Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

What is broken but hidden, healed by gold
Or fractured worse by silver gone cold
An offered task, the final resort
And a promise kept by unexpected port

You shall go west and face the god who has turned
And see what was stolen safely returned
But beware a betrayal that strikes at the heart
And learn the true grief of being apart

A half-blood of the eldest gods
Shall reach sixteen against all odds
And see the world in endless sleep
Hero’s soul cursed blade shall reap
A single choice shall end their days
Olympus to preserve or raze

“It’s too dangerous.”

Thalia didn’t bother to roll her eyes, but boy was the temptation strong.

Fortunately, Luke handled the sarcastic response on her behalf. “Too dangerous for Thalia, or because of her?”

“Do not deliberately misinterpret me, Luke,” Chiron warned, eyebrows drawing together. “It would be best if Thalia does not leave camp until after she turns sixteen.”

“And maybe not even then, right? Just keep her locked up until the Great Prophecy skips over her, off to focus onto Percy instead-?”

Thalia bumped her best friend’s shoulder before he could get a real rant going, and looked up at the centaur. “Pretty sure trying to avoid prophecies doesn’t work, Chiron. Especially when we’ve got zero information besides a forbidden kid being involved.”

The year before, one of Annabeth’s older siblings was doing some research about prophecies of the past century, trying to apply some fancy math thing to pick out common patterns, and accidentally let her read the ‘Great Prophecy’ that was made right after the second World War. Annabeth promptly took it to Luke, who shared it with Thalia, who really didn’t like the final line of the damn thing: Olympus to preserve or raze.

She’d be the first person to agree certain high and mighty idiots deserved to be taken down a peg or two. But after three years of working with Hera’s favor, of sneaking Percy out of camp every few months to see Poseidon, Thalia knew there were better ways to change the system than just burning it down. Especially when the prophecy didn’t exactly indicate there would be any rebuilding afterward.

“Look. It’s Luke’s quest. You can give him all the advice and warnings you want, but at the end of the day, he gets to decide who his partners are. Right?” Thalia raised both her eyebrows.

After a beat, Chiron sighed. “That is, correct.”

“Great. So I’ll go pack my bag while he grabs our third, and we’ll hit the road before noon.”

When she told Percy, the ten year old bounced between excitement, concern, and a really annoying insistence that he should be their third questmate.

“I’ve got a sword now,” the twerp insisted, holding up the celestial bronze blade his dad gave him for a birthday present. “And I’m getting better at making water do what I want! And-”

“Percy,” Thalia interrupted, stuffing two extra pairs of socks into her backpack. “If you come with us, who is Annabeth supposed to boss around while we’re gone?”

That earned a huff, but at least he stopped pushing. “...you’ll be back soon, right?”

“Dunno,” Thalia admitted, slipping a pair of slender silver knives into the sheaths sewn into her boots. Useful for quick stabs, but she could also throw them with a bit of an electrical charge, and really cause some damage. “Maybe a couple of weeks, if we’re fast and don’t hit much trouble. Might be closer to a month, if shit decides to go wrong.”

Neither of them bothered to mention the possibility of not coming back at all.

Clothes, weapons, snacks, and some emergency supplies all squared away, Thalia stood and pulled her little cousin into a hug. He’d gotten way bigger since they first came to camp; she could definitely see him getting taller than her in a few more years. But for the moment, Thalia was still able to wrap her arms around the twerp and haul him up off the ground, earning some reluctant giggles in the process. “You’re gonna behave, right?”

“Yeah.”

“But if you can’t behave-”

“-don’t get caught!”

Percy trailed her all the way to the camp’s main entrance, joined partway by Annabeth, who hugged tight but quick (and neatly slipped an extra few drachma into Thalia’s pocket, which she wouldn’t find until much later).

Both kids embraced Luke as well, when they joined him, while Thalia aimed a grin at their party’s third member. “You really let yourself get dragged away from the forge for this, Beckendorf?”

The Hephaestus kid grinned back, and rolled his thick shoulders in a shrug. Despite only being thirteen, the guy already had a couple inches over Thalia, and way more broad muscle. “Luke talked me into it, with that prophecy the Oracle gave him. I work better with bronze than silver or gold, but if you need something fixed along the way I’ll be your best bet.”

“Fair enough.” Whether the prophecy meant something physical to be fixed or not, Thalia approved of Luke’s choice. Beckendorf was faster than he looked and could pack a lot of power into the swings of his hammer, either hitting metal on his anvil or caving a monster’s face in.

Chiron met them at the camp boundary, where one of the strawberry delivery trucks waited. “You’ll be dropped off at a train station in the city,” the centaur told them, “And from there, make your way west, to the Garden of the Hesperides. Your skills and knowledge shall be put to the test with every step - but should you succeed, and retrieve one of the Golden Apples for Hermes, the reward will be equally great.” Then he dropped his ‘wise and ancient mentor’ voice, and said more warmly, “For what it is worth, I wish you good luck.”

“Thanks,” Luke replied, smiling grimly. “We’ll need it.”

Well now... Just where are you going, little hero...?

Thalia may have overestimated, when she told Percy they’d be back in a month at the most.

First a hellhound attacked them on the train from NYC to Philly, which mortals saw as three teenagers trying to wrangle an extremely unhappy mastiff, and got them kicked off at the next station even after killing it. They did some cross country hitchhiking through Pennsylvania, then snuck onto another train that took them the rest of the way to Pittsburgh. A flock of harpies showed up, which Luke and Beckendorf distracted while Thalia climbed to the top of an old steel mill so she could hit them with lightning from above (trying not to panic from being so high up at the same time).

After recovering from that fight, they found a mortal who believed Luke’s story about trying to get away from a bad family situation to cousins in Chicago, and let the three of them ride in a camper trailer across two states and up to the Windy City. In the process of slipping away from the well-meaning woman and heading to another train station, though, the freaking Nemean Lion showed up, just to make life more interesting.

Thalia’s shield saved her head from getting swiped off, at the very least, even if her spear was next to useless. Beckendorf shouted about weak points; she pulled out her silver daggers, gifts from Hera, and managed to put first one and then the other into the lion’s eyes. As it howled and thrashed, Beckendorf successfully tossed a small bottle of Greek Fire into the thing’s open mouth. After that explosion, everything burned except the golden pelt. Luke dared to get close to the last few flames and picked it up, before turning and offering the prize to their youngest questmate. “Anything gold, I’m handing to you,” the older boy joked, as Thalia checked her boot sheaths to make sure her daggers came back. “And besides, I barely did anything to win this fight.”

Risking a second passenger train got them to Denver. And then the quest took a weird turn.

Hmm... You might prove to be of some use after all...

A tall dude with some truly deep scars across his face stood on the platform where their train pulled up, holding a small whiteboard with Demigod Party of Three written on it. Luke and Thalia exchanged wary glances; Beckendorf just shrugged and picked up his bag. “May as well, right?”

They made their way off, and cautiously approached the guy.

“Excellent,” he said when the three of them got close. “There was a good chance you’d accept my assistance, but one never completely knows, with half-bloods.”

“What assistance?” Luke asked, ready to draw his sword at the drop of a hat.

“A ride, for one thing. Information, for another.”

Thalia snorted. “And what’s the cost?”

“Oh, nothing much,” the guy said, twisting his hands and making the whiteboard vanish. “Just some willing ears, and perhaps a promise not to mention my presence to any of your parents. No matter how many times I offer him advice, Zeus is always ready to threaten to chain me to a rock again should I step out of line.”

Beckendorf made a surprised noise. “Prometheus?”

“Indeed. Now come along, I’ve hired a car.” The Bringer of Fire turned and started making his way through the crowd without bothering to check if they were following. All three teens shared a baffled look, but did, reluctantly, set off after him.

Outside the station were some car rental services, a stand for taxi cabs, and a limousine service; Prometheus headed for the last. A seven foot tall dude should not have been able to neatly fold himself into the limo that waited, but Thalia blinked and he was in, posture relaxed as he gestured to the opposite seat. Beckendorf got in first, then Luke, and then her.

“Now then,” Prometheus said once their driver got rolling, “I’m certain you want to engage in the usual round of ‘what are you doing’ and ‘why should we listen to anything you say’, but perhaps I can head you off: what I am doing is helping, both your quest and your later chances of survival, and you should listen because I know exactly how dismal those chances are if you don’t.”

Luke shifted uneasily next to her. Thalia’s hand tightened around the can of mace that was her spear’s hidden form.

“So what’s your advice, then?” Beckendorf asked, a lot more calmly than either Thalia or Luke could have sounded.

“Abandon this fool’s errand. It’s not going to work regardless, but the sooner you quit and turn around, the less likely one of you dies beforehand.”

“Oh screw you,” Luke snapped. “My father gave me this quest, and maybe I don’t much like the guy, but I’m not going to just give up on proving to him I can accomplish it.”

“Even though it’s a task Hercules has already accomplished?”

Thalia saw her best friend’s nostrils flare, and she leaned in to press their shoulders together. “You gonna tell us something to actually back up that claim, or just expect us to believe you without proof?”

Prometheus sighed. “Always, it comes down to proof. What ever happened to faith, hm?”

“Lost it when I was seven,” Thalia said flatly.

“Hm.” Dark eyes regarded her for a long moment. “Fair enough, I suppose. Unfortunately, if I try to tell you what’s most likely to happen, your efforts to avoid it will bring about a worse ending.”

“And you care, because...?”

“Because you are a Daughter of Zeus,” Prometheus said flatly. “And you turn sixteen in less than a month’s time - if you live that long.”

Olympus to preserve or raze

Thalia refused to let any emotion onto her face.

“There are forces stirring, out of sight of the gods,” Prometheus went on, gaze never wavering. “Dangerous forces. I have seen some of what is to come, and can easily surmise the rest. You will have a choice to make very soon, Thalia Grace. The outcome of which will influence a great many things.”

“Y’know what I’m hearing, buddy? A whole lot of typical fortune-teller bull with vague indications that leave me spinning between a dozen theories in my head.” Thalia folded her arms and sat back. “I’m not buying it.”

“Your funeral, then.” One large hand reached up, and tapped the divider between them and the driver.

Ten minutes in the limo with Prometheus somehow translated into traveling over five hundred miles; he let them out in Salt Lake City with a final reminder that their quest was doomed, best to turn back, blah blah blah. Thalia wasn’t sure she believed him or not.

Wasn’t sure she wanted to believe him, really.

Beckendorf looked between her, uncomfortable and wary, and Luke, visibly gritting his teeth and fuming, and made the executive decision to find them a new ride.

Closer... That’s it... Every step brings you closer to my voice, my power... And farther from the parent who abandoned you... Abandoned your family... Wouldn’t you like... to inflict the same on him...?

Driving down the interstate in the back of a Greyhound bus might not have been the fastest option, but Thalia appreciated the extra time to sit and think, head resting against the window’s cool glass. One hand crept up to curl around the pair of pendants she always wore: a silver peacock feather from Hera, and a long narrow seashell from Poseidon, wrapped in bronze filigree.

They made it halfway through the desert towards Reno without trouble; then the monster attacks stepped up again.

Giant beasts. Hybrid critters. At one point a cyclops almost squashed Beckendorf; three hours later, a hydra nearly bit off Luke’s leg. Getting to Sacramento used up the last of the mortal money Chiron gave them back at camp, which was going to be a fun challenge to work around on their way home.

“We’ll figure something out,” Luke promised. “Right now I’m more worried about how much ambrosia we have left.”

Only a few squares, was the answer. The divine food could heal most injuries with just a bite or two, but they’d needed to eat practically their entire store getting across the country. Thalia eyed the plastic baggie holding them, glanced at Luke and Beckendorf, and zipped up her leather jacket as casually as possible. She could deal with a few scratches; they weren’t poisoned, and had already stopped bleeding anyway.

“Decision time,” Beckendorf announced, once they’d packed up and were ready to move again. “How are we getting down to San Francisco? Truck, train-”

“Why not water?”

In a split second, all three of them stood back to back with weapons in hand. A light, tinkling laugh came around the corner, and then a woman stepped into view. Thalia’s seashell pendant warmed against her chest.

“Peace, little half-bloods,” the woman smiled, holding out her empty palms. “My name is Pleione.”

“One of the Oceanids,” Thalia remembered. “Did Poseidon send you?”

“Well, he asked me to keep an eye out. I’m the one deciding to offer you a hand.” Pleione gestured behind her, where the road curved away from the Sacramento river. Which, if Thalia remembered the map right, was a straight shot down to San Francisco, the last stop before they headed for the Garden of the Hesperides.

“...y’know? I think we’ll take you up on that.”

Pleione turned out to have a specific power over sailing and mastery of her designated river. She escorted them down to a docked boat, and with only a few flicks of her fingertips set it to skimming across the water. Thalia and the boys dropped their bags on the deck and sat, more than ready to enjoy transportation that didn’t involve combat, or unwanted warnings, or trying to sit as close to smelly mortals as possible to hide from monsters.

The peace lasted up until the riverbanks broke away, the sailboat taking them out into a wider bay.

“It’s been a long time since I spoke with half-bloods,” Pleione said, walking up the deck with ease to stand beside Thalia. “Particularly one of your stature, Daughter of Zeus. Poseidon’s request rather took me by surprise, asking that I keep an eye out for you.”

“Yeah, well. I did him a big favor once.”

“So I’ve heard. And you earned Hera’s favor as well; an even greater feat.” She paused. “You must not care much for your father.”

Something twisted in Thalia’s stomach. “Not exactly a secret. A couple of shiny weapons when I was a kid don’t exactly make up for his other shit.”

Pleione hummed, looking out across the water ahead of them. “Understandable. I’ve spent eons listening to my sisters and our kin bemoan the whims of Zeus. It sometimes makes me wonder... does he truly deserve his position in our pantheon?”

The twisting got worse.

“Have you ever heard of a creature called the Ophiotaurus, Thalia Grace?” Pleione’s voice seemed to stretch, like she was hearing it from down a long tunnel. “An ancient beast, born from the chaotic energies of Gaia and Ouranos in their earliest days. It is prophesied that whoever kills the Ophiotaurus and sacrifices its entrails as an offering to the Titans will gain the power to overthrow the Olympians.”

A wave lifted the boat, high enough Thalia could see San Francisco in the distance, and the setting sun beyond it. Something rippled through the water, sunlight glinting off of scales.

“You could gain that power, child,” Pleione whispered, suddenly kneeling beside her, a hand smoothing over Thalia’s hair. “You could see your father deposed, finally punished for his crimes. A new era started, a golden age for all of us with ichor in our veins. Justice, Thalia. Justice for those who’ve suffered the worst under the Sky God’s reign. For everyone the Olympians have bullied and silenced and sacrificed without cause.”

Justice. For Thalia's childhood. For Percy’s mother.

For Jason.

...but it wasn’t Zeus who took Jason away.

The peacock pendant underneath her jacket suddenly burned, clearing the fog from Thalia’s mind. Her hand found one of the daggers hidden in her boot, and without thinking she grabbed it, twisted, and sank the silver blade into Pleione’s shoulder.

The oceanid screamed, and a wave washed over the edge of the boat, dragging Thalia away - and separating her from the boys, as they were thrown against the far side. “Insolent child,” Pleione snarled, suddenly looking way less friendly as she stood to her full height, golden ichor still bleeding down from the dagger in her shoulder. “I should have known you would still be infected by that stubborn loyalty to your father-”

“Like I give a damn about him,” Thalia snapped back, struggling to her feet against the rushing water trying to pin her down. Pain seared against her side, along with the telltale warmth of blood coming out of her re-opened scratches. Better to end this fight fast. “But you aren’t just talking about Zeus - you’re talking about all the gods, all of Olympus, and I am not signing up for that.”

Pleione glared down at her, perfectly at ease on the wildly rolling deck. “Then you will die.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before. Luke!”

She expected him to throw a knife, their usual tactic, but Thalia’s best friend only jerked his head up to stare at her, eyes wide. For a split second, she felt real fear - and then Beckendorf stepped up, launching his hammer end over end towards Pleione. Just before it could collide with the oceanid, Thalia called down the lightning.

Getting struck by a supercharged chunk of metal managed to hurt even a divine being, and Pleione shrieked at the impact. Her summoned waves stilled briefly; Thalia used the moment’s respite to bring out her spear and shield, and leapt forward to continue the fight-

-only to almost topple headfirst into the water, when Pleione straight up vanished. Her power lingered, though. Choppy waves continued to surge, knocking the boat around and sending walls of water to crash into them every few seconds. Thalia scrambled to recover her footing, barely managing to duck the swinging beam of the sail.

“Should we jump?” Beckendorf shouted, hauling Luke up with the older boy’s arm around his shoulder. Thalia didn’t know what was wrong with her best friend; she couldn’t see any blood, didn’t know if he’d hit his head on something, but either way Luke was only staring and shaking.

Scales shimmered in the water.

She scrambled to grab the edge of the railing, and leaned over as much as she dared. “Hey! Ophi-whatever you are! Got a deal for ya, one time offer!” Short rounded horns broke the surface, and dark eyes peered up from a baby cow’s face. Thalia didn’t let the weirdness throw her. “Give my friends a ride out of here, I’ll keep your guts from going in the fire!”

Luke must have heard her, because his eyes finally focused and locked onto Thalia. “What- Thali, no-!”

“Get out of here,” she ordered, looking only at Beckendorf. “I’ll keep her busy!”

The boy nodded, and as soon as horns came out of the water on their side of the boat, he threw himself over the railing with an arm still wrapped around Luke’s waist. Thalia ignored the panicked yelling; she ducked under the swinging sail again, headed for the front of the boat, and raised her spear in challenge.

“PLEIONE!” She shouted, thunder echoing underneath. “You think a bumpy ride and some water is gonna be enough to kill me? Me?! Come back here and give me a real fight!”

The wind roared.

The waves rose.

And the sailboat flipped over.

Chapter Text

What is broken but hidden, healed by gold
Or fractured worse by silver gone cold
An offered task, the final resort
And a promise kept by unexpected port

Drifting

Water at her back

Wind on her face

Pressure

Arms around her

Fingers against her cheek

Words

Island, safety, not long

Her sacrifice, her choice

My stubborn daughter...

Two teenage boys stand on a low pier, angry waves crashing against the stone and wood beneath their feet. One keeps anxiously glancing around; out over the water, at the land behind them, towards his companion. The second only looks straight ahead, glaring at the storm that rages over the bay.

His hand clenches around a single silver knife.

“We can’t stay here,” the first boy mutters. “Do we go to the Garden? Or try to get back to camp?” Wind whips through the air, shaking more water droplets from their drenched clothing. “Luke. What’s the game plan?”

“...my father wants an apple,” the second finally answers, turning to look at his companion with a wild, grieving anger. “He is getting his damn apple. And I hope he chokes on it.”

Something solid underneath her

Water around her legs, then not, then back again

Footsteps coming closer

A hand across her brow

A hand pressing to her side-

Pain

“Shh, it’s alright,” a soft voice, close and reassuring. “Just rest. You’re safe here.”

Coils upon coils of scaled muscle

Dozens of dragon heads piled atop one another, eyes shut and sleeping

A single teenager creeping closer, sword in hand, gaze locked on the tree ahead, the glints of gold half-hidden by leaves

A single dragon eye slides open

She groans

The hand comes back

Softness underneath her, around her

Pressure against the wound on her side, a dull ache but not agony

“Your fever’s gone down,” the voice says, fingers shifting upward to stroke her hair. “I expect you’ll wake in a day or two.”

Not soon enough. Not soon enough to warn him-

Blood

Tears

One boy dragging away the other, ignoring his struggles, his screams, his curses

There is a severed dragon’s claw clutched in the wounded boy’s hand

There is no golden apple

Thalia jerked upright.

She almost lunged off the small bed, fully ready to get to Luke and Beckendorf, to cover their retreat, but then reality caught up.

Natural stone walls. Ground covered in sand. The echo of nearby ocean waves.

Shit.

Spotting her leather jacket folded up on a nearby chair, Thalia got her feet on the floor and shuffled over. She found the rest of her clothes and weapons underneath, thankfully, including the pendants from Hera and Poseidon. No shoes, which meant her daggers were gone, but the bracelets and can of mace that became her close range weapons were still present.

Suitably dressed and armed, she eased her way out of the small cave.

In short order it opened into a much larger space, with more furniture, and plenty of glowing crystals on the walls for light. And a girl, too.

Thalia stopped and stared.

“You’re just in time for lunch,” the other teenager called, not turning around from where she was stirring a large pot over the fire. “Bowls and spoons are on the table to your left.”

“I’d rather have answers first,” Thalia said. The words came out raspy, like she hadn’t spoken in a while, and she needed to cough afterward to clear her throat.

“To be expected.” The girl stood from her stool, and turned around. She wore an old school, plain white dress, plus a circlet to hold back the loose hair not contained by a long braid. Pretty, Thalia supposed, but she focused more on the expression of curiosity. “Do you know, you’re the first hero to ever wash up here who isn’t male?”

Thalia wasn’t sure yet if she was a monster or a goddess, but after Pleione’s unexpected attack... “Yeah? Maybe you need better advertising for overboard heroes.”

“Hardly. I tend to whoever the gods send me, no more, no less.” She tipped her head to one side, a few loose strands of hair falling over one eye. “What’s your name?”

“...Thalia Grace. Daughter of Zeus.”

The girl’s eyebrows leapt upward. “Huh. And Poseidon didn’t drown you?”

If you agree, and get Percy safely to camp, you will never need fear the oceans again

“He owed me a favor,” Thalia answered automatically, suddenly feeling a little light-headed.

“Apparently a big one. Sit down before you fall over, and I’ll bring you some stew. Oh,” the girl added over her shoulder as she turned back to the cooking pot, “And I am Calypso. Welcome to Ogygia, Thalia Grace.”

A taxi waits at the bottom of the mountain. A god stands in front of it.

The boy with bloody gauze taped to his face stalks forward, shoves the dragon claw into his father’s chest. Spits out, “It’s better than nothing, right?”

“Luke-”

“Don’t. Don’t start. Not here.” He flings a hand out, gesturing towards the visible bay, calmer than when the storm raged. “It wasn’t enough for my mother to lose her mind, huh? You had to take my best friend too?!”

The god only looks at him, face impassive.

The boy shakes.

“...I’m going to give you both a ride back to camp.”

“Fine,” the boy bites out, stepping around him to the cab.

The god closes his eyes, and holds out the dragon claw when the second teen comes closer. “Here. This is his trophy.”

The younger boy stares at it, accepting the claw, then glances up into the god’s face. “I think he’d rather have Thalia back.”

“I know.”

“So where’s the nearest port?” Thalia asked when she next woke up, back in her guest bed with no memory of returning to it. Calypso stood on the other side of the cave, setting up some kind of wooden contraption that looked vaguely familiar. “Not that I don’t appreciate the room service, but-” My best friend got hurt and I wasn’t there to watch his back, to warn him that the damn dragon was waking up- “I’ve got things to do, people to see, you know how it is.”

“I don’t, really,” Calypso replied, not even bothering to face her. “Know how it is. There aren’t any other people on this island; only myself, and my servants.” She gestured, towards the faint shimmer of motion made by something invisible carrying in some thick bundles of thread. “And the only things I 'need' to do are what I decide to do, in order to pass the time.”

Unease curled through Thalia’s gut. “Right. Prison island. So- I’m stuck here too.”

“...for now. The gods may have sent you here, but it’s not up to them when or if you leave.”

“Does that mean it’s up to you, instead?” Thalia asked, eyes narrowing.

Calypso did turn then, looking her straight in the eye. “Yes. But not in a way I can control.” And she turned back to the loom, slender fingers arranging the vertical strings of thread just so, before starting to work the wooden components to swiftly weave together a new piece of fabric.

Thalia just sat against her pillows, and watched in silence.

Two children come racing down the path.

“Luke!” The boy in front calls, one arm waving. “Tha-” He trips, both arms abruptly pinwheeling, but manages to keep his balance until sliding to a stop in front of the frozen teen. “Where’s Thalia? Did you guys do it?”

The teen says nothing, only stares down at him with a stiff, strangled expression. The second child skids up to them, grabbing onto the first, her face already changing from joy to wariness. Her friend continues to only look expectant.

“...no,” the teen finally tells them, “We didn’t get an apple.” He keeps his words low, moving his lips as little as possible, not pulling on the still-red scar curling down across one cheek.

“Oh.”

“Luke,” the girl speaks up, eyes locked onto him. “Where’s Thalia?”

“These are closing up nicely,” Calypso said, tracing a hand over the three scratches that curled around Thalia’s waist. “When you first got here, they were infected, and badly inflamed.”

“...when was that?” Thalia asked, not looking at her, trying not to jump from the contact of another person’s fingers on her bare skin. “How long have I been here?”

“Almost two weeks now.”

Her eyes slid shut, jaw clenching tight. “You can’t even send Iris messages from this place, can you?”

“I’m afraid not, no.”

“She’s not dead,” the boy insists, with a tone that isn’t so much emotional as determined, entirely convinced of his correctness. “Beckendorf said Thalia went into the water, and they were in the bay by then, not the river! My dad wouldn’t have let anything happen to her!”

The centaur looming over him sighs, and then steps back, hooves and hindquarters going into the magic of his wheelchair, form condensing and shifting until he looks like a regular human sitting in the contraption. “Percy... It is not up to us to know why the gods do or do not intervene on quests-”

“Don’t act like I’m being stupid,” the boy interrupts, frowning. “Or- or being a dumb kid who doesn’t know any better. I do know better. But I also know, Dad promised.”

Sighing again, the centaur leans forward, taking hold of his small shoulders. “At this point, Percy, with no word from the gods and no sign of Thalia, we simply don’t know.”

The boy just frowns harder.

Exercise became the order of the day, once she got enough strength back to be able to stand and walk around without risk of fainting. Calypso’s meals were warm and filling, her central cave and the woods and beaches outside had plenty of space, so in short order Thalia started going for runs, lifting rocks over her head and doing squats with logs across her shoulders. None of it could be called fun, but she needed to get some muscle mass back - and it wasn’t like there was anything else to do.

No monsters to fight. Nobody to spar with. No friends or little cousins to drag into headlocks and dump on their butts.

At first, Calypso ignored her, sticking to whatever it was she filled her days with. But then Thalia noticed she had an audience one morning, while doing lunges across the beach. Every step she sank fully down, until each knee just kissed the sand, arms outstretched to either side with a rock balanced in both palms. Practically every muscle in her body was loudly complaining, but on a whim Thalia went an extra couple of lunges, then straightened, turned, and dropped the rocks in order to flex her arms. “Am I putting on a good show?”

At the edge of the trees, Calypso’s face promptly flushed red, and she vanished back towards her cave.

...huh.

It wasn’t like Thalia hadn’t noticed people staring before, particularly in the past year when she really started to add definition to her biceps and thighs, but they generally didn’t turn and run when she called them out on it. The first time, the son of Ares who’d been watching puffed out his chest and swaggered forward, challenging Thalia to a fight like that was the only thing on his mind. She smacked him down in less than three minutes. And even faster that evening, when he caught her on the way to bed and tried to kiss her, surprising Thalia so much she instinctively punched him in the solar plexus.

Still got to go on her first date, though.

After that a couple of Aphrodite kids made a point of lingering whenever she came down to the arena to spar or work out, a boy and then a girl, and Thalia felt flattered enough to go on a date with each of them too. But it wasn’t really... something she noticed, or acted on. They all needed to make the first moves, or else she’d just keep on with her own thing. Luke tried to ask her about it at one point, if she was really interested in romance, in finding someone to be with, and the best she could answer was with a shrug.

Let’s see if I reach sixteen against all odds, first, she’d said, tossing him a spear so they could run drills together. And then I’ll decide if I want to kiss anyone or not.

A reasonable plan, really. But six months later, trapped on a small island with no idea of when or if she’d get to go back to Camp Half-Blood, back home, Thalia wondered if maybe she should have given romance a bigger try after all.

Knives glint in the moonlight.

No one else is in the arena besides the girl, throwing one small blade after another at a row of targets. Her face is set, fingers steady, each knife landing exactly where she aims.

Tears spill unchecked from the corners of her eyes.

With the last blade thrown, she goes up to the targets and starts yanking them back out to go again. When movement flickers in the arena entrance, pure instinct has her grab a handle, tug, turn, and launch the knife. It hits stone, only inches in front of a satyr, who flinches back but doesn’t otherwise react.

The girl freezes. “Grover?”

“Uh. Hey.” He shuffles in place. “How- are you doing?” As soon as the words leave his mouth, the satyr shakes his head, grimacing. “No, wait, stupid question- can I, uh. Can I do anything?”

For a moment, the girl doesn’t say anything. “...Thalia’s gone.”

“I know.”

“Luke is- hurting,” she goes on, each word coming out slow, disjointed. “Percy- I think, Percy is- he won’t accept it. And I- I don’t know-” Her whole face wobbles, and her shoulders hunch. “I don’t know what to do.”

The satyr takes a step closer. Then a second, and a third, until he reaches the girl, and holds his arms out in silent invitation. It takes a few seconds, but when the first sob breaks free, she falls into the offered hug.

“Here.”

Thalia looked up just in time to get a face-full of fabric. Barely any force behind the impact, but the surprise still managed to make her slip and fall off the rock she’d been sitting on. “Hey!” Muffled laughter. She yanked the bundle of cloth away in order to see Calypso with a hand pressed over her smile, eyes crinkled at the corners. With her butt on the ground and both legs still hooked over the rock, Thalia pointed a finger at the other girl’s face. “Not funny. Hilarious, but not funny.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Calypso replied, hand coming down to rest on her hip. “I think it’s amusing, if nothing else.” But at least she proved to be a good sport, stepping closer and offering a hand.

Thalia decided to be a stinker instead, grabbing that hand and yanking, causing Calypso to tumble down with a yelp. She landed in a sprawl across Thalia’s lap, face promptly turning red again. “So, remind me. I know you were one of the stops for Odysseus on his journey home, but I don’t remember whatever task he fulfilled to leave again.”

And just like that, Calypso’s amusement vanished, and her gaze cut away. “It- wasn’t anything he did. Besides insisting he needed to go.”

“Yeah?” Thalia tipped her head to one side. “Well, I’ve got two ten years olds and a best friend and a bunch of other people waiting on me, who think I’m dead, so consider me insistent.” She dropped her good humor too, voice turning cold. “I. Need. To leave.”

“If it were that simple you’d be gone already,” Calypso snapped back, and she started shoving at Thalia’s arms and shoulders, making enough room to stand up and dust off her dress. “I'm going to fix dinner. You can come join me, or you’re more than welcome to stay out here and I’ll send a bowl.”

For the first time since she got to Ogygia, Thalia not only ate by herself, but slept outside on the sand too.

Early the next morning, she turned sixteen years old.

Chapter Text

Waves crash against the beach.

It’s familiar. There are small buildings further up the dunes, no lights on inside. Vacation rentals or something, maybe; they didn’t look fancy enough to be the kind of beachfront property rich people would buy-

Movement flickers.

A boy slides down from the dunes lining the beach, and runs towards the water.

He shouldn’t be there. He shouldn’t be alone.

Even so, he keeps going until he’s in the surf, water curling around his knees in welcome. The boy takes a deep breath, staring out to sea, and speaks. “Dad, I need to talk to you. I know you must be busy with something important, but I really, really need to - a-and you said our connection’s strongest when I’m in the ocean, so you have to be able to hear me now, right? Dad?”

There’s no answer.

“Please,” the boy whispers, rapidly blinking as tears start to fill his eyes. “You protected her, I know you did, but- it’s been a whole month, and I just- you’re going to send Thalia home soon, aren’t you?” Only the rushing waves make any sound on the otherwise empty beach. “Dad, please! They- they held a funeral for her yesterday, and Chiron asked if I could pack up her stuff, and it’s not okay, Dad!” His voice breaks. His hands shake. “I’m n-not okay. Please. Please give Thalia back.”

A deep hissing starts up.

The boy flinches, spins around. Down the same path his feet left in the sand, a huge snake slithers closer, eyes glowing and locked onto him. One hand flies to his pocket, and he pulls out a pen; with the cap flicked off, it grows into a sword, perfectly sized for his hands.

He’s small enough the snake could swallow him whole.

He needs to run, but of course he doesn’t.

Sword held up, feet braced, the water starts to curl around him like a living protector, and he yells in wordless challenge. The snake hisses back, and lifts its head to tower over him in answer.

And that’s when the dagger hits it in one eye.

She didn’t see Calypso for two days after their breakdown in negotiations; when the other girl finally came to seek her out, she found Thalia in the middle of punching trees.

It seemed like a reasonable way to work out, at first. Maybe even make some firewood, if she broke enough of them to pieces. But after the first hour, as her punches went wilder, as the skin on her knuckles split and tore, it just turned into a convenient, painful way to vent her rage.

Calypso stopped and watched from the edge of the newly-enlarged clearing for a while. Eventually, though, she must have moved, because Thalia went from snarling and hitting a particularly stubborn tree to being caught in an unexpectedly firm grip. “Enough,” Calypso said, holding onto her wrists and staring straight into Thalia’s eyes. “Enough. You’re hurt.”

“I- don’t- fucking care,” Thalia gasped, chest heaving with each breath. Calypso’s grip tightened. It didn’t register, not until Thalia tried to pull her hands away but couldn’t.

“I do,” the other girl said simply.

In a supreme show of restraint - or possibly just exhaustion - Thalia allowed herself to be led back to the cave, to have the blood washed off her hands, each carefully wrapped in soft bandages afterward. When Calypso finished, she kept on sitting and staring at them. “...who are you grieving for?”

Thalia’s eyes slid shut. “Percy. My little cousin. He did- something stupid. And then something stupider. And I- I don’t know-” I don’t know if he’s still alive. Won’t know, unless I dream again. I don’t know if I want to. She couldn’t bring herself to say any of it out loud.

Slender fingers gently traced up her palms, over her aching wrists and forearms, pausing on a couple of small scars from Thalia’s days on the road. “You must love him a great deal.”

“He’s an annoying little twerp who begged me to climb a tree to get his favorite discus back, when he knows how much I hate heights.” Thalia choked out a bite of laughter, eyes reluctantly opening again. “Poseidon’s his father. Zeus killed his mom three years ago. I’ve been looking out for him ever since.”

“And you want to get back to him.”

“I have to.” Her eyes lifted, meeting Calypso’s sad gaze. “I have to. Please.”

They continued to stare at one another for a long, aching moment, and then something in the other girl’s expression shifted. Just slightly. Calypso slowly leaned forward, and Thalia didn’t realize what was happening until the other girl’s lips gently pressed a kiss to her own.

“No one can leave Ogygia,” she whispered, still leaning close, “Unless I fall in love with them.”

Oh.

“...shit.”

Calypso took her turn letting out a short, bitter bite of laughter, and leaned back. “Indeed. It’s the crueler piece of my punishment by far.”

Thalia tried to scrub a hand across her face, only to abort the motion halfway through with a hiss of pain. “Why are the gods always like this?”

“Their whims are their own. And I never forget, it could have been worse. But enough of that-'' Calypso stood, hooking an arm around Thalia’s to pull her up as well. “-I’ve decided to experiment with a new recipe today, and since your hands are officially on bedrest you get to be my taste tester.”

Raising an eyebrow, Thalia went along willingly. “...is this flirting? Or an attempt to poison me?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, won’t you?”

“Ha.”

Two children sit on a beach in the rain.

Gouges in the ground and great heaps of thrown sand distort the landscape around them, but neither looks seriously hurt. Just wet. There’s no sign of the huge snake.

“You should have told me you were coming,” the girl says, eyes firmly on her lap.

The boy sighs, reluctant, head tipped back as droplets roll down his face. “Yeah. I should’ve. How’d you figure it out?”

“You never eat much at dinner when you’re planning something. And you went back to your cabin super early for the night.”

They lapse into silence. Rain drums against the sand. The waves continue to roll in. “...my dad won’t talk to me.”

The girl looks up with a frown. Above them, the storm is dying down, heavy rain easing to a light drizzle. “Well, he’s not just ignoring you. I don’t think we would have killed that snake if it was still able to smell our positions.”

“But if he’s watching, and he’s not too busy to send a storm, then why won’t he come see me?” That awful grief is back in the boy’s voice. “If I did something wrong-”

“No,” the girl interrupts, grabbing onto his arm, understanding dawning across her face. “It’s not you. And it’s not him either - Beckendorf said that Oceanid who tried to make Thalia turn on the gods took them by surprise, right? So what if Poseidon and Zeus are worried someone else would try to make her do the same, before they could find out and intervene?” She scrambles to her feet, gesturing at both the sea and the sky before whirling around and pointing at the boy’s face. “So to make sure no one tries again, they have to let everyone think Thalia’s dead! Even us! That’s why your dad won’t talk to you!”

Thunder rumbles above them, making the boy flinch. And then the waves shift, breaking their pattern, and he’s also getting to his feet, running to the figure suddenly walking out of the water towards them.

“Annabeth Chase,” the newly arrived god sighs, arms already wrapping around his son as the kid crashes into him. “You are entirely too clever for your own good.”

The girl just jerks her chin up. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“You are. But you cannot let anyone else know, not until it’s safe for Thalia to return.”

“She’s okay?” The boy asks, muffled, face buried in his father’s shirt.

One hand cards through his drenched curls, drying them instantly, as the second reaches out for the other child. “She will be. Now come along; even strong half-bloods like you two are liable to catch colds the longer you stay out in this.”

Thalia finally woke up without feeling like her heart was about to tear in two.

She stayed put for a long minute, staring up at the stone ceiling overhead. Percy was okay. Annabeth figured it out. And even keeping his distance, Poseidon protected them, covering while Thalia herself couldn’t.

If nothing else, she knew the twerps would be alright.

Eventually, she dragged herself out of bed, dressed, and headed out into the main cave to see what Calypso was up to. It came as a surprise to find the other girl not fixing or eating breakfast, as Thalia would have assumed, but packing up a genuine wicker basket, like something out of a sixties sitcom.

Thalia just stopped and stared for a minute, until being noticed by Calypso, and then an impatient gesture drew her forward. “Carry this,” the girl demanded, picking up the basket and dropping it into Thalia’s hastily outstretched arms. It turned out to only barely be lighter than the rocks she’d been using as exercise weights out on the beach.

Calypso picked up two folded bundles of cloth, and made another gesture to get Thalia to follow her out of the cave entirely.

They went down the main path to the beach, turned left, and went along the treeline until Calypso found whatever she’d been looking for. One bundle dropped to the ground; the other she unfurled in a single rolling toss, the light fabric caught and pulled by the breeze. It didn’t fly anywhere when she let it go; rather, Thalia spotted the faint flickers of motion that indicated the presence of Calypso’s invisible spirit servants, who carried the sheet up and over a long, nearly horizontal branch from the nearest tree.

The second bundle got unfurled in the same manner, but then Calypso draped it across the ground, directly under the overhead sheet. “Here,” she announced, holding out a hand for the basket. “Give me that so I can finish setting up, and since you like moving rocks so much, fetch some to weigh this down.”

Thalia blinked. First at her, then the two big squares of cloth. And slowly, a grin spread across her face. “As you wish.”

Calypso’s face only turned a little pink as Thalia gave her the basket, but it managed to flush darker by the time she finished hefting up and carrying over a selection of pale stones to line the edges of the hanging sheet. Soon enough, they had a nice cozy tent to sit inside, with a view of the ocean out one side and a prettier section of forest on the other.

The basket turned out to hold breakfast, to the relief of Thalia’s stomach. Calypso set out still-warm plates of food, and they tucked in together, sitting beside as they looked out at the waves.

“...I could get used to this,” Thalia eventually said. She didn’t miss how Calypso went stiff beside her. “Had another dream, last night. Poseidon came clean with the pipsqueaks, so they know I’m not dead. They’re not- well. They’re probably still hurting, but at least they know why, now, and Percy doesn’t think his dad’s ignoring him either.”

“That’s, good,” Calypso offered.

“Yeah. It is.” Thalia took another bite. “It’s not great, but. I’m not going to go punch any more trees, at this point.”

The other girl nodded. “Now that is a definite improvement.”

“What, don’t want me doing any extra landscaping for you?” Thalia held out for all of three seconds, until Calypso turned and arched an eyebrow, and then she burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, I won’t, I promise.”

“Good,” came the prim response. So of course Thalia reached over to hook an arm around her host, and tug Calypso into a one-armed hug, causing her to scramble awkwardly and protest.

They ended up staying like that, sitting with their sides pressed together, longer than Thalia intended. But it was, nice. And she’d been honest, before: she could get used to it.

She just didn’t want to.

Dawn across the strawberry fields and training grounds. Movement as security retired until their next shift, as pegasi stirred in their paddocks, as satyrs and campers began to stir and go about the day.

But one figure stood apart.

Four-legged, with a brace around one knee and wearing a tailored suit on his upper body, Chiron waited, and watched. Watched as a youth emerged alone from the forest hiding the cabins from view, stalking his way down the wide path towards the arena. No other child of Hermes accompanied their grieving brother, nor did the children of any other gods chase after him.

Only his tail swishing betrayed Chiron’s unease, as he gazed after Luke Castellan.

The tipping point came two weeks after Thalia’s birthday.

She and Calypso were in the middle of- well, not technically tag, but definitely some sort of chasing game. One where they were both laughing, and tearing up and down the beach, until Thalia pretended to trip and topple over with a dramatic yelp. Calypso fell for it, immediately hurrying back to her, at which point Thalia caught her legs and pulled the other girl down, rolling with the motion so she came out on top.

“I win,” she announced cheerfully, blood still singing with the thrill of movement. Calypso continued to giggle, both of them looking into each other’s eyes - until an odd look passed over her face, and she leaned up to press another featherlight kiss on Thalia’s lips.

“You win,” she agreed softly.

“So do I get something extra nice with dinner as a reward, or do I need to lay down and pin you here a while longer?” Calypso’s face turned pink, despite her smile. Thalia re-ran those words through her head, and winced. “I mean-”

“I know what you meant, Thalia Grace. And what you feel.” Slender fingers brushed against her collarbone, where it was visible past the loose neckline of Thalia’s shirt. “And I know it’s- not the same sort of desire most feel.”

“...what about what you feel?”

That odd look came back. It made Calypso’s eyes actually seem- well. Older than the teenage girl she pretended to be. “My feelings haven’t mattered in a very long time.”

“Bullshit,” Thalia shot back, quiet but firm. “Everyone’s feelings matter. Maybe there isn’t a lot you can do with them, or about them, but they matter.” Her throat grew tight, but she added regardless, “You matter, Calypso.”

A long moment stretched between them. And then Calypso pushed herself up onto her elbows, and gave Thalia a longer, deeper kiss, like she’d made up her mind about something.

When she finally pulled back, it was with a sad smile.

Something scraped against the sand.

Ah... So the child didn’t perish after all... Pity.

Perhaps the next will be... more pliable...

The raft somehow managed to go from saltwater to fresh while it drifted through the Mist, and Thalia found herself disembarking on the lakeshore at Camp Half Blood.

For the first minute, she only stood there, staring. Half a dozen canoes were neatly lined up by the edge of the small beach; she could hear owls in the trees, the distant screeches of the harpy cleaning crew. It didn’t seem- real. Not after however many days-weeks-months spent on Ogygia.

But the raft showed up. And Calypso barely let her get in two words before shoving Thalia onto it, announcing that it was time for her to go. The raft pulled itself back off the sand of its own accord, giving Thalia just a split second to grab something from one of her jacket pockets and toss it to Calypso: a silver lighter. A mortal-made lighter, not magic, not something she’d gotten from any god.

Just a lighter, taken off her mother’s dresser the night before Thalia ran away.

Beauty without Grace is the hook without the bait, read the inscription on the back. Some old quote, though Thalia didn’t know from where. She also didn’t know if her mother had been the one to have it engraved, or if it was a gift from someone else, or what. She’d only known it was important enough for Beryl Grace to keep close, on display, where it could be seen each morning and every night.

Thalia used it to start small campfires, while living on the road. Since getting to camp, only to burn the small offerings she and Percy made privately, to his mom, to her brother. Important fires.

And yet she tossed it to Calypso without a second thought.

Maybe it wouldn’t mean anything, besides a memento with her name on it. But she hoped the other girl would keep it regardless.

“I happen to be the one who gave that trinket to your mother, in case you didn’t know.”

Slowly, Thalia turned her head, just enough to look from the corner of her eye at the man standing a few steps away, dressed in a fancy, immaculate suit, not a speck of sand to be seen on his shiny leather shoes.

She took a deep breath, and started walking.

“Thalia-” Yep, there was the crackle of lightning in his voice, the sharp retort of thunder beneath it. “Thalia. Stop.”

She halted.

But didn’t turn around.

A sigh.

And- footsteps.

Zeus stopped when he stood beside her, both of them looking up into the quiet trees. A small part of Thalia’s mind wondered if she’d end up growing as tall as him. “You have given me great cause to be proud, my daughter. But there is a limit to how much insolence that pride can counterbalance.”

And just like that, her old anger clawed its way to the surface. “So strike me down, then,” Thalia bit out. “Right here, right now. Everybody already thinks I’m dead, right? No big deal to make it the truth-”

His hand landed on her shoulder, and the words died in Thalia’s mouth.

“My daughter,” Zeus repeated, softer than before.

Neither of them said anything else for a few minutes.

Until, “Will you see the cabin?” She didn’t need to ask which one he meant. “I will not- trouble you, any further, if you do.”

“...fine.”

They walked in silence. Even through the darkness, heavier than usual with thick cloud cover, Thalia knew the way. Zeus never took his hand off her shoulder.

She tried not to dwell on that fact.

Finally, the two of them reached the ring of cabins, dim flames flickering from open doorways and porches. A single light glowed from Hera’s cabin, as always; the magical brazier inside didn’t need tending or fresh fuel to maintain its fire. Usually there would be a pair of lanterns glowing on either side of the door for Poseidon’s cabin, but when she strode past, Thalia only saw the one lit.

She wondered if that was a deliberate choice on Percy’s part, or if he’d gotten interrupted pouring some more sacred oil into the second lantern. Usually that was her chore, being the taller of them. And then there wasn’t time to consider it anymore, as her feet hit wood. Zeus led her up the three steps and through the door that opened of its own accord, and a series of lights came to life down the length of the room. Up front, a pair of braziers. Wrought-iron lanterns overhead. Actual light bulbs along the back wall, which Thalia hadn’t thought existed in camp at all, even if these looked like antiques.

Zeus took his hand back, and Thalia idly wandered around, looking. Taking it all in.

Trunks and boxes rested around the edges of the room, some labeled with names, some not. There weren’t any bunks, like the inhabited cabins. But she could still see all the kids who’d come and gone, in the other things they left behind.

Small, hand-painted model planes hung from the rafters in one corner, at least twenty of them. Maps and weather charts tacked up onto the wall between two tall windows. Three mismatched chairs sitting around a small circular table, the closed box of a fancy chess set on top, with some other games she didn’t recognize stored on the lower shelf beneath. Opposite the charts, also between two windows, was a gorgeous series of paintings on canvas, arranged like the birds depicted in them were flying upwards together. Shelves along the back wall held art supplies, craft materials, a few glinting scales and claws re-fashioned to be useful tools.

Slowly, she walked down the length of the cabin and back. Came to a stop in front of Zeus. If he’d made the mistake of smiling at her, or looking expectant, Thalia probably would have kept on going out the door.

But he only watched her with a blank expression.

Normally, Thalia would scoff. Or growl. Or share some form of anger, but she just... couldn’t muster it. Not like she used to, snarling at the drop of a hat. Not after spending so long on Calypso’s island, stressed and anxious to leave, and right when she finally felt able to calm down and just relax, oop, time to go without a moment’s warning.

So Thalia only looked up at her father with a similar blankness. “Did you catch Pleione?”

Light flickered in his eyes, a there and gone indication of his own anger. “No. She has vanished beyond the reach of the sky, into ocean water so deep and dark even Poseidon cannot easily search it.”

Thalia nodded. “Is it safe for me to be back?”

“...I don’t know,” Zeus eventually answered, sounding annoyed at himself even as he said it. “The window may be closed, with your birthday well and passed. Or it may not, and your return will herald the rise of some new attempt at rebellion.”

“Right. Prophecies aren’t clear until they’ve come to pass, and all that bullshit.”

Her father snorted, once, as inelegant a sound as Thalia had ever made herself. “Indeed.”

“...can I ask you a question?” Zeus turned wary, but gave her a single, sharp nod. “Did you know what was going to happen to Jason?”

It wasn’t like he’d been moving, but with Thalia’s words, the king of the gods went utterly, wholly stock still. She didn’t know if divine beings actually bothered to breathe when in their human shapes, but his chest didn’t rise or fall, his face didn’t twitch, and even his flickering eyes remained completely unmoving for several long, stretching seconds. “No,” he eventually answered, the word so quiet Thalia wouldn’t have been able to hear it with even a fraction less silence around them. “I did not know.”

She made herself swallow through a suddenly tight throat. “If- if you did- would you have stopped it?”

He hesitated. “Thalia-”

“I’m not asking if you could have,” she said, abruptly loud and abruptly fast, a dam finally breaking under pressure, “I’m asking if the stars aligned or the Fates allowed or whatever bullshit loophole you’d needed to excuse stepping in was there, would you have stopped my mother from handing him over?”

Would you have saved him, like Poseidon saved Percy?

She didn’t say that part out loud.

She didn’t need to.

Zeus continued to look pained, until his gaze slid away, and he whispered in the stillness, “No.”

That single word punched harder than a cyclops. Thalia could feel her entire face wobble, could feel the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “Right. Got it. Message received loud and c-clear.”

And she walked past him, out the door, away from the cabins entirely. Thalia walked until she found a nice deep patch of dark forest, curled up at the base of a tree, and cried until she fell asleep.

(Thousands of miles away, in a different hidden, sacred valley, a ten year old boy tosses in his sleep, frowning, dreaming about a wild little bolt of lightning tearing through the heart of a vast stormcloud and breaking it to pieces.)

Thalia didn’t wake up until a beam of sunlight broke through the leaves to settle on her face, and proved too irritating to ignore. She sat up with a grumble, scrubbing one hand over the top of her head and the other across her cheeks.

For a few moments, the girl just- stayed there. Stared at the forest around her. Tried not to think about finally, finally, properly meeting her father in person, and being overwhelmingly disappointed. Even the handful of distant, little kid memories of him coming to see her mother a few times before Jason was born couldn’t compare to the new letdown. Zeus hadn’t ever said a word to Thalia then - she wished he hadn’t bothered to try and say anything this time around, either.

With a deep sigh, Thalia put out a hand to push herself up from the nook of tree roots she’d slept in. Her bare fingers hit metal.

It took a minute, but she managed to make herself grab the small object and take a look. Not the same lighter she’d given to Calypso, taken from her mother (apparently given to her mother by her father). Nearly identical, but not the same, not with different words engraved across the otherwise plain surface. She ran her thumb back and forth over the new inscription. Part of her wanted to toss the lighter as hard as possible, let it land and be lost amongst the trees and undergrowth.

No greater Grace than the candle standing steady against the dark

Thalia pocketed it, instead.