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Chapter Text

The last thing Percy wanted to do that year was blow up another school. He and his Mother were waiting in front of Goode highschool, nervously watching students wander in. Percy had been doing better about getting kicked out of schools since he came back in time, but there was never a guarantee. He’d even managed to go to Meriweather for two years in a row. And the only reason he was considering Goode is because his mom's new boyfriend Paul Blofis insisted on it. And because Rachel was going there that year. 

Percy had been talking with her over email for the past few months, slowly working his way into telling her that, yes, the myths were real. It went about as well as one could expect all the way up until Frank turned into a monkey and sat on top of her head. After that she believed him pretty easily. She was leaning against the side of the school, watching every person that came in carefully. The nervous tap tap tap of her hand against her thigh was the only sign that she had seen something that upset her. Percy quickly told his mom goodbye and kissed her cheek before he hopped out to meet his friend. 

“Hey Red what’s up?” 

Rachel shot him a venomous glare for the nickname but jerked her chin over to a gathering of cheerleaders, “what’s up with them?” 

He glanced over to them and scrunched his face. Kelli and Tammie, right. A pair of Empousai who somehow knew where he was going to be going to school that year. And what Rachel was seeing was their mismatched legs, one metal and one a donkeys. Percy had to squint and really focus to even see the outline of their legs. Of course he was not the one that was blessed with the ability to see through the Mists, that all went to Rachel. And Annabeth, but different circumstances. 

“Don’t worry,” he whispered to her, “I’ve got it covered.” 

Rachel rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the stomach. Percy knew it was a bad idea to introduce her to Clarisse. Yeah it was great that she was getting some self defense training, but now she bullied him! They filed into the Gym with the rest of the freshmen, doing their best to keep their heads down and remain unnoticed. Percy wondered how many of them had to worry about being the sole savior of the known world. 

Oh how fun his life was. 

Rachel nearly fell out of the bleachers from her giggles watching the monsters act like regular cheerleaders. At the same time he could see her nervously rubbing her thumb against the celestial bronze ring she wore. As a Mortal, Rachel didn’t carry a real weapon, but the ring would pack a punch if she ever needed to throw one. Annabeth had tried to talk her into keeping a metal garrotte wire but Rachel had turned green and denied the offer. 

They slipped away close to the end, finding themselves in the band room. Percy leaned against the wall next to the door and tossed Riptide back and forth between his hands. Rachel perched on one of the tables and started carefully tracing a butterfly onto the hem of her jeans. It didn’t take long for the door to be pushed open. 

“Percy Jackson! How nice to mee-” Tammie didn’t get to finish her sentence before her head met the ground. Minus her body. 

“You murdered my Trainee!” Kelli wailed, “now you must die!” 

Percy just rolled his eyes. Rachel called out skill points as he swung on Kelli. He flipped her off and ducked under a swipe from razor sharp nails. Kelli’s eyes lit up at the sound of a tour group getting closer. But Percy had learned better this time, and he was able to stab her through the chest before she could frame him for throwing a molotov. She exploded into dust with an angry wail that sounded like a hot tea kettle. Percy and Rachel quickly kicked the dust around so it looked like someone had just spilled glitter and slipped into the back of the group. 

As soon as the tour was over Percy waved goodbye to Rachel and ducked out. His face split open in a grin at the sight of Annabeth waiting on the corner. She was wearing what he was about fairly sure was one of Frank's sweaters, half tucked into the band of her cargo shorts and docs, with her customary braid that had her garrotte wire threaded through it. The smile that spread across her face took Percy’s breath away. He caught her bridal style as she launched herself at him and spun them around twice. 

New executive order: Annabeth wasn’t allowed to spend the school year with her father anymore. It had been months since they were able to do more than Iris Message. And it was a good thing Hazel had been pulled out of the Underworld because the Seven were keeping the Goddess of Rainbows and Messages well funded. He pressed his face into her hair, catching a whole lungful of the smell of coconut and paper. His Annabeth. 

He let her down, one hand wrapped around her wrist to keep her close, “hey Wise Girl.” 

“Did you have fun?” she asked. 

“Always.” 

Annabeth huffed and started pulling him down the road. They stopped by his apartment to grab his bag, staying long enough for his Mom to smother Annabeth in kisses, and caught a cab to take to Camp. They got let out at the base of the Hill and hiked the rest of the way, making sure to stop and say hello to their Security Dragon Pelus. Their other security Dragon Festus was out searching for Luke's ship, Leo as his captain. 

“Let's go see Chiron before the Trial,” Percy suggested. 

Annabeth nodded and they jogged over to the Big House. As they passed through, campers took notice of them, and whispers started flying. Percy was used to it after two lifetimes of being under the spotlight, but it was different this go round. Not only was he the ‘one the prophecy spoke about’ but people were more wary around him. His ease taking down challenging monsters, his apparent easy dealings with the Gods, and the way he had lost his temper when Annabeth was taken over winter break, had all led to him being a little darker of a figure. 

“Hey Jackass!” 

Okay. He was a dark figure to those who didn’t take the fifteen minutes to look through his act and realize that he was an idiot. Percy whirled around to see Clarisse stomping his way, her electric spear Lamar held over her shoulder. Clarisse had cut her hair too, now matching him. Percy held his hand out for a fist bump, only wincing a bit at the force Clarisse put behind it. 

“How’s it going? You get a date yet?” 

Yeah Percy deserved the punch to the shoulder for that one. Apparently- and okay maybe he was an idiot for not realizing the first time- Clarisse had a thing for Silena. Yes, that one. No he had not told her about the whole traitor thing. He personally found it doubly hilarious that Clarisse had realized she was queer on their shared quest in the Sea of Monster, on Circe’s island. Anyway, Piper had been trying to set the two girls up as a pet project. Silena was dating Charles Beckendorf though, which considering how Clarisse tended to watch him when he passed… probably not really an issue. Camp was fun. 

“No, dick face, not that it’s any of your business. Chase Chrion want’s to speak to you. Alone.” 

Percy just raised a brow at that. Clarisse shrugged. He let Annabeth go and wandered off to put his things away. Cabin Three had drastically changed since he first moved in. No longer was it a barren stone cabin with hardly any life. Now Percy left his camp things up year round, there were hair ties for the girls, one of Leo's projects was gathering dust in the corner, a pair of Grover’s fake shoes had drowned to death in the fountain. He had turned it into his home. He put away the extra clothes that he had brought and spotted gleaming metal hung on the wall. 

Tyson had come by to fix his shield while he was at school. But that wasn’t all. Something else hung on the wall. Percy went to investigate, brows furrowed in confusion. The only way he could think to describe it was… a knife on a string? The blade was celestial bronze, stamped with a large feather down the middle. And the rope itself seemed to be about six feet long and had threads of celestial bronze wound through it. If the feather didn’t make it clear the note attached saying ‘for Annie’ did. Percy shrugged, he would give it to Annabeth later. 

He made his way to the Arena, willing to blow off a little steam by practicing. Percy paused at the great lump of shadow that was pinning someone down and excitedly licking all over their face. The rarely heard giggle of Nico Di Angelo warmed his salted heart. 

“Oh she just adores him,” a voice said from beside him, “I get the feeling it's cause they’re both made of the same stuff but who knows. Maybe she really likes the treats he thinks I don’t know about.” 

Percy turned and looked the newcomer over quickly. He had intense gray eyes and gray hair and a clipped gray beard. He was in good shape for an older guy. He wore black mountain-climbing pants and a bronze breastplate strapped over an orange camp T-shirt. At the base of his neck was a strange mark, a purplish blotch like a birthmark or a tattoo. Percy slowly nodded to Daedalus, or Quintus as he was currently being called. 

“Sorry, I don’t know everyone in Camp yet. I’m Quintus, I’m helping out with sword training and keeping an eye on things while Lord Dionysus is away.” 

“Percy Jackson.” 

“Ah, I’ve heard of you.” 

A sharp whistle drew all of their attention. Chrion trotted into the Arena, waving to Percy. Percy nodded to Quintus and jogged to Chirons side. 

“First things first, Percy. Annabeth told me you met some empousa.”

Percy nodded and explained everything that happened, including the whole situation with Rachel. Chiron looked uneasy with the news, tail swishing nervously. The dark circles under the old centaurs' eyes had gotten worse, and Percy could have sworn that there was more gray in his hair. Though pointing that out felt a little hypocritical considering his own lock of gray. 

“We must speak of this further. But for now, come, we should get to the woods. Grover will want you there.” 

Percy followed after Chiron, carefully shoving the anger down in his chest. If he started freezing the forest then the Dryads would come for his head. Chiron took them in a way he didn’t recognize, through a tunnel of old willow trees, past a little waterfall, and into a glade blanketed with wildflowers. Percy knew that even if he tried to follow the exact same path himself he would never find the Glade because of the magic protecting it. A bunch of Satyrs were sitting in a circle in the grass. Grover stood in the middle, facing three really old, really fat Satyrs who sat on topiary thrones shaped out of rose bushes.

Grover seemed to be telling them a story. He twisted the bottom of his Shirt, shifting nervously on his goat hooves. Standing off to one side of the circle were Annabeth, another girl, and Clarisse. Chiron dropped him next to them. Annabeth immediately slid her hand under his shirt, drumming her fingers against the small of his back. She was the only one who could get away with the move, and it was like a pause button directly to his brain. It was a good strategy to keep him from saying something he shouldn’t. 

Annabeth had her other arm around the other girl, who looked like she’d been crying. Grover’s girlfriend Juniper, a Dryad that lived at Camp. She was sweet, and normally not a sobbing mess. 

“Master Underwood!” the council member on the right shouted, cutting off whatever Grover was trying to say. “Do you seriously expect us to believe this?”

“B- but it’s the truth!” Grover stuttered. 

Now Percy had a thing about liars. Growing up the way he had with an abusive step-father as well as all the ‘accidents’ that came from being a Half Blood led to him being accused of lying pretty often. And Percy hated it. He would rather be called almost any slur than a liar. And when he lost his temper about it he was always accused of overreacting. So hearing Grover, one of his best friends and the most passionate Searcher he knew, be accused of lying had Percy leaning forward with a deadly glare. 

The elders didn’t look very impressive. They reminded him of the goats in a petting zoo—huge bellies, sleepy expressions, and glazed eyes that couldn’t see past the next handful of goat chow. Percy knew why Grover seemed so nervous though, the three in front of him commanded all of the Satyrs in their mission to find Pan. Silenus tugged his yellow polo shirt over his belly and adjusted himself on his rosebush throne.

“Master Underwood, for six months—six months!— we have been hearing these scandalous claims that you heard the wild god Pan speak.”

“But I did!” Grover protested. 

“Impudence!” the Satyr on the right cried out. 

“That would be me,” Percy cut in. 

He didn’t particularly care that he was breaking traditions. He strolled up to stand next to Grover, twirling Riptide in pen form between his fingers. Maybe sometimes his reputation did come in handy, because all three of the fat old Satyrs went pale when he smiled at them. 

“I was also there for this occurrence and will vouch for Grover. If you would like another voice to be heard you could also call upon Thalia Grace, Lieutenant to the Lady Artemis who was there as well.” 

“I’ve had it up to my horns with this nonsense. As if the wild god would speak… to him .” the one in the middle yelled. 

“Wrong fight, girlie,” Clarisse muttered from behind them, “Wait.” 

The Satyrs continued on as if Percy didn’t exist. He didn’t really think his words would have swayed them, but he had to make the attempt. If nothing else he enjoyed watching them sweat and squirm. Especially when he took control of those sweat drops and turned them frosty cold. 

“I just need more time!” Grover pleaded. 

“More time? More time?! For six months, we have indulged you, Master Underwood. We let you travel. We allowed you to keep your searcher’s license. We waited for you to bring proof of your preposterous claim. And what have you found in six months of travel?”

“I’m sure Pan spoke to us! It could not have been anything else!” 

Silenus raised his hand. Chiron leaned in and said something to the satyrs. The satyrs didn’t look happy. They muttered and argued among themselves, but Chiron said something else, and Silenus sighed. He nodded reluctantly. 

“We will give you one final chance,” he said loftily, as if it was the kindest gift they could bestow upon Grover, “we will give you one more week.” 

“A week?” Grover yelped. “That’s impossible! We have been searching for two thousand years and you expect me to succeed in a week?” 

“One more week, Master Underwood. And then, if you cannot prove your claims, it will be time for you to pursue another career. Something to suit your dramatic talents. Puppet theater, perhaps. Or tap dancing.”

“But sir I-” 

“This meeting of the council is adjourned,” Silenus said. “And now let us enjoy our noonday meal!”

The old satyr clapped his hands, and a bunch of nymphs melted out of the trees with platters of vegetables, fruits, tin cans, and other goat delicacies. The circle of satyrs broke and charged the food. Grover turned to them, tears in his big brown eyes. His faded blue T-shirt had a picture of a satyr on it. It read GOT HOOVES? Percy immediately pulled him into a tight hug before depositing him into Juniper's arms. 

“Those old goats!” Juniper said. “Oh, Grover, they don’t know how hard you’ve tried!”

“There’s another option,” Clarisse said darkly. 

Juniper shook her head so rapidly the wysteria twined through her hair lost petals, “no! I won’t let you!” 

His face was ashen. “I—I’ll have to think about it. But we don’t even know where to look.”

Percy fisted his hand around Riptide before sliding the pen into his pocket. There was nothing he could do realistically. Speaking up in the meeting had been a last ditch effort that he hadn’t thought would work anyway. But that was how it always was wasn’t it? Someone in their group being given a bullshit ultimatum with an even more asinine time limit. In the distance a conch shell blew, summoning them to dinner. Percy reluctantly went, Clarisse and Annabeth at his sides. They ate before Percy went racing for his cabin. 

He’d forgotten about the summer inspection. Again! Every year after the first week of Camp one of the Heads of Cabins got assigned to inspect each Cabin. The best got first dibs on their schedule making and the worst had dish duty. The problem was that Percy was not the type of ADHD that cleaned when he got stressed. And Silena was doing the inspections, and she was a stickler for having things neat and tidy. He burst through the door and rammed face first into what might as well have been a brick wall wearing flannel. Percy stumbled back, looking up into a single chocolate brown eye that was staring at him. 

He then proceeded to be crushed half to death by the world's biggest cyclops hug. Percy wheezed, legs kicking lightly at Tyson. After long enough that Percy began to see stars he was released. 

“Brother!” 

“Hey big guy,” he croaked. 

Percy looked around the cabin for any other intruders and realized that Tyson had cleaned it for him. All of his random things had been sorted neatly into his cubbies, his armor was sitting properly on its stand, the various candy wrappers hiding in the corners had been thrown away. Percy gave Tyson another hug in thanks for saving him from dish duty. 

“You are okay?” Tyson asked, “not eaten by monsters?” 

“Only a little!” Percy joked. 

The monster situation had gotten odd over the past year. After Percy had his little breakdown and gotten the full taste of his Domains and the Aspects of his possible Godhood he thought that the monsters would ramp up. He had essentially jumped up to level nine after all, his scent had to be ringing the dinner bell. But that wasn’t the case. The attacks had actually lessened, and he was only being attacked by upper level monsters. A few had gotten some lucky hits in, adding to his collection of scars, but Percy was still standing and still had all of his bits. 

“Yay! Now we can eat peanut butter sandwiches and ride fish ponies! We can fight monsters and see Annabeth and make things go BOOM!”

Percy really hoped he didn’t mean at the same time, but he laughed and nodded in agreement. Hanging out with his half brother was something he genuinely enjoyed and Percy had missed Tyson since he went to their fathers palace under the Seas to work as a Smith. A knock at the door announced the arrival of Silena. She did the inspection quickly, cooing over the copper Hippocampi Tyson had made and hung from the ceiling. Tyson blushed a dozen shades of red and called her pretty four different times. Thankfully Silena was used to him and rolled with it. 

“Well, you two did perfectly. No dish duty this time.” 

Percy cheered and fist pumped. Silena rolled her eyes and went on to the next cabin. He hoped it was the Hades cabin, Nico was even worse about remembering to tidy than Percy. Tyson and him spent the afternoon catching up and just hanging out, which was nice after a morning of getting attacked by demon cheerleaders. They went down to the forge and helped Beckendorf from the Hephaestus cabin with his metalworking. Tyson showed them how he’d learned to craft magic weapons. He fashioned a flaming double-bladed war ax so fast even Beckendorf was impressed. Percy made sure to tell him how proud he was, making Tyson attempt to crush him in a hug once more. 

Before Dinner Percy made his way back to the Arena. Nico and Mrs. O’Leary were gone, but Quintus (and Percy was going to call him that, just so he wouldn’t slip up on accident) was training. He gladly took the invitation to fight the older man. Percy remembered how the fight had gone the first time and his opinion still stood. Quintus was an excellent fighter who almost danced through his moves, plans made multiple steps out. The only way Percy could begin to gain ground on him was to act as erratically as possible. It ended with him being far more cut up than he wanted to be, but he managed to level Riptide at Quintus’ throat. 

“Good! You really are as skilled as people say. That will help you in the long run.” 

Percy nodded and banished Riptide. He was sweaty and disgusting, in sore need of a shower. Quintus waved as he left but Percy could feel the eyes locked on his back. Showering in the Poseidon Cabin was fun because they used Salt Water. Which was something Percy had never noticed until Annabeth came raging out of the shower one day to yell at him. But the water invigorated his tired muscles and did decent work at healing up his cuts and bruises. He made sure to take a few big swigs of the nectar he kept in the bathroom to speed along the rest. 

He jogged over to the dining pavilion and got in line with Tyson. He gathered his food, made his offerings to the various Gods he bothered liking, and sat down to stuff his face. There was nothing like the Harpy cooked meals that Camp made for them. He sang along at the campfire, adding his voice to the chaos that was nearly a hundred demigods warbling loudly. Some of them were good singers… many were not. 

The fire crackled high, somewhere between lime green and yellow. Percy wanted to get lost in the joy and the noise but he was too aware of what was wrong. Of the older campers watching their younger siblings like hawks. Of the divides already being drawn within Camp of those who thought they were overreacting and those that didn’t. The campers that were spies watching them with dark eyes, either from anger or from sorrow. He saw how tightly Clarisse clung to the little Hephaestus girl that curled in her lap, he saw how Travis Stoll never looked to the Aphrodite cabin, he saw how Annabeth hovered behind Michael Yew. 

The War had only just begun. 

He went to bed that night heavy in his heart. Percy curled under the blankets and listened to Tyson snore for a good long while. He didn’t think he had to worry about dreams, but he was still reluctant to fall asleep. At some point he was able to drift off, twisting uneasily at the sounds of monsters roaring from outside of Camp boundaries. Percy only blearily lifted his blanket to let Nico crawl into the bed with him not long before dawn. The next morning when he woke up he just sighed at the sight of the boy curled at the foot of the bed in a tightly bunched fetal position. 

Now Percy, he was a physical person. He was constantly pulling the others into hugs or holding their hands and laying across their laps or generally initiating contact. Nico on the other hand wanted to be close, but did not really want to be touched. Jason was the only one of them that tended to drape himself across Nico and not get stabbed. And Hazel of course. Percy shook his head and carefully covered Nico with the blankets before he made his way to breakfast. Apparently around three in the morning an Aethiopian drakon had been spotted at the borders of camp.

That would explain the weird sound Percy had been hearing. He groggily ate his oatmeal and listened to the others talk about it. Lee Fletcher had managed to chase it off after attempting to turn it into a hedgehog with how many arrows were sticking out of the damn thing. A lot of the younger kids were visibly uneasy, clinging to their siblings or huddling closer to Dionysus. The old God kept shooing them away or casting them nasty glares, but Percy was sure he saw Him doing head counts. Once everyone was eating, Chiron and Grover came over to visit. Grover was bleary-eyed. His shirt was inside out. He slid his plate onto the table and slumped next to Percy. 

Percy butted their shoulders together. There wasn’t much else he could do yet. Not until Grover asked for help. The Seven had decided to bring Grover into the fold after the quest through the Labyrinth, but it wasn’t time yet. 

“I brought Grover over,” Chiron said, “because I thought you two might want to, ah, discuss matters. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some Iris Messages to send. I’ll see you later in the day.”

Chiron trotted away quickly. Percy watched him go, fighting down a snort at the absolute lack of subtlety. Like Percy wasn’t the greatest at picking up on social cues, but he wasn’t that bad, was he? Percy got distracted from his pondering by warmth invading his space. After a second Annabeth seemed to realize that she was still invisible and she shimmered into sight. Whispers immediately started up making him sigh and roll his eyes. Grover could get away with sitting where he wanted, same as Tyson, by the grace of not being Campers. Everyone else was supposed to stick to their tables. 

A stupid rule. Percy wanted to tell them that he frequently had at least one other demigod sleeping with him just to see how they would react. 

“Grover wants to go into the Labyrinth.” she said bluntly. 

Percy looked over to his friend. Grover nodded sadly, chewing on the tines of his metal fork. 

“But Clarisse barely made it out alive, and she’s one of the best fighters in Camp. And that’s not even mentioning what happened to poor Chris.” 

Chris Rodreiguez. Percy faintly remembered him. Clarisse had dragged him out of the Labyrinth half mad. They eventually ended up dating after the War. he wasn’t sure how he felt about the Hermes boy. Another demigod that had been pulled into Lukes madness and then tossed aside when he wasn’t useful. He glanced back over to Grover who had moved on from his fork and was now mangling a knife. 

“So what,” he said slowly, “you want to look through the Labyrinth to try and find Pan.” 

Grover nodded, “It’s the only place we Searchers haven’t thoroughly investigated. But the Council has forbidden it for centuries since the last excursion cost a whole generation of Searchers.” 

Percy winced. There were even less Satyrs than Demigods. Losing a whole generation could cripple them in their search. He tapped his fingers against the stone top of the table. It wasn’t like Percy was going to say no. He couldn’t have done that even before knowing everything he did! All Grover needed to do was send him those sad baby goat eyes and he folded like wet paper. Over at the head table, Quintus cleared his throat. Percy got the feeling he didn’t want to make a scene, but Annabeth was really pushing it, sitting at the Poseidon table for so long. 

She rolled her eyes and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, “does it make me a terrible person to watch them squirm?” 

Percy choked on a laugh and shooed her away. Annabeth rejoined her siblings, waving off their rapid fire questions. Percy curt his eyes over to Quintus, catching the there and gone smirk the man wore before he focussed on cutting his sausages with a dagger. He spent the rest of his day wandering around a bit aimlessly. Percy stopped by the Arena but was chased out by some Apollo kids, so he crashed in the stables for a while to chat with Blackjack before he tried to hunt down Nico. Instead he found a note taped to the door of the Hades cabin saying he was visiting his sister and would be back in a few weeks. 

Finally time for the games arrived. Quintus had everybody suit up and was walking through them, helping the younger kids out if they needed it. The mood was strangely somber. Someone had let it slip that Quintus had sourced them B tier monsters to fight and released them into the woods. Percy thought that Silena Beuregard was about to rip out the man's throat with her perfectly manicured fingernails. The Aphrodite cabin now had the youngest member, a toddler that had been dropped off outside the borders. Thankfully he would not be participating, but it couldn’t be healthy for him to see them all beat up and bloodied. 

“Right,” Quintus said, standing on the head dining table. “Gather ’round.” 

He was dressed in black leather and bronze. In the torchlight, his gray hair made him look like a ghost. Mrs. O’Leary bounded happily around him, foraging for dinner scraps. A hundred Demigods swung around to face him, the only sounds the crackling of fire and the creaking of armor. Quintus faltered for a second, before his smile came back in full force- if a little strained. 

“You will be in teams of two,” Quintus announced. When everybody started talking and trying to grab their friends, he yelled: “Which have already been chosen!”

Percy huffed. He couldn’t remember if he got paired with Annabeth or not. Maybe it would be good for them to be separated for a second, but he hated it. 

“Your goal is simple: collect the gold laurels without dying. The wreath is wrapped in a silk package, tied to the back of one of the monsters. There are six monsters. Each has a silk package. Only one holds the laurels. You must find the wreath before the other teams. And, of course…you will have to slay the monster to get it, and stay alive.”

Percy reflexively checked his weapons and ran quick fingers over his gear. His weapons were in their places, and most of his armor fastened down properly. He was waiting to put on his helmet with its short blue plume. As the only Poseidon kid in camp it set him apart from the rest of the campers, practically a target on his back. 

“I will now announce your partners,” Quintus said. “There will be no trading. No switching. No complaining.”

Quintus produced a big scroll and started reading off names. Beckendorf would be with Michael Yew, both boys were scarily smart and tended to be underestimated as fighters. The Stoll brothers, Travis and Connor, would be together. No surprise. They did everything together. Clarisse was with Lee Fletcher from the Apollo cabin—melee and ranged combat combined, they would be a tough combo to beat.

Finally Quintus got to his name, “Percy Jackson and Silena Beuregard.” 

He exhaled. Pressure shifted uneasily in his stomach as he drug his eyes through the crowd to meet Silena’s. Her pretty face had gone pale, pink eyes wide. Deep underneath them a rumble shifted through the earth. Percy ran his tongue down the back of his teeth and took a deep breath. He arranged his face into what he hoped was something pleasant and moved to Silena's side. She held herself tense beside him, like she wasn’t even breathing. 

“No complaining!” Quintus ordered. “Get with your partner. You have two minutes to prepare!”

Percy looked over, meeting Annabeth's wide eyes. Maybe they had pushed it too far with the stunt that morning. She had been paired off to Pollux, one of Dionysus’ two boys. Her mouth twitched up into a smile before she obviously turned and faced her partner. Percy huffed in annoyance and turned to Silena. It seemed like she had come out of the shock and momentary panic because she gave him a strained smile. 

“You ready for this?” 

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Chapter Text

“Yeah. Let’s go.” 

Percy led them into the forest, head tilting back and forth as he tried to listen more than he saw. It didn’t work as well on land as it did underwater, but he was able to pick up on where each of the campers were. Some kind of strange combination of echolocation and heat vision that could track their movements. He took a second to be startled to realize that some of the campers literally ran hotter than the others before filing that away to tell Annabeth later. 

Monsters ran at a different temperature that humans did. They didn’t actually have blood and they tended to be fairly close to the ambient temperature of the area they were in. however, they emitted a subtle aura that could be sensed if one was looking for them. Percy tried to keep an eye out for them like that while Silena guided them along the tracks they found in the soft dirt. He had no idea how she could track like that, to him all of the dirt looked the same, but he let her lead. He caught her by the back of the shirt as something passed, but it turned out to just be the Stoll brothers creeping by. 

Once they passed Silena started leading them again. They headed deeper into the west side of the forest, where things were wilder and the bigger monsters tended to hang out. They were getting closer and closer to the border, and Silena was definitely getting more tense. A branch snapped in the woods. Dry leaves rustled. Something large was moving in the trees, just beyond the ridge.

“That’s not the Stolls.” Silena whispered. 

Percy drew Riptide, thumb on the cap ready to summon the blade. Silena slipped her hands into her pockets. When they came out each finger was topped with three inch celestial bronze talons that connected to her fingers with delicate rings. Percy blinked at the strange choice of weapon before deciding that he didn’t want to get disemboweled for questioning it. They crept to Zeus’s Fist, a huge pile of boulders in the middle of the west woods. It was a natural landmark where campers often rendezvoused on hunting expeditions, but now there was nobody around. Yet the scuttling sound seemed to be coming from everywhere. 

Percy realized his mistake a little too late. 

He had been searching at his eye level. The monster that shoved through the brush barely came a foot off the ground. Coming out of the woods was a glistening amber insect, ten feet long, with jagged pincers, an armored tail, and a stinger as long as his sword. A scorpion. Tied to its back was a red silk package.

“Is now a bad time to say I really hate bugs?” he whispered. 

Silena snorted. Percy slowly pulled Telos off its chain and passed the Trident to her. Talons were not going to be much good against that kind of carapace, and getting in close could be deadly. 

“I think Quintus is actually insane,” she whispered back. 

Percy nodded and started backing them up to the rocks. Silena parried away a stinger with the side of Telos. He stabbed with Riptide, but the scorpion backed out of range. They clambered sideways along the boulders, but the scorpions followed close behind. He slashed at another one, but going on the offensive was too dangerous. If Percy went for the body, the tail stabbed downward. If he went for the tail, the thing’s pincers came from either side and tried to grab him. All they could do was defend, and they wouldn’t be able to keep that up for very long.

“Do you think they’d fall for charmspeak?” 

Silena shook her head, “most Underworld monsters don’t.” 

He sighed through his nose and parried another strike. He took another step sideways and suddenly there was nothing behind him. A crack in the rocks, deeper than any other, that most people would never notice or risk stepping into. 

“In here,” he said. 

Silena glanced behind them, “what? No! It’s too narrow!” 

“Now!” he barked. 

Her mouth thinned but she started squeezing between the rocks. Then she yelped and grabbed his armor straps, and suddenly he was tumbling into a pit that hadn’t been there a moment before. Percy could see the scorpions above them, the purple evening sky and the trees, and then the hole shut like the lens of a camera, and they were in complete darkness. He could hear Silenas panicked breathing and patted around until he could grab her arm. 

“Where are we?!” 

He lifted Riptide, the light emitting from the blessed blade enough to see about a foot around them. It looked as if they were sitting in a dusty old train station made with red bricks. The Labyrinth. He glanced over to Silena, who had raised to a crouch with her hands held up like she was expecting an attack. She had dropped Telos but he knew the Trident would return to its place on his necklace soon. 

“Don’t move,” he breathed. 

Percy remembered just how easy it was to get lost in the Labyrinth. Carefully he reached out and caught Silena’s hand, pulling her into him. He kept his eyes trained on the crack in the ceiling that they had fallen into. He stood up, every sense extended as far as it could go. Something rumbled through the stone, making his breath catch. Silena picked up on it and stepped closer to his back. 

“Look at the wall, there should be a small symbol, Greek Delta, shaped like a triangle.” 

Silena turned, keeping one hand fisted in the back of his shirt. Percy brought Riptide up, diagonal across his body, and loosened his knees. Something was coming, and fast. It was only the fact that nothing could get through the Labyrinth easily that would save them. Silena gave a quiet sound of joy and he heard stone grinding against stone. The ceiling opened up above them, metal slats popping out to form a ladder. Percy hurried Silena up them, not pulling his eyes away from the darkness. 

He pulled himself up after her, right as he heard the sound of something massive and scaled come around the corner. Silena swore and yanked him up by the shoulder straps, sending both of them sprawling as the entrance closed. It was much darker than it had been before, leaving behind the dusk light and entering full night. Campers were yelling their names in the trees. Silena gave a piercing New York whistle to catch their attention. He frowned, that only gave him a minute. So Percy lunged, grabbing the taller girl by the lip of her chestplate and dragged her down to his level. 

“You tell no one about this,” Percy hissed. 

Silena tried to pull back, fear entering her eyes, but he didn’t let go. Instead he bared his exaggerated teeth and allowed some of that feral darkness loose. Silena swallowed heavily and dipped her chin in a shallow nod. But he wasn’t done. 

“No Silena, I mean it. You’re head of your Cabin, you know what's happening. If anyone finds out about this Luke will hear it. How long do you think our Camp can hold out against the armies he has? How long will it be until some monster breaks through the lines and decides that little boy of yours would be a good dinner?” 

Silena whimpered, silver lining her eyes. Percy sneered and let her go without warning, making her stumble back against the rocks. That damn silver scythe charm swung free from behind her armor. He had to hold in the urge to scoff at it. Especially as she covered it with the flat of her palm. 

Fucking traitor. 

Campers grew closer, Tyson right up front. He sniffled loudly before dragging Percy into a bone crushing hug. Clarisse jogged up, golden laurels in her hair. Her eyes darted between Percy and Silena, face immediately hardening as her hand fell to the bracelet form of her spear. He shook his head lightly and she frowned but nodded. 

“Where have you been?” Chiron asked, Quintus jogging at his side. 

“Chiron…maybe we should talk about this at the Big House.” 

Clarisse gasped. “You found it, didn’t you?”

Percy nodded. A quick slap to the wrist had Lamar forming in her hands, eyes locked to the stones behind them. A flash of golden curls caught his eye as Annabeth slunk from between the trees. She raised a single brow, looking between him and Silena. 

Chiron raised his hand for silence. “Tonight is not the right time, and this is not the right place.” He stared at boulders as if he’d just noticed how dangerous they were. “All of you, back to your cabins. Get some sleep. A game well played, but curfew is past!” 

There was a lot of mumbling and complaints, but the campers drifted off, talking among themselves and giving him suspicious looks. Percy just glared at them. He was getting steadily more annoyed with the way he was treated as something to be careful around. He was not a mad dog on a chain. (Annabeth had him very well trained) only the Heads remained, waiting for what Chiron would tell them. 

“That’s what Luke is searching for,” Clarisse breathed. 

Chiron nodded, “yes. We will speak of this in the morning, please return to your Cabins for the night.” 

Clrairsse started to protest but Chiron held up a hand, “Please, tonight is not the time.” 

There was more angry muttering and more than one head had their weapons in their hands, but they reluctantly did as they were told. Percy barely had the time to start pulling off his armor before Annabeth slipped into his cabin. Thankfully Tyson was taking a shower. 

“I heard you with Silena.” 

He nodded, undoing the buckles of his chest plate, “what do you think we should do about her? Tell Chiron? Or deal with her ourselves.” 

Annabeth started helping him strip down while she thought. He could watch the emotions that played across her face as she chewed her lip. Percy wasn’t really okay with suggesting killing one of their own, even a traitor. But he was fully willing to put the fear of death into her. 

“We need proof,” Annabeth eventually sighed, “I’ll call Piper tonight, ask if she will come in and see what she can do.” 

Percy nodded. That could work. If nothing else Piper could charmspeak the other girl and force her to confess. Not even another daughter of Aphrodite could resist how powerful her charmspeak was now. Annabeth perched on the bed while he changed into his night clothes. He flopped back and laid with his head in her stomach, nearly purring once she started scratching at his scalp. They had finally managed to convince Tyson to not tattle if he caught any of the Seven asleep in Percy’s cabin, but there was never any guarantee that he would remember once he got excited. It was getting easier for Percy to sleep on his own, but he still disliked it. 

“Get some rest Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth ordered, pressing a kiss to his brow before she slipped out from under him. 

It was a good idea, the Heads of Cabin would probably be on edge and checking with their siblings a few times through the night. No one wanted the alarm to go up when Annabeth wasn’t in the right bed. Percy eventually managed to drift off on his own, once more dreaming of Daedalus. 

The next morning he woke early to face the meeting with a clear mind. All of the Heads were there, some more nervous than others. Percy situated himself behind Annabeth and watched while she spearheaded the discussion with Clarisse at her side. Even Argus showed up, making the others pale. Everyone knew that when he made an appearance it was serious business. And the whole time the girls spoke he watched them so closely his whole body went bloodshot. 

“Luke must have known about the Labyrinth entrance,” Annabeth said. “He knew everything about camp.”

Juniper the tree nymph delegate nodded in agreement, “The cave entrance has been there a long time. Luke used to use it. I thought he was just hiding from people to rest for a little while, I never thought to look closer at some yucky old cave.” 

“Interesting,” Quintus polished his sword as he spoke. “And you believe this young man, Luke, would dare use the Labyrinth as an invasion route?” 

“Definitely,” Clarisse said. “If he could get an army of monsters inside Camp Half-Blood, just pop up in the middle of the woods without having to worry about our magical boundaries, we wouldn’t stand a chance. He could wipe us out easily. He must’ve been planning this for months.”

Pressure built in Percy's stomach, begging for release. The only reason he hadn’t ripped Luke into screaming little pieces was because they didn’t know what would happen if Kronos lost his prized Host. He twirled Riptide over and over in his fingers to try and dispel some of his excess energy. Annabeth's shoulders tightened. 

“If Luke can find Daedalus and convince him to help then we’re all screwed. There’s no way we can stand against the armies he has.” 

“Hold up Chase-” Beckendorf cut in, “didn’t Daedalus live like three thousand years ago?” 

Chrions tail thrashed with irritation “That’s the problem, my dear. No one knows. There are rumors…well, there are many disturbing rumors about Daedalus, but one is that he disappeared back into the Labyrinth toward the end of his life. He might still be there.”  

Silence reigned for a long moment. Percy flipped Riptide through the air. He hated being able to see the weight of war settle onto his fellows shoulders. Even the oldest of them were only a few years older than him. 

“We need to go in,” Annabeth announced. “We have to find the workshop before Luke does. If Daedalus is alive, we convince him to help us, not Luke. If Ariadne’s string still exists, we make sure it never falls into Luke’s hands.”

“We could fight,” Lee Fletcher said. “We know where the entrance is now. We can set up a defensive line and wait for them. If an army tries to come through, they’ll find us waiting with our bows.”

“We will certainly set up defenses,” Chiron agreed. “But I fear Annabeth is right. The magical borders have kept this camp safe for hundreds of years. If Luke manages to get a large army of monsters into the center of camp, bypassing our boundaries…we may not have the strength to defeat them.”

Nobody looked real happy about that news. Chiron usually tried to be upbeat and optimistic. If he was predicting we couldn’t hold off an attack, that wasn’t good. Clarisse started pacing. The Stoll brothers were clinging to each other to try and borrow strength from the other. Katie from the Demeter cabin looked like she was about to be sick. But it was Silena who Percy was watching. On the way she had closed her eyes to keep tears from overflowing. He wondered if she would reveal herself by choice, now that they were pushing the issue more and more. 

“First things first. We need a quest. Someone must enter the Labyrinth, find the workshop of Daedalus, and prevent Luke from using the maze to invade this camp.” Chiron said.

 “We all know who should lead this,” Clarisse said. “Annabeth.”

The campers nodded in agreement. Percy cracked his knuckles and rolled out his shoulders. A few eyes flicked to him before they turned back to Annabeth. It would be great if they could pull in Nico or Hazel to help guide them, but they were busy doing their own things. Slowly Chiron placed his hand on Annabeth's shoulder and looked out over them. 

“Are we in agreement?” 

They gave their Ayes. Chrion nodded, “very well. My dear, it is time you visit the Oracle. Assuming you return to us in one piece, we shall discuss what to do next.” 

Percy leaned against the railing of the Big House, waiting for Annabeth to come down. Outwardly the only sign of his unease was the surf he could hear crashing against the shores even from a quarter mile away. Other than that he stayed still and calm, watching Chiron speak to Argus and Quintus. They seemed to be arguing about something but he didn’t know what. Percy could just barely hear the sounds of faint crying. He gripped the railing tighter. 

If it were anyone other than Clarisse he would have gone to comfort them. But no matter how much better his relationship with the girl was he knew that she wouldn’t appreciate it. So he had to force himself to wait, to listen to the faint sounds of crying and the even quieter mummer of Clarisse’s voice. By the time she stomped back outside- scrubbing her face like her eyes weren’t bloodshot and telling- Percy had graduated to pacing. Clarisse took one look at him and snarled, red glinting behind her dark eyes. Percy held his hands up and tried to look non threatening. 

“Sparring ring?” 

“Sparring ring.” 

Thus began the passing hour and a half where Percy and Clarisse probably broke a few laws while beating the shit out of each other. To the point that Percy was seeing double and Clarisse couldn’t close her fist because he had broken at least three of her fingers. The only reason they stopped was because the little Hephaestus girl Robin that had attached herself to Clarrise took one look at the blood dripping off of them and broke out into sobs. The noise caught Chirons attention who hit them with the patented ‘I’m not angry I’m just disappointed and also do we have a therapist around here somewhere’ sigh before he grabbed them both by the scruff and hauled them off to the medics tent. Which was where Annabeth found them, shaky and pale after her meeting with the Oracle. 

She looked to him first, and apparently whatever bruises decorated his face was enough to confuse her out of her freakout. Annabeth looked between him and Clarisse a few times before exhaling heavily and shaking her head. 

“Annabeth, you made it!” Chiron said gratefully, “well dear, let's hear it. Exact wording please, it could be very helpful.” 

“you shall delve in the darkness of the endless maze…

The dead, the traitor, and the lost one raise

The weave of your fate within your hand.”  

“That’s… reassuring?” Lee Fletcher tried. 

Annabeth just shook her head. That wasn’t the original prophecy Percy knew. He was starting to forget some of the smaller things that happened so long ago but not enough for him to be so surprised. And the reference to the weave… Did the Oracle know what they did? That could possibly end very poorly for them. 

“Are there more lines? The prophecy does not sound complete.” Chiron asked gently. 

A muscle in Annabeth's jaw ticked, the stormclouds in her eyes seeming to flash with lightning. Percy thought that if she were him at that moment they would be tripping over a summoned earthquake. She fisted her hand around her camp necklace and continued. 

“Brought again a Heroes final breath, 

That rageful Fate worse than death.” 

“I retract my previous statement.” Lee said weakly. 

Percy shifted to block the healer from Annabeth's glare. Maybe he would end up in the Arena for the second time of the day. It was probably a good thing that Grover was off moping somewhere, the poor Satyr would pass out from the emotions clouding the air. 

She shifted in place. “Look, the point is, I have to go in. I’ll find the workshop and stop Luke. And…I need help.” 

Percy met her eyes and stood, “you don’t even have to ask.” 

The smile that cracked across her face carved a new home into the soft spots of his heart, “I always will.” 

“Grover too?” 

She nodded, “the Wild God awaits him.” 

Percy took her hand, hoping that he could offer even the slightest bit of strength. Annabeth clung to him, her nails digging into the back of his knuckles. 

“And Tyson.” Annabeth added. 

“Wait, Annabeth,” Chiron said. “This goes against the ancient laws. A hero is allowed only two companions.” 

“I need them all,” she insisted. “Chiron, it’s important.”

Percy glanced down at her but Annabeth was avoiding his eyes. There was something she wasn’t sharing yet. She would hopefully tell him once they were away from prying eyes. 

“Annabeth.” Chiron flicked his tail nervously. “Consider well. You would be breaking the ancient laws, and there are always consequences. Last winter, five went on a quest to save Artemis. Only three came back. Think on that. Three is a sacred number. There are three fates, three furies, three Olympian sons of Kronos. It is a good strong number that stands against many dangers. Four…this is risky.” 

Annabeth took a deep breath. “I know. But we have to. Please.”

Chiron sighed. “Very well. Let us adjourn. The members of the quest must prepare themselves. Tomorrow at dawn, we send you into the Labyrinth.” 

Quintus pulled Percy aside as they left the medics tents, “I don’t like the idea of you going down there,” he said. “Any of you. but if you must, I want you to remember something. The Labyrinth exists to fool you. It will distract you. That’s dangerous for half-bloods. We are easily distracted.”

Percy nodded in agreement, “this will probably be one of the hardest Quests we’ve been on so far, but we will succeed.” 

Hardest that people knew about anyway. And Percy was sure that they would make it through once more, just as they had before.

“I want you to have this,” he said before holding up a small silver tube, “it’s a whistle to summon Mrs. O’Leary. She might be able to get you out of a precarious situation. But be careful Percy, it can only be used once.” 

Percy took the whistle, hissing in shock once it touched his skin. Icy cold raced up his nerves like fire to kindling. He ignored Quintus explaining what it was, because he knew. Stygian Ice. Ice crafted from the waters of the River Styx, who happened to be his benefactor. The Goddess took notice, pressing against the edges of his mind with curiosity. The scar across his thumb from when Percy had made a blood oath and unintentionally bound himself to Her service split open. The smear of red sunk into the ice immediately, leaving behind only a shimmer of gold. 

“Thanks,” he rasped, struggling to force down the pressure in his gut. 

Quintus just frowned and looked at him like he was already designing his Shroud to be burnt. Percy nodded jerkily and bolted, hand fisted around the whistle so tight he was half worried about shattering it. He slid into his cabin and crashed to a seat against the fountain. Immediately the water turned pitch black and strangely thick, with little spiked ice crystals spreading across the rocking surface. 

“You have something of mine Godling,” Styx’s voice echoed in his head. 

Percy nodded and shoved his hand in the water. He was probably the only person who could do so without risking having his life force eaten away by the properties of the River. The cold of the ice whistle finally stopped chewing away at his hand. Percy couldn't see past the surface of the water, but it felt like the skin had been ripped open. Styx hummed. 

“Someone has been naughty, taking what isn’t theirs.” 

“Can’t you tell who crosses your waters?” Percy asked. 

“It is not always so simple. In the Underworld I am aware of every drop of My waters, but the closer to the surface the less I can feel.” 

Percy nodded. In the stack of things the Mortal realm was sandwiched between the Underworld and Olympus. Between the Mortal realm and the Underworld was a huge expanse of space, including the Labyrinth. It was possible that the Styx crossed said Labyrinth at some point. 

“Do you want it back?” 

“No, keep it, you might have a need for something so special.” 

“How can I use it? It hurts me.” 

“Give it to one of your little pets then, you will hear it from anywhere by the grace of it and you being Mine.” 

Percy thanked Styx and waited for Her presence to fade away. He pulled his hand out of the water and placed the whistle on the lip of the fountain. The palm of his hand was whelped up with an angry red burn that the water couldn’t seem to heal. Maybe it was along the same lines as the wound Percy had gotten over winter break when he had been shot in the back. The bruises there had to heal the Mortal way, taking weeks and weeks before they finally faded fully. For reference his broken shoulder had been fully healed in three days. Percy frowned at the whistle for a moment before he wandered off to find Annabeth. 

The Athena Cabin was a workshop for brainiac kids. The bunks were all pushed against one wall as if sleeping didn’t matter very much. Most of the room was filled with workbenches and tables and sets of tools and weapons. The back of the room was a huge library crammed with old scrolls and leather-bound books and paperbacks. There was an architect’s drafting table with a bunch of rulers and protractors, and some 3-D models of buildings. Huge old war maps were plastered to the ceiling. Sets of armor hung under the windows, their bronze plates glinting in the sun. Annabeth stood in the back of the room, rifling through old scrolls.

She waved him over without looking away from the scrolls. Percy draped himself across her back and propped his chin up on the top of her head. One of her curls tickled at his nose nearly making him sneeze. Malcom wandered in and choked on air at seeing Percy in their cabin. He just rolled his head over and glared at him until the Athena boy stuttered out that Chiron wanted to see Ananbeth and then scurried away. Annabeth snorted and swatted at his hip before she squirmed free. Percy pouted at her, making her roll her eyes and drag him down for a kiss. 

He gave her a goofy grin and followed her out of the cabin. If Athena had any issues with him being there he didn’t get struck down or anything. Then again Percy was pretty sure they had made it clear that there would be no separating them. There was a part of him that almost wanted Hera to try again… just to see what would happen. Percy spent the rest of the evening doing all of the pre-quest gathering he needed to. He made sure to give Annabeth her new weapon, wincing a little bit at the unholy glee in her eyes when she saw it, and took their armor to be serviced and packed their bags. 

He hoped to have a decent night's sleep before beginning the quest, but of course that wasn’t in the cards for Percy. That night in his dreams, he was in the stateroom of the Princess Andromeda. The windows were open on a moonlit sea. Cold wind rustled the velvet drapes. Luke knelt on a Persian rug in front of the golden sarcophagus of Kronos. In the moonlight, Luke’s blond hair looked pure white. He wore an ancient Greek chiton and a white himation, a kind of cape that flowed down his shoulders. The white clothes made him look timeless and a little surreal. The last time Percy had seen him, he’d been broken and unconscious after a nasty fall from Mount Tam. Now he looked perfectly fine. 

Percy was going to watch him bleed out. 

“Our spies report success, my lord,” he said. “Camp Half-Blood is sending a quest, as you predicted. Our side of the bargain is almost complete.”

Percy drew Telos even though it was a dream and there was nothing he could do. Stabbing Luke in the back with the transparent Trident still made him feel better. In his soul. He didn’t bother paying attention to Kronos talking. The Titan would either notice he was there and send him away or Percy would try to stab through that gaudy golden sarcophagus. Either way worked better than standing around. He was eventually booted from the dream once he tried to scrabble through a window to throw himself into the sea. Percy woke up in his own bunk with the taste of saltwater on the back of his tongue. 

He rose and threw a crumpled up bit of paper at Tyson to wake him up as well before stumbling over to the shower. His hand was still hurt, making Percy fumble when he slapped the door open. He frowned at the small wound before showering quickly and wrapping his hand so it wouldn’t tear open. The Questers met with the rise of the sun, standing in front of Zeus’ fist. Juniper and Grover stood apart from the group. Juniper had been crying again, but she was trying to keep it together for Grover’s sake. She kept fussing with his clothes, straightening his rasta cap and brushing goat fur off his shirt.

Chiron, Quintus, and Mrs. O’Leary stood with the other campers who’d come to wish them well, but there was too much activity for it to feel like a happy send-off. A couple of tents had been set up by the rocks for guard duty. Beckendorf and his siblings were working on a line of defensive spikes and trenches. The Demeter kids were blocking off the woods with thick brambles of thorned vines. A few Ares kids were already in armor, watching over everything. Chiron had decided they needed to guard the Labyrinth exit at all times, just in case. Annabeth was doing one last check on her supply pack as he joined her. 

He caught her eye and offered a weary smile. Annabeth gave one back, but there was something in her eyes. Something that almost seemed like an apology. Percy was distracted by Chiron trotting up before he could ask her what was wrong. The old centaur looked them over, twisting the strap of his crossbow over and over. 

“Be brave children,” he said, “be bold, and stay together.” 

They nodded to him. Chiron pointed his crossbow to the sky, the typical Camp farewell. But this time there were no cheers as they went and the other campers did not join in. Instead they all watched the four of them with heavy eyes, like they weren’t sure if they would ever be seen again. Until Beckendorf scoffed through the silence and pounded his fisted hand against his chest. Again and again, until all of the campers joined in, the heartbeat of the demigods ringing out through the clearing. Tears burned in Percy's eyes as he bowed to his family. Before he turned and entered that darkness. 

“Well, goodbye sunlight.” Grover said from behind him. 

Chapter Text

They made it a hundred feet before they were lost. Rather than the red brick tunnel the Labyrinth had been just the day before it was a dank sewer. Every ten ish feet there was a manhole, but each one showed different light and accents. And Percy? Yeah he was still very much claustrophobic. They’d also run into the new fun issue of Annabeth. 

When they’d come back in time Annabeth had felt left out amongst the heavily gifted members of the Seven. So she gave herself the ability to weave the threads of magic. She couldn’t create her own, but she could tamper with what was left behind by someone else. By obvious logic that meant she could see magic. And what was the Labyrinth but millennia of old magic layered over and over and over itself. She had made it three steps before turning to the side and puking from the sheer overwhelm. Now she was following after Percy with her hand fisted around his armor strap and her eyes pinched to tiny little slits. 

They made it to a big circular room with eight different doorways. Annabeth sucked air through her teeth and peered at each of them. Percy was concerned about the tears streaming down her face. If nothing else it was enough to keep Grover distracted from the panic Percy remembered the Satyr feeling about being underground. He started playing something soft and soothing on his reedpipes that made Annabeth relax. Eventually she chose a tunnel for them to go through that lead into an increasingly narrow hall. Percy managed to get through it by closing his eyes and making Grover go first. 

They got let out into a large mosaiced room. The pictures were grimy and faded, but he could still make out the colors—red, blue, green, gold. The frieze showed the Olympian gods at a feast. There was Poseidon, with His trident, holding out grapes for Dionysus to turn into wine. Zeus was partying with satyrs, and Hermes was flying through the air on His winged sandals. In the middle of the room was a three-tiered fountain. It looked like it hadn’t held water in a long time. 

“Roman,” Annabeth said. “Those mosaics are about two thousand years old.” 

That explained why the Gods looked a little different than they should have. Percy felt a pang of longing deep in his chest for the other half of the Seven. Percy pressed his hand to the side of the fountain and closed his eyes. There was a deep pulling in his stomach before water sprayed free. He hoped the others would assume that the black color to it was from dirt and grime, not Styx. He hadn’t even told Annabeth about that yet. After a moment the water ran clear. Percy might have been imagining it, but he thought that the room seemed a little lighter. A groaning noise echoed around them, backed by stone grinding against stone. 

“We need to keep moving, staying in one place is dangerous,” Annabeth said. 

They nodded and started moving again, leaving behind the fountain. Pretty quickly the Labyrinth changed around them again, becoming newer and widening out to what seemed to be underground rail lines. Percy carefully avoided the tracks, all too aware of the horror stories of people frying themselves. Every few feet the tunnels twisted and turned and branched off. The floor beneath them changed from cement to mud to bricks and back again. There was no sense to any of it. 

They stumbled into a wine cellar—a bunch of dusty bottles in wooden racks—like they were walking through somebody’s basement, only there was no exit above them, just more tunnels leading on. Later the ceiling turned to wooden planks, and he could hear voices above them and the creaking of footsteps, as if they were walking under some kind of bar. It was reassuring to hear people, but then again, they couldn’t get to them. they were stuck down here with no way out. Then Percy found the first skeleton. He was dressed in white clothes, like some kind of uniform. A wooden crate of glass bottles sat next to him. 

“Milkman,” Annabeth said faintly. 

Percy remembered how much finding the bodies had fucked him up. Not as much as walking through the Underworld the first time, but it was still very disturbing. 

“We have to get deeper into the maze,” Annabeth said. “There has to be a way to the center.” 

She led them to the right, then the left, through a corridor of stainless steel like some kind of air shaft, until they arrived back in the Roman tile room with the fountain. This time though… they weren’t alone. 

What Percy noticed first were His faces. Both of them. They jutted out from either side of His head, staring over His shoulders, so His head was much wider than it should’ve been, kind of like a hammerhead shark’s looking straight at him, all he saw were two overlapping ears and mirror-image sideburns. He was dressed like a New York City doorman: a long black overcoat, shiny shoes, and a black top-hat that somehow managed to stay on His double-wide head. 

“Well Annabeth? Hurry up!” said the left face. 

“Oh don’t mind him, he’s awfully rude,” said the right face. 

Tyson shifted uneasily, “the man has two faces and smells funny.” 

Both faces frowned at that, “we have ears you know!” 

“Now come along!” said Left. 

“No no, with me!” said Right. 

The two-faced man regarded Annabeth as best He could out of the corners of His eyes. It was impossible to look at Him straight on without focusing on one side or the other. And suddenly Percy remembered that was what He was asking—He wanted Annabeth to choose. Behind Him were two exits, blocked by wooden doors with huge iron locks. They hadn’t been there on their first time through the room. The two-faced doorman held a silver key, which He kept passing from His left hand to His right hand. Percy wondered if this was a different room completely, but he could feel the lingering remnants of his power in the fountain.

“One probably leads the way you wish to go,” the right face said encouragingly. “The other leads to certain death.”

“I’m Janus,” both faces said in harmony. “God of Doorways. Beginnings. Endings. Choices.” 

The right face smiled. “You’re in charge now, my dear. All the decisions are on your shoulders. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

The left face scoffed, “Hubris at its finest. We know you Annabeth. We know what you wrestle with every day. We know your indecision. You will have to make your choice sooner or later. And the choice may kill you.”

Annabeth shook her head, “No! I’m going to figure it out. You shut up!” 

Percy didn’t know what they were talking about, but it sounded like it was about more than a choice between doors. Annabeth's hands fisted at her side like she was getting ready to throw a punch. He jolted with shock when he noticed something glowing from her back pocket. It got steadily brighter until he could see that the feather stamped down the middle of her new weapon was glowing silver. That was probably not a good sign. 

“Shut up!” his left face said. “This is serious. One bad choice can ruin your whole life. It can kill you and all of your friends. But no pressure, Annabeth. Choose!”

Uncertainty squirmed in his chest. Something was going on that Percy didn’t know about. It wasn’t like Annabeth to leave him out of the loop either. They had promised each other that they would stick together in this do-over. 

“I- I choose” 

Before Annabeth could finish whatever she was going to say Percy grabbed her by the shoulder and jerked her backwards. There was a brilliant flash of light every color imaginable. When the light died, a woman was standing at the fountain. She was tall and graceful with long hair the color of chocolate, braided in plaits with gold ribbons. She wore a simple white dress, but when She moved, the fabric shimmered with colors like oil on water. Percy immediately ducked into a bow, joined by Annabeth just a moment later. 

“Janus,” Hera sighed, “are we causing trouble again?” 

“N-no, milady!” Janus’s right face stammered. 

“Yes!” the left face said. 

“Shut up!” the right face said. 

“Excuse me?” Hera asked. 

“Not you, milady! I was talking to myself.” 

“I see,” She said. “You know very well your visit is premature. The girl’s time has not yet come. So I give you a choice: leave these heroes to me, or I shall turn you into a door and break you down.”

The two faces stuttered and argued for a few more moments. Until they glanced over to Hera’s rapidly growing frown and yanked themselves into a lopsided bow. They vanished away, leaving just the sound of a door slamming closed. Hera turned back to them, smile growing once more. 

“Oh darling Heroes, please you must be hungry. Take a seat.” 

It wasn’t a suggestion. Hera waved her hand and the room was suddenly cleaned to a gleaming polish. A marble table appeared, laden with platters of sandwiches and pitchers of lemonade. Percy sat. Annabeth slowly lowered herself to sit beside him while Grover and Tyson took the other side, leaving the head open for the God Queen. 

“Grover, dear,” she said, “use your napkin. Don’t eat it.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Grover said. 

“Tyson, you’re wasting away. Would you like another peanut butter sandwich?” 

Tyson stifled a belch. “Yes, nice lady.”

It was all so normal. Which, in this timeline Hera had yet to cause any issues. In fact she seemed to like him based on their one other interaction after he retrieved the lightning bolt. Annabeth was vibrating with tension at his side. Hera smiled. She flicked one finger and Annabeth’s hair combed itself. All the dirt and grime disappeared from her face. Percy sat through the same treatment, offering a tense word of thanks once done. 

She turned to Annabeth with a sunny smile. “Please rest easy, I certainly bear you no ill will, my girl. I appreciate the difficulty of your quest. Especially when you have troublemakers like Janus to deal with.”

“My thanks good Lady, but I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Annabeth said, “It was my understanding that you do not care for the Heroes.” 

“I tend to not of course,” Hera said breezily, “so many Heroes have such egos to them! But darling Percy has been so polite, and I’ve never made issue with Athena’s children.” 

“Is there a reason you meet with us?” Annabeth asked. 

Hera stared at the fading mosaics of the Olympians. “You see, in times of trouble, even gods can lose faith. They start putting their trust in the wrong things. They stop looking at the big picture and start being selfish. But I’m the goddess of marriage, you see. I’m used to perseverance. You have to rise above the squabbling and chaos, and keep believing. You have to always keep your goals in mind.”

“That’s what Janus was doing!” Percy said, “trying to mess us up!” 

Hera nodded, “it really is a concern with some of the minor Gods. They feel slighted now that Mortals have fallen away from Us.” 

They nodded along. That wasn’t surprising, especially for Percy and Annabeth. But everyone knew that the beliefs of the world had long since changed. It was the cycle of things. Hera sighed and leaned Her head on Her hand. It was such a normal motion that Percy nearly snorted. 

“My goals are to keep my family, the Olympians, together, of course. At the moment, the best way I can do that is by helping you. Zeus does not allow me to interfere much, I am afraid. But once every century or so, for a quest I care deeply about, he allows me to grant a wish.” 

“A wish?”

“Before you ask, let me give you some advice, which I can do for free. I know you seek Daedalus. His Labyrinth is as much a mystery to me as it is to you. But if you want to know his fate, I would visit my son Hephaestus at his forge. Daedalus was a great inventor, a mortal after Hephaestus’s heart. There has never been a mortal Hephaestus admired more. If anyone would have kept up with Daedalus and could tell you his fate, it is Hephaestus.”

“Our thanks M’Lady,” Percy said. 

Hera turned her dark eyes to him for a moment. He shifted in his seat, the pad of his thumb stinging slightly. Percy worried for a second that Styx would protest to Hera being near him. She had gotten upset when the Ophiotaurus Bessie had claimed him, Percy didn’t really want to think about what would happen if another God tried to. 

The room rumbled like distant thunder. Hera stood. “That would be my cue, please make your desire known now. Zeus grows impatient.”

“Clarity.” Annabeth said suddenly. 

Hera frowned and leaned down to press Her fingertips to Annabeth's forehead. She sucked in a short breath through her nose, but didn’t jerk away. Percy could see the glow of the knife in Annabeth's back pocket grow stronger once more. 

“Think on what I have said, Annabeth. Seek out Hephaestus. You will have to pass through the ranch, I imagine. But keep going. And use all the means at your disposal, however common they may seem.” 

She pointed toward the two doors and they melted away, revealing twin corridors, open and dark. “One last thing, Annabeth. I have postponed your day of choice, I have not prevented it. Soon, as Janus said, you will have to make a decision. Farewell!” 

Hera vanished into a flare of multicolored light, a single peacock feather drifting from where She had been. The table evaporated like it had never been there, sending them all to the floor. So did the food, just as Tyson chomped down on a sandwich that turned to mist in his mouth. Tyson made a sad noise, looking around like the sandwich was hiding from him. 

“What did that even mean?” Grover burst out like he had been smothering himself the whole time the Goddess was there. 

Annabeth slowly rose to her feet, eyes locked on the feather. There was something… Percy hadn’t seen that kind of devastation on her face in years. Since they watched Camp Half Blood fall while they rode away on the Argo II. The spots Hera had touched shimmered for another second before sinking into Annabeths skin like nothing happened. 

“We need to keep moving.” 

“Annabeth what-” 

She shook her head, not making eye contact with him, “not yet. I know now but… not yet.” 

“We need to go,” Tyson said, shooting to his feet, “somethings coming.” 

Grover nodded rapidly, grabbing Annabeth's wrist and dragging her. Percy jogged behind them, hand on Riptide. The good news: the left tunnel was straight with no side exits, twists, or turns. The bad news; it was a dead end. After sprinting a hundred yards, they ran into an enormous boulder that completely blocked the path. Behind them, the sounds of dragging footsteps and heavy breathing echoed down the corridor. Something—definitely not human—was on their tail. Percy could fight but that would bring the Labyrinths attention to them. Still he stood ready while Tyson shoved the boulder out of the way. 

The slipped through the crack he had opened and scrambled to slide it shut before whatever it was came around the corner. He turned. They were in a twenty-foot square cement room and the opposite wall was covered with metal bars. they’d tunneled straight into a cell of some kind. 

“Shh,” Grover hissed, “listen.” 

Somewhere above them, deep sobbing echoed through the building. There was another sound, too—a raspy voice muttering something that he couldn’t make out. The words were strange, like rocks in a tumbler.

“Does anyone know the language?” he asked.

Tyson’s eye widened. “Can’t be.” 

“What?” he asked.  

But his brother wasn’t paying attention. Tyson wrenched the bars of the cell open wide enough that even he could move through and bolted. They hissed after him before being forced to follow or risk losing him. The prison was dark, only a few dim fluorescent lights flickering above. 

“Stop!” Grover yelped. 

It took all three of them using their full strength to pull Tyson to a stop. The normally gentle Cyclops let out the type of snarl that usually came before something tried to disembowel him. Annabeth went pale at his side but still held on. Grover pointed down to the reason he had ordered them to stop. 

It was sort of like a centaur, with a woman’s body from the waist up. But instead of a horse’s lower body, it had the body of a dragon—at least twenty feet long, black and scaly with enormous claws and a barbed tail. Her legs looked like they were tangled in vines, but then he realized they were sprouting snakes, hundreds of vipers darting around, constantly looking for something to bite. The woman’s hair was also made of snakes, like Medusa’s. Weirdest of all, around her waist, where the woman part met the dragon part, her skin bubbled and morphed, occasionally producing the heads of animals—a vicious wolf, a bear, a lion, as if she were wearing a belt of ever-changing creatures. Percy got the feeling he was looking at something half formed, a monster so old it was from the beginning of time, before shapes had been fully defined. 

Tyson whined low in his throat. 

they crouched in the shadows, but the monster wasn’t paying any attention. It seemed to be talking to someone inside a cell on the second floor. That’s where the sobbing was coming from. The dragon woman said something in her weird rumbling language. 

“The tongue of the old times.” Tyson shivered. “What Mother Earth spoke to Titans and…her other children. Before the gods.”

Percy’s stomach lurched at the mention of Gaia, but now wasn’t the time. Tyson leaned forward and spoke with an awful rasping woman's voice. Like all Cyclopes, Tyson had superhuman hearing and an uncanny ability to mimic voices. It was almost like he entered a trance when he spoke in other voices

“You will work for the Master or you will suffer.” 

“I will not serve,” Tyson said in a deep, wounded voice. 

He switched to the monster’s voice: “Then I shall enjoy your pain, Briares.” 

Tyson faltered when he said that name. Percy had never heard him break character when he was mimicking somebody, but he let out a strangled gulp. Then he continued in the monster’s voice. 

“If you thought your first imprisonment was unbearable, you have yet to feel true torment. Think on this until I return.”

The dragon lady tromped toward the stairwell, vipers hissing around her legs like grass skirts. She spread wings that he hadn’t noticed before—huge bat wings she kept folded against her dragon back. She leaped off the catwalk and soared across the courtyard. They crouched lower in the shadows. A hot sulfurous wind blasted his face as the monster flew over. Then she disappeared around the corner. 

“H-h-horrible,” Grover said. “I’ve never smelled any monster that strong.” 

“Cyclopes’ worst nightmare,” Tyson murmured. “Kampê. Every Cyclops knows about her. Stories about her scare us when we’re babies. She was our jailer in the bad years.”

In those years before the Titans struck down the Primordials. Before the Gods even existed. It was strange to remember just how old Cyclops were. Percy patted his brother's shoulder. Briares was also married to his half sister, the Goddess of Storms Kymopoleia. 

“Kampê was the jailer,” Tyson said. “She worked for Kronos. She kept our brothers locked up in Tartarus, tortured them always, until Zeus came. He killed Kampê and freed Cyclops and Hundred-Handed Ones to help fight against the Titans in the big war.”

“I guess we should check it out,” Annabeth said, “before Kampê comes back.” 

As they approached the cell, the weeping got louder. Percy was sad to say Briares was just as weird looking as he remembered. He was human-size and his skin was very pale, the color of milk. He wore a loincloth like a big diaper. But the top half of his body was the weird part. He made Janus look downright normal. His chest sprouted more arms than anyone could count, in rows, all around his body. The arms looked like normal arms, but there were so many of them, all tangled together, that his chest looked kind of like a forkful of spaghetti somebody had twirled together. Several of his hands were covering his face as he sobbed. 

Tyson scrambled forward before he knelt to one knee, “Briares!” 

The sobbing stopped. 

“Great Hundred-Handed One!” Tyson said. “Help us!” 

Briares looked up. His face was long and sad, with a crooked nose and badly chewed mouth. He had deep brown eyes- as in completely brown with no whites or black pupils, like eyes formed out of clay. 

“Run while you can, little Cyclops,” Briares said miserably. “I cannot even help myself.”

“You are a Hundred-Handed One!” Tyson insisted. “You can do anything!” 

Briares groaned like an old man as he spread all of his arms out to gesture around him, “does it look like I can do anything little brother? The Titans will rise and throw us back into Tartarus.” 

“Put on your brave face!” Tyson said. 

Immediately Briares’s face morphed into something else. Same brown eyes, but otherwise totally different features. He had an upturned nose, arched eyebrows, and a weird smile, like he was trying to act brave. But then his face turned back to what it had been before. 

“No good,” he said. “My scared face keeps coming back.” 

The Hundred Handed Ones were weird. They were one soul, but fifty bodies in one. Fifty faces, fifty arms, a hundred hands. Percy was just glad that they didn’t have fifty legs all joined into one torso. Briares cowered in his cell. The poor thing had been broken in his thousand years of torture. Percy had almost lost it after ten days in Tartarus he couldn’t imagine lasting that long. 

“Guys,” Grover interrupted. “We have to get out of here. Kampê will be back. She’ll sense us sooner or later.”

“We need to break the bars,” Annabeth said. 

“Yes!” Tyson said, smiling proudly. “Briares can do it. He is very strong. Stronger than Cyclops, even! Watch!”

But he didn’t. And Percy had to watch the smile fall off of his brother's face. 

“Briares?” Tyson asked. “What…what is wrong? Show us your great strength!” 

“Tyson,” Annabeth said gently, “I think you’d better break the bars.” 

Tyson made another one of those sad puppy noises, scooting closer to his hero. Briares turned away, a dozen of his hands blocking his face. 

“I will break the bars,” Tyson said slowly. 

He grabbed the cell door and ripped it off its hinges like it was made of wet clay. Briares flinched away from the noise, a couple of hands flapping through the air like wounded birds. 

“Come on, Briares,” Annabeth said. “Let’s get you out of here.” 

She held out her hand. For a second, Briares’s face morphed to a hopeful expression. Several of his arms reached out, but twice as many slapped them away. He scooted further into the corner, sending them all wary looks. 

“I cannot,” he said. “She will punish me.”

“She won't,” Percy said darkly. 

Briares peeked through his fingers at him as Percy crouched down to his level and offered his hand, “I’m Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon. I promise you, we will get you out of here.” 

Slowly, like he was afraid Percy would jerk away, Briares reached out. He started to feel hopeful. All they had to do was get downstairs and find the Labyrinth entrance. But then Tyson whimpered. On the ground floor right below, Kampê was snarling at them. Briares immediately covered his face. Percy pulled a couple of the hands away and gave him a slightly feral grin and winked. 

“Time to go!” 

They bolted out of the cell as fast as they could move. Briares was happy to follow them. In fact, he ran out ahead of them, a couple dozen hands waving anxiously. Behind them he heard the sound of giant wings as Kampê took to the air. She hissed and growled in her ancient language, but he didn’t need a translation to know she was planning to kill them. They scrambled down the stairs, through a corridor, and past a guard’s station—out into another block of prison cells. 

“Left!” Annabeth barked, forcibly swinging Grover around the corner. 

They burst outside and found themselves in the prison yard, ringed by security towers and barbed wire. After being inside for so long, the daylight almost blinded him. Tourists were milling around, taking pictures. The wind whipped cold off the bay. In the south, San Francisco gleamed all white and beautiful, but in the north, over Mount Tamalpais, huge storm clouds swirled. The whole sky seemed like a black top spinning from the mountain where Atlas was imprisoned, and where the Titan palace of Mount Othrys was rising anew. 

Percy had a flash of remembered vindication at what he had done to Atlas, but it wasn’t the time for that. 

“Keep moving,” Briares wailed. “She is behind us!”

They hustled to the far side of the yard in the hopes that she wouldn’t be able to fit through the doors. Then the wall exploded. Goes to show what Percy remembered. Tourists screamed as Kampê appeared from the dust and rubble, her wings spread out as wide as the yard. She was holding two swords—long bronze scimitars that glowed with a weird greenish aura, boiling wisps of vapor that smelled sour and hot even across the yard. He cocked his head, considering if he could take control of the poison the way he had once before. But what had been done in Tartarus… it could not be replicated. 

“Briares, fight!” Tyson urged. “Grow to full size!”

Instead, Briares looked like he was trying to shrink even smaller. He appeared to be wearing his absolutely terrified face. Kampê thundered toward them on her dragon legs, hundreds of snakes slithering around her body. For a second Percy thought about fighting her, he had fought Gods and Giants and Titans after all. But there was no winning against that thing, only stalling. They ran through the jail yard and out the gates of the prison, the monster right behind them. Mortals screamed and ran. Emergency sirens began to blare. They hit the wharf just as a tour boat was unloading. 

“The boat?” Grover bleated. 

Percy shook his head, “even with me it won’t be fast enough.” 

They didn’t have time to summon Hippocampi either. Annabeth made a shuddery type of noise and turned back to face Kampê. 

“We need a distraction, Tyson can you-” 

His brother nodded and ripped a sign out of the ground to use as a bat, “I will be the distraction.” 

“Are you sure?” Percy asked. 

He hated bringing Tyson into danger. That had been the main reason the young Cyclops had been left behind on their rerun of going into the Sea of Monsters. But Tyson just nodded firmly, calf brown eye hard. 

“You go. Poison can only hurt a Cyclops, lot of pain, but it won’t kill.”

Something burned in Percy’s chest. But he just clenched his teeth and clapped his brother on the shoulder before they had to move on. He, Annabeth and Grover each took one of Briares’s hands and dragged him toward the concession stands while Tyson bellowed, lowered his pole, and charged Kampê like a jousting knight. She’d been glaring at Briares, but Tyson got her attention as soon as he nailed her in the chest with the pole, pushing her back into the wall. She shrieked and slashed with her swords, slicing the pole to shreds. Tyson jumped back as Kampê’s hair lashed and hissed, and the vipers around her legs darted their tongues in every direction. A lion popped out of the weird half-formed faces around her waist and roared. 

As they sprinted for the cell blocks, the last thing he saw was Tyson picking up a Dippin’ Dots stand and throwing it at Kampê. Ice cream and poison exploded everywhere, all the little snakes in Kampê’s hair dotted with tutti frutti. They dashed back into the jail yard. 

“Can’t make it,” Briares huffed. 

“Tyson is risking his life to help you!” He snarled, “You will make it.” 

As they reached the door of the cellblock, he heard an angry roar. Percy glanced back and saw Tyson running toward them at full speed, Kampê right behind him. She was plastered in ice cream and T-shirts. One of the bear heads on her waist was now wearing a pair of crooked plastic Alcatraz sunglasses. 

“Hurry!” Annabeth rasped. 

They finally found the cell where they’d come in, but the back wall was completely smooth—no sign of a boulder or anything. Percy slid to a stop, barely missing from slamming face first into the back wall. Annabeth immediately began searching for the Delta mark but it was Grover who found it. He slammed his hand down and activated it, but too late. Tyson was coming through the cell block, Kampê’s swords lashing out behind him, slicing indiscriminately through cell bars and stone walls. Percy bared his teeth and shoved. 

Pressure blasted away from him, fractal patterns of black ice the only thing holding up the newly crumbled stone. Kampê was thrown through the air with an unholy shriek. The ice quickly began to melt in the heat, sending small rocks and pebbles falling to the floor. Someone yanked Percy backwards into the Labyrinth before he could get crushed by that corner of the cell caving in. Kampê roared in fury behind them as they sprinted away back into the Labyrinth.

Chapter Text

They ran for a good long while, until even Percy and Annabeth were struggling for breath. Once they finally stopped they hunched over themselves, desperately gasping for air. 

“Hi, uh yeah, what the HADES WAS THAT?” Grover shrieked. 

Percy grimaced. All four of the others were looking at him like they’d never seen him before, even Annabeth. For a long few seconds there was only the quiet pattering of water dripping against the stone. They had ended up in a room ringed with waterfalls. The floor was one big pit, ringed by a slippery stone walkway. Around them, on all four walls, water tumbled from huge pipes. The water spilled down into the pit yet it never seemed to fill. Percy sighed through his nose and carelessly waved a hand, stopping all of those tons of moving water in its tracks. 

“What did you want me to do?” he asked. 

“Percy… I’ve never seen you do anything like that,” Annabeth said. 

He shrugged, “there hasn’t been a need.” 

“There- there hasn’t been a need?!” Annabeth yelped, “to what? Know that you could act as a walking pressure bomb?” 

Some of his temper slipped just a little. He and Annabeth- they argued. Half of their friendship had been based in rivalry after all. Fighting was a form of flirting starting when they were idiots little kids who didn’t know better. It was the way she was looking at him that rankled. Like Percy was something to be wary of. The water started to freeze over, cracking and groaning as it fought against his control. 

“Guys, now is not really the time,” Grover said uneasily. 

Percy glanced over to him, taking in the way his pupils had shifted and the way he was dancing on his hooves. He took a deep breath and allowed the water to continue flowing on its path. 

“We need to keep moving.” 

Percy didn’t care that it was Annabeth's quest, he just headed for the first opening he saw and started walking. There were the quiet sounds of an argument behind him before running feet began to catch up. Percy didn’t have to look behind him to hear Tysons quiet sniffling and know Briares had wandered off on his own. After what felt like another hour's worth of walking they settled into a room full of Marble slabs. Annabeth guessed that it was some kind of artist's studio based on the tools scattered around but everything was covered in dust and smelled stale. 

“Get some rest.” Annabeth said. 

Grover didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled a heap of straw out of his pack, ate some of it, made a pillow out of the rest, and was snoring in no time. Tyson took longer getting to sleep. He tinkered with some metal scraps from his building kit for a while, but whatever he was making, he wasn’t happy with it. He kept disassembling the pieces before he eventually fell asleep, project unfinished. Percy settled on top of one of the slabs, one knee brought into his chest to rest his chin on and the other thrown over the side. 

Annabeth sat against one of the slabs opposite him, staring through the gloom. She had pulled the knife Tyson made her out of her pocket and was looping the string over and over around her fingers. The feather on it had stopped glowing. She sighed through her nose and looked up to him. 

“I’m sorry.” 

He slowly cocked his head. Annabeth tapped the blade against her thigh a few times before she huffed and rose to her feet. Percy watched her cross the small space to lean her elbows against his slab. 

“You startled me.” 

“I could fuckin’ tell.” 

Annabeth snorted, a small smirk twisting at her mouth, “your mothers going to wash your mouth out. Percy… I looked back and all I saw was darkness. Radiating away from you, I couldn’t even see you within it, just a few glowing lines. I was scared but I shouldn’t have yelled at you, so I’m sorry.” 

“You saw me,” Percy said quietly, “you saw me, and you were afraid.” 

For Percy it was different. None of the Seven really knew why, but Percy embodied his fathers blood. He wasn’t like Thalia and Jason who had to work to summon lightning, or like Nico who risked fading away if he pushed it too far, Percy was invigorated by his aspects. Now that his body was catching up to his power levels Percy was able to perform feats that should have been impossible. 

“No, I don’t know what I saw-” 

Percy shook his head. Annabeth hadn’t been there last year when he lost his temper. There hadn’t been many chances for Percy to unleash himself fully since then. And he wouldn’t lie, he had been hiding the depths of what he was. Not out of shame but… even amongst the Seven he felt othered. Percy didn’t know why he was beyond those that should have been his equals but he was. He ran his first finger against the scar that bisected his thumb. 

“Do you remember how when we were in the Underworld I made a blood offering to Styx?” 

Annabeth nodded, “Charon seemed really upset but nothing came out of it. And then we were all running around and doing everything so I didn’t think much of it. Blood offerings are rare in this age but there's nothing really wrong with them.”

Percy nodded. He imagined that Annabeth would research blood offerings for a few days before having to focus on other things. That summer was their busiest one too with getting things set up and all of the communication that needed to be done within the Seven. Percy cupped his hands and focused. For the first time he purposely drew upon the waters of the Styx. He was almost shocked how easy it was for the black waters to puddle in his palms. It felt thicker than regular water, closer to a thin oil, and it didn’t invigorate him, but he was able to summon it. 

“I- wha-” 

Percy went a step further. The waters threaded through the air like a forgotten bit of ribbon as he pulled the truth of himself to the surface. The dark around them became much clearer, better suited for his nightseeing eyes. Percy made a face at the feeling of his tongue splitting and becoming forked, tasting the heat in the air that came from the others bodies. Annabeth flinched back, stormcloud eyes wide. He didn’t fight against the water he’d summoned twisting around to circle his brow. 

“And it will be a truth you bear in your scar,” he quoted, “this is the truth. I tied myself to Styx and it unleashed something else I don’t… Annabeth, I know my domains .” 

Percy curled into himself, unwilling to look up. He knew that she would understand what he meant. They’d come back as three-quarter Gods rather than traditional Half Bloods. But when has Percy ever been the standard Halfblood? He wrung his hands, looking down at the light webbing between his fingers. There was the scuffed sound of Annabeth moving, probably away. He flinched away from the fingertip that dragged up the outside of his arm. Faint bioluminescence followed the movement. He looked up from under his brows, taking in Annabeth's soft eyes. 

“Amazing,” she breathed. 

He gaped. Annabeth smiled crookedly, taking his hands in her own. She wasn’t bothered by the webbing, or the dim light coming from the veins under his skin. She didn’t cower away from the sight of a predator's teeth or slit pupils. Instead she pressed the backs of his knuckles to her mouth softly. Annabeth slowly reached up and cradled his jaw with one hand. Percy leaned into the warm touch, the smell of coconut and paper that meant safety and home. 

“I’m not afraid of you Percy. I will never be afraid of you, just don’t hide from me.” 

“Okay,” he rasped, “I’m sorry,” 

Annabeth shook her head, “don’t apologize to me Seaweed brain. Take first watch.” 

He huffed. If that was all it took for Annabeth to accept him as he was then it was an easy deal. He helped her clamber up onto the slab and curl up with her head in his lap. The watch passed smoothly. The sounds of the Labyrinth settling and shifting around them could have been soothing if it wasn’t full of monsters and other terrible things. Percy combed the depths of his memory to try and pull out all of the random bullshit that happened on this quest. He remembered the big stuff, Mount St. Helens, Calypso's Island, his first kiss with Annabeth, fighting Ethan. He was certain that there were smaller things escaping him, but that was a long time ago. 

Who was Percy if he wasn’t making shit up on the fly without any idea of what was going on. 

Once he eventually kicked Grover awake for his turn at the Watch he curled around Annabeth and fell right into sleep. Percy dreamed of Daedalus again, and their end with Minos. He wasn’t sure why he was still having these dreams, surely the Fates knew that he didn’t need the help. Or whoever it was that controlled dreams. Clovis’ dad, he just forgot what the Gods name was. He woke with tears lining his eyes after watching Icarus fall. 

There was no morning in the maze, but once everyone woke up and had a fabulous breakfast of granola bars and juice boxes, they kept traveling. Eventually the halls they traveled through changed from stone and marble to rough hewn blocks of sandstone held up with wooden beams. Percy was the only one of them that seemed to be faring well into the cold air wrapped around them. Their breath clouded around their heads, tracking through the air like the swish of long forgotten travelers. The Labyrinth shifted once more to become soft crumbling dirt. Light fell through the tunnel, solid beams lighting up the dim gloom. 

“Cattle Guard,” Grover gumbled. 

The bane of all hooved beings. Percy had helped Grover climb over plenty of barbed wire rather than go over a cattle guard. A large red cow wandered over, looking down at them from between the bars. Annabeth stopped Grover from reaching out to try and shove the bars up. Tyson solved that problem by hitting the cattle guard with both hands. It popped off and went flying out of sight. They heard a CLANG! and a startled Moo! Tyson blushed heavily. 

“Sorry cow!” Tyson cried. 

They scrambled out of the entrance, peering around the large ranch. It was late evening, everything going golden and buttery soft. Rolling hills stretched to the horizon, dotted with oak trees and cactuses and boulders. A barbed wire fence ran from the gate in either direction. The Sun Cattle seemed to reflect the light off of their red hides. Apollos blessed cattle, grazing peacefully. Loud baying caught their attention, a large two headed greyhound came racing over the hills. 

“Bad Janus dog!” Tyson yelped, trying to hide behind Percy. 

Grover tried to speak to it, maybe say please don’t eat us!, but the dog didn’t seem up for conversation. Then its master lumbered out of the woods, lowering a crossbow at Percy’s chest. He was a huge guy with stark white hair, a straw cowboy hat, and a braided white beard— kind of like Father Time, if Father Time went redneck and got totally jacked. He was wearing jeans, a DON’T MESS WITH TEXAS T-shirt, and a denim jacket with the sleeves ripped off so you could see his muscles. Not Percy’s type but eh, he could see it. 

“Heel Orthus,” he rumbled. 

Orthus did as bade, snarling all the while. Percy kinda wanted to know what he was saying. Then again it had been the shock of his life to learn that Horses had potty mouths, he didn’t want to really think about what Dogs would say. The man looked them up and down, crossbow held at the ready. 

“And what do we have here? Cattle rustlers?” 

“No sir,” Annabeth said, “we’re just Demigods. We’re on a quest and happened to pop up in the wrong area.” 

“I’m Eurytion, the cowherd for this here ranch. Son of Ares. You came through the Labyrinth I reckon.”

“Yeah,” Percy drawled, “hey I’ve never seen cattle in person before, how much work goes into taking care of them.” 

Eurytion looked at him like he was an idiot. Percy just shrugged and gave him a crooked smile. He was hoping that his better relationship with Ares would help him out this time around. 

Eurytion glanced behind them like he was worried that someone was watching, “I’m only going to say this once, demigods. Get back in the maze now. Before it’s too late.”

But they knew that the Ranch was supplying the army with food and beasts. Last time Percy had insisted that they needed to be there in order to complete his search for Nico. Considering that that wasn’t such a big deal this time around they could technically leave. 

“I’m sorry Eurytion, but we need to have a meeting with your master.” Annabeth said. 

Eurytion sighed and shook his head, “if you insist young lady, right this way.” 

Percy didn’t feel like they were hostages or anything. The cruelest part of their treatment was dealing with the sudden tone shift to be hiking through a hundred weather. Eurytion whistled as he led them and his two headed hound stuck close to his heels. They made their way down a dirt trail that seemed like it could go on forever, right outside the barbed wire that separated the paddocks. He glared at the pen of the fire breathing horses. They seemed to scent him in the air, tossing their heads and whinnying as he passed. 

“You do not want to know what they’re saying,” he muttered. 

Tyson snorted next to him, flushed more from what he was hearing than the heat. They kept going until they finally made their way to the ranch house. Percy nudged Annabeth out of her immediate spiral about the architecture of the house. She knocked her elbow against his ribs with an annoyed huff. 

“Don’t break the rules,” Eurytion warned as they walked up the steps to the

front porch. “No fighting. No drawing weapons. And don’t make any

comments about the boss’s appearance.”

Percy had enough time to be confused at what he was forgetting before he heard a loud voice, “Welcome to Triple G Ranch!” 

Ohhhh, that. Right. The man on the porch had a normal head, which was a relief. His face was weathered and brown from years in the sun. He had slick black hair and a black pencil mustache like villains have in old movies. He smiled at them, but the smile wasn’t friendly; more amused, like Oh boy, more people to torture! His neck connected to the middle chest like normal, but he had two more chests, one to either side, connected at the shoulders, with a few inches between. His left arm grew out of his left chest, and the same on the right, so he had two arms, but four armpits, if that makes any sense. The chests all connected into one enormous torso, with two regular but very beefy legs, and he wore the most oversized pair of Levis he’d ever seen. 

Percy bit his lip to keep from snorting. It was an unfortunate fact of life that some Greek beings were strange. The man's eyes narrowed with suspicion. Percy gave a half hearted salute. 

“Say hello for Mr. Geryon kids,” Euytrion ordered. 

“Howdy,” Annabeth said. 

Geryon looked them over slowly, “well then. Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, and a few monster friends.” 

“Oi!” Grover protested. 

“Now come along, folks. I want to give you a tour of the ranch.”  

Geryon had a trolley thing—like one of those kiddie trains that take you around zoos. It was painted black and white in a cowhide pattern. The driver’s car had a set of longhorns stuck to the hood, and the horn sounded like a cowbell. Annabeth had stars in her eyes as she hopped in it. Percy slunk in beside her, trying to melt into the leather so that no one saw him riding such a horrible thing. Eurytion crawled in next to him with his spiked club and pulled his cowboy hat over his eyes like he was going to take a nap. Orthus jumped in the front seat next to Geryon and began barking happily in two-part harmony. 

“We have a huge operation!” Geryon boasted as the moo-mobile lurched forward. “Horses and cattle mostly, but all sorts of exotic varieties, too.” 

Annabeth vibrated beside him, listing off all the animals and their current status. A lot were endangered or close to it. Percy twitched at the feeling of anger that wasn’t his own. The Empathy Link did go both ways occasionally. And Grover was likely about to consider murder. Percy supposed he would have to do it again, at least he wouldn’t feel guilty about it later. 

Geryon said. “Now, over here are my prize stables! You must see them.”

Percy didn’t need to see them. He shoved his face under his shift collar to try and block the smell. Near the banks of a green river was a horse corral the size of a football field. Stables lined one side of it. About a hundred horses were milling around in the muck, stagnant shit that had been left in the sun to fester. It came up to the poor horses knees, slicking down their coats and making awful noises as they moved through it. 

“My stables!” Geryon said. “Well, actually they belong to Aegas, but we watch over them for a small monthly fee. Aren’t they lovely?”

“Flesh eaters,” Annabeth muttered to Grover, “nothing can get in there to clean.” 

Geryon nodded rapidly, “Finally someone understands! Now everyone I bring over here just cries about the smell. Oh, you’d be surprised how many people will pay for a flesh-eating horse. They make great garbage disposals. Wonderful way to terrify your enemies. Great at birthday parties! We rent them out all the time.” 

“Kronos’ armies do pay well don’t they,” Annabeth said almost casually. 

Geryon started to nod before his head whipped around to glare at them. Percy gave his patented shark-like smile from the back seat. Geryon shrugged, which was very weird since he had three sets of shoulders. It looked like he was doing the wave all by himself. 

“I work for anyone with gold, young lady. I’m a businessman. And I sell them anything I have to offer.”

He climbed out of the moo-mobile and strolled toward the stables as if enjoying the fresh air. It would’ve been a nice view, with the river and the trees and hills and all, except for the quagmire of horse muck. Geryon stopped and turned to them with a sunny smile on his face. 

“Now youngins, I’ve been paid very well to keep you here long enough for another friend to meet you.” 

Percy rolled his eyes, “are you bringing Luke? Cause I’ve wanted to make some things clear to him for a good long while.” 

Geryon paused. Percy tapped his finger against his knee and waited. Annabeth shook next to him with muffled laughter. Percy let a little of the pressure held within him free, dropping the temperature of the small area. Annabeth leaned forward and propper her elbows on her knees. 

“See this is how things are going to go,” she said slyly, “you’re going to tell us everything we need to know about Kronos’ armies, where they’re moving, how much they’re paying you, their numbers, everything.” 

“Now listen here little miss-” 

“Mind your fucking tone,” he growled, glaring at Geryon.

Annabeth flicked her wrist and the weapon Tyson made for her appeared in her hand. But it had changed. The blade was originally a simple straight edged throwing knife connected to a length of rope. Now the blade had grown, only a little smaller than the common shortsword, with a wider hooked head and the pommel was made of scaled leather. The rope from the end appeard to be the same, but for a split second Percy could have sworn it was a chain that wrapped around Annabeth's wrist. The feather stamped into the blade glowed blood red when it flipped through the air. 

There was a tug in his gut as the land remembered that the land of the Ranch had once belonged to the sea. The ground beneath Geryons feet began to tremble, dust dancing in the air. Dozens of tiny seashell fossils dotted the red dirt like constellations. Percy smiled slowly as black water began to rise. 

“On second thought… we don’t need you.” Annabeth said. 

Her arm lifted and fell. That knife flashed through the air. It landed directly in the middle of Geryon's middle chest. Annabeth sighed and yanked it free. The man fell to his knees, but they knew that hitting one heart wouldn’t do enough. Annabeth hopped out of the moo-mobil and took careful aim. This time the knife carved a trench through his throat. Annabeth ripped it free as he dissolved, leaving behind nothing but mint condition cowboy boots. Percy hopped out of the Moo-mobile and grabbed the boots to sacrifice to Styx. Maybe She would like the weird bumpy alligator hide they were made of. Annabeth turned back to Eurytion with one eyebrow raised. 

“Not even a word of complaint. Shame.” 

Eurytion shrugged, “guys a creep. I’ve been stuck here for thousands of years. Started as a regular half-blood, but I chose immortality when my dad offered it. Worst mistake I ever made. Now I’m stuck here at this ranch. I can’t leave. I can’t quit. I just tend the cows and fight Geryon’s fights. We’re kinda tied together.”

“Well then change things,” Percy said flatly. 

Eurytion narrowed his eyes. “How?” 

“Be nice to the animals. Take care of them. Stop selling them for food. And stop dealing with the Titans.” 

Eurytion thought about that. “That’d be alright.” 

“Get the animals on your side, and they’ll help you. Once Geryon gets back, maybe he’ll be working for you this time.” 

Eurytion grinned. “Now, that I could live with.” 

“You won’t try to stop us leaving?” 

“Shoot, no.” 

Eurytion waved them on as he clambered out of the trolly, crossbow slung over his shoulder. Percy took a second to watch him observe the lands before snorting and shaking his head. At least this time he hadn’t had to deal with cleaning the horses. Something told him that Styx would have protested Her waters being used to clean shit. They made their way back to the Labyrinth. And this time they didn’t have to deal with the drama of a pissed off Nico Di Angelo. 

They decided to take a mid day nap in the Labyrinth. Percy wasn’t really tired, but Grover and Tyson were. Being in the Labyrinth was draining them more than it was draining the Demigods. Annabeth's theory was once more based on the fact of them being technically three-quarters Gods. He eventually managed to doze off, and found himself somewhere he didn’t expect. The first thing that cued him in was the loud shouting and swearing. Percy had last heard that voice over Christmas break, screaming in pain. Pain that Percy had wrought. 

He was on Mount Othrys, in the fortress of Kronos. Everything was in the process of being rebuilt, monsters darting here and there to do the work. Standing on the other side of the hall was a familiar figure, peering around the corner. 

“Jay!” Percy hissed. 

Jason Grace just about leapt out of his skin, whirling around with his golden sword bared and ready. Percy just rolled his eyes. Jason's face broke out into a wide grin at the sight of him. He tossed his sword into the air for it to reform and jogged over. Neither of them were solid, but Percy liked to pretend he could feel the massive hug Jason wrapped around him. Jason pulled back and looked him over quickly. 

“What the hell man, I thought you guys were in the Labyrinth?” 

“We are! What are you doing?” 

Jason shrugged, “I got put on bedrest for the day and decided to take a nap.” 

Percy narrowed his eyes and looked Jason over. Nothing looked broken but that didn’t really matter in dreams. Jason huffed and wrapped a hand around his shoulders and dragged him over to the corner. 

“Shut up and let me listen.” 

But as soon as Percy started to lean forward to listen for himself he was yanked from the dream. He made a face, peeking around the field he found himself in. It was nice enough if he was the type to really appreciate spending time in the middle of nowhere with nothing to do. There wasn’t a God, Monster, or Person in sight. He didn’t like it. Believe it or not Percy had bad experiences with the whole ‘mother nature’ type thing. Nothing like being murdered by your grandmother to make you appreciate the city life. He crept forward, crouching low in the tall golden grass. But nothing happened. There was just bird song and the quiet sh-sh-sh of the grass. 

Percy woke unsettled. He couldn’t explain it, but he felt like something had changed. Some kind of force had rippled away from him, reaching unknown corners. Annabeth gave him a concerned look but he just shook his head. They would figure out what happened sooner or later. 

She tossed her new knife once before sliding it away. Only the Blade changed forms, unlike Percy’s weapons or like Clarisse’s spear Lamar. She kept it concealed in its smaller form by wrapping the rope connected to it around and around her arm, then slid the thin blade between rope and skin. Personally Percy would be worried about cutting himself on accident, but Annabeth didn’t seem concerned. She shook her arm once to be sure it was secure before rising to her feet. In the dull light of the Labyrinth the weapon looked like a wrist brace for a moment before Percy was able to look through the Mists and see it as it was once more. 

“Let's go, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover.” 

Annabeth reached under her shirt and pulled out the small pendant that Eurytion had given her. It looked like a simple silver disk with a small indentation the size of a thumb. He hadn’t seen her get that, he must have been distracted. She crinkled her nose and plucked at something he couldn’t see above the disk. She was messing with the threads of magic that created it. By the time she was done he had woken Grover and Tyson and they were ready to go. Annabeth nodded with a pleased look and activated the disk. This time it only grew four legs, staying away from the possible triggering spider form it had originally. 

Percy took Annabeth's hand and they were off, following the disk as it scuttled away. He wished someone had thought to put the damn thing on a leash, or put it on slow mode. Half of the time he couldn’t see it at all, and they had to track it by hearing more than anything else. They rushed down a marble hallway, filled with busts of grumpy looking old men. The disk veered to the left and Percy followed, nearly sending himself into empty space. Ananbeth yanked them backwards, sliding across the slick floor. He picked himself up slowly, thanking all of the Gods for her quick reflexes that kept them from falling. 

“Look!” Grover pointed over their heads. 

The little disk was swinging across a set of iron bars set into the ceiling. It dropped down on the other side and took off again. Percy sighed heavily and followed Annabeth across them. He had to keep from looking down into the depths of the hole beneath them or he would panic. He was pretty sure she felt the same, because while they waited for Tyson and Grover she clung to his hand so hard the bones ground against each other. They kept moving, passing another skeleton. Poor bastard was in formal attire, like he had gotten lost on the way to work. Percy barely avoided falling into a pile of wood scraps, but when he looked down he realized that they were actually pencils. 

Hundreds of them, snapped in half. He wrinkled his brow, trying to remember what was up ahead. Annabeth didn’t seem concerned, though Grover and Tyson gave nearly matching whimpers at the smell of a very powerful monster. They moved farther, finding more and more skeletons. Some were dried out white bones that crumbled if nudged, others were… fresh. The smell of rot was bad enough for them all to tuck their faces behind their shirts to attempt to find some clean air. 

Then he saw the monster. She stood on a glittery dais on the opposite side of the room. She had the body of a huge lion and the head of a woman. She would’ve been pretty, but her hair was tied back in a tight bun and she wore too much makeup, so she kind of reminded him of his third-grade choir teacher. She had a blue ribbon badge pinned to her chest that took him a moment to read: THIS MONSTER HAS BEEN RATED EXEMPLARY! The Sphinx. Tyson whimpered and hunched down behind them. Percy bared his teeth at the Sphynx who looked all too interested in his little brother. 

Annabeth started forward, but the Sphinx roared, showing fangs in her otherwise human face. Bars came down on both tunnel exits, behind them and in front. Immediately the monster’s snarl turned into a brilliant tv smile. 

“Welcome contestants! Get ready to play…ANSWER THAT RIDDLE!” 

Canned applause blasted from the ceiling, as if there were invisible loudspeakers. Spotlights swept across the room and reflected off the dais, throwing disco glitter over the skeletons on the floor. Percy shuddered at the feeling of a dozen unseen eyes suddenly turning to focus on his back. The Sphinx had them on TV, same as the Waterpark on their first quest. He was not anymore okay with it now than he had been then, or even the first time around. He drew Riptide, watching for any flicker of unwanted movement. Thankfully the disk had gotten trapped with them, though it was scrabbling desperately to try and get free. 

“Fabulous prizes!” the Sphinx said. “Pass the test, and you get to advance! Fail, and I get to eat you! Who will be our contestant?”

Annabeth stepped forward, her chin raised in defiance. Percy fell in at her shoulder, trusting Grover and Tyson to cover their backs. She stepped forward to the contestant’s podium, which had a skeleton in a school uniform hunched over it. She pushed the skeleton out of the way, and it clattered to the floor. Percy forced himself to step back and give her room. 

“Welcome, Annabeth Chase!” the monster cried, though Annabeth hadn’t said her name. “Are you ready for your test?” 

“Yes,” she said. “Ask your riddle.”

“Twenty riddles, actually!” the Sphinx said gleefully. 

“What? But back in the old days—” 

“Oh, we’ve raised our standards! To pass, you must show proficiency in all twenty. Isn’t that great?”

Annabeth audibly snarled. The canned applause kicked on and off like some kid playing with a lightswitch. Percy began calculating what they would need to do in order to be able to defeat the Sphinx. It was easily an S-Tier monster, but Percy had faced off against plenty of those before. He would have to be careful of her claws but- oh wait, nevermind, Annabeth agreed to the test. He shifted uneasily as she blitzed through the first few questions without any issues. As long as they didn’t have to fight the damn thing. Percy would bow to whoever he needed to that had ensured that Annabeth had learned when was a good time to keep her mouth shut. 

Now if only they could do the same for him. 

Thankfully the test was just a freshmen level pop quiz. Annabeth was able to answer everything and then hand over the paper to the Sphinx to get graded. Percy was about 75% sure that he was going to have nightmares about having to take a STAR test graded by the Sphynx now. They were reluctantly let through and restarted their mad dash after the little disk. Finally it ended up at a massive rough hewn door, slamming its little head into the jam over and over again. They all looked at eachother, backed by the tinking of the disk. 

“Ready to meet Hephaestus?” Grover asked nervously. 

“No.” Percy said flatly. 

Really. He knew why they needed to see the God, but did literally anyone think it was a good idea to let Percy around Him? Did they not hear about what happened in New Mexico? The blood Percy had placed at the Gods feet? 

“Just be quiet,” Annabeth said softly. 

Percy grunted and grabbed the door. At least Tyson was excited to meet Him. As soon as the door opened the disk scuttled in, Tyson right behind it. The others filed in a little slower, Percy bringing up the rear. He hoped that they would think the rumbling of the floor was because of all of the machinery. 

The room was enormous. It looked like a mechanic’s garage, with several hydraulic lifts. Some had cars on them, but others had stranger things: a bronze hippalektryon with its horse head off and a bunch of wires hanging out its rooster tail, a metal lion that seemed to be hooked up to a battery charger, and a Greek war chariot made entirely of flames. Smaller projects cluttered a dozen worktables. Tools hung along the walls. Each had its own outline on a Peg-Board, but nothing seemed to be in the right place. The hammer was over the screwdriver place. The staple gun was where the hacksaw was supposed to go. Beckendorf would lose his shit and summon the whole cabin to put everything in its assigned place at the threat of death. 

Under the nearest hydraulic lift, which was holding a ’98 Toyota Corolla, a pair of legs stuck out—the lower half of a huge man in grubby gray pants and shoes even bigger than Tyson’s. One leg was in a metal brace. The spider scuttled straight under the car, and the sounds of banging stopped. 

“Well, well,” a deep voice boomed from under the Corolla. “What have we here?”

Hephaestus rolled out from under the car and squinted up at them. Here in His own workshop, He apparently didn’t care how He looked. He wore a jumpsuit smeared with oil and grime. Hephaestus was embroidered over the chest pocket. His leg creaked and clicked in its metal brace as He stood, and His left shoulder was lower than His right, so He seemed to be leaning even when He was standing up straight. His black beard smoked and hissed. Every once in a while a small wildfire would erupt in His whiskers then die out. His hands were the size of catcher’s mitts, but He handled the spider with amazing skill. He disassembled it in two seconds, then put it back together. 

“Jackson.” 

Percy thought that not drawing his weapon was a good enough sign of respect. As good as it would get in any case. Grover huffed and grabbed his hand. The physical contact helped ground him from the raging inferno of his temper. All he could see was the tears rolling down Drews face, the acceptance in her eyes. 

He looked at Grover and frowned. “Satyr.” Then He looked at Tyson, and His eyes twinkled. “Well, Cyclops. Good, good. What are you doing traveling with this lot?” 

“Uhm…” Tyson shot Percy a nervous look. 

Percy tended to forget that Cyclops’ could also sense emotions to a degree. His poor little brother was sensitive on a good day, he didn’t want to think about how awkward Tyson probably felt. 

“So, there’d better be a good reason you’re disturbing me. The suspension on this Corolla is no small matter, you know.”

Percy opened his mouth, probably to say something rude, but Grover's grip on his hand turned to iron and kept him silent. 

“My Lord,” Annabeth said with a slight bow, ““we’re looking for Daedalus. We thought—” 

“Daedalus?” the God roared. “You want that old scoundrel? You dare to seek him out!” His beard burst into flames and his black eyes glowed. 

“Uh, yes, sir, please,” Annabeth said. 

“Humph. You’re wasting your time.”

 He frowned at something on his work table and limped over to it. He picked up a lump of springs and metal plates and tinkered with them. In a few seconds He was holding a bronze and silver falcon. It spread its metal wings, blinked its obsidian eyes, and flew around the room. Tyson laughed and clapped his hands. The bird landed on Tyson’s shoulder and nipped his ear affectionately. Hephaestus regarded him. The God’s scowl didn’t change, but Percy thought he saw a kinder twinkle in His eyes. 

“I sense you have something to tell me, Cyclops.” 

Tyson’s smile faded. “Y-yes, lord. We met a Hundred-Handed One.” 

“Hmph. Briares I assume?” 

“Yes. He was scared-face, he would not help us.” 

Hepaestus nodded, “beings, even ones as great as Us, change over time little one.” 

He cut His eyes over to Percy, “you are either brave or foolish to enter my domain after insulting me so boy.” 

Percy bared his teeth, pressure building in his gut, “I’m not the one who murdered a child though am I?” 

Every automaton in the shop turned to glare at him. But Percy did not relent in his staring. Hephaestus leaned back on His roller and crossed His arms. 

“Brave or foolish indeed. Well, say your piece!” 

“We need to find Daedalus. Luke is working for Kronos. He’s trying to find a way to navigate the Labyrinth so he can invade our camp. If we don’t get to Daedalus first—”

“And I told you, boy. Looking for Daedalus is a waste of time. He won’t help you.” 

“Why not?” 

Hephaestus shrugged. “Some of us get thrown off mountain sides. Some of us…the way we learn not to trust people is more painful. Ask me for gold. Or a flaming sword. Or a magical steed. These I can grant you easily. But a way to Daedalus? That’s an expensive favor.”

“What’s your price?” Annbeth asked. 

“One of my forges,” Hephaestus said. “I have many, but that used to be my favorite.” 

“That’s Mount St. Helens,” Grover said. “Great forests around there.” 

Annabeth cocked her head, “you said it used to be. What happened to it?” 

Hephaestus huffed, “the same thing that will happen to your Camp if not stopped. It was overrun by beasts. t lately I have sensed intruders in my mountain. Someone or something is using my forges. When I go there, it is empty, but I can tell it is being used. They sense me coming, and they disappear. I send my automatons to investigate, but they do not return. Something…ancient is there. Evil. I want to know who dates invade my territory, and if they mean to loose Typhon.” 

“Go and find out what you can,” Hephaestus said. “Report back to me, and I will tell you what you need to know about Daedalus.”

“We will need a guide through the Labyrinth.” Annabeth said flatly. 

Hephaestus clapped his hands and the little disk came skittering down one wall, “My creation will show you the way. It is not far through the Labyrinth. And try to stay alive, will you? Humans are much more fragile than automatons.” 

Percy snorted and turned away. And so, off again, they went. 

Chapter Text

They took off once more. At least this time the disk was slower, and it stopped to wait for them anytime they were too far behind. It was going well until they reached an area where the tunnels hit a sudden V. One side led deeper and deeper into the depths. The other was dug from raw earth, held up by tree roots that dripped thick sheets of moss. Grover stopped dead in his tracks, color leaching from his face. 

“This is it” he breathed out, like any sudden noise would make it dissolve into ash. 

“What?” Tyson asked. 

Grover didn’t answer. A sweet smelling breeze whistled down the tunnel, ruffling his curly hair. Percy braced his shoulder against his friends. Annabeth caught his eye from the other side of him, sorrow on her face. They knew what was coming, and how much it would hurt. Grover was so enthusiastic about Pan, same as all of the Satyrs and Nature Spirits. It was on par with the Hunters and Artemis, one of the few groups of people who were wholly loyal to their Gods and so beloved in return. 

“This is the way I need to go!” Grover said urgently. 

Already Percy could see the roots that made up the tunnel shifting. In moments they would collapse the way. And he got the feeling that if he went down there then there would be no returning. At least, not in time for them to get to the forges. 

“We split up,” Percy said. 

It shocked Grover out of his daze enough for him to whip around, “Percy we-” 

He shook his head, “Nah G, this is your life's work. Go! Find Pan!” 

“I will go with him,” Tyson said quietly. 

Percy blinked tears out of his eyes. Tyson smiled and wrapped him in a bone crushing hug. That ripple feeling was back. Like something had been displaced and Percy didn’t know what it was. But the two groups divided up their food and supplies before splitting ways. Percy watched Grover and Tyson walk down the tunnel to Pan and it felt like he was pulling out his own ribs. 

“They’ll be okay right? This was fine last time right?” he asked. 

“They have to be.” was all Annabeth said before she started tugging him after the disk. 

It wasn’t much longer before the tunnel started to get hot. Percy shifted uncomfortably, sweat running down his back. The best he could do was constantly use a thread of power to cool their sweat as they walked. He seemed to remember being much more heat resistant, but it seemed like that ability had drifted away once his domains settled into the cold and dark. The stone around them changed to something glossy and black. It was Annabeth who pointed out that they were traveling through a magma tube. He was pointedly not thinking about how he couldn’t spread his arms to their full length because of how tight the tunnel was. 

The tunnel started dropping deeper, pressure a kind friend around him. Annabeth had to take his hand so that he could extend the ability to her before her ears popped to bits. He could hear something rushing, not water but still liquid. If he found real life lava he was going to turn around and go home. After another half mile or so they entered a cavern the size of a football stadium. The disk sat down and turned back into its inert form. They were there. 

There was no floor, just boiling lava a hundred feet below. Percy did try to turn and leave, but Annabeth caught him by the collar before he could go very far. She hauled him back against her side and wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to keep him there. He grumbled a bit but leaned his weight into her. They stood on a rock ridge that circled most of the cavern. In the middle- surrounded by all of the lava- was a platform built on some kind of godly metal that did not melt and piled with all sorts of machines, cauldrons, forges, and the largest anvil he’d ever seen. Creatures moved around the platform—several strange, dark shapes, but they were too far away to make out details.

Annabeth turned to him, a serious look on her face. Percy cocked his head in silent question. She took a deep breath, fingers tapping against the rope around her forearm. 

“Percy, I’m… worried.” 

“About the others?” he asked. 

She nodded, “them and more. I just- when I asked for clarity Hera told me something,” Annabeth caught one of his hands in her own, “she told me we can only bargain with Fate for so long.” 

Something ripped in his chest. Percy couldn’t explain it in any other way than suddenly feeling like he was prey, and some massive predator was swimming toward him. 

“What does that mean?” he asked through numb lips. 

Annabeth shook her head, “I don’t know, but swear to me that you will be careful okay?” 

He nodded, “I swear Annabeth. On Styx” 

The oath rippled through the air. Percy felt Styx take notice, unseen nails digging welts down the line of his spine. Annabeth stared at him for another long moment, silver lining her storm cloud eyes. Finally she took a deep breath, seeming to make a decision. 

“I’ll go, try not to get caught this time,” Annabeth said. 

He rolled his eyes at her and gently shoved her on. She turned invisible and within seconds he was alone. Percy made a face at the feeling, unused to it after so long. He leaned against the wall for a second, only to hop away with a harsh hiss. The skin of his back might be pan fried crispy now. He awkwardly stood there, rocking his weight back and forth on his heels for a good fifteen minutes before Annabeth whistled to get his attention. It was their game plan when she was invisible, after one to many near misses with Riptide. She shimmered back to view, covered in soot and grime. 

“Okay,” she whispered, “as far as I can tell everything is the same. What’s our move?” 

“We need to clear the Forge. We can always just go fish up Rachel for the path, but we can’t afford for Kronos to have such easy access to making weapons.” he whispered back. 

Annabeth nodded in agreement, “okay. Same as last time?” 

He shot her a crooked smile. Annabeth huffed and rolled her eyes but she couldn’t play him. He saw the smile she tried to hide. She tugged him in by the hair and gave him a hard kiss before pushing him away. 

“If you die I will kill you seaweed brain.” 

Percy could have sat there with a goofy grin for days if he was able. Sadly for him he was in a mountain full of monsters that needed to be taken care of. Maybe his blast wouldn’t wake Typhoon this time? He doubted it. They needed to take everything out so that it would be unusable in the future, not just sneak through and murder all of the monsters. Percy smacked himself a few times and got to moving. He bolted to the platform before any monsters raised the alarm, startling the Telekhines. The dropped Backbiter, or its new Scythe form that Percy didn’t know the name of in shock, but got over their surprise sadly quickly. 

“What do we have here?” one of them hissed, “A poor lost Sea Nymph?” 

Well that was a new one. Hey, he wasn’t going to argue. Maybe if they thought he could be recruited he would have a better chance of not getting blown to shit. 

“Yes,” another growled. “I can smell the salt in his blood.”

You know… they didn’t seem very friendly. He raised Riptide, sending them into a round of rough barking laughs. He was used to being recognized as ‘Percy Jackson, Son of Poseidon’ the second he was seen. It was actually kind of weird to not be known. Then again that meant no one knew what he could do. He pushed his power out, pressure creaking against his bones and filling him up like a balloon animal. 

the tallest telekhine said, “Let us see how strong he is. Let us see how long it takes him to burn!”

He scooped some lava out of the nearest furnace. It set his fingers ablaze, but this didn’t seem to bother him at all. The other elder telekhines did the same. The first one threw a glop of molten rock at him and set his pants on fire. Two more splattered across his chest. Percy yelped and reflexively dropped Riptide, swiping at the lava. It didn’t burn him, but it was uncomfortably hot. 

“Your master's nature protects you,” one said. “Makes you hard to burn. But not impossible, youngling. Not impossible.”

The pressure building up inside of him finally popped. That was the only way Percy could describe it. Last Christmas when he lost Annabeth and now again. The Pressure needed to escape his mortal binds and when it did it was brutal. All of his joints cracked simultaneously, his ears popped, all of the breath came whooshing out of his lungs, Percy would have swore his very blood was being forced out of his pores. Maybe it was, it wasn’t like he could see from the middle of the pitch black geyser that erupted around him. 

He was distantly aware of the steam in the air as water and Lava fought for dominance. The screams- both his own and those of the monsters. The feeling of falling as the platform gave out. Something was boiling, and Percy had the delirious thought that it was him. The last thought he had before he lost consciousness was that Annabeth was going to kick his ass . 

~~~

Percy woke up feeling a little bit like he had been run over. His skin was still on fire, his throat felt like he had swallowed glass, every rasping inhale shifted his very broken ribs and collarbones. He cracked open his eyes and it felt like someone was driving an icepick directly into his brain. Far above him the perfect blue sky stretched. He could hear a gurgling fountain, and the gentle rock of waves against a shore, and smell various sweet scented plants. His hand twitched as he considered moving, but Percy did occasionally have a brain in his skull. There was no way in Hades that he was sitting up. 

Then the girl’s face appeared above him. She had almond eyes and caramel colored hair braided over one shoulder. Calypso. She began singing, and his pain dissolved. She was working magic. He could feel her music sinking into his skin, healing and repairing his injuries. She laid a cool cloth across his forehead. A bronze spoon hovered over him and liquid was dribbled into his mouth. The drink soothed his throat and left a warm chocolaty aftertaste. Nectar of the gods. Percy frowned a bit when it was pulled away too soon. Calypso didn’t know that he was able to handle more Nectar and Ambrosia than most Mortals. He tried to protest and was shushed. 

“Don’t speak, you are still very injured. No harm will come to you here. I am Calypso.” 

The next time Percy clawed himself out of unconsciousness the sky had been replaced with a stone cave. Percy had a moment of confusion- wondering if he was back under the sky- before his brain came fully online. The ceiling glittered with different color crystal formations; white and purple and green, like he was inside one of those cut geodes you see in souvenir shops. He was lying on a comfortable bed with feather pillows and cotton sheets. The cave was divided into sections by white silk curtains. Against one wall stood a large loom and a harp. Against the other wall were shelves neatly stacked with jars of fruit preserves. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling: rosemary, thyme, and a bunch of other stuff. His mother would have named them all. 

He felt a bit like he was a stone dropped into the center of a still pond, like the ripples stretching away from him were nearing the edge. Percy lay there for a few minutes, mentally debating if he was well enough to risk sitting up. His everything still ached, but it didn’t feel like he was choking on rib shards anymore. He slowly levered himself upright, swaying a bit at the wave of dizziness and black that spotted his vision. He was wearing a plain white t-shirt and soft sweatpants. Telos swung gently around his neck and Riptide was in the pocket of his sweatpants. He braced himself on the side of the bed and pushed to his feet. Percy was very glad that there was no one there to make fun of him when he immediately hunched over, sucking in greedy gasps of air. 

Percy managed to straighten back out but he was so dizzy his balance was shot. He fumbled at his necklace until he could pull Telos free and lean some of his weight into the Trident. Once his head stopped giving its best ‘merry go round’ impression he hobbled over to the bronze mirror. He whistled lowly at what was reflected back at him. He’d lost at least twenty pounds, and his har had grown out into a shaggy rats nest as well as being singed around the edges. A few new scars flecked his face and the outsides of his arms from the launch and landing. If Percy had to guess Calypso had forced his body into a rapid passage of time to stimulate healing. 

He frowned at the mirror one more time and turned away. The entrance to the cave was off to his right and sunlight beckoned. The cave opened onto a green meadow. On the left was a grove of cedar trees and on the right a huge flower garden. Four fountains gurgled in the meadow, each shooting water from the pipes of stone satyrs. Straight ahead, the grass sloped down to a rocky beach. The waves of a lake lapped against the stones. Percy wished it was the sea so that he could hide out in it and let the water heal his lingering soreness, but no such luck for him. Calypso was standing at the beach, talking to someone. Percy couldn’t see him very well in the shimmer from the sunlight off the water, but they appeared to be arguing.

He slowly worked his way over, still using Telos as a crutch. By the time he crossed the gravel and into the grass Calypso was on her own. She watched him draw closer, face stern in a way that tried to hide her expression. Percy sorta felt awful. He knew what had to happen for him to be freed from the Island. Then again Calypso had technically cursed him at one point and Annabeth had nearly died from taking on that curse in Tartarus. 

“Well,” she said, trying for a smile, “the sleeper finally wakes!” 

“How long was I out?” he rasped, voice sounding a bit like a microwaved frog. 

Calypso made a so-so motion, “Time… time is difficult here. I honestly don’t know Percy.” 

“You know my name?” 

This time her smile was a little more real, “you talk in your sleep you know.” 

Percy chuckled, “I’ve been told that before.” 

Calypso cocked her head, “who is Annabeth?” 

Percy didn’t bother trying to hide his fond smile as he leaned more of his weight into Telos, “she’s my heart. We’ve been together for a long time.” 

Calypso assessed him for a moment, “you are older than you look aren’t you?” 

“So are you good lady,” he said. 

Calypso’s mouth twitched, “Hermes warned me about you.” 

He raised one brow and gestured to himself loosely, “do I look like I could be a threat?” 

“Maybe not right now, but I’m not sure if I believe some of the stories He said.” 

Percy’s smile grew a little wicked, “if they were about me annoying the Gods they were probably true. I’ve been told I’m impertinent.” 

Calypso snorted, “what you are is exhausted. Rest, before you fall asleep on your feet.” 

Calypso helped him to a cushioned bench by one of the fountains and Percy laid down. He fell back asleep to the sound of humming and the smell of cinnamon. The next time he woke up it was night, but for the life of him Percy couldn’t tell if it was the same night or days later. He was back in the cave, but he rose and padded his way outside with less difficulty than before. Outside the night sky was simply stunning. There was none of the light pollution that he knew from growing up in the city covering the stars. Including the Huntress, the tribute to his old friend Zoe. 

“What do you see?” Calypso asked from beside him. 

Percy hummed lightly and pointed up to Zoe, “I knew Zoe. We weren’t really close, but she died so that we could rescue the Goddess Artemis and my Annabeth.” 

Calypso swallowed heavily, “the daughter of Atlas, I heard.” 

Percy was pretty sure they were related in some way. He couldn’t remember off the top of his head but he was at least 75% sure anyway. 

“My father tried to escape his punishment and you helped return him,” she said. 

Ah right. Calypso was another one of Atlas’ daughters. That was the whole reason she was confined to the Island. There had been no oath to Artemis to save her like Zoe. Or maybe Calypso could not bear to give up love to join the hunters, he didn’t know. 

“It’s not fair,” he sighed, head still tilted to look up at the stars, “that you have been bound here by your fathers sins.” 

“You are going to War for your father,” she countered, voice thick with tears. 

“I am going to War for my people,” he corrected gently, “for all of the Half bloods who were never claimed, for the ones we have lost, all of those that I love so very deeply.” 

Calypso finally turned to study him. Percy kept his eyes on the stars. He felt his true age then, no matter that his body was still only fifteen. 

“Are you healed yet?” Calypso asked quietly, “do you think you will be ready to leave in the morning?” 

He nodded. He was still sore, and taking a full breath made his chest ache, but he needed to go home. Calypso nodded and turned away. Percy finally dropped his gaze just to watch her scrub tears from her eyes. He sighed sadly. Calypso turned on her heel and sprinted doe-quick down the beach. Percy shook his head and walked back into the cave, curling on his side in bed. That night Percy dreamed of Hephaestus. 

He found himself back in the Gods workroom, surrounded by the noise of metal on metal. It took a while for Hepheastus to even notice him, or at least a while to look at him. Percy took a seat on a massive half made automaton turtle, tracking the scales of its shell. 

“Wasn’t sure if you were going to come back,” Hepheastus eventually grumbled. 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked. 

“You landed yourself in a nice place, with a pretty gal, away from the War and The Gods you barely tolerate. Why would you?” Hepheastus pushed out from underneath the engine block of a Semi and studied Percy. 

“My friends are out there. The people I love.” 

Hephaestus studied him skeptically. He fished something out of His pocket, a metal disk the size of an iPod. He clicked a button and it expanded into a miniature bronze TV. On the screen was news footage of Mount St. Helens, a huge plume of fire and ash trailing into the sky. 

“Still uncertain about further eruptions,” the newscaster was saying. “Authorities have ordered the evacuation of almost half a million people as a precaution. Meanwhile, ash has fallen as far away as Lake Tahoe and Vancouver, and the entire Mount St. Helens area is closed to traffic within a hundred-mile radius. While no deaths have been reported, minor injuries and illnesses include—”

“You caused quite the explosion.” 

Percy shrugged, “I didn’t really mean to. Releasing that much pressure in a volcano really was a bad idea though.” 

Hepheastus snorted and shoved the disk back in His pocket, “The telekhines were scattered. Some vaporized. Some got away, no doubt. I don’t think they’ll be using my forge any time soon. On the other hand, neither will I. the explosion caused Typhon to stir in his sleep. We’ll have to wait and see—”

Percy swore. He knew that Kronos likely would have woken him anyway but it would have been harder if Percy hadn’t poked the ant pile first. 

“You’re the son of the Earthshaker for sure. And I get the feeling we’ve only just begun to see your true power.” 

Percy fought down a smile. The Gods really had no idea. And he was just the most blatant of them. Did Hepheastus realize that His son might as well have the soul of a dragon? Did Aphrodite know that Her daughter could command legions with her charmspeak? Percy, Nico, Hazel, Jason. They were all children of the Big Three, above even the others of the Seven. For a second Percy considered how the War could have gone, if they were just on the other side. What Gods would be able to stand up to them? 

“I disabled Talos,” Hepheastus said suddenly, “and anything like him. What happened to that girl will not repeat itself.” 

“Drew.” Percy said darkly, “Her name was Drew Tanaka. You should at least remember the name of the girl you killed.” 

“Drew Tanaka,” Hepheastus sounded out. “I won’t forget her. I won’t forget any of you, in what’s coming.” 

It sounded like a goodbye. It sounded final. Percy kept his eyes trained on the God as his dream faded apart. He woke back in the cave, before the sun rose. Night jasmine scented the cool air. He rose and shook out the lingering soreness from his shoulders. Percy found Calypso in her garden, tending to her flowers. She looked up to him with a sad smile that just about cracked his heart. 

“You are ready to leave then?” 

“I have to.” 

She nodded, tears turning her eyes to silver, “then come, I will show you the way.” 

Calypso led him to the beach, where a simple raft awaited. The raft was a ten-foot square of logs lashed together with a pole for a mast and a simple white linen sail. It didn’t look like it would be very seaworthy, or lakeworthy. But Percy knew it would hold, and even if it didn’t he was the son of Poseidon. 

“This will take you wherever you desire,” Calypso promised. “It is quite safe.”

Percy nodded, “thank you Calypso, I know what this costs you.” 

She lowered her head into a bow and Percy set off. He watched her figure on the beach grow smaller and smaller until he couldn’t see her anymore. And then the Island itself blinked out of sight, leaving just him in the middle of the sea, surrounded by dawn's dim light. 

“Camp Half blood,” Percy said, “I need to go home.” 

Hours later his raft washed up on the beach of Camp Half Blood. How that worked out, Percy had no idea. Some kind of time and space magic that he didn’t want to ponder for too long. All he knew was that at some point the lake water just changed to salt water. The familiar shoreline of Long Island appeared up ahead, and a couple of friendly great white sharks surfaced and steered him toward the beach. The camp seemed deserted. It was the middle of the day, but the archery range was empty, there was no one in the strawberry fields and he didn’t hear any fighting from the Arena. 

Oh shit my funeral. 

Percy launched himself off the raft and ran up the sandy beach. Annabeth was going to kill him. He could hear Chiron speaking and winced as the words became clear. 

“—assume he is dead,” Chiron said. “After so long a silence, it is unlikely our prayers will be answered.”

Percy skid to a stop at the top of the Amphitheater. Nobody noticed him. They were all facing forward, to the pyre that had been sat up. Annabeth lounged at the very front, but Percy could see the tension that lined her frame. He was too out of breath to shout, but a good New Yorker could always whistle. The sound split the air, causing demigods to flinch. Everyone whirled around, and Percy heard shouts of shock as they realized who he was. He stomped down the stairs and stopped at Chirons side, leaning over to prop his hands on his knees. He was definitely not in top form. 

“Not- not dead!” he rasped. 

“No you’re not dead. But you’re a Gods dammed idiot!” Annabeth snapped. 

Percy shoved himself upright, half expecting to be judo flipped again. Instead Annabeth pulled him into a tight hug that made his newly healed ribs ache. Piper slammed against his side with a loud laugh, Leo only moments behind. He could hear campers giving sighs of relief, and a few happy calls of his name. Even Clarisse let out a laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. Percy finally managed to suck in a breath when Annabeth stopped trying to squeeze his lungs out of his mouth. She didn’t pull back far, just enough to run her hands across his shoulders and look for any injuries. She didn’t have to say anything for him to see her thoughts in her storm cloud eyes. 

“Perhaps we should discuss this somewhere more private, shall we? The rest of you, back to your normal activities!” Chiron said. 

He didn’t wait for them to protest before he scooped up Annabeth and Percy and slung them onto his back. Chiron galloped out of the Amphitheater and up to the Big House. Percy sat crosslegged on the couch and tucked Annabeth under his arm. She held onto his wrist with bruising force as he told them what happened. This time he didn’t bother to leave out the fact that he was on Calypso’s Island. Percy didn’t understand why it had still taken him two weeks when he was only there for what felt like two days, unlike last time when he was there for an extended amount of time. But it did and he couldn’t change that. 

“So what now?” Chiron asked. 

“We had an idea,” Annabeth said. 

She quickly explained how they were going to use Rachel Elizabeth Dare to lead the way through the Labyrinth. Chrion nodded slowly, stroking through his beard. 

“It’s been done before. I’m proud of you for thinking of the idea.” 

Annabeth nodded, a faint smile playing around her mouth. Percy pulled his hand free from her grasp and started threading curls around her hair. He didn’t really care how the rest of the conversation went. He let it fade into a background of comforting noise. He wanted to sleep in his bed with Annabeth and get some actual good rest. No Godly dreams, no prophetic dreams, just sleep. Finally Annabeth got up and Percy rose with her, checking back into reality. Chrion gave him a fond smile like he knew just how far away Percy's brain was but he didn’t say anything. They stepped back out of the Big House and Percy looked over the camp. 

“I need to get my siblings ready for when I’m gone, we don’t have much time now,” Annabeth said. 

Percy was about to respond, but he froze for a second. The ripples… that strange feeling he had been having since his odd dream in the Labyrinth. The ripples had reached the edge of the water and were starting to rebound inwards. He physically shook off the feeling and shot Annabeth a strained smile. 

“I know. Come find me when you’re done.” 

Annabeth nodded and went on her toes to give him a kiss. Percy watched her jog away, trying to ignore his unease. It was okay, they knew what was coming, he could make things better. It was the mantra he repeated to himself over and over again but… it fell flat. Percy sighed to himself. Seeing his own funeral got him acting maudlin. He needed to kick his body into motion to put himself to rights. 

Percy made his way to the Arena. He stopped short at the sight of Mrs. O’Leary lying in the middle of the sand with her paws over her eyes. He’d forgotten that Quintus left her behind when he stole back into the Labyrinth. Percy hopped into the sand and moved over to her. She picked her head up out from under her paws, tail slowly starting to wag. Percy sat down and patted his knees. She plopped her massive head in his lap and let out a doggy sigh. 

“You’re lucky she didn’t try to eat you,” a gruff voice grumbled. 

Percy looked over to Clarisse. She was in full armor, Lamar held over her shoulder. He winced a little at the sight of the deep dark circles under her eyes and the way she was trying to cover a limp. Clarisse probably put the most work into defending the Camp, and her boyfriend was currently in the Medics tent completely unresponsive. Percy and Annabeth dealt with their insane amount of dangerous shit, but they were constantly gone. And only able to do so because they could trust Clarisse to protect their home so they had something to come back to. 

“How’re you doing?” he asked carefully. 

Clarisse grunted, “came here to practice yesterday, damn dog nearly chewed me up.” 

Clarisse paced a circle around the arena. When she came to the nearest dummy, she attacked viciously, chopping its head off with a single blow and driving her sword through its guts. She pulled the sword out and kept walking. She picked up a javelin and threw it across the arena. It nailed a dummy straight between the eyeholes of its helmet. He sighed and scratched Mrs. O’Learys ears one more time before he shoved himself upright. 

“Come on. Let's spar, then we can talk about it.” Clarisse sneered at him and Percy held his hands up, “you know you’ll feel better if you do.” 

“I’ve already got the Mclean girl after me, I don’t need you too Jackson.” 

He huffed, “Piper focuses on emotions. I’ll let you give me bruises.” 

The corner of her mouth kicked up a little, “you’ll let me?” 

Oh he was going to regret that. Percy just pulled out Riptide and set his shoulders. Might as well make his regrets worth his time he supposed. 

“Sure. if you think you can.” 

Clarisse smirked. 

Safe to say… Percy did not win. Clarisse was in full battle armor, and had all of that pent up energy keeping her hits hard and her defense sharp. Percy on the other hand was still more sore than he thought he would be and had exhaustion pulling at his bones. She took pity on him after he tapped out the second time and planted a boot in his chest to keep him from getting up. Percy grumbled and tried to squirm away but the boot was quickly replaced by Mrs. O’Learys head. Clarisse flopped to sit beside him and pulled off her helmet, shaking out her sweaty short hair. 

“I kissed Silena Beauregard!” Clarisse burst out after they had been sitting for a little while. 

Percy tried his hardest to keep a straight face as he answered, “oh thats… nice. I’m glad you’re accepting yourself Clarisse.” 

She glared at him, whole face going red, “I fucking hate you puddles.” 

He broke into helpless giggles, hiding his smile in Mrs. O’Learys ear, “all jokes aside though I am happy for you. You two would be cute together.” 

But she didn’t smile back. Instead Clarisse pulled her knees up into her chest and hid her face away. Percy pushed Mrs. O’Learys head down and sat up as well, concern filling him. 

“What’s wrong I thought you’d be happy?” 

“I don’t even know if she likes girls!” Clarisse cried, “I barely knew for sure that I do! And she’s dating Beckendorf, what if he gets pissed at me?” 

Okay this was above Percy's pay grade. The whole coming out thing was… not what he did. Percy didn’t ever actually do that himself, he just always sort of knew and moved on. 

“We’re Greeks,” he said gently, “I don’t think many of us are strictly straight. Do you want me to come with you to talk to them? I don’t think it will be that big of a deal, but I’m willing to be emotional support.” 

“I’m just so afraid that I ruined our friendship. It was stupid, she looked so pretty in her new armor that I just reacted. In front of everyone!” 

Percy winced. That had to have sucked. And if Silena was trying on new armor that meant she was probably in the forges, so Beckendorf was probably there. If there was an issue there wouldn’t be any spinning it in a different direction. 

“You can’t hide forever. C’mon, I’ll go with you.”

Clarisse shook her head. She rose to her feet and clipped her helmet to her belt before setting her shoulders like she was getting ready to fight. For just a moment Percy could see the resemblance between her and Frank in the way they moved. 

“No. I’ll do it alone. Just… pray for me I guess.” she sighed. 

Percy nodded and watched her go. He didn’t pray, not when he had been able to smell perfume roses since Clarisse sat down next to him. He was well aware who listened in on their conversation. 

“You’ve already lost one daughter running from you,” he said quietly, “don’t lose another.” 

Percy shoved himself up out of the sand. The smell of roses faded like he’d imagined it the whole time. Mrs. O’Leary woofed and followed him out of the arena. Percy needed to find Piper… he had some gossip to dish. 

Chapter Text

That night Percy relaxed in a tangle of limbs. He had Annabeth stretched out over his chest, fingers still idly tracing his remaining green and yellow bruises. Piper was curled up next to him with one leg thrown across his waist and she was using Leo and a stuffed animal while also keeping him from falling off the bed. The bunks at Camp Half Blood were not meant to hold four mostly grown half bloods. There were a lot of knees and elbows in unfortunate places. 

Next to the bed was a shimmering Iris Message of the other half of their group in pretty much the same tangle of limbs. Hazel starfished out in the center of them, with Jason and Nico on each side of her. Frank was currently a lop eared bunny sleeping in the hollow of Nico’s throat. Apparently Reyna usually joined them (and wasn’t that some fun gossip of Jason finally managing to pull her in) but she was currently out on a quest of her own. (read visiting her sister and not wanting people to know) he was the last one awake, but his mind just wouldn’t shut off. 

Percy was worried about Tyson and Grover. No one had heard from them since they split up in the Labyrinth. Percy knew that they would be okay by the time they found them but that didn’t stop the anxiety squirming through his stomach. He leaned his head back against the pillow to look out the window. He watched the clouds drift by for a while until he managed to fall asleep. Percy hoped that his empathy link with Grover would kick in and he could dream of him but it didn’t. Instead he dreamed of fucking Daedalus again. He sneered his way through that dream, and hid a smirk watching Luke struggle. 

The next morning dawned bright and early. Percy was only half awake as Leo and Piper helped them get their armor back on and made sure that their packs were stocked. He dropped a kiss on Piper's cheek and pulled Leo into a hug before stumbling outside. Annabeth joined him a moment later, a line of soot on her jaw. Percy rubbed it off for her as they made their way to the camp van. Argus drove them in the early morning silence. It was Saturday so the traffic was awful, but a little over an hour later they pulled to a stop outside his moms apartment. Percy and Annabeth made their way up and let themselves in. 

Percy was immediately pulled into a tight hug from his mom, “oh! I know you said that you would be okay but I was still so worried when Annabeth said they couldn't find you!” she said into his hair. 

Percy squeezed her back, laughing softly. As soon as he was released Annabeth was next. They really needed to bring the others by so that Sally could pour all of her excess love onto them. They got herded into the kitchen, heaping piles of breakfast set in front of them. Percy began shoving his eggs down his throat while Annabeth told Sally about the quest so far. It was nice to no longer have to hide most of what happened from his mother. They still did of course- the most deadly parts- but Sally knew that they were much older and more capable than they seemed. And as Percy stuffed his last piece of raw tuna in his mouth she turned to him with a serious look. 

“Are you headed to get Rachel now?” 

His mom liked Rachel. They had bonded over being able to see through the Mists and how that had affected their lives. Whereas Sally had kept silent about it until she had met Poseidon, Rachel had tried to convince her parents that what she was seeing was real. The medications that landed her did not stop her visions, but it did make her lose a large portion of her childhood. 

“Yeah,” he said around his mouthful of fish. 

Her mouth thinned just a tiny bit, “she knows what’s going to happen? To her specifically?” 

Percy didn’t really have to guess how she felt about it. About more children putting themselves into danger. But he had explained everything to Rachel. Multiple times. And she still decided that taking on the spirit of the Oracle was the best choice for her. Sally sighed and leaned forward to push Percy’s hair out of his face. Tears lined her kind dark eyes but she still smiled. 

“Be safe darling. Both of you,” she added with a stern look to Annabeth. 

“We will Mom,” he promised. 

Sally pressed a kiss to his forehead and rose to her feet, “be off then. Na ise kala”

May you be well. 

The Greek filled his ears like honey. Percy pulled his mom into a tight hug, Annabeth joining them. With one last muttered goodbye they left the safety of his mothers arms. Percy led the way down the stairs, Annabeth's fingers tangled within his own. They found Rachel just where he remembered, downtown and painted gold. But this time she was paused mid-motion in what he recognized as the ancient Greek method of warding off evil, and her green eyes were set into a harsh glare. She looked older than she should, shoulders pushed back and jaw lifted slightly. Annabeth stepped forward to drop a twenty into their collection of bills and rejoined him while they waited. 

After about ten minutes another kid stepped up beside Rachel, taking on a position on his knees with his hands folded in front of his chest. Rachel completed the motion to ward off evil and stepped down, eyes flickering over them. One gold painted brow rose a touch. Percy wondered what she was seeing, he didn’t feel any Gods or anything else nearby. Whatever it was she didn’t say anything as she led the way to a small coffee shop and ordered for them. Percy had no idea how she ordered their favorites without asking, but he wasn’t going to complain as he scooped nerds off of the top of his blue raspberry and fruit punch slush. Neither did Annabeth with her mintchip shake. Finally Rachel sighed a deep breath through her nose and turned to Annabeth. 

“Your choice is coming, I can see the threads wrapping around you like a noose.” 

Annabeth just nodded once, “when you play on the kind of scale that we are, hard choices are inevitable.” 

Percy’s fingers tightened around his drink. That… did not sound good. Rachel’s gaze settled on him and he swore he could feel the weight of it push down against his shoulders. She told him she was starting to have prophetic dreams even now, that the pigeons were whispering to her, that she heard countless Oracles hissed prophecies when there was nothing but silence. For a second he wondered what she saw wrapped around him. Slowly she reached out and dragged a single gold painted finger down the slope of his cheek. As if she was following the path of a tear. But Rachel didn’t say whatever she was thinking. Instead she rose to her feet and pulled out her iconic blue plastic hairbrush and began smoothing her hair back to tie it up. 

“Come on, time is running out.” 

Rachel did not lead them to the basement of her hotel this time around. Instead she led them a block or two over to one of those old half abandoned buildings that no one was ever sure was a thing or not. Right next to the front doors was the Delta symbol. Annabeth didn’t even touch it, she just crossed her arms and looked at it expectantly. A second later it glowed blue like it realized just who was standing in front of it. She sported a smug smirk as she gestured for Rachel to proceed them into the Labyrinth. It opened into what appeared to be an old mining tunnel. There were still pickaxes scattered across the stone. And a thick layer of shimmering dust. 

“Someone killed a lot of monsters down here,” Percy muttered. 

Ra chel nodded, “she was brilliant, the Daughter of the Sea. It took The Mares of Diomedes to finally put her down.” 

“The Daughter of the Sea?” Percy asked, “like me? A child of Poseidon?” 

Rachel shook her head, “Amphithere actually. So I guess you would be step-siblings.” 

Percy looked at the layer of Monster dust with new appreciation. He wished he knew her name. Maybe he would ask Amphitere the next time he spoke with her. They walked carefully on, footsteps near silent until the tunnel changed to gravel. Rachel led them, fingers hovering just above the wall to her right as they went. The tunnel narrowed and got shorter, until he was forced to bend his head forward to keep from scraping it. Percy’s hand stayed fisted around Riptide, the other tangled into the back of Annabeth's shirt. Above them they could hear muffled thudding and a bellowing roar. 

“The Arena?” Annabeth asked. 

Rachel nodded ahead of them, “you need to pass through here there is no way around it. But it will be okay, the bloodshed has not started yet.” 

You know, that didn’t really do anything for Percy’s nerves. And based on the way Annabeth's hand drifted down to her new knife he thought she agreed. But he trusted that Rachel was telling the truth. At least this time they didn’t have a monsterly escort. Rachel pushed open what seemed more like an attic hatch than a door and revealed what was waiting for them. 

The dirt floor was circular, just big enough that you could drive a car around the rim if you pulled it really tight. In the center of the arena, a fight was going on between a giant and a centaur. The centaur looked panicked. He was galloping around his enemy, using sword and shield, while the giant swung a javelin the size of a telephone pole and the crowd cheered. The first tier of seats was twelve feet above the arena floor. Plain stone benches wrapped all the way around, and every seat was full. There were giants, dracaenae, demigods, telkhines, and stranger things: bat-winged demons and creatures that seemed half human and half you name it—bird, reptile, insect, mammal.

But the creepiest things were the skulls. The arena was full of them. They ringed the edge of the railing. Three-foot-high piles of them decorated the steps between the benches. They grinned from pikes at the back of the stands and hung on chains from the ceiling like horrible chandeliers. Some of them looked very old—nothing but bleached-white bone. Others looked a lot fresher, with viscera still clinging to them. Stretching above it all was something that made his stomach turn. A great green banner, with a Trident standing tall from a pile of coral. The symbol of his father, held unfeelingly above careless violence. 

To the side of the banner, in the best seat of the house, was an old enemy. 

“ Luke” 

He was too far away to hear Annabeth's snarl, but Percy swore he made eye contact before turning to the Giant at his side. The giant next to Luke must’ve been fifteen feet tall, easy, and so wide he took up three seats. He wore only a loincloth, like a sumo wrestler. His skin was dark red and tattooed with blue wave designs. Antaeus. Percy’s teeth clenched as the ground shifted and rolled a tiny touch. Not enough for most of the monsters to notice, but enough so that his half brother's head jerked up suspiciously. Percy tossed himself over the side of the railing, the girls startled shouts following him down. He hit the ground and threw Telos in the same motion, skewering the fighting Giant before it could kill the Centaur. 

Silence filled the Arena as the attention of every Monster and Demigod focussed on him. Percy just smiled crookedly and flung his arms out from his sides. 

“Looks like a party, shame to put an end to it!” 

“Perseus,” Luke growled. 

“The son of Poseidon?” Antaeus asked. 

“A better son than you will ever be!” Percy yelled, Riptide forming in his hand. 

He leveled the blade directly at his half brother. For a second the silence continued. Then someone in the crowd started jeering. Then another, and another, and another, until the piles of skulls were shaking with the noise. But Percy did not drop his blade, or look away. He settled his weight firmer into the sand and took a steadying breath. His armor was a comforting weight and his necklace warmed briefly as Telos reappeared. 

“I am his favorite son!” Antaeus boomed. “Behold, my temple to the Earthshaker, built from the skulls of all those I’ve killed in his name! Your skull shall join them!”

It would be a good test, he supposed. Antaeus wasn’t just the son of Poseidon after all. His mother? Gaia. If Percy could kill him quickly he could guess about how a fight with the Primordial would go. Power built in his stomach, setting his bones to creaking. 

“Well son of Poseidon! You seem desperate to prove yourself. What weapon will you use?” 

“Just this,” Percy said, holding Riptide a little higher. “And myself of course.” 

Antaeus’ lips pulled back from his teeth. Percy wasn’t afraid. He had defeated the Giant when he was actually fifteen, doing so now would be easy. Antaeus waved his hand without looking away from him. The gates opened, and a dracaena slithered out. She had a trident in one hand and a weighted net in the other— classic gladiator style. Percy had trained against that combo for years. He didn’t wait for her to advance before he shifted a single foot forward through the sand. The ground bucked like a pissed off pegasus and the Dracaena fell over. He lopped her head off with a careless downswing before she had time to get up. 

“No!” Antaeus bellowed. “Too fast! You must wait for the kill. Only I give that order!”

Percy just shrugged. The gates opened again, and this time a young warrior came out. He was physically a little older than Percy, about sixteen. He had glossy black hair, and his left eye was covered with an eye patch. He was thin and wiry so his Greek armor hung on him loosely. He stabbed his sword into the dirt, adjusted his shield straps, and pulled on his horsehair helmet. 

“Hello Ethan,” Percy said quietly. 

For a second the boy seemed uneasy, but he shook it off quickly enough. He lunged forward, sword held low. Percy blocked the strike aimed for his knees and ducked under the off handed blow from the shield meant to knock him off balance. Ethan was decent, but he had nothing compared to fighting someone as fast as Nico or as skilled as Luke. Percy gave it forty five seconds. He twisted around another few blows, only meeting one strike with Riptide in a shower of sparks. Monsters jeered around them, calling for blood. Ethan kept glancing over at them, nerves making sweat drip down the side of his face. Percy blew out a low breath and all of his sweat iced over, making Ethan yelp and stumble. He used the opening to land the boy flat on his back, Percy’s booted heel pressed against his throat. 

“Get it over with,” Ethan groaned, tears sliding down his temple. 

Percy ignored Antaeus giving the thumbs down and the roaring of the crowd. Instead he crouched down to look Ethan in the face. His reflection in the boy's eye was almost enough to make him draw away. But he didn’t. Instead he looked down his nose at the traitorous halfblood with a sneer. 

“I only give one chance, and this is yours,” he said quietly, “fight me again and I will ensure there is nothing left of you to burn.” 

Percy rose to his feet and turned his back on the boy. 

“No one dishonors the games!” Antaeus bellowed. “Your heads shall both be tributes to Poseidon!”

Percy raised his brows and scratched the back of his head like he was confused, “if you’re fathers favorite child then come down here and fight me yourself! Unless you’re scared.” 

The monsters grumbled in the stands. Antaeus looked around, and apparently realized he had no choice. He couldn’t say no without looking like a coward.

“I am the greatest wrestler in the world, boy,” he warned. “I have been wrestling since the first pankration!”

Percy fought down a smirk, “to the death, just the way I like it.” 

Was his ego getting a little too big? He risked a glance over to a glaring Annabeth and winced. Welp. in for a penny in for a pound. He winked and blew her a kiss before turning back to Antaeus. 

He pointed his sword to Antaeus, “winner takes it all! No holds barred, battle to the death. I win and everyone here goes free. Swear it upon Styx!” 

The Goddess perked up, the ambient air temperature dropping around him. 

Antaeus laughed. “This shouldn’t take long. I swear to your terms!”

The Goddess cackled like a flock of crows. As Antaeus jumped down into the Arena Percy swore he could see a figure cloaked in black waters leaning against the wall behind Luke. Antaeus cracked his knuckles. He grinned, and Percy saw that even his teeth were etched in wave patterns, which must’ve made brushing after meals a real pain. He was cocky. But then again so was Percy. But he already knew the Giants' weakness. So when Antaeus charged Percy just twisted around him and brought Riptide down hard through the back of his thigh. Antaeus bellowed in pain as sand spilled from the slice. Before it could start to harden and heal him Percy hauled back and kicked him as hard as he could. It was enough to knock the giant into the sand flat on his face. 

Percy pulled Telos free and shoved it through the back of the Giants neck. He gurgled some awful sounding noise and twitched like a pinned spider. Percy turned on his heel and sprinted for the sidewall of the Arena. He launched himself upright and pulled himself up. He bared his exaggerated teeth at the startled demigod in front of him and launched himself backwards to grab one of the dangling chains. He pulled himself upright with raw shoulder strength. A glance down showed Antaeus finally managing to pick himself up and rip Telos free. He whistled to get the Giants attention. Percy wrapped the chain around one of his legs and swung to grab ahold of another one. 

“Get down here you coward!” 

He flipped the Giant off. Antaeus roared angrily and jumped to swat at him. He managed to jump and grab a chain with one hand, but Antaeus was too heavy to pull himself up like that. He needed a little help. Percy swung the spare chain he’d grabbed, using the hook on the end like a Meteor of Mars. It whistled through the air before it sank deep into Antaeus’ shoulder. Antaeus gave a surprisingly high pitched shriek. He dangled from the hook, slowly sliding down as it ripped through his shoulder. Percy swung forward, Riptide held firmly in his hand. The point of the blade found a lovely new home in Antaeus’ eye. It punched through the back of his head with a slick crunching noise. Antaeus jerked once, twice, before he went still. Slowly he crumbled from the bottom down into black sand. 

Percy dropped into the middle of the sand and looked up to a stunned Luke. Styx nodded from behind Luke and disappeared, taking the remains with Her. Absolute silence reigned. Every being in the crowd was just gaping at him. 

“Percy! Come on!” Rachel yelled. 

Percy bowed to Luke and bolted. Now that he wasn’t distracted he realized that there were hundreds of glowing threads stretching everywhere across the Arena like a net. He scrambled up the side of the Arena again, taking Rachel's hand as she hauled him over the side. The glowing threads all led back to Annabeth who had them looped around her fingers. As soon as they drew level with her side she yanked them taunt like she was pulling on reins. Cracks spread away from her and the stone began to crumble. Rachel grabbed her by the shoulder and shoved them back through the hatch. They stumbled to a run with the sound of screams and roars behind them. They ran as fast as they could, covering unknown miles like nothing. Rachel seemed to know exactly where she was going. She whipped around corners and didn’t even hesitate at crossroads. Once she said, “Duck!” and they all crouched as a huge ax swung over their heads. Then they kept going as if nothing had happened.

When they finally slowed to a stop all three of them were heaving in massive breaths. Percy had been smelling blood for the whole run and he was finally able to find the source. Red was pouring off of Annabeth's hands, everywhere the threads had been looped around her fingers sliced open as if they were razor wire. Percy pulled a ribbon of water from his water bottle and carefully started rinsing the blood away. Annabeth hissed in pain, lip caught between her teeth. Rachel carefully dripped a little ambrosia over the wounds. They didn’t heal how they should, but they stopped bleeding. 

“Wha-” 

“Magic has consequences,” Annabeth said, “especially something so great and old as the Labyrinth.” 

“You controlled the Labyrinth?” he breathed. 

Annabeth nodded. Percy didn’t have any other response to that other than pulling her in for a kiss. What else could he do? His girlfriend was a fucking wonder. Annabeth had turned pink when he pulled away. Rachel scoffed and started wrapping Annabeth's hands with bandages. They settled right in the room they ended up in. Rachel thought they could reach the heart of the Labyrinth within a few hours after they got some rest. She volunteered to take first watch, with Annabeth taking second and Percy taking last. He drifted off with his head in Annabeth's lap listening to them talk quietly. 

Annabeth woke him for his watch. In the dim light of their almost dead fire she looked haunted. 

“What's wrong?” he asked. 

Annabeth shook her head once but then she sighed, “Percy… I’m worried.” 

“You’re not telling me everything,” he said flatly. 

Annabeth nodded, “the new prophecy… what I’ve been dreaming of…” 

Percy took her hands within his own, careful of her injuries. Tears welled and spilled over, washing clean lines down her cheeks. She leaned forward to press their foreheads together. 

“Percy. We’ve been trying to change our fates. We are playing chess, with our fellow demigods as the pieces. We are going to lose more than a few pawns. People… people are going to die and it will be on us.” 

“No.” Percy said firmly. Annabeth's stormcloud eyes peeled open to look at him with confusion, “we are bargaining with fate. People may die, but it is not our fault. We are doing everything again to keep people alive. What we know, what we’ve changed, it will all be for the better. We have to believe that. If we lose hope we lose everything.” 

A slow smile pulled at her face, “I love you,” she said with a great well of emotion laced into every word, “thank you.” 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, “get some rest beloved.” 

She curled up beside him, one hand fisted around the hem of his shirt. Nothing came for them for the rest of the watch and he woke the girls after a few hours. They ate a breakfast of granola bars and water before rising. Percy and Annabeth pulled back on their armor and they were ready to go. Rachel led them without any more issues. The Labyrinth transitioned from the ancient rough hewn stone to sleek polished marble. Overhead halogens glowed brightly, casting them into stark relief. Percy commanded a small ball of water to scrub at each of them to try and clean up as much as possible. They reached a set of steel double doors, inscribed with the Delta right at eye level. Annabeth pressed the flat of her palm against it and the door hissed open. 

The first thing that struck him was the daylight—blazing sun coming through giant windows. Not the kind of thing you expect in the heart of a dungeon. The workshop was like an artist’s studio, with thirty-foot ceilings and industrial lighting, polished stone floors, and workbenches along with windows. A spiral staircase led up to a second-story loft. Half a dozen easels displayed hand-drawn diagrams for buildings and machines that looked like Leonardo da Vinci sketches. Several laptop computers were scattered around on the tables. Glass jars of green oil—Greek fire—lined one shelf. There were inventions, too—weird metal machines Percy couldn’t make sense of. One was a bronze chair with a bunch of electrical wires attached to it, like some kind of torture device. In another corner stood a giant metal egg about the size of a man. There was a grandfather clock that appeared to be made entirely of glass, so you could see all the gears turning. And hanging on the wall were several sets of bronze and silver wings. 

“Afternoon,” a surprisingly casual voice said. 

Standing on the spiral staircase above them, with his weapon drawn, was their missing sword master Quintus. Annabeth's rope blade fell into her hand, the feather etched onto it growing nearly as bright as the sunlight. Quintus’ eyes fell to it and Percy could see the color drain out of his face. 

“What is that?” he hissed. 

“A blade of Athena, made by a son of Poseidon,” Annabeth said smugly, “its name is Alithea.” 

“Truth.” Quintus said. 

Annabeth hummed in agreement, “it senses liars. I wonder why it would glow for you Quintus.” 

“He’s not human.” Rachel said helpfully. 

Percy wondered what he looked like to her. She didn’t seem that uncomfortable, but she was absolutely distracted by the various diagrams around them. 

“This is my fifth body.” The swordsman held out his forearm. He pressed his elbow and part of his wrist popped open—a rectangular hatch in his skin. Underneath, bronze gears whirred. Wires glowed.

“Automaton,” Annabeth said. 

“Yes I-” 

“Don’t care!” Percy said brightly. 

Quintus’ head snapped over to him, annoyance making his face crease. Percy just shrugged. He didn’t feel like listening to the whole back story. Percy pulled Telos free and rested his chin on the butt of the weapon. Quintus scowled heavily at his before visibly steeling himself and turning back to Annabeth. 

“You are my sister child, surely you know of our mothers harsh demands!” 

Annabeth snorted sardonically, “more than you could understand. But you can not blame Athena for the decisions you made.” 

“Athena drove me to this!” Quintus gestured to all of his workshop angrily, “with my drive and my ambition I could have been the greatest inventor of all time. But instead greedy men took advantage of me. I lost my son and our mother did nothing.” 

“Oh boo hoo,” Percy scoffed, “the death of Icarus is and always has been a tragedy. But you allowed that to warp you into a monster. Just ask your nephew.” 

Quintus audibly snarled. Percy leveled him with his coldest and darkest look, practically daring him to try something. They knew that Luke already had the string. But they needed to convince Quintus to bring the Labyrinth down one way or another. Percy thought that a celestial bronze blade through the chest would do the trick. 

“Kronos promised me freedom,” Quintus said. “Once Hades is overthrown, he will set me over the Underworld. I will reclaim my son Icarus. I will make things right with poor young Perdix. I will see Minos’s soul cast into Tartarus, where it cannot bother me again. And I will no longer have to run from death.”

“He’s stalling,” Rachel said serenely, “Luke's forces are marching for us and Daedalus wants to hand you over. He thinks that it will buy him favor with the Titan.” 

“I-” 

Annabeth pushed over an easel. Architectural drawing scattered across the floor. “I used to respect you. You were my hero! You—you built amazing things. You solved problems. Now…I don’t know what you are. Children of Athena are supposed to be wise, not just clever. Maybe you are just a machine. You should have died two thousand years ago.” She scrubbed angry tears off of her face before pointing Alithea at him, “You are a disgrace.” 

Instead of getting mad, Daedalus hung his head. “You should go warn your camp. Now that Luke has the string—”

“We will,” Percy said, “and we will prepare for War. But first,” he cocked his head slightly, unholy pressure building in his chest, “I want you to remember their faces, Daedalus. The children that you taught this summer, how hard we trained. I want you to remember their names, their stories. When they die I want you to know that you lead to this.” 

The feeling of being watched skittered across his skin. Percy didn’t have to look at how Annabeth jerked to attention to know that Athena’s presence was there. She had spoken their mothers name for a reason after all. Quintus went pale, gray eyes darting to the corners as if the Goddess would be standing in plain sight. 

“We need to go,” Rachel said. 

Percy nodded and turned away from the inventor. Rachel had already pulled three sets of wings down and had hers strapped on. Percy and Annabeth were quick to follow. He took the time to glance once more at Quintus. The man was standing alone in the center of the workshop, staring at his slowly flexing hands as if he didn’t know who they belonged to. But then Annabeth was taking his hand and pulling him out of the window and all Percy had the brain power to focus on was not splattering on the ground. 

Chapter Text

After playing chicken with the God-King of the skies (it was a fucking cloudless day where the HADES did the lightning come from Zeus?!) They set down about a mile from the Workshop. The three teenagers started stripping off their metal wings before stuffing them into a trashcan. Hopefully those would end up getting repurposed somehow. Annabeth stepped away with the prism she normally carried in her bag to send a message to Chiron to warn him to prepare the campers. Percy and Rachel conned their way into getting a ride from a local drive with the grace of Rachel being who she was. 

They convinced poor Robert to drop them off at the closed down museum nearby, but at least this time Annabeth slipped him a fifty dollar bill. Percy wasn’t sure he wanted to think about where she kept getting random cash from. He didn’t think that they could pull cash from their old Lotus Casino cards but maybe he was wrong. As a broke kid from New York he felt both giddy and awkward. They headed back into the Labyrinth without any issues. Rachel tracked their path like a bloodhound, occasionally pointing to a certain skeleton and telling their story to pass the time. 

Rachel and Annabeth started talking about Rachels latest series of protests after a while. Rachel and Grover had become pen pals since christmas and made a whole network of peaceful protests for a variety of causes. He was too busy not paying attention to pay attention and ran smack into Rachel. They’d come to a crossroads and for the first time Rachel hesitated. Her pale face had paled even further, whites visible all around her eyes. Their tunnel continued on straight ahead but a new tunnel T’d off to the side. It was made of jagged obsidian and a breeze whistled through it like there was an opening nearby. The smell of eucalyptus was strong enough to make his stomach turn. 

“There’s something down that tunnel,” Rachel whispered, “something dark and dangerous.” 

“Luke,” Percy said at the same time as Annabeth saying “Kronos.” 

Rachel gave them worried looks, lip pulled between her teeth. Percy and Annabeth made eye contact. It wasn’t like they didn’t know what was happening. Theoretically they could continue on their way and not do anything stupid. But this was Percy. And he really wanted to watch the Titan of Time get nailed in the eye by a plastic brush. Annabeth sighed and rolled her eyes like she read every thought that flashed through his mind. She pulled him in by the collar of his breastplate to press a kiss against his mouth. 

“If you die I will drag you back to kill you again,” she muttered. 

Percy grinned crookedly and saluted her, “here goes nothing!” 

He turned and hurried through the tunnel. He had to be careful to not kick any of the obsidian shards and make noise. It didn’t take long for him to hear monsters muttering amongst themselves. He waited until they were out of earshot before continuing on his way. Once again he regretted the loss of Annabeths yankee cap to turn invisible with. Sure the ability was better used by her at will but ugh. It made him have to move very slowly and carefully. Percy ignored the sight of a few Telkhines and Ethan carefully dealing with Luke's blade and looked out over the city stretched at the base of Mount Tam. A slow vicious smile spread across his face at the sound of Atlas’ groaning. 

Percy dashed through a dark foyer and into the main hall. The floor shone like mahogany- pure black and yet full of light. Black marble statues lined the walls. He didn’t recognize the faces, but Percy knew he was looking at images of the Titans who’d ruled before the gods. At the end of the room, between two bronze braziers, was a dais. And on the dais, the golden sarcophagus. The room was silent except for the crackle of the fires. No guards. Nothing. Percy hefted Riptide in his hand and crept forward. The sarcophagus was just like he remembered. It was carved with elaborate scenes of death and destruction, pictures of the gods being trodden under chariots, temples and famous world landmarks being smashed and burned. The whole coffin gave off an aura of extreme cold, like he was walking into a freezer. Percy’s breath began to steam. 

He stood over the coffin. The lid was decorated even more intricately than the sides—with scenes of carnage and power. In the middle was an inscription carved in letters even older than Greek, a language of magic. He couldn’t read it, exactly, but Percy knew what it said: KRONOS, LORD OF TIME. His hand touched the lid and his fingertips turned blue. Frost gathered in fractal patterns down Riptide. The sound of footsteps reached his ears and Percy bared his teeth in a feral smile. He shoved the lid of the Sarcophagus to the floor with a massive clang. A yelp sounded from somewhere behind him and the footsteps turned into running. 

Percy looked down at Luke, hatred swirling in his stomach. He knew that it wouldn’t do anything, but he still brought Riptide down with as much force as he could muster. The blade clanged like a hollow metal bowl, sending painful shocks up his arms. His mouth pressed tighter even as his hand flashed out. He grabbed for Luke's wrist, intending to raise his arm and stab him in his mortal point. But something hit his shoulder. Immediately pain blossomed through him- burning like fire. He twisted around to blink at the arrow protruding from the back of his shoulder. Ethan stood in the doorway, bow already drawn again. Percy kinda forgot anyone could use a bow even if they weren’t an Apollo kid. 

Blood dripped down his arm until it fell into a steaming puddle onto the floor. Percy knew that he wasn’t going insane when he saw the golden shimmer in it. He smeared the blood with his heel when he turned. 

“Pledge boy!” one of the Telkines snapped, quivering behind Ethan. 

“Don’t,” Percy warned softly, “I told you. You only get one chance, do this and you will waste it.” 

Ethans jaw cocked up, his eyepatch mixing with the shadows, “I renounce the gods! What have they ever done for me? I will see them destroyed. I will serve Kronos.” 

The building rumbled. A wisp of blue light rose from the floor at Ethan Nakamura’s feet. It drifted toward the coffin and began to shimmer, like a cloud of pure energy. Then it descended on the sarcophagus. Luke sat bolt upright. His eyes opened, and they were no longer blue. One was still solid bronze from Annabeth's attack on the boat, and the other… It was golden, the same color as the coffin. The hole in his chest was gone. He was complete. He leaped out of the coffin with ease, and where his feet touched the floor, the marble froze like craters of ice. He looked at Ethan and the telekhines with those horrible eyes, as if he were a newborn baby, not sure what he was seeing. Then he looked at PErcy, and a smile of recognition crept across his mouth.

Percy smiled right back, every ounce of the immortal grace within his veins raging to life. Whatever was in him that has more than mortal burned like acid. Percy wondered if that was how Gods felt when Zeus forced them to submit. 

“This body was prepared well,” Kronos purred. 

It was Luke's voice but not. Something hissed sibilantly underneath, like talons against stone. It made the hairs on the back of Percy’s neck stand on end and his teeth to ache. Percy’s tongue forked in his mouth, physical changes forced upon a mostly human body. The light from the blazing torches ached in his suddenly much more sensitive eyes. One of Luke's light brows rose a touch. Percy just bared his exaggerated teeth. Kronos threw back his head and laughed. Percy saw Ethan collapse out of the corner of his eye. The Telkhines had been disintegrated. 

“Luke feared you,” Kronos said conversationally, “His jealousy and hatred was a good tool to hone him into a better weapon, for that I thank you.” 

Percy lunged, swinging Riptide low and then arching it up to try and get Lukes mortal point. Kronos blocked easily and darted backwards. Percy couldn’t risk letting either of them realize that he knew their weak point so he twisted to bring Riptide around in a brutal double handed blow on Luke’s other shoulder. The rebound of it nearly made his teeth crack. Kronos waved his hand lazily and Percy went flying through the air. He managed to control his fall enough to not land face first against a marble column but it was close. His stomach lurched as pressure leaked from him. The floor cracked under his feet. 

“Fascinating.” Kronos clenched his fist and time went syrupy around them, “you’re not the same noble Hero I expected. What are you?” 

Percy forced himself one agonizingly slow step forward, off hand reaching for Telos. Golden light blasted in ripples away from Kronos. The newly remade Backbiter materialized in Kronos’ hand. Kronos casually strolled forward, unaffected by his time warping abilities. He swept the Scythe forward and pressed the point of it under Percy’s chin. 

“Percy!” Rachel’s voice cracked through the air like shattering ice. 

Something small and blue whistled past him. Kronos shouted in shock, and the voice was Lukes. They slapped a hand against their already scarred eye and reared back. Kronos’ time manipulation faltered for a second. Percy ripped Telos from its chain and threw the trident before it was fully formed. 

He remembered having the curse of Achilies. His skin was invulnerable, yes, but he could still break his bones. And he remembered the Nemean Lion. Its hide could not be pierced, but it had its own weak points. So it was into the mouth of Luke that Percy aimed. He didn’t stick around to see how good his aim was. Rather he turned on his heel and took Rachel's hand in his own. Something else whistled over his head as they broke into a sprint. Annabeth stood at the doorway, Alithea’s rope wrapped around her wrist. Luke screamed. Stone shattered all around them, marble columns blasted away. As they ran the roof caved in behind them. 

“AFTER THEM!” the voice of Kronos roared over the sounds of crashing. 

They didn’t halt in their pell mell mad dash back into the relative safety of the Labyrinth. They ran until they physically couldn’t anymore. Rachel collapsed to one knee, heaving greedy breaths in. Annabeth had her arms wrapped around herself, tears in her eyes. Percy felt the warmth of Telos reappear on his chain and looked down. One of the tines had a drop of golden Ichor caught on its point. So his wild guess was right then. Good to know. He hoped that Luke liked his new wound. 

“That sucked,” Percy rasped. 

He’d returned to his natural form at least. He did not like taking on his ascended form outside of the water; it felt wrong. He turned to Rachel, mouth twitching with a poorly concealed smile. 

“You hit the Titan Lord in the eye with a blue plastic hairbrush.” 

She scowled and flipped him off before staggering to her feet. Rachel draped one arm around Annabeth's shoulders and started moving. Percy took his place at Annabeth's other side and clasped their hands together. It was… Percy just didn’t have that connection to Luke. Sure the boy had once been his mentor, and those old feelings of betrayal were still there but that was it. He didn’t have the odd brother/father/protector/weird-crush that Annabeth had. They made it thirty minutes before Percy froze in place. He could feel the ripples again. And ahead of them, just on the edge of Rachel's flashlight beam… 

A dirtied red rasta cap. 

“Perc-” 

He bolted. Percy couldn’t find a way to say what was different. But there was something yanking at his very bones, some kind of warning. Some kind of threat? A whine built and built right on the edge of his hearing. It got louder the longer he ran, until it was a screeching whistle. 

It was the sound of a far away dog's howl that finally clued him in. Not a whistle, but the whistle. The Stygian Ice Whistle. Percy forced his legs to move even faster. He couldn’t hear the girls yelling anymore and just had to hope that Rachel would be able to lead them both as easily as she ever had. He didn’t need her sight though. Like a leash the echoing ring of the whistle pulled him around corners and through cross roads. Water started dripping off the tunnel he found himself in, twisted roots swooping low around his head. Percy pulled the water to himself as he ran. It formed patterns across his light armor, or molded into ice armor in the areas that he didn’t have covered. And a circlet ringed around his brow- pure pitch black war thick like tar. Styx. 

The tunnel dropped out from under his feet unexpectedly, sending him careening into the darkness. Percy slid on his hip, thankful for the Ice that covered his leg. Not as good as a skateboard but it would do. Once he got to the bottom of the slope he popped upright and looked around wildly. A massive river cut through the cavern he found himself in, dropping from high in an unseen corner. Some kind of energy ran through the water, either a very powerful spirit or a tributary to one of the Rivers of the Underworld. And there, at the river bank, Tyson sat. Mrs. O’Leary bounded around him, whining loudly. And cradled in his arms was the limp form of Grover. 

Percy slid to a stop beside him, panting heavily. Tyson looked up to him, calf brown eye filled with tears. Grover was trembling like he was having a seizure, mouthing words silently. Behind his mostly closed lids his eyes were darting around in every direction. 

“What happened?” Percy growled. 

“So many things,” Tyson murmured. “Large snake. Large dogs. Men with swords. But then…we got close to here. Grover was excited. He ran. Then we reached this room, and he fell. Like this.”

Percy pressed his hand against Grovers shoulder and allowed his eyes to slide closed. He couldn’t really use the Empathy link between them the way Grover could but he could get the general idea. And whatever was going through Grovewrs mind was… well. It was the pealing of silver bells, the sound of leaves crunching under foot, the taste of spring dirt and the smell of wildfire. It was sunburnt shoulders and cool mud between his toes. 

“Pan,” he breathed. 

“The God of the Wild?” Rachel asked, sliding to a stop beside them. 

Annabeth was at her side and immediately dribbled a little water over Grovers face from her bottle. It made the Satyr snort a little but he didn’t wake fully. Percy peered around the cavern, taking in the glittering masses of crystals that grew. He extended his will to the river, a silent question thrumming through his power. Whatever energy was in the river answered readily and formed a long ribbon over their heads that spat icy water into Grovers face. He sat up with a startled snort, slit pupiled goat eyes wide. 

“Perc? Annabeth?” he muttered. 

“Hey it’s okay,” Annabeth soothed, helping Grover up, “you passed out, what do you remember?” 

“Pan! He’s close!” 

Grover leapt to his hooves like he was a sprightly kiddy goat. Then he fell like his body remembered he had been unconscious forty five seconds ago. It was probably a little mean but Percy couldn’t help his snort. He made up for it by hailing Grover upright and situating himself under Grovers shoulder to carry most of his weight. Percy cocked his brow at the river and it iced over thick enough for them to walk across. The energy running through it hissed angrily but didn’t buck his control until Tyson had cleared the other side as the last of them. Percy let his ice melt away and turned to the rest of the cavern. 

“I’m pretty sure this is the Carlsbad Caverns,” Annabeth said. 

“You think?” Grover asked. 

“They’re in New Mexico, that would explain last year,” she said. 

The further they walked the tenser Percy became. Not because something was wrong, but because of how powerful Pan’s aura was. He remembered it affecting him the last time, but nothing like now. He felt like he had just come crawling out of the dirt to face the world's first sunbeam. Energy crackled across his nerves as his weariness faded away. The syrupy thick shadows of the Caverns lightened to a bare gloom as his eyes changed. 

“Brother?” Tyson squeaked when Percy glanced over. 

Rachel cocked her head slightly, “oh do you actually look like that now?” 

“Now?” he asked. 

“I always see the predator underneath,” she hummed lightly. 

Tyson was looking at him like he didn’t know who Percy was. Tyson jumped a little when Annabeth pressed a gentle hand on his arm. 

“It’s okay big guy, we’ll explain later all right?” 

“Okay Annie,” Tyson said. 

Percy wasn’t really paying attention to their interaction though. He was watching Rachel. Who was looking at Tyson like he was the last piece of a puzzle that just wouldn’t fit into the open spot. But after a moment she shook her head and scraped her frizzy baby hairs out of her face and started leading the way again. Strange plants began to pop up around them, loaning the air an almost overwhelming floral scent. Annabeth excitedly pointed out a few extinct species, and helped Grover gather a seed or bit of pollen from them. They stepped through an archway made fully of gems shaped as various plants and stopped dead in their tracks. 

“Holy Gods,” Annabeth breathed. 

The walls glittered with crystals—red, green, and blue. In the strange light, beautiful plants grew—giant orchids, star-shaped flowers, vines bursting with orange and purple berries that crept among the crystals. The cave floor was covered with green moss. Overhead, the ceiling was higher than a cathedral, sparkling like a galaxy of stars. In the center of the cave stood a Roman-style bed, gilded wood shaped like a curly U, with velvet cushions. Animals lounged around it—but they were animals that shouldn’t have been alive. There was a dodo bird, something that looked like a cross between a wolf and a tiger, a huge rodent like the mother of all guinea pigs, and roaming behind the bed, picking berries with its trunk, was a wooly mammoth. 

On the bed lay an old Satyr. He was propped up by thick pillows that helped Him sit mostly upright. He watched them as they approached, His eyes as blue as the sky. His curly hair was white and so was His pointed beard. Even the goat fur on His legs was frosted with gray. His horns were enormous— glossy brown and curved. There was no way He could’ve hidden those under a hat the way Grover did. Around His neck hung a set of reed pipes. Grover pulled away from Percy to fall to his knees at the side of the bed, one trembling hand reaching out like he couldn’t believe his eyes. Pan took his hand within one of His own and smiled kindly. Percy sank to one knee a few feet away, hand fisted over his heart. Annabeth joined him while Rachel and Tyson stood behind them. 

“Grover, my beloved child,” Pan said in a trembling voice. 

“Lord Pan,” Grover gasped. 

“I’ve been waiting for you,” Pan said. 

“I… I got lost,” Grover said. 

It sounded like he was on the edge of tears. Percy wouldn’t blame him if he was. This moment was one that Satyrs had been waiting for since Pan went away thousands of years ago. Pan laughed. It was a wonderful sound, like the first breeze of springtime, filling the whole cavern with hope. The tiger-wolf sighed and rested his head on the God’s knee. The dodo bird pecked affectionately at the God’s hooves, making a strange sound in the back of its bill. But Pan looked exhausted, and His form wavered as if He didn’t have the strength to keep it up. Pan looked over Grovers head at them and smiled. 

“Ah, the Sea Son and Wisdom's Daughter. Even here I have heard of you.” 

“We are honored,” Annabeth said for both of them. 

“My lord,” Grover said, “please, you must come back with me! The Elders will never believe it! They’ll be overjoyed! You can save the wild!”

Pan placed His hand on Govers cheek, “do you like my resting place little one?” He asked. 

“It is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen,” Grover professed. 

“I am glad you like it, dear,” Pan said. “It is one of the last wild places. My realm above is gone, I’m afraid. Only pockets remain. Tiny pieces of life. This one shall stay undisturbed…for a little longer.”

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Grover said weakly. 

Pan gently cuffed him under the chin, “you are so young and good, I do think I’ve chosen well.” 

“Chosen my Lord?” 

Pan’s image flickered, momentarily turning to a tangle of Ivy. The giant guinea pig scuttled under the bed with a terrified squeal. The wooly mammoth grunted nervously. Dede the dodo stuck her head under her wing. Then Pan re-formed. Grover made a whimpery kind of goatish noise and leaned in closer. 

“I have slept many eons,” the God said forlornly. “My dreams have been dark. I wake fitfully, and each time my waking is shorter. Now we are near the end.”

“What?” Grover cried. “But no! You’re right here!”

“My dear satyr,” Pan said. “I tried to tell the world, two thousand years ago. I announced it to Lysas, a satyr very much like you. he lived in Ephesos, and he tried to spread the word.”

Grover shook his head rapidly, “No! Lysas was a Traitor to us. Or he misunderstood!” 

“Your kind never believed it,” Pan said. “You sweet, stubborn satyrs refused to accept my passing. And I love you for that, but you only delayed the inevitable. You only prolonged my long, painful passing, my dark twilight sleep. It must end.”

Percy could sense the tears falling from Grovers eyes. He blinked his own away rapidly. 

“No! P-please. Lord Pan, you can’t” 

“Dear Grover,” Pan said. “You must accept the truth. This is my Fading. I have waited all of this time only for you. That is why I need you to carry a message. You must go back to the council. You must tell the satyrs, and the dryads, and the other spirits of nature, that the great god Pan is dead. Tell them of my passing. Because they must stop waiting for me to save them. I cannot. The only salvation you must make yourself. Each of you must—”

Pan broke off to flicker again. This time the whole cavern shuddered and shards of crystals rained down on their heads. Percy froze the water clinging to the walls in a desperate attempt to strengthen them for just a while longer. Pan reformed panting. 

“Grover, you must take on my Blessing.” 

“But… No!” Grover cried. 

“Be strong,” Pan said. “You have found me. And now you must release me. You must carry on my spirit. It can no longer be carried by a god. It must be taken up by all of you.”

Pan cast His eyes over all of them. Percy nodded. He heard Rachel and Tyson agree audibly. 

Finally he turned back toward Grover. “My dear satyr,” Pan said kindly, “will you carry my message?”

“I—I can’t.”

“You can,” Pan said. “You are the strongest and the bravest. Your heart is true. You have believed in me more than anyone ever has, which is why you must bring the message, and why you must be the first to release me.”

“I don’t want to.”

Pan smiled a little. “You can. You must.” 

Grover sobbed wetly but he nodded, “Great Lord Pan, God of the Wilds and Beloved of the Satyrs… I release you.” 

Pan smiled. “Thank you, dear satyr. My final blessing.”

He closed His eyes, and the God dissolved. White mist divided into wisps of energy, but this kind of energy wasn’t anything rotten like when Ethan had declared for Kronos. It filled the room. A curl of smoke went straight into his mouth, and Grover’s and the others. It tasted like chewing basil leaves fresh from the plant. Percy inhaled it and held his breath, relishing in the burning of his lungs. Grover was surrounded by the mist. It was thick enough that Percy could barely see the Satyr. The crystals dimmed around them. The animals gave them a sad look. Dede the dodo sighed. Then they all turned gray and crumbled to dust. The vines withered. And they were alone in a dark cave, with an empty bed. It started shaking, only held up by Percy’s ice. 

“Out, out!” Rachel ordered, shoving Tyson ahead of her. 

Percy and Annabeth scrambled to their feet and followed. Percy had to reach into the mist to grab Grovers hand to pull him out as well. Behind them the cave collapsed in on itself with a sigh like a tired old man finally sitting down. They all glanced at each other as the last of the mist was absorbed into Grover. Percy didn’t feel any different. Except hungry. He was very hungry. Grover sat down right where he stood, head between his knees. Percy sighed through his nose and sat next to him, pulling the Satyr under his arm and rubbing at his back. 

“He’s gone,” Grover whispered. 

Percy shuddered. The feeling of the ripples rebounding at him paired with those words… he forced his mind to focus on the present moment rather than worrying about what could be coming. Grover peered over at him with one dark sad eye. Percy managed a wobbly half smile. Grover shook his head and rose to his feet. He accepted his Rasta Cap from Annabeth and shoved it on his head. 

“We need to get to Camp. I need to speak to the Elders.” 

Distance was shorter in the Labyrinth, but still by the time they climbed out onto a street not far from one of the vendor markets his mom like Percy felt like they really had run all the way from New Mexico. He didn’t know what felt less real, the city or watching Pan Fade. Rachel lead them into an Alley where Percy could get a nice echo. He whistled loudly, five times in a row. A few minutes of silence later they could hear wingbeats. 

“Oh!” Rachel gasped with delight at the sight of the Pegasi. 

Boss! Blackjack whinnied, you survived!  

“I’m good like that,” Percy joked, “listen guys, we need a ride back to Camp.” 

The adrenaline dump of knowing battle was coming started to flood his veins. Percy drew Rachel into a tight hug before she jogged away. He turned back to the others, taking in their sweaty faces. Annabeth gave him a grim nod, storm cloud eyes dark. They knew what was coming. 

“Load up guys, we need to get to camp.” 

They each took their seats on one of the Pegasai. Poor Gyro complained about carrying Tyson but managed to get off the ground. They sailed over the city, the sun cooking their shoulders. Percy started readying himself for the fight, sliding his mind into something darker and colder. Something more ready to do what needed to be done. Black water ringed around his fingers, it’s touch icy and comforting. They landed in the middle of the cabin area and were immediately met by Chiron, the pot bellied satyr Silenus, and a couple of Apollo cabin archers.

Annabeth quickly began explaining everything they had learned. Chiron nodded along, seeming to age in front of Percy's eyes. Or maybe it was sorrow that lined his face. Percy thought everyone knew that they would be losing someone soon. He could feel it in that strange ripple, drawing closer and closer with every minute that passed. Piper paused on the edge of the cabins, arms filled with four different quivers. Percy gave her a shallow nod. He had to ignore the ache in his chest as he watched his friend's face harden to the point that she looked so much older than fifteen. But she just nodded in return and ran away to deliver the quivers. 

It was the biggest military operation he’d ever seen at camp. Everyone was at the clearing, dressed in full battle armor. The Hephaestus cabin had set up traps around the entrance to the Labyrinth—razor wire, pits filled with pots of Greek fire, rows of sharpened sticks to deflect a charge. Beckendorf was manning two catapults the size of pickup trucks, already primed and aimed at Zeus’s Fist, Leo had ashes in his hair and soot streaked across his arms. The Ares cabin was on the front line, drilling in phalanx formation with Clarisse calling orders. Apollo’s and Hermes’s cabins were scattered in the woods with bows ready. Many had taken up positions in the trees. Even the dryads were armed with bows, and the satyrs trotted around with wooden cudgels and shields made of rough tree bark. 

Percy hated it. 

That part of him that found a home within Camp Half-Blood raged and screamed at seeing children ready themselves for War. He knew it was their duty but that didn’t mean he had to like it. The youngest boy there, a quick footed son of Demeter, was only twelve. Chiron had said sending the younglings away had taken a literal act of the Gods- in the form of Dionysus spiriting them away somewhere safe. 

Annabeth went to join her brethren from the Athena cabin, who had set up a command tent and were directing operations. A gray banner with an owl fluttered outside the tent. Argus stood guard at the door, slowly polishing the handle of the spear he carried. Aphrodite’s children were running around checking everybody’s armor and offering various poisoned perfumes that would hopefully keep monsters away. Pollux and Castor had taken it upon themselves to run around making sure everyone was hydrated, a strange manic gleam in their eyes. Percy denied their suspiciously red ‘kool aid’ with a grimace. 

“It's not enough,” Chiron muttered. 

Percy nodded, “we simply don’t have the numbers we need.” 

Even with four of the Seven and Nico Percy thought this battle was going to hurt. Over at the edge of the clearing, Grover was talking to Juniper. She held his hands while he told her what happened. Green tears formed in her eyes as he delivered the news about Pan. Tyson helped the Hephaestus kids prepare the defenses. He picked up boulders and piled them next to the catapults for firing. 

“Stay with me, Percy,” Chiron said. “When the fighting begins, I want you to wait until we know what we’re dealing with. You must go where we most need reinforcements.”

“If Kronos makes an appearance I need to be there,” he said. 

Chiron simply nodded, “I do not think he will show, I would sense if he were drawing near. No doubt he planned to, but I believe you inconvenienced him when you pulled down his throne room on top of him.”

Percy suppressed a smile. Telos was still smeared with gold where the charm hung at his throat. If he had his way Luke would be dead, but it was not to be. Yet. Not to be yet, he reminded himself. The ground rumbled and Percy wished he could say it was his doing. It wasn’t. It was the pounding of countless feet, bearing down upon them. 

Clarisse roared over the sounds of the Camp readying themselves, “Lock shields!” 

Then the Titan lords armies burst from underground. 

Chapter Text

Then the Titan lords armies burst from underground. 

Percy was… ashamed to admit that he froze. Not for long, but he still did. For a minute he wasn’t facing the first battle of Camp, but the last. Surrounded by his friends and family and knowing that there was no way for them to win, knowing that he would never see most of them again. It was the sound of the cannonballs Beckendorf had set up that shocked him back into reality. They shattered across the chests of the dozen Laistrygonian giants that made up the front charge. One was killed, but the rest kept coming. A huge plume of fire took out another two in short order. Dozens of arrows flew from behind him, turning the giants into pincushions and killing a few more. 

But just when it looked like the Laistrygonians were about to get overwhelmed, the next wave surged out of the maze: thirty, maybe forty dracaenae in full battle armor, wielding spears and nets. They dispersed in all directions. Some hit the traps the Hephaestus cabin had laid. One got struck on the spikes and became an easy target for archers. Another triggered a trip wire, and pots of Greek fire exploded into green flames, engulfing several of the snake women. Percy frowned. The narrow opening of the maze was their saving grace really. It meant that the monsters had to fight their way free of the natural bottleneck before spreading out. But the more that poured through the more of their traps that were used. 

Argus and Athena’s warriors rushed forward to meet them. He saw Annabeth whip Alitheia through the air and engage one of them. Nearby, Tyson was riding a giant. Somehow he’d managed to climb onto the giant’s back and was hitting him on the head with a bronze shield—BONG! BONG! BONG! Chiron calmly aimed arrow after arrow, taking down a monster with every shot. But more enemies just kept climbing out of the maze. Finally a hellhound—not Mrs. O’Leary—leaped out of the tunnel and barreled straight toward the satyrs. 

“Percy go!” Chiron yelled. 

Percy did no such thing. Instead he raised a single hand, the cold and dark coming to life within him. He bet the campers thought that all of the clay jars around the clearing were filled with Greek Fire. They weren’t. There were four placed around that were different, marked with a thin band of blue around the neck of them. Percy clenched his fist and each of the jars shattered. Four plumes of black water rose in the air. A special trip done by Nico- to go into the Underworld and beg the water from Styx. The Goddess had agreed easily enough once She realized what Percy would be doing in the battle. He slowly twisted his wrist and the water swept through the legions of monsters. Many of them laughed at the first touch of water. 

They weren’t laughing long. 

See the thing about the waters of the Styx, it drained souls. And for monsters without souls? They started to crumble, without even realizing what had happened. He smiled, more of a baring of teeth really, and swept the water in another direction. He had to be careful, pushing most of his focus into making sure not a single drop fell onto a Half blood, that was why he hadn’t protested to being told to stay behind front lines. But more and more Campers were able to move forward, forcing monsters back. The fear and chaos spreading through their ranks was nearly enough to make him purr. 

Sadly it was not a trick Percy could keep up for long. As more water soaked into the monsters he had less to work with, until all that was left was a small ball the size of his fist. Percy summoned it back to him, letting it ring across his brow and freeze into place. If by some poor stroke of luck he lost both of his weapons he needed some kind of backup. Most of the monsters were dead though, and the campers that were not currently engaging were quick to drag their most heavily injured siblings to safety. More than a few stared at him with poorly concealed fear but Percy didn’t let it bother him. Piper bounced up to him with a concerningly feral grin and pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“Told you that would work!” 

Percy rolled his eyes and tossed his arm across her shoulder, “yeah yeah, you’re terrifying princess.” 

Their bit of respite didn’t last long before another gaggle of dracaenae slithered out. Behind them were ten traitor Half bloods in full battle armor. Percy growled lowly at the sight of them. Piper broke away from him to rejoin the fighters. He debated joining her for a moment but decided to wait a little longer. A good choice when a second later his shadow suddenly sprouted an extra teenager. He helped Nico stand, brushing some monster dust off of his leather jacket. 

“There's a fire,” he panted, pointing to one corner of the clearing. 

Percy looked over and swore. He didn’t know if it was a careless bit of Greek fire or from one of their enemies or what- but a section of the forest was on fire. Junipers section of the forest. A Dryad hit her knees, screaming sickeningly as she turned to ash. Percy sprinted toward them, jumping past duels, weaving between the legs of giants. The nearest water was the creek, half a mile away but he had to do something. Percy concentrated. There was a pull in his gut and the sound of water rushing. Then a wall of water came rushing through the trees. It doused the fire, Juniper, Grover, and pretty much everything else. 

He whipped around at the sound of metal on metal. A hellhound. Percy drew Riptide and cut the beast down before it could lunge. It was time for Percy to enter the battle proper. As he raced across the battlefield, he saw horrible things. An enemy half blood was fighting with Pollux, but it wasn’t much of a contest. The enemy stabbed him in the arm then clubbed him over the head with the butt of his sword, and Pollux went down. Castor screamed his brother's name, reaching a pitch that Percy didn’t know humans could make. A cry of madness. The enemy Halfblood started screaming and clawing at his own eyes, ripping skin. Percy knocked him out out of mercy. Around him the Half bloods Percy knew and cared for were covered in blood and monster dust. Creatures bayed for their death with a feral kind of glee. 

As ever, knowing what was coming only took some of the uncertainty out of things. 

Just when it seemed like the battle had balanced out again an unearthly shriek echoed out of the Labyrinth, a sound he had heard before. Kampê shot into the sky, her bat wings fully extended. She landed on the top of Zeus’s Fist and surveyed the carnage. The mutant animal heads growled at her waist. Snakes hissed and swirled around her legs. In her right hand she held a glittering ball of thread but she popped it into a lion’s mouth at her waist and drew her curved swords, blade dripping with poison. Kampê screeched in triumph, and some of the campers screamed. 

Ethan Nakmura stumbled out of the maze behind her, a triumphant grin on his face. Even from across a battlefield he seemed to lock eyes with Percy. He had led her there. To their home. Rage ignited in his chest. Percy had given the boy his mercy and let him live, only to be betrayed like this. Ethan was a marked man, his time would come as soon as Percy was able to exact vengeance. 

“Di Immortales!” Chiron yelled.

He quickly aimed an arrow, but Kampê seemed to sense his presence. She took flight with amazing speed, and Chrion’s arrow whizzed harmlessly past her head. Percy flipped Riptide in his hand. Tyson untangled himself from the giant whom he’d pummeled into unconsciousness. Piper darted along next to him, blocking a hellhound that lunged at his unprotected back. 

He ran at the lines, shouting, “Stand! Do not run from her! Fight!”

Clarisse echoed that call, summoning her siblings to flank her. Kampê landed on the Athena command tent, smashing it flat. He ran after her and found Annabeth at his side, keeping pace, her sword in her hand. They locked eyes for just a moment, a thousand declarations passing between them silently. The ripples of that something were closing in, almost reaching him again. 

Together they leaped into the monster’s path. Kampê hissed and sliced at them. Percy dodged, trying to distract her, while Annabeth went in for a strike, but the monster seemed able to fight with both hands independently. She blocked Annabeth’s sword, and Annabeth had to jump back to avoid the cloud of poison. Just being near the thing was like standing in an acid fog. His eyes burned. His lungs couldn’t get enough air. Percy knew they couldn’t stand their ground for more than a few seconds. He pulled Telos free and launched the trident at one of her wings as a distraction. 

Kampê screamed, injured wing arching high. The blood that dripped out of it was the color of sewer water and reeked like rot. It was rare enough that monsters bled, it made Percy wince a little. Alitheia sank deep into the wing on the other side before Annabeth pulled it downwards, ripping a gnarly slice through Kampê’s wing. Kampê backhanded Annabeth in the chest, sending her flying through the air. Percy snarled and threw Telos again. He was aware of Annabeth managing to land in a roll and dart back in. They needed help, there was no way even they could face down Kampê and survive. 

But no help came. Everyone was either down, or fighting for their lives, or too scared to move forward. Three of Chiron’s arrows sprouted from Kampê’s chest, but she just roared louder. Percy melted his crown of Styx’s waters and sent it to wrap around Kampê’s throat like a noose. She shrieked horribly, nearly shattering his eardrums. Heat bloomed at Percy’s back as Leo shouted insults at the other monsters. He could hear screaming and battle cries echoing, the sound of monsters roaring, metal on metal as cousins fought each other. But for a single second Percy was still. 

The ripples had crashed back in. 

Slam! His eyesight went black. The next thing Percy knew, Annnabeth and him were on the ground. The monster had its forelegs on their chests, holding them down. His ribs screamed in pain at the weight, threatening to snap. Hundreds of snakes slithered right above him, hissing like laughter. Kampê raised her green-tinged swords, and Percy knew Annabeth and him were out of options. The swords came crashing down. Suddenly his view was blocked by a massive back. Kampê’s swords plunged deep on either side of the person's shoulders before they got stopped. 

Someone was screaming. 

Someone was screaming but it didn’t matter who it was because that was Tyson. That was Tyson standing in front of him, gold dust starting to fall from his wounds. Someone was screaming but it didn’t matter because that was his baby brother standing in front of him. Tyson turned. Tyson turned and his big calf brown eye was filled with so much love and light when he smiled. Tyson held one hand out but before Percy could begin to reach up he was gone. All that remained was golden dust on a sea scented breeze. 

Someone was screaming. 

The ground shook as some creature or another roared. One rock sailed over Percy's head, and another, joined by more and more and more. There were so many, it looked like half the earth had learned to fly. BOOOOOM! Where Kampê had stood a moment before was a mountain of boulders, almost as tall as Zeus’s Fist. The only sign that the monster had ever existed were two green sword points sticking through the cracks. A cheer went up from the campers, tangled in the sound of whoever was still screaming. 

Percy slowly shoved himself up on his elbows, then to his knees. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from where Tyson had just stood. Where his brother should have still been, offering a hand to help him up. Offering a hand to pull him out of the pit of frozen rage Percy could feel himself falling into, unable to claw himself free. A flash of blonde hair crossed his vision, and storm cloud eyes blown nearly black. The part of Percy that would always put Annabeth before anything else wanted to comfort her when she let out a harsh sob, tears streaking through the grime on her face. Most of him was muffled behind thick black ice. 

It wasn’t until a warm hand covered his mouth that Percy realized the screaming was him. The smell of coconut and paper helped center his mind back into his body. The sounds of battle crashed back into his ears. Percy pushed himself to his feet. Annabeth rose with him, saying something. She might as well have been speaking in French for how well he understood her. He turned back to the fight. Not even the loss of Kampê had stopped Kronos’ armies. There were no more emerging from the Labyrinth but there were a good eighty different monsters in the clearing, facing off against maybe half that of Demigods. 

Riptide was a familiar weight in his hand. 

Percy stepped back into the battle, ice filling his veins. He felt nothing as he cut down giants and dracaenae and half bloods alike. Monster dust coated his blade-skin-lungs-armor and he felt nothing. Hot blood splashed across his face, mortal red, and Percy felt nothing. He didn’t know how long it was before he heard some Gods awful sound. It was like a brass trumpet magnified a thousand times—the sound of pure fear. As one, the forces of Kronos dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. The giants trampled the dracaenae trying to get into the Labyrinth first. Telekhines and hellhounds and enemy half-bloods scrambled after them. 

Right at their heels came the predator risen from the deep. Percy did not halt at the entrance of the Labyrinth. He dropped right behind a slow Telekhine, cutting its head from its body before it could warn anyone. Percy slowly cocked his head, the deep inky blackness of the Labyrinth closing in around him. He could see just fine, but better than that he could taste his prey in the air. Even monsters sweat in fear. He slunk forward on silent feet. The only sound was the whisper of dust as he cut down foe after foe after foe. The only sound bodies hitting the ground. Not a single one looked back to realize he was there. 

Body. 

A plume of dust. 

A blade through the gap in armor. 

The choked snarl of a dying Hellhound.

The hiss of a Dracanae. 

A Traitor. 

Another. 

Percy only stopped when the last of them escaped him. He stood in a six way intersection of aged cinder blocks. He could hear the sounds of feet scraping stone and near silent whimpers, but they echoed and distorted too much for him to track. He stood there, frozen, for a long moment before turning on his heel. The Labyrinth did not try to change behind him or lead him astray. Maybe it knew better, or maybe it was the shuddering beneath his feet. Percy breath steamed in front of his face, black ice crystals holding up the crumbling rock around him. 

Percy hauled himself out of the Labyrinth as it collapsed in upon itself. He hoped that those that managed to escape him could not escape the tons of crushing rock. Maybe then they would know the pressure filling his chest. Time had passed, as it did in the Labyrinth. The fires of battle had been put out, and campers were in the process of moving their wounded. Someone called his name once he emerged. Campers whirled around to look at them, many falling away as he walked forward. Percy couldn’t bear to look over as he passed the pile that buried Kampe, at the smear of dust he knew was there. 

Wind whipped through the clearing, sending dust and dirt flying. Percy thought he could hear the crackle of lightning. The ground bucked under his feet with every step. Campers were forced to their knees as pressure weighed down on them. Nothing like the weight of the sky or the deep Seas that filled Percy’s veins. He kept his eyes forward, meeting a pink pair. Someone yelped in fear as Percy grabbed Silena by the throat. Not Riptide, not Telos, his hands. His nails dug deep, leaching her tan skin of color when he gripped tighter. Silena choked beautifully as he drug her to his level, teeth bared in her face. 

“I told you,” he hissed. 

Percy could see himself in the reflection of her eyes. He looked feral, unhinged. Fine tremors started deep in his chest, radiating outwards. Someone tried to drag him away and he lashed out with his free hand, shoving them back. 

“I TOLD YOU!” the ground bucked with his yell, nearly making them fall. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she whimpered. 

“You killed him! You KILLED MY BROTHER!” 

Silena sobbed and it was all Percy could do to not use those false worthless tears to drown her. After all, poison is a liquid too. He gripped tighter, blood welling up from where his nails had pierced skin. It tracked against Silenas skin, forming circles and waves as it dripped free. 

“Percy enough!” 

He glanced over to meet multicolored eyes. Piper was hand in hand with Annabeth, blood streaking down from a slice in her hairline. But the injury did not affect her abilities. Percy tried to fight against her, but he was not stronger than Piper's Charmspeak. 

“Percy, sleep.” 

He stumbled back and away, eyes sliding closed against his will. The last thing Percy saw before his back hit the ground was Annabeth lunging forward, Alitheia clutched in her hand. 

~~~

People always focused on Percy as the biggest threat. Most of the time that was true, he was the strongest Half Blood around after all. But what most people didn’t realize was that she was the one who usually curbed his attention. And Annabeth? Annabeth was twice as vicious. Alitheia was hot in her hand, the handle slick with blood and sweat. Silena had just stepped away from Percy's prone form, she wasn’t expecting another attack. Her blade met the daughter of Aphrodites neck and sizzled. A Blade of Athena. A weapon that meant Truth, that would heat in the presence of lies. 

“Anna-” 

“Shut the fuck up Piper,” she growled. 

Annabeth looked up at Silena and held back the urge to spit in the girl's face. Campers gathered around them, drawn in by Percy's shattered screams. The only, only, reason Annabeth hadn’t joined him yet was sheer strength of will. Still as she stared at Silena tears started sliding down her face again. Her fist tightened in the back of Silena’s hair, wrenching her head further back. Blood boiled where it wet the edge of her blade. There was a part of Annabeth that knew Silena was being manipulated by Luke, that she wasn’t fully at fault. It was that part that kept her from slitting the girls throat in front of the Gods and everyone else. Chiron was carried forward on a stretcher, kind eyes flicking over everything. 

“Annabeth?” 

And that was the voice of the man who raised her. Not her father, not her step mother, or her mother, but Chiron. The man who had bandaged her knees and held her close after she had nightmares. A sob worked its way up her throat but Annabeth's grip didn’t waver. She was too much of her mothers daughter for that. 

“Someone better fuckin’ explain and quickly!” Clarisse barked. 

Annabeth risked a glance over to her friend. Most people wouldn’t see the fear hidden on her rough face, but Ananbeth knew better. Beckendorf at her side seemed ready to lunge. If Leo hadn’t placed a smoking hand on his shoulder Annabeth thought he might have. 

“She’s a traitor,” Annabeth rasped. 

“What proof-” Charles spat. 

Annabeth pulled the silver scythe charm from under Silenas armor. A harsh yank downwards snapped the chain and she held it up. The girl didn’t even argue or try to explain herself. The tears dripping off her chin made Annabeth see red. 

“Tell them!” she yelled, “tell them how you sold us out! How you told Luke what our defenses were, who would be here and who would be gone, your suspicions on who ‘Quintus’ was!” 

“Annabeth,” Piper said quietly, “let her go.” 

She didn’t try Charmspeak. Instead it was the soft soothing voice that Piper normally sang in, or how she would soothe them after nightmares. Annabeth looked over to her friend, fresh tears breaking free. Piper was doing her best to look strong, but her nose was twitching like she was fighting her own tears. 

“He’s dead. Tyson is dead,” she sobbed. 

“I know Annie. Let Silena go, we will handle it from here. Please.” 

Annabeth's fingers unclenched from around Alitheia and the blade fell to the ground. Piper pulled her away from Silena carefully and tucked her against her chest. Her mask shattered, face hidden away in the dark space between Pipers shoulder and neck. The first sob ripped its way free from her chest, followed by another and another, until Annabeth was lost to her emotions. 

“Take her to the Big House, we’ll figure out what to do tomorrow. For now we have wounded to attend to, and funerals to plan.” 

~~~~

There were too many goodbyes. 

More than last time, and those that fell were steadily ripping his heart to shreds. Lee Fletcher, Castor, the young Demeters boy whose name Percy didn’t even know. Another one of Apollo’s boys named Jordan, his golden shroud braided with a blood red for a daughter of Ares named Jamie that he had been dating. One of the older Hephaestus girls, two sons of Hermes. Four Dryads and a Nymph, joined by two Satyrs. 

Tyson. 

Tyson. 

Tyson.

Percy cradled one of the little statues Tyson loved to make. A little golden remake of his Hippocampi Rainbow. Cyclops were like all other monsters and dissolved into nothing but dust so they had nothing to burn. Once it was time for Percy to step forward he gently laid the statue down upon the pyre. Its polished surface glimmered wetly with the tears he didn’t bother trying to stop. Pollux tried to say a few words, but he choked up and just took the torch. He lit the funeral pyre in the middle of the amphitheater, and within seconds the row of shrouds was engulfed in fire, sending smoke and sparks up to the stars. 

Percy watched it burn, ice in his heart. Night drew thick and dangerous around them. The lines between cabins disappeared as Demigods clung to each other in silent sorrow. He stayed sitting in the benches long after the fire went out, Annabeth leaning into his side. A few other campers were there too, staring at the ashes that remained of their friends and siblings. 

“We did this,” he rasped eventually. 

Annabeth nodded with her head pressed against his shoulder, “whatever we have changed, how we made ourselves bigger threats, Kronos and Luke are hitting harder.” 

Percy didn’t think that there was a harder for them to hit. He remembered the slaughter of their first life. How many they burned by the end of it. He wondered how many more friends they would lose this time around, if it would be any of the Seven. Kronos’ armies had attacked New Rome too, they were only just getting reports of the damages to the other group. He sighed, salt crusted to his face from tears. Annabeth got up and held out a hand for him. 

For a second all Percy could see was Tyson reaching out. 

He took her hand and let her pull him upright. Annabeth's nails dug into the back of his hand. The pain grounded him. Percy thought that if Annabeth let go of his hand he would start screaming, and he didn’t know if he would ever stop. It was all he could do to see through the tears that still slid down his face. He didn’t fight Annabeth pulling him to the Healers tent. Nearly a dozen campers in various states laid across the cots. Nico was helping a younger and more frantic Will than Percy had ever seen tend to wounds. When they ducked through the door flap, all noise and motion stopped for a second before it started again. Any other day Percy would have cared about the weight of the stares trained on him. But he was… numb. Far away. 

There was a hole gouged out of his chest. 

Actually, literally. Percy didn’t realize that something had gotten ahold of him at one point. A spear or a blade or a claw he didn’t know. Annabeth cut his blood crusted shirt away and began cleaning blood off of the wound. One of Apollos girls gathered enough courage to approach and tend to the wound before she scuttled away again. Percy kept his eyes trained on an unconscious Leo, counting his breaths. There was motion at the front of the tent as Piper stepped in. Her eyes flicked to Leo first, weight seeming to fall off of her shoulders before she looked to Percy and Annabeth. 

“The Council of Elders requests your presence,” she said. 

Percy shoved off of the cot. He couldn’t find the energy for words. He walked out of the tent without looking back, Annabeth at his side. The muggy summer air settled heavily on his bare skin but Percy didn’t bother to find a shirt. The Council of Cloven Elders held an emergency meeting in their sacred grove. The three senior satyrs were there, along with Chiron, who was in wheelchair form. His broken horse leg was still mending, so he would be confined to the chair for a few months, until the leg was strong enough to take his weight. The grove was filled with satyrs and dryads and naiads up from the water—hundreds of them, anxious to hear what would happen. Juniper, Annabeth, and Percy stood by Grover’s side. 

Silenus wanted to exile Grover immediately, but Chiron persuaded him to at least hear evidence first, so Grover told everyone what had happened in the crystal cavern, and what Pan had said. Then several eyewitnesses from the battle described the weird sound Grover had made, which drove the Titan’s army back underground.

“It was panic,” insisted Juniper. “Grover summoned the power of the wild god.”

“Preposterous!” Silenus bellowed. “Sacrilege! Perhaps the wild god favored us with a blessing. Or perhaps Grover’s music was so awful it scared the enemy away!”

“It wasn't,” Grover said calmly. 

Every eye swung to focus on him as he knelt and pressed one hand flat to the ground. Grover breathed out and dozens of wildflowers bloomed around his hand. The grass around him turned spring green and a sweet scented breeze whipped by. Grover looked up, a small smile on his face. He rose to his hooves and a crown of Holly bloomed around his horns. 

“This is the blessing of Pan, gifted to me upon His passing.” Grover said softly. “The God of the Wilds is no more, and it is our sacred duty to hear his last wish.” 

“After two thousand years of searching, this is what you would have us believe?” Silenus cried. “Never! We must continue the search! Exile the traitor!”

Some of the older satyrs muttered assent.

“A vote!” Silenus demanded. “Who would believe this ridiculous young satyr, anyway?”

“I would,” said a familiar voice.

Everyone turned. Striding into the grove was Dionysus. He wore a formal black suit, a deep purple tie and violet dress shirt, His curly dark hair carefully combed. His eyes were bloodshot as usual, and His pudgy face was flushed, but He looked like He was suffering from grief more than wine-withdrawal. Percy jerked into a shallow bow a second behind everyone else. For once Dionysus did not look at him with disdain, but with a shared world shaking rage and sorrow. 

“I bear bad news, my friends. Evil news. The minor gods are changing sides. Morpheus has gone over to the enemy. Hecate, Janus, and Nemesis, as well. Zeus knows how many more.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance.

“Strike that,” Dionysus said. “Even Zeus doesn’t know. Now, I want to hear Grover’s story. Again, from the top.”

“But, my lord,” Silenus protested. “It’s just nonsense!”

Dionysus’s eyes flared with purple fire. “I have just learned that my son Castor is dead, Silenus. I am not in a good mood. You would do well to humor me.”

Silenus gulped, and waved at Grover to start again. When Grover was done Dionysus nodded slowly. 

“Pan would not have been able to help in this War, not with how weak He had become. Bar the sorrow from your hearts and know that your God made the best choice. He has chosen a Champion to follow His path in Grover.” 

Percy watched Silenus argue back stupidly. Dionysus’ clenched fists were almost enough to give him humor. The meeting dissolved and Grover began directing the remaining Satyrs. The noise of conversation buzzed at Percy’s ears like gnats. 

“Boy.” 

Percy’s gaze slowly turned to Dionysus. The Gods mouth pressed tightly together before he sighed through his nose. 

“We will deal with the girl shortly. Take a moment, release the rage. You must not allow it to devour you.” 

“I want him dead.” 

It might have been the first time Percy spoke since the battle. He didn’t remember. His voice was still shattered from screaming. The cold and dark words dropped from his mouth like stones. Dionysus just nodded. 

“We agree then. Go, Now.” 

Percy turned away. He pressed a kiss to a silent Annabeth's palm before releasing her. Immediately his teeth began to chatter, everything that he was shoving down bubbling up. Annabeth watched him go with sad eyes. He walked to the Sea, leaving a trail of ice frosting the edges of the leaves in his wake. Percy sank beneath the surf and sat cross legged about a half mile off the coast. It was dark so far down, but the pitch black water leaking off of him only made it worse. 

Percy was aware of the feeling of his fathers eyes on him. He didn’t look over to Poseidon though. Not as the God sat next to him and set His own Trident across His knees. Amphithere sat at his other side and pulled him under Her arm. 

“It does get easier,” Triton said, swimming forward with a flick of His tail. 

His sea green hair was leached of color amongst Percy’s water, the Gods immortal glows muted. 

“It will not happen quickly, and none should rush you, but the pain will become a manageable weight,” Triton promised. 

“Tyson will reform,” Poseidon said next, “and though he will not be the exact same he will still be your brother.” 

Amphithere rubbed his back softly. Percy just stared into the dark depths. He heard their words. They even gave him some sense of comfort. But he did not have the space in him to process. It took most of his focus to not explode in rage and darkness in such a way that would make St. Helen look like a shaken coke bottle. 

“What about Rainbow?” Percy asked, some minutes or hours later. 

“I will keep him with my own mount,” Amphithtere said immediately, “Until Tyson has reformed and is big enough to ride again.” 

Percy nodded and rose to his feet. Poseidon rose with him and carefully cupped the side of his neck. Their matching eyes met. Poseidon may not have been the most present father but He had guided Tyson to Percy. He’d watched over the young cyclops in the forges the past year. Percy could see the churning seas in his fathers eyes. 

“Dionysus calls for you,” he said softly, “do not let your rage guide you in this my son, be better.” 

Percy pulled Telos off of its chain and let the trident form in his hand. Golden Ichor still stained the tines of it. It did not wash off in the current. As if the weapon had absorbed the Ichor. Poseidon’s mouth twitched and He placed His hand over Percy’s where it wrapped around the handle. 

“Go Perseus, and remember that you are my son.”

Percy nodded. A black circlet froze into place around his brow. Poseidon's face spasmed strangely but Amphithere laughed. She rose through the water and pressed a kiss to the crown of Percy’s head. 

“Do not mind your father,” she whispered, “He just does not care to see His child claimed by another.” 

“A child of the Black Waters would have been an ill Omen even before these times,” Poseidon grumbled, “However, it may still protect you.” 

Amphithere pressed another kiss to Percy’s head and sent the current rushing around him to carry him to the shore. Percy stepped out of the water onto the sand of the beach at Camp with Telos in one hand and wearing a crown. Annabeth was waiting for him. She stepped right into the edge of the water to meet him, stormcloud eyes flashing. Percy took the hand she held out, faint glowing threads falling from each of the scars banding her fingers. He turned to look over the Camp, the rising sun just beginning to lighten the shadows. 

“Let's go.” He said softly. 

Chapter Text

Percy and Annabeth stepped into the Big House. The other heads of the Cabins were already there. Not a single one of them looked like they had slept since the Battle. More than a few were sitting stiffly, holding various rags filled with ice or bandages to wounds. 

Clarisse was the only one who met his eye, a muscle visibly flexing in her jaw. Her nose had been broken, resulting in two gnarly black eyes and a bloody scab across the bridge. But sitting at her side was a large Hispanic boy, watching everything with a faintly confused look. It was Chris Rodriguez, the half-blood who’d gone insane in the Labyrinth. Percy nodded to Dionysus and Chiron before he took his seat. Annabeth stayed standing behind him and rested her chin on the top of his head. 

“Now that our tardy members are here we may begin.” Dionysus said. 

He wasn’t trying to pull off the smarmy uncaring mask He normally wore. The God was fully in the moment, staring out over them with Madness in His eyes. And He held a bundle of grapes. Slowly but surely Dionysus was squishing each one between His fingers. Percy couldn’t tell if the taste of wine in the air was real or if it was His aura. 

“You knew that Silena was a Traitor.” Travis Stoll said flatly. 

Percy wasn’t sure if it was directed at him or Annabeth but he was the one that answered, “Yes. She kept playing with that necklace when she was stressed. I didn’t put it together until I saw Kronos with that Scythe…” 

Technically a lie. But who was there to call him out? He clenched his fist under the table, driving his nails into his own palm. He needed to keep his cool. 

“You didn’t tell anyone!” Katie yelled, “we could have prepared better! We could have fed her false information, or cast her out, or or or…” Tears sled down her red face. 

Her younger brother was killed. 

The worst kind of shared experience. 

“That would have just made it clear to Luke that we knew she was a mole.” Annabeth said, “and she would have been pulled out of Camp anyway. We were hoping that we could show her the error of her ways.” 

“How many of our siblings are dead because of that?” Pollux spat. 

Percy stared at him coldly before he answered, “eight.” 

He leaned forward to prop his elbows on the table, looking to each of the Heads, “Eight of us are dead, not to mention the nature spirits. And we can throw all of the accusations we want around this table but we all know who is to blame.” 

“You want us to trust you?” Clarisse said. 

Her voice sounded just as wrecked as Percy’s. For the first time he wondered if her eyes were just swollen from the broken nose. He wasn’t the only one who lost a younger sibling. The girl shoved out of her seat and stomped around the table to stand in front of him with her arms crossed. Percy didn’t have many issues with dominance battles amongst his fellow Demigods, but Ares’ burning aura was practically rippling off of Clarisse. It picked at his already fragile temper, begging for a fight. But Percy drowned the urge in the cold and dark. 

“I have only ever wanted to protect this Camp,” he said quietly. 

“Prove it.” she ordered back. 

An unstoppable force and an unmovable object. 

Percy remembered how the Ares cabin had hesitated to join the War last time. They could not afford that now if Kronos was going to be hitting harder than ever. Percy held his hand up to Annabeth. They did not need to speak before she was pressing her knife into his hand. He cradled the cursed blade as if it were made of glass. He kept steady eye contact with Clarisse as he slid the edge through the meat of his palm. Thunder rumbled over head. 

“Percy…” Chiron said quietly. 

“I swear upon my blood that I want this Camp to survive,” he said softly but firmly, “I swear that I am not nor have I ever been or ever will be in league with Kronos and by extension Luke. I swear to fight for Olympus against the gathered forces of Kronos. By blood and power, I swear. ” 

Clarisse watched the blood pool on the table between them. Percy wondered if she clocked the golden shimmer hidden within the red. She held out her hand in silent demand. Percy raised his brows but passed Annabeth's knife over. 

Clarisse was not as careful as he was when she drug the knife through her own hand, “I swear upon my blood that I want this Camp to survive,” She repeated gruffly without looking away, “I swear that I am not nor have I ever been or ever will be in league with Kronos and by extension Luke. I swear to fight for Olympus against the gathered forces of Kronos.” 

Clarisse turned to the rest of their fellows who watched in shocked silence. The corner of her lip lifted in a sneer before she flung Annabeth's knife down into the center of the table point first. It sank an inch deep with the force behind it and trembled like a struck bell. 

“Anyone who doesn’t want to swear can get the fuck out,” Clarisse snarled, “or I can remove you. Choose quickly.” 

Annabeth pulled her knife out of the table and swore. Next was Pollux. Then Katie. Travis and Conner in perfect harmony, Beckendorf, Michael Yew, on and on. Until each of the Demigods had made their oaths. Percy felt Styx watching over them. Considering none of them dropped dead he assumed they told the truth. 

Only once the last Head made their oath did Clarisse let out a slow breath from her nose. Ares’ daughter sat back in her seat with only the sound of her leather under armor creaking. She met each of their eyes slowly, landing on Percy last. For a long moment they just held the stare before she nodded once. 

“I call for War.” 

Percy’s spine locked. The Stoll brothers actually rose from their chairs, faces twisted in snarls. Annabeth's hands on his shoulders tightened to the point of pain. All because of the rippling aura of anger filling the room. Though the God did not take form it was no question if Ares watched over them. 

“Clarisse?” Chiron asked. 

But she paid the old Centaur no mind. Arguments leapt around the table. It was different than Percy remembered but not exceedingly so. There were still divisions being drawn. Some of the cabins thought that they could keep their heads down and stay out of the War. 

Notably it was only the ones who hadn’t lost a sibling who thought that. 

Annabeth hissed and snarled above his head, reminding him of nothing more than an ornery alley cat. Percy did not argue. He lightly tapped his fingers against the table. One at a time, barely there twitches. Little slivers of wood began to splinter under his nails. Thump. Thump. Thump. 

Thump. 

Thump.

… Thump. 

… 

Thump. 

Thump. 

“The Poseidon Cabin answers the call.” 

Every head snapped to stare at Percy when he finally spoke. But he looked to Dionysus. The Patron God of their Camp raised a single dark brow at him. 

“Now you ask for permission Jackson?” 

“No,” thump, “I go to War.” 

Thump. 

Dionysus watched him with those mad eyes, “... I go to War.”

“Athena goes to War.” 

Thump.

“Apollo goes to War.” 

Thump.

“Hermes goes to War.” 

… Thump. 

“Aphrodite Areia goes to war.” 

They were like a bunch of dogs hearing a distant car horn. Piper did not shake from the weight of their gazes. She marched right up to the table and flipped the only open chair around so that she could straddle it. If the fact that it was the only open chair didn’t clue everyone in to who it belonged to, the fact that it was spray painted eye searingly neon pink could do the job. Piper's multicolored eyes were harder than diamonds. 

“Why should we trust you?” Pollux sneered. “Who’s to say you won’t betray us as soon as we turn around.” 

Piper's jaw ticked up a fraction, “you can not sideline one of the largest Cabins.” 

“Oh because a bunch of beauty queens are going to fight?” Katie Gardner asked. 

Percy held in a wince. He remembered when he would have agreed. But Piper had led the Aphrodite Cabin in an uprising as soon as she stepped into Camp. 

“Aphrodite Areia, ” Annabeth said slowly. 

“One of the first versions of the Goddess, with roots tracing back to Middle Eastern and Mesopatonian worships. She had Cults in places like Taras, Kythira, and even Sparta.” Piper rattled off. 

“Aphrodite is the Goddess of Love!” Travis protested. 

“Do not think of Us as statues,” Dionysus warned, “We reflect the modern beliefs but that is not all We are.” 

That cowed the lot of them. At least until Clarisse nodded to Annabeth. 

“Have her swear.” 

Percy wondered if Annabeth's already cursed blade would end up even more deadly now. But Piper swore without any issues. Piper wrapped a bandanna (roman purple) around her hand to stop the bleeding and glared at them. 

“Now. About my sister.” 

“Kick her out of Camp and see if she can make it past the monsters.” Percy said lowly. 

Piper sneered, “a likely death sentence. And if she goes to Kronos there is no telling what she could spill.” 

“More of a chance than she will get here,” Katie promised. 

Piper’s brow furrowed, “you’d kill her?” 

“Just like she killed my brother,” the daughter of Demeter hissed. 

“No one is killing anyone!” Beckendorf snapped. 

It was rare enough to hear him speak, and even Percy reared back from the anger in his voice. His nails drove into the table but that was the only other reaction Percy allowed himself. The muscles in Beckendorfs arms and shoulders bulged as he rose to brace himself against the table. He glared at all of them. They couldn’t risk alienating the Hephaestus cabin even more than the others. Without weapons and armor they would be screwed. And the whole Camp knew it. More than a few people looked away guiltily. 

“I suggest Persona non grata,” Piper said seriously, “Allow her to stay within Camp but that is all. Do not speak to her, do not train with her, act as if she is not here. We can not allow her to leave and we will not kill her.”

Thump.  

“I don’t want to see her.” Percy said flatly, “I will not be held accountable for what I do.” 

“Percy…” Annabeth warned from above him. 

But Percy just shook his head. Thump. He felt the weight of the deep seas wrap around his bones as he thought about it. The girl who- admittedly was not entirely at fault- led to the death of his baby brother. The Percy of this day and age was a completely different beast than the one who had lived this life the first time. And the few threads that kept him sane, that stitched the thin layer of mortal control over a deep born predator, had been cut too soon. 

Thump. 

“She can stay in the Big House, we will watch her.” Chiron said. 

“All in favor?” 

They gave their Ayes. there was some grumbling and glares, but everyone knew it was the best option that Silena would get. The meeting was adjourned without much more conversation. Percy rose from his seat with the intention of finally going to (sob until he passed out) crash in bed. But Clarisse stopped him with a barked order of his name. He half turned in her direction, waiting until she reached his shoulder to turn to leave. They walked out of the Big House in silence together. Annabeth went invisible and peeled off with only a glancing touch against the small of his back. Out of habit Percy and Clarisse found themselves standing in the Arena. 

He thought they would fall into their normal habit of beating the shit out of each other until they had enough space in their chests to talk about the real issue. But that wasn’t what happened. Clarisse flopped down in the sand and patted the ground next to her. It was well past midnight, probably getting closer to morning than night. They were exhausted and emotionally wrecked. 

Percy sat. 

Clarisse laid back in the sand, moonlight glinting off the red behind her eyes. Percy looked up to the stars. Zoe’s constellation pranced after the big bear one like she was hunting it. 

“Did you already know that Silena was a traitor when you encouraged me to go for her?” Clarisse asked gruffly. 

Percy didn’t look at her when he answered simply, “yes.” 

“And you didn’t warn me?” 

He picked up a handful of sand and let it spill through his fingers without looking away from the stars, “I thought… no I hoped that she would realize what she is doing is wrong. I hoped she would look at all of the changes we have made, that she would see the kids of Camp, and remember that we protect them.” 

“She was… angry” Clarisse said slowly, “after Drew. I think she tried to warn her before the quest that it wouldn’t go well. And Drew didn’t listen.” 

“And now more of us had to bury our siblings.” 

“Jamie and Jordan were going to get married next summer,” Clarisse whispered, “Jamie, she- she was working on making their rings herself. I’ve never seen a child of Ares spend that much time in the forges before.” 

Percy closed his eyes to stop his tears from falling, “Tyson could have been a General. And he was one of the youngest Cyclops to ever get personally invited to Poseidon's Forges.” 

“We are going to make Kronos pay.” Clarisse said. 

Percy finally turned to look down at her. Her dark eyes nearly glowed with the red behind them. He nodded and rose to his feet. Clarisse held a hand up for him to help her up as well. They looked at each other for a moment before Percy said what he knew in the marrow of his bones. 

“We are going to kill him.” 

A slow smile pulled across Clarisse’s face. Not something happy by any stretch of the word, but… a smile. She twisted her wrist and Lamar took form from the copper cuff she always wore. Red light bloomed over her like an aura. And when it faded a second later it wasn't the girl Percy knew standing there. No, not the rough and gruff daughter of Ares. Not even the head of her Cabin… It was a general who faced him. She had been covered in armor, styled exactly like the traditional Greek warriors. The helmet covered her whole face and her plume was a startling blood red. And... and dripping from that plume, in tiny streams of what he hoped was paint, was more blood red. It ran down her helmet and the shoulders of her armor until it joined a cape of the same color. 

“Get some rest Puddles,” Clarisse ordered, “tomorrow we stop holding anything back.” 

“Goodnight Clarisse.” 

He left her in the Arena, head tilted back and mouth silently moving. Percy didn’t know if she was praying to her father or any of the other Gods. He didn’t stick around to try and find out. He went back to the Poseidon Cabin but stopped outside the doors.

Tyson. 

His brother's bunk was still inside. It was probably still a mess of little machine parts and dirty clothes. Percy had turned Cabin three into his second home by bringing his family into it. His hands slowly fisted at his sides, a rumble shaking the ground. The door pulled open. Annabeth stood in the entrance, wet hair hanging around her bare shoulders. She’d pulled on one of his tank tops and a pair of Pipers shorts after her shower. She looked him up and down quickly with a slight frown. 

“I thought you’d come back bloody.” 

“Honestly me too.” 

Percy thought that he broke any chance of friendship with Clarisse. He fully expected this to be the reason that Ares didn’t join the War at first. A huge part of him wanted to know what was going through Clarisse’s head that stopped that from happening. 

Annabeth held the door open for him to enter his Cabin. Percy turned away from the bunk across from his, already hidden from sight by a curtain hanging from the ceiling. A sheen of silver caught his eye from his bunk. A picture frame. 

His mom took the picture last summer. They were at the beach just messing around and Tyson had snuck away from the forges. They are standing knee deep in the water grinning like idiots with blue mouths after eating blue iced cookies. Tysons whole face was screwed up with glee, eye barely visible from how hard he was smiling. They looked so young. 

Percy sat on his bed with the picture. Tears slid down his nose. He pressed his thumb over Tysons chest, unable to look away from his bright grin. If he’d known… 

Tyson. 

“I can’t do this again,” he whispered. “I can’t lose anyone else. Gods Annabeth… If I lost you,” 

Annabeth sighed and swung herself over his lap to straddle his legs. Her stormcloud eyes were ringed with red. Lightning flashed across her pupils like a silent hurricane. 

“You won’t.” 

“Anna-” 

“You won’t.” 

She held onto either side of his face and brought them so close together their noses brushed, “I don’t care what laws it would break. I would bring the whole Underworld down around me to get to you.” 

And she would. Percy could see it stitched into the very tapestry of her being. After all, who was the one who ripped apart the fabric of everything to send them back for another chance? Annabeth wouldn’t stop. If she had to go against Hades, Thanatos, the collected armies of the dead, she wouldn’t stop. 

“I went to Tartarus for you,” Percy whispered back, “I would do so much worse.” 

“I refuse to exist in this world without you,” Annabeth swore. 

“And Gods help anyone that separates us,”  he said. 

“We do not falter. We do not yield. We will face against Kronos and win. We will stop the second War from happening at all. But we can only do it together, Percy.” 

Percy pressed their foreheads together and released a slow breath, “we do it together.” 

“Into eternity seaweed brain.” 

“Into eternity wise girl.” 

END.