he lived in the run-down apartment building while his mom was figuring everything out and between jobs.

Clarisse went next, but Percy didn’t listen to her. So they were in cabin order, then. That meant Percy would always sit at the end of the table across from Castor? Pollux? He’d find out. Even at the highest position he could reach, he still sat at the end of the table.

Percy brought his attention back to the table. Lee, Malcolm, Beckendorf, and Silena had all gone, meaning he went next.

“I’m Percy Jackson of the Hermes cabin,” Percy couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“I’m Pollux,” Pollux said. He had nine beads. He got to have nine years with his father. Percy tried not to glare at him for it. “Let’s get this party started!”

Beckendorf reached his hand below his chair and put a medium-sized wooden box on the table, “normally a counselor gets the position after a quest, so they already have a weapon. When you get the position you do get something nice. If you put your sickle in here and spend a few hours over the week with me and Silena,” he looked over at the Aphrodite counselor who waved at him. “If you just spend a few hours we can get your weapon into a vehicle that will allow you to carry it in the mortal world.”

Clarisse tapped her watch, “see, Prissy, it’s like this.” Her watch expanded into a larger metal circle with a boar’s head crest in the center. It hit Lee’s shoulder and he winced.

“How do you feel about an ear piercing?” Silena leaned across the table towards Percy.

Three hours later, Percy emerged from the big house, his head stuffed with information. Shower schedules, activities, bedtimes, who had allergies, it was a never-ending list of his new responsibilities. An eight-year-old had arrived at camp that morning, so she was now under his care.

Percy followed the other counselors to the dining pavilion and watched as they all sat in the middle of their tables, talking openly and laughing. He sat down at the Hermes table across from Alabaster.

“Hey Perce,” Alabaster said easily. “I was just talking to darling young Georgie here,” he motioned to a skinny kid with a few cuts on his body hidden under his arm. “Did you know he knows everything in the whole world about trains?”

Georgie giggled and peeked out, vibrating with excitement. “Do you know about how they lay railroad tracks?” his R’s and L’s sounded like W’s. “To prepare you use a subdrainage system…”

  Percy settled into the hum of Hermes cabin lunchtime. To his left, Butch and Emelina were playing a clapping game, to his right, Ethan sat next to Lou Ellen, his hands moving animatedly as he signed everything that had happened on the quest again. 

After lunch, the Hermes Cabin went to arts and crafts. Percy tried to keep track of it all in his head, who liked what activity, who hid in the corner, who looked for companionship. Everywhere he looked, Alabaster was there. He brought activities over to kids who didn’t like the main one, went to the corner with open hands, and matched the kids up with expertise. Alabaster was good at taking care of the Hermes cabin. He also might have tried to drag Percy to Tartarus.

Still, with the sweet scent of strawberries drifting over the laughter around Percy, it was nice to be home. 

The earth was dark and soft, but she was almost awake.

Chapter Text

When they got back to the cabin before dinner, Percy went up to Alabaster. 

“They’re making me head counselor, just like you said in the Iris message days ago, but I still felt like I should come to you first,” Percy began. “You’re the one who has done the job. I don’t know more than the crash course I was given. I know it’s not fair it was given to me, but I need to know how to do everything by Friday, and it’s too much for me to figure out in two days. Would you help me?” 

Alabaster gave a tight grin, “I’ll try not to be too bitter about not having the elected position of Head Counselor for the loser cabin, but sure. Of course, I would be happy to help, and hey, you deserve it. You know how to succeed and not be ‘greedy,’” Alabaster rubbed at where his scar showed on his shoulder. “I’ll be the head counselor when I get feeling back in my neck.” 

“Thank you,” Percy looked around the cabin, sleeping bags on the floor all around. “You should get the bed.”

Alabaster gave another half grin, a spark of something genuine in his eyes, “I appreciate it Percy, but I think it should go to Georgie, at least, until Hephestus decides to give a shit and claim him.” 

Across the cabin, Georgie flinched at the sound of his name, “did I do something?” He was still covered in bruises and cuts, and far too skinny. Why would Hephestus allow that to happen? 

“No, just telling Perce here about how cool you are!” Alabaster called back. His intimidating aura disappeared for a moment. Georgie smiled, and shrank back into the coat Alabaster had given him. 

Why was there such a difference between how Alabaster treated Georgie and how he treated Percy? Percy had stolen his own sleeping bag, but Georgie got a coat? Beckendorf had shown Percy around, but here Alabaster was stepping up. It didn’t make sense. 

The cabin settled in before the night’s activity, Bomb Cornhole, which Percy hoped wouldn’t be what its name suggested. Alabaster sat next to Georgie and Percy went to sit with Ethan, who was talking with Lou Ellen. 

“How are you?” he asked his friend, resting his head on Ethan’s shoulder. Ethan flinched, drawing his weapon on Percy, then flushed.

“Sorry, I guess all the stress from the quest is catching up to me.”  

Lou Ellen twisted a pen in her hands, taking it apart and putting it back together, “that’s normal, but I know what can help with it if you want something.”

“What is it?” 

“Nova found out she’s a daughter of Hypnos the other day and got a thing of Lethe water. I know how to make a potion to ease sleep and help lower anxiety. How are you, Percy?”

Percy moved around Ethan, the bed shifting under his weight. “There’s so much going on,” Percy’s leg bounced.

“I get that,” Lou Ellen’s bubbly voice felt less sincere like she wasn’t quite able to fake happiness. “When Alabaster came back from the quest it was chaos. Then again, we’d be in chaos without him.”

“I wish they would make him our cabin’s counselor,” Percy said. He felt like he was being judged and coming up a failure. Without Alabaster, where would they be? 

Lou Ellen grimaced, “yeah. But they’ll never acknowledge a child of a minor god, that would be just too much.” Her tone was dry and sharp.

Percy wanted to apologize for his birth, but he couldn’t think of a way that wouldn’t sound ridiculous. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

    Percy claimed to have left his helmet to run back to the Hermes cabin after getting a faceful of soot from the Hephaestus cabin. The Hermes cabin had struck up a rivalry against the Hephestus kids the last few days, and Percy was pretty sure he knew why. 

    Gods it was easy to hate the claimed campers, even for Percy who was claimed. But, at least the kids who came to camp had a place to stay. 

    “Luke?” he called, sticking his head through the cabin door. “How are you?”

    No response came, just the faraway war whoops and bangs. 

“Luke?” Percy called again, slightly louder this time. “Are you here?”

No response came. 

Percy knocked on the wall, his chest constricting. Had Luke been found out? Worse, had Luke gone out? He stayed in the cabin for as long as he thought he could before going back to the battle.

Luke came back late that night, sweaty but not angry. He slipped into the cabin like a ghost, making no noise and almost invisible, but Percy had stayed up, waiting.

“Luke, what were you doing?” Percy whispered. “You can’t just run off.”

Luke sheathed his sword, the faint moonlight glittering harshly on the steel side, and leaned against the back wall of the Hermes cabin, staring at the forest. “I just needed to blow off some steam, relax. You know the old centaur could never catch me. And think about this, I just killed some monsters, that means fewer monsters you kids have to fight.” 

“Luke, you can’t just run off!” Percy hissed again. It was obvious that it was a losing battle though. 

Luke kept leaving the cabin the next few nights, coming back late. He was less angry, at least. Percy brought him food from meals and Luke somehow procured a collection of canned and bagged goods. He gave Percy a bar of spicy chocolate.

“It’s for Georgie,” Luke told Percy. “The Hephestus kids always love spicy sweets,” Luke didn’t outright say that he listened to everything at camp, but it showed.  

Georgie loved the chocolate.

Percy started to fall into the routine at camp again, two days wasn’t long but it didn’t feel short. Camp felt like he had always been there, fighting in the arena against Ethan with a wooden blade while he waited for Silena and Beckendorf to give him back Óplo tis gis . The days were warm and sunny, and it felt like home. 

Until Thursday night, because nothing in Percy’s life could be that easy.

It was getting late, after the campfire, when Alabaster had called “here, Perce, I have some time,” Alabaster looked genuinely happy for once, his usual dark aura lessened. “Ready to ask me some questions?”

“Yes, thank you!” Percy grabbed his lightest jacket to protect against bugs without overheating and followed Alabaster.

They walked into the woods. Percy’s nerves twanged but he tried to ignore them. He didn’t need to feel afraid, he had Alabaster with him. 

Maybe his nerves were just on end. He’d been replaying the prophecy in his mind, trying to make sense of it.

What you seek will be made yours . Check. They’d found the bolt.

Secrets found behind locked doors. Also, check. They’d found Luke behind the locked door, and his existence was definitely a secret.

Inside the home, a traitor will lay . Percy wasn’t sure about that one. Ares had betrayed them, but he wasn’t in Percy’s home. …Luke had been in Percy’s house, was it about that?

Win the battle, lose the day . Percy had won the fight against Ares, but what was the day he had lost?  Maybe it was just about the Lotus Hotel.

Percy tried to put all of his worries out of his head. Alabaster had always been a good brother to Ethan and took care of the Hermes cabin, now Percy had a chance to learn from him.

Alabaster brought them to a shaded grove in the woods, next to a stream, and sat down on a large rock. “Here, have a coke,” Percy couldn’t even see where Alabaster pulled it from, but he accepted it gratefully, taking a sip. 

“At the end of this stream is a pool with a little island in the middle of it,” Alabaster said. “There are little shrines on the island for demigods who didn’t survive their summers.”

Percy shifted, sitting down cross-legged, “are there people you know there?” It felt invasive to ask, but he also felt like he needed to know, like this gaping hole was inside of him, trying to suck everything in. He felt like Tartarus. 

“Yeah,” Alabaster looked at the bark next to Percy’s head. “My sister, Allie, the one who died under Grover’s watch,” Alabaster’s voice hardened. “But there’s stuff there from years and years ago, kids of Hermes even. Those are mostly desecrated, but a few remain.”

Desecrated. People had gone and desecrated the memorials to Percy’s dead siblings, the ones he would never get to know. 

“How do you live with it?” Percy asked. Tartarus inside of him felt like it was angry, like something was boiling inside of him. 

Alabaster laughed hollowly, “Percy, how can anyone live with it?” He switched topics abruptly, “do you miss being on your quest?”

“No,” Percy didn’t like being constantly attacked, but he did like being on the road. He liked having quiet time with his friends too, but he could get that at camp. He hadn’t missed the stares and whispers from campers. “Do you?”

Alabaster shook his head, “I think everyone does. It’s when you feel useful, like you aren’t just sitting around all day doing nothing.”

“Yeah,” Percy didn’t know how to reply. He loved being useful, but the gods using him just felt like being helpless. “I don’t like the gods jerking me around, though. I did a quest for them, they voted on my life. Where’s the logic there?”

Alabaster raised his coke in the air, “who said the gods have logic? They sent me on my quest, but when I dared ask them for anything, even just a place for me to live, they tried to destroy me.” 

A shadow passed over his face.

He looked inhuman for a moment. Everyone whispered about his intimidating aura, but in the shadow, he looked otherworldly. His skin looked so pale it shone, his eyes a brighter purple, his scar faded. He looked like a cruel fairy, perfect and unloving. 

“You’re going to be in charge of the cabin from here on out, I’ve written you a list of things to remember. Don’t be afraid to ask Lou Ellen for help.”

“You sound like you won’t be there to help me,” Percy said.

“Oh I won’t,” Alabaster crumpled up his coke and threw it on the ground.

No one ever littered at camp, not when the woods were alive and filled with people who would fill your sheets— or sleeping bag —with centipedes and mud. 

“I’m just here to say goodbye,” Alabaster stood up, holding his hand out. 

Red magic crackled in it, and Percy felt the burning inside him intensify painfully. It had felt like just emotions before, but now his nerves screamed in agony. 

“Why, Alabaster?” he asked. “Why?” 

Alabaster shook his head, “we should get to be normal teenagers, Percy. Don’t you think it’s cruel to train and train a child to fight for their lives and then throw them out after a quest? I took care of the cabin. I made sure everyone was healthy and alive, and what do I get? Nothing! I had to go to someone stronger, someone who removed the blocks on my magic and made me more powerful than ever.” Alabaster sounded like Luke had. 

“Alabaster, you can stop,” Percy pleaded. 

“The gods failed at destroying me,” Alabaster said calmly, more calmly than someone should have been able to say while glowing like a beautiful statue. “So I’m going to destroy them.”

“Kronos,” Percy felt the darkness around him with the name. “That’s who Emelina has seen in her dreams.” 

“I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy,” Alabaster said. “Didn’t you feel it – the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics – being pawns of the gods. They should’ve been overthrown thousands of years ago, but they’ve hung on, thanks to us half-bloods.”

“But some of them are good, they’re still our parents.” 

“Yeah, your parents who never show up. Tell Georgie that you want to protect his dad, that you can just accept the neglect. The only way to stop it is to burn it to the ground, start over with something more honest.”

His eyes flared. “Ares is a fool. He never realized the true master he was serving. If I had time, Percy, I could explain. But I’m afraid you won’t live that long.”

“So why didn’t you bring the items to Kronos?” As long as Alabaster was talking the pain didn’t increase. 

Alabaster’s aura wavered, “I… I got overconfident. Zeus sent out his sons and daughters to find the stolen bolt – Artemis, Apollo, your dad, Hermes. But it was Ares who caught me. I could have beaten him, but I wasn’t careful enough. He disarmed me, took the items of power, and threatened to return them to Olympus, and burn me alive. Then Kronos’s voice came to me and told me what to say. I put the idea in Ares’s head about a great war between the gods. I said all he had to do was hide the items away for a while and watch the others fight. Ares got a wicked gleam in his eyes. I knew he was hooked. He let me go, and I returned to Olympus before anyone noticed my absence. Afterward, the Lord of the Titans… h-he punished me with nightmares. I swore not to fail again. Back at Camp Half-Blood, in my dreams, I was told that a second hero would arrive, one who could be tricked into taking the bolt and the helmet the rest of the way – from Ares down to Tartarus.”

“You summoned the hellhound, that night in the forest. You were using your magic.” 

Alabaster smiled, “you’re smart. Shame you won’t live long. Hey, you got more time than you were supposed to.”

“The cards on our backs,” Percy said. “You meant to drag us to Tartarus? You meant to drag Ethan?” 

Alabaster scowled, “I knew he could understand in time but then you ruined him. Nemesis’ children are too loyal above all else. You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don’t worry, I’ll set things right.”

The pain intensified more and more until Percy let out a scream.

“HELP!” he shouted.

“There’s no one coming to the forest tonight, Percy. Everyone is safe in their beds.”

 Percy wheezed, curled into a ball as he seemed to implode, “please.”

Then, there was a sound at the edge of the clearing. Alabaster’s face dropped in shock, but then he just grinned again, the red magic around him burning brighter and brighter. 

“So, the plan worked, and Mr. Attempted-Coup is out of his jar. I look forward to your help, Luke. Ares wouldn’t have given Percy the key without someone whispering advice into his ear.”

Percy could barely see but he could hear Luke’s response.

“Alabaster, Kronos should know better.” The titan's name hung in the air. 

There was the sound of Luke drawing his blade, and Alabaster cried out before a pop sounded. 

Percy’s world went dark, his body filled with fire. 

Percy awoke in a bright purple room. He felt like every bone in his body had been replaced with lava from the climbing wall. There was a straw in his mouth. The liquid in it tasted like his mom’s masoub, the warm taste of banana and honey. Nectar. He peeled open his eyes further.

Percy was in a place that he could only assume was the Dionysus cabin. The walls around him were bright purple with maddening patterns on them, obscured by grape vines heavy with fruit. There was a desk across the room, and little knick-knacks on shelves all around. Luke sat at the end of his bed, next to a worried Pollux. 

“How are you feeling?” Pollux asked.

Percy groaned, turning his head back to the nectar “I feel like my insides have been frozen, then microwaved, and all my bones are actually evil.” 

“Alabaster was casting a pretty heavy-duty level spell,” Luke told Percy, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “I couldn’t bring you back to the Hermes cabin where everyone is, and I’d already been hanging out with Castor and Pollux. Castor is getting Ethan and seeing if he can find Grover.” 

“What?” Percy tried to wrap his head around everything. “How did Luke even meet you guys?”

Pollux smiled, “not in a bad way, but Castor sensed when someone whose brain wasn’t quite on right came to camp, plus, we were both up when you snuck back in. We have more free reign than most people here, so we set out looking for him.”

Percy sipped the nectar. He felt terrible. It was more than just the nectar, though. Alabaster had done this. He’d been wrong to trust him. Alabaster had wanted him dead. 

“Luke, what happened?” he croaked. 

Luke sighed, “I’m waiting for Ethan to tell you guys everything I saw, but you have more of the story than I do.” 

The three of them sat there in silence. Percy took in the bed he was in for the first time. The sheets were a soft pink and behind his head– was that a stuffed animal? Percy pulled the small stuffed gecko out from behind him. It was clearly worn, the nose almost rubbed through. 

Pollux scratched behind his neck nervously, “that’s Colotes. Dad gave it to me when we first came to camp.” 

Percy looked at the nine beads on Pollux’s necklace. 

“How old were you?”

“Dad brought me and Castor here when we were three,” Pollux looked over at Luke. “He’s a good guy, honest, so don’t try to overtake him or something.”

Luke winced, “he wasn’t the god I hated the most.”

“Good.”

Percy heard a faint creek, and two sets of footsteps. The door to Pollux’s room opened and Castor stepped inside, followed by Ethan.

“Ethan!” Percy called. He instantly regretted it, pain shooting through his body. 

Ethan ran over to the bed, “can I sit down?” 

Pollux nodded and motioned to a spot on the bed. 

Percy relaxed when Ethan sat down next to him, reaching his hand out. “Ethan, I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” Ethan looked like he was about to cry.

So, Percy began the story. He told the audience of four about Alabaster admitting he served a titan and stole the bolt, then almost killed Percy– and he tried to kill Percy and Ethan in the underworld. At the end, Luke jumped in.

“I’ve been going out to the woods at night and killing monsters, just getting used to my body and coming to terms with life, but I felt something off when Percy entered the forest so I followed him. Then, Alabaster pulled his stuff, so I did what I could to get him to leave.” Luke locked eyes with Percy, and Percy got the message. He was not to speak to Castor and Pollux about how Luke tried to kill Alabaster.

“How could Alabaster do this?” Ethan put his face in his hands, failing to hide his sniffles. “We were family!”

Everyone turned to Percy again. How do you tell your second-best friend that his basically brother tried to kill him because of you?

“He said Nemesis kids are too loyal,” Percy tried to reach for Ethan but the movement felt like it sloshed his insides around.

“He was never the same after the quest,” Castor offered. “He became angrier and angrier, however right he may have been.”

“How do we tell everyone?” Pollux asked his twin. Castor shook his head.

“Pol, you know no one would believe us. The wine kids, a son of Nemesis, a son of Hermes, and a rebel brought back from the dead– we don’t exactly make a convincing team.”

Percy lay back, his eyes closing again, “I’m sorry, Ethan.” Percy felt Ethan grab his hand, and then the world went blissfully dark again. 

Percy came truly to consciousness Friday morning, joining the Hermes cabin for breakfast. Everyone was whispering about where Alabaster had gone. The general consensus was that he’d left because he wasn’t needed anymore, but to Percy, the excuse seemed flimsy. 

Percy went through the day trying to fill the space Alabaster had left. In arts and crafts, he tried to help people, but everyone was older and had been at camp longer. 

At least people let him try. Marcy and Lynx let him roll their handcrafted dice, Nova, the new kid, let him help make a tiny wire bed, and even Lou Ellen seemed to be trying to support him. Lou Ellen was better at the stuff than Percy, but she didn’t seem bitter about him stepping in. Mostly, Percy curled up next to Ethan. Percy still didn’t feel great, and he knew that Ethan’s emotional state wasn’t far from his physical one, so it was nice to be close. He wished Grover could help him, but he’d gotten wind of some Pan sightings and left, “just for a few days.”

Before capture the flag, Percy stood awkwardly at the front of the Hermes cabin. 

“Hey, guys,” he began. “I know I’m not Alabaster, and I haven’t even been at camp to know how cabin meetings are conducted, but I’m willing to try my best.” Lou Ellen whooped from the back, drawing out a few laughs from the tense cabin. “Just think, at the end of next week we can capture the flag for the Hermes cabin.”

That did draw a few claps, Thomas, Emelina, Marcy, Lynx, Lou Ellen. 

“I welcome any help people are willing to give,” Percy looked around, trying to think of what else to say. “Does anyone know where the minutes are?”

After the cabin meeting, which was successful for what it was, Percy walked outside and was greeted by Silena and Beckendorf. 

“It’s finished!” Silena held out the box in her hand. It was tiny, with silver engraving on it. “Open it!”

Percy took the box nervously, watching as his cabinmates filed out behind him. Inside lay a single earring. It was a crescent the same color as his sickle. 

“We can pierce your ear tonight!” Silena informed Percy cheerfully. “But don’t worry, you can still use it for capture the fag. Watch,” she pulled the front part of the earring. 

Óplo tis gis appeared in her hand, the earring backing vanishing.

“The sickle can be shrunk by pressing the button on the handle and twisting,” Beckendorf demonstrated. “Welcome to the counselor team.”

Percy felt bad that the whole Hermes cabin could see the moment. “Thank you,” he said, taking the sickle. 

The Hermes cabin fought on Athena’s side and won, whooping in the forest. Percy’s body didn’t ache so much as he ran through the woods, Ethan at his side.

The next few weeks faded into a real routine. On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by Cabin Nine. Being Hephaestus’s kids, they weren’t going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They’d anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. The finale was supposed to be a couple of thirty-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

Grover returned that day, sitting with the Hermes cabin on their blanket, but he was there to say goodbye. He looked older and had more confidence in his step. He brought with him some enchiladas he’d made. They weren’t great, but Ethan and Percy suffered through them.

“I’m off,” he said. “I just came to say… well, you know.”

It was really, really, really hard to say goodbye. Grover was Percy’s oldest friend, a friendship built over weekends in Percy’s kitchen, laughing so hard their stomachs hurt. 

Ethan asked him where he was going to search first.

“Kind of a secret,” he said, looking embarrassed. “I wish you could come with me, guys, but humans and Pan…”

“I get it,” Percy said. And he did, ignoring how much it hurt for him to see Grover go. “You’re going to do great, Grover.”

Grover gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway, his back straighter than it had been when Percy had first met him... “Well,” he said, “wish me luck.”

Grover hugged Percy and Ethan, then walked into the woods as the fireworks played overhead. 

“We’ll see him again,” Lou Ellen said. She was seated behind Percy, watching the fireworks explode through glazed-over eyes. 

Percy tried to believe it, but the fact that no searcher had ever come back in two thousand years wouldn’t leave his head. Grover would be the first. He had to be.

July passed.

Percy spent his days devising new strategies for capture the flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of Ares’ hands. Finally, the last week of July, the Hermes cabin got to lead a side. 

They made alliances with the Dionysus cabin, where Castor and Pollux had taken in a new roommate who needed to stay in the cabin all the time due to technically being dead, the Aphrodite cabin, the Hephestus cabin, which was easy to convince once Percy had Silena, and the Demeter cabin.

The Zeus cabin led the Apollo cabin, the Poseidon cabin (albeit grudgingly on the Poseidon side), the Athena cabin, and, of course, the Ares cabin. 

Percy never felt so good as he did that night, watching the Hermes cabin’s plan play out. The Aphrodite kids hid the banner and then attacked in different spots, using bright flashes of mirrors and clouds of perfume to screw up the Apollo cabin, whose residents were sensitive to everything sense-wise. They also helped Castor and Pollux turn the Athena, Poseidon, and Zeus kids against each other, which wasn’t hard. The Hephestus cabin guarded the flag while the Hermes cabin covered Percy. 

They literally had luck on their side that night, Marcy and Lynx using just about every trick in Tyche’s book to slip them through. Lou Ellen hid the party, while Emelina and Nova made the guards just a little sleepier than they should have been. Butch helped Lou Ellen with illusions as the Hermes cabin fought the Zeus one, Thomas and Ali covering Georgie. 

Percy had offered to let Georgie work with the Hephestus cabin, but the kid was stubborn, clinging to Thomas’ hand with pleading eyes. 

Percy let the kid climb on his back to hold the flag as he bounded over into friendly territory, the flag turning yellow, a caduceus appearing. 

It wasn’t the first time a caduceus had been above Percy at the end of a capture the flag game, but it was the first time he had felt proud, wings flapping enough to raise him into the air in triumph. 

He spent more time with Ethan, sparring against him. The ear piercing took a little to get used to, but Percy thought he liked the look.

Two Zeus kids went off to guard the well of immortality and were hailed back with high honors, and people stopped caring as much about Percy. 

Well, they stopped being nice to him at least. 

There were all the camp whispers about him being a son of Hermes, but Percy didn’t think he cared that much about those. He was doing his best as cabin head, with a lot of help from his friends. The days were long and golden, drifting off to sleep while planning more bed acquisitions. 

The Athena and Hephaestus cabin worked together to design bunks that folded into the walls.

The Hermes cabin was still squashed, and still felt a little impersonal, but it was getting better. As the end of summer approached Percy kept turning it all over in his head. Did he stay at camp, and do his job? He half wanted to go home, to live his normal life, but he had a new life at camp. 

Luke was no help.

“Either way your talents will be wasted. If you just go back off to your old life, you’ll continue petty crime. If you stay here, you’ll never find your potential. But if you come with me and travel I can teach you everything. We could even bring Ethan.”

The idea seemed better than Percy let himself admit. He wanted to have time with Luke, not just sneaking around at camp. Luke had made his plan to travel the world in the fall clear. 

He tried to bring it up to Ethan, but Ethan just shrugged. “Percy, I don’t have a family to return to,” Ethan said, sitting on the green hill above the strawberry fields. “I’ve only ever known camp.”

The last night of the summer session came all too quickly.

The campers had one last meal together. They burned part of dinner for the gods. At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads.

Percy got his own leather necklace, finally. He wished there wasn’t enough light to see the bead that was on it.

“This summer was marked with two events,” Ira said. “A bad omen and a job well done. This bead commemorates the son of Hermes’ arrival, and the brave quest completed by Lily and Amy to keep us all safe from threats beyond our imaginations.” 

The bead showed a well with dark wings that looked like a color-swapped version of Percy’s. In front of the well stood two silhouettes, swords drawn.

Half the camp hollered and cheered, but the other half stayed quiet. This hadn’t been a democratic decision, and it showed. 

Percy wanted to cry. He’d found a home and a family, but the camp was at war with itself. And he missed his mom. Percy knew most campers would leave the next day, but most of the Zeus kids remained year-round. 

“What if you could go to a normal school?” Percy had asked Ethan. “Like in the mortal world?”

“I wish I could try that,” Ethan had said. 

And Percy thought that Luke might be more attached to him than he admitted. He was certainly close to the twins, an older brother they hadn’t had, but he couldn’t stay at camp year-round. 

The next morning, Percy found a form letter on his bed. 

         Dear Peter Johnson,

         If you intend to stay at Camp Half-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions,we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit!

Mr. D

 Summer was over, and Percy still hadn’t answered his mother, or the camp, about whether he would be staying. Now he had only a few hours to decide.

The decision should have been easy: Nine months of hero training or nine months of sitting in a classroom.

But there was his mom to consider. 

      How many monsters would attack him if he left Half-Blood Hill? If Percy, who now knew about the mythical world, stayed in one place for a whole school year, without Chiron or his friends around to help him, would he and his mom even survive till next summer? That was assuming the spelling tests and five-paragraph essays didn’t kill him.

At the end of the day though, Percy thought he knew what he needed to do. He asked Butch to set up an Iris message so he could see his mom, then, he went to talk to his cabin.

Lou Ellen sat on her bed, her collection of crystals in front of her. “Hey Percy,” she said. “Ready for the year?”

“You’re good at this,” Percy tapped his fingers nervously on his bed. “Chiron and Mr. D said I could appoint someone interim counselor if I wanted to go home, and I can’t think of anyone better than you at all this. You have the experience but also you care about everyone here and I know I can trust you to keep them safe.” 

Lou Ellen looked pained for a moment before returning to her bubbly self. “Percy,” she said. “You’ve done such a great job.”

Percy hugged her, feeling the bones in her back. She seemed sicker than she had before, but it could have been his imagination. 

He must have hugged everyone in the Hermes cabin ten times before he went to see Luke and Ethan.

    Sally had driven her minivan to the bottom of half-blood hill, waving as Percy set down his stuff. He waved at the Hermes cabin and then indulged in one more round of hugs. Castor and Pollux’s ‘uncle,’ (who was definitely not a long dead son of Hermes) who had come for the last hours of camp (despite no one seeing him arrive) followed Percy to the bottom of the hill, helping carry Ethan’s bag. 

    Luke called shotgun, much to Percy and Ethan’s annoyance, but the whole ride to Sally’s apartment, which she would be moving out of whenever she could find a place big enough for three children, they did their best to torment him. Percy knew he looked different than he had when he arrived at camp, longer hair, more worries in his eyes, and a pierced ear, but his mother hugged him like nothing had changed, and then swept his friends up beside him.

    He was going home.

    Annabeth didn’t know where she was, but she felt like she was dying again and again. She’d come to wakefulness slowly, day by day, roots binding her. But now, as she finally had enough strength to break free from her prison.

Half-blood hill cracked in half, and a girl emerged, covered in dirt. Annabeth turned back, and moved her hands together, sealing the hill back up like a broken seam. 

She walked down the hill, taking in the stars above her and the cabins before her.

“Time to go back to camp.”