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Chapter Text

Spun. 

Measured. 

Cut. 

Spun. 

Measured. 

Cut. 

Spun. 

Measured.

Cut. 

"A half-blood of the eldest gods
shall reach sixteen against all odds. 
And see the world in endless sleep,
the hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap. 
A single choice to end his days, 
Olympus to preserve or raze." 

Spun. 

Measured- 

"I swear on the Styx not to sire any more half-bloods," Hades swears. 

THUNDER BOOMS ACROSS A CLOUDLESS SKY, THE STYX IS FURIOUS- 

"I swear on the Styx not to sire any more half-bloods," Poseidon swears. 

LIGHTNING SPLITS THE SKY AND THE SEAS RISE  LIKE A VENGEFUL TIDE-

"I swear on the Styx not to sire any more half-bloods," Zeus swears. 

THE STYX FLOODS ITS BANKS THE GROUND SHAKES AND THE DEAD TREMBLE- 

Seventy years of weaving and they have finally undone the snarl that results from having an unbreakable oath colliding with an unmoveable destiny. 

Clotho spins. 

Thalia Grace is born. 

Perseus Jackson is born. 

Nico and Bianca di Angelo are prepared to be released from their prison where they are frozen in time.

Lachesis measures.

Thalia becomes immortalized as a pine tree. 

Hades undoes their machinations to free Nico and Bianca. 

Perseus turns seven years old. Zeus discovers his existence and sends a storm- 

Atropos cuts- 

NO! 

The sisters back away from the tapestry in horror. 

They have miscalculated- they have not undone the snarl, they have made it worse and now it threatens to unravel the entire tapestry. 

Chaos opens his maw.

He feels how weak the tapestry of Fate has become. It will soon fail, and then there will be nothing protecting the world from him.

He will annihilate.

He will consume.

He will devour.

NO!

Chapter Text

The ringing of a bell¹ catches Odysseus's attention and he signals for Eurylochus to take command of the ship. As soon as Eurylochus does, Odysseus heads to the bow². 

"Captain!" Polites greets cheerfully as Odysseus joins him on the bow platform. "Perimedes spotted land starboard of us. I've already had Antilochus set the flags³ to notify the other ships. If we keep this speed up, Perimedes estimates we'll make land just before sunset." 

Odysseus smiles at his friend. "Excellent, I'll alter our course," he says, just as he spots what Perimedes and Polites had both spotted- 

Land. 

He can only hope that this one is more welcoming to his men than the island of the Lotus Eaters was.

Odysseus yelps as something wet and cold splashes his face, waking him up from a dead sleep. 

He splutters, bolting upright and reaching for his sword in a panic before the sound of laughter stops him.

When his tired eyes finally manage to focus, he spots Polites, still laughing. 

"Sorry, Captain, but Eurylochus sent me to get you, and you wouldn't wake up," Polites says in response to Odysseus's glare. 

He rolls his eyes and wipes the cold saltwater off his face. "Did you have to use water?" 

Polites snorts. "You should thank me, Odysseus. You smell like you've been sleeping amongst swine." 

Against his will, Odysseus feels himself crack a smile. "I have been," he says dryly, sending Polites back into the throws of laughter.

Odysseus stretches, ignoring his cackling best friend. He bends down and grabs one of his chitons, and- 

Ugh. 

Maybe Polites is onto something. 

Well, it's not like he has anything cleaner to wear in the meantime. He pulls it on and pins his blue chlamys⁴ over it. At least the chlamys doesn't smell as badly as the chiton does. It's his favorite, Penelope wove it for him as a gift before he left for Troy. It's a bit of a miracle that it's made it this far with only minimal damage, and he likes to think of it as his good luck charm.

Then, he laces up his sandals and follows Polites out of the tent and over to where Eurylochus and the captains of the other eleven ships are gathered. 

"Morning, Captain, Polites," Eurylochus greets. "We were just discussing the plan for today. I assume we'll be sending out several hunting parties?" 

Odysseus nods, "Yes. But I also want to make sure we assign a contingent of men to do laundry."

Polites snorts in laughter, bringing his arm up to try and muffle it as if struck by a coughing fit, but nothing can disguise the gleam of amusement Odysseus spots in his eyes. 

"Over here!" Odysseus shouts to the others in his hunting party as he points at the sheep he'd just managed to shoot. 

As he gets closer, he realizes that it had collapsed in front of the entrance to a cave. 

A cave? 

He recalls the words of the Lotus Eaters, speaking of a cave filled with food and drink. 

Curious, he peers inside and feels his eyes widen as he realizes that the Lotus Eaters weren't lying. 

Inside the cave is what appears to be a full flock of sheep, a large herd of goats, racks of cheese, and pails of milk. 

"Nice shot, Captain!" Polites says as he finally catches up with Odysseus, who is still crouching beside the dead sheep. 

Odysseus flashes a smile at Polites before pointing to the cave. "I think I found the cave that the Lotus-Eaters were talking about," he says, and Polites' matching smile is like the sun. 

"Wow, look at all this food," his friend says brightly, "And all these sheep! I can't believe this cave has all this for us to keep." 

He and the rest of the hunting party forge forward, entering the cave. 

As they do, a chill runs down Odysseus's spine and he hesitates. The sheep and goats, he can excuse. But the racks of cheese and pails of milk... Whose home have they stumbled upon? 

Sure, if they are civilized, he has no doubts that he'll be able to convince them to share their hospitality with him and his men⁵ . But... something about the way that the Lotus Eaters had spoken of the cave... it puts him ill at ease. Why would they pass up on all this? 

But Polites and Eurylochus don't seem to share his apprehension as they begin poking at the food, chatting between themselves at the miracle before them. 

As he slowly enters the cave, keeping an eye out for any danger as he does, a muffled noise catches Odysseus's attention. 

He twists, searching for the source. 

Is that- 

A young boy, perhaps a bit younger than Telemachus must be now, is staring back at Odysseus. The boy's sea-green eyes are wide with fear and when Odysseus looks closer, he realizes that the boy's hands and ankles are tied together tightly and his mouth is gagged with a thick cloth. 

The boy, realizing that Odysseus has spotted him, frantically motions with his head towards the exit and Odysseus frowns. 

Something is horribly wrong. 

He opens his mouth to alert his men- 

"Who are you?" a voice booms, making Odysseus jump. 

He spins, coming face-to-face with the source of the voice: a towering cyclops whose razor-sharp tusks alone are bigger than Odysseus.

His bad feeling worsens. 

"Hey, there," Odysseus says nervously. "We're just travelers. We come in peace. "  

The cyclops is unamused. "You killed my sheep. My favorite sheep," he says, his eye narrowing at Odysseus. "What gives you the right to deal a pain that deep? Don't you know that pain you sow is pain you reap?" the cyclops thunders, his voice crashing against the walls of the cave and echoing loudly. "You are a fool to think that pretty words will appease me. Your life is in my hand now, and before I'm done, you will learn that it's not so fun to take from others."

The cyclops smiles, baring rows of rotting, broken teeth. "A trade, you see?" he says. Quicker than his size would imply, the cyclops rolls a boulder in front of the entrance to the cave, trapping Odysseus and his men within. "I'll take from you like you took from me." 

Odysseus swallows down his fear. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding. We never came here to steal," he lies with an apologetic smile even as his hands twitch, signaling his plan to his men. "But I can see we've done some damage, which I apologize for. But maybe you and I can make a deal," he continues charismatically. 

As he speaks, his men drag the small barrel of wine they'd brought with them to sate their thirst while exploring and hunting to his side⁶. Eurylochus' serious dark eyes meet his for a split second as his second-in-command takes the torch Odysseus was carrying, and in the same motion, slips something small into Odysseus's hand. Something familiar. Thank the gods for Eurylochus. 

"I'll give you our finest treasure," Odysseus says with a sly smile, "So long as we leave alive, you can keep the world's best tasting wine," as he speaks, he cracks the lid off the barrel, running his hand along the rim. 

The cyclops hesitates. "Wine?" 

Odysseus pounces on the hesitation. "Have a drink," Odysseus says, gesturing to the barrel, "One sip and you'll understand the power that's in your hands. A wine so fresh you'll never want to eat human flesh again. Then, we'll be on our way. No bloodshed here today. A trade, you see. A gift from you and a gift from me." 

The cyclops stares at the barrel for a moment, before snatching it up and tipping it into his mouth, greedily gulping down the wine. Then, he tosses the empty barrel to the side and smiles at Odysseus. A chill runs down Odysseus's spine. "Ah, I'd like to thank you," the cyclops says. "Stranger, what's your name?" 

A flicker of movement catches Odysseus's eye and he realizes that the little boy is shaking his head vigorously at him. Warning received, Odysseus returns his full attention to the cyclops. "My name is Nobody," he lies graciously. 

The cyclops' smile grows wider. "Nobody, for your gift, I've one to reply," he says. 

Odysseus feels a swell of relief about to crash over him at the promising words. But something... something still feels wrong. "I'm so glad we see eye to eye," he says apprehensively. 

The cyclops' smile grows wider, and the expression is more menacing than friendly. 

Odysseus's bad feeling gets worse. 

"Yes," the cyclops agrees, "You shall be the final man to die." 

Chapter Text

"Yes," the cyclops agrees, "You shall be the final man to die." 

"What?" Odysseus exclaims, backing up.

The cyclops lifts his hand and- 

"WATCH OUT!" Odysseus screams and his men scatter, but the cyclops manages to grab two and he- 

Odysseus cringes back as the cyclops slams both men into the ground, splitting their skulls open and wetting the cave floor with their blood. 

How long will it take for the lotus-laced wine to kick in? (If it does at all- no, he has to believe his plan will work.)

Odysseus darts away from the cyclops, who is occupied tearing his two victims apart, and over to the rest of his men. He speaks to them quietly, "My brothers, the rest of our fleet is waiting at the beach, if we're defeated they're as good as dead." Odysseus draws his sword, his eyes narrowing with focus. "We can't expect backup, it's just us. Arm yourselves, our foe must be thwarted, right here and now. Surround him, but keep distance in mind and stay in his blind spot! Strike at his heels, but above all else, protect each other." Odysseus smiles grimly. "Now go, show me your will to survive!" 

His men cheer and rush forward to attack. As they do, Odysseus snags Polites. 

"Go help the boy," he instructs, pointing to the child who had tried so hard to warn them of the lurking danger. Right now, the cyclops is standing between them and the boy, which means Polites will have to sneak past the furious beast. 

But Odysseus knows that if anyone can do it, it's Polites. His most valued and trusted friend, with an unparalleled ability to swiftly and craftily achieve his goals. 

His dear friend smiles at him reassuringly. "I'm on it, Captain," Polites promises before disappearing into the shadows. 

Trusting Polites to handle freeing the young one, Odysseus joins the battle, yelling orders to his men as they circle the cyclops. "Exhaust him!" he shouts. "Don't let him get close, he's strong but slow. He can't land a blow if we're out of reach!" 

For a moment, his strategy is working. 

The cyclops staggers back, bellowing in annoyance from the cuts and bruises Odysseus and his men have dealt.

"Enough," the cyclops roars. "You've hurt me enough," he repeats, reaching out and grabbing a massive club that had been resting against the wall behind him.

Odysseus's stomach flips. 

"You all will make the perfect meal," the cyclops snarls, swinging the club and crushing several men in one blow. Before anyone can react, he swings it again, hitting several more of Odysseus's men and clipping Odysseus with it in the process. 

Odysseus is sent flying into the cave wall. He gasps, his vision blacking out for a second as the wind is knocked from his chest. Tears gather at the edges of his eyes from the pain and he blinks them away, trying to force his vision to clear up. He can't afford to be blinded now- 

"Captain!" 

Eurylochus's voice draws Odysseus's attention. 

Oh gods no- 

The little boy that Polites must have managed to set free is frozen in fear, like a fawn in the sights of a predator². Looming above him is the cyclops. The boy is alone, no one near enough to pull him to safety or distract the cyclops- they had all retreated back after the cyclops had pulled out the club.

"You thought you could escape in the chaos?" the cyclops roars. "Ha! No one escapes the great Polyphemus!" 

The cyclops swings his club. 

Odysseus starts forward- to do what, he's not sure, but he freezes in his tracks as Polites appears out of nowhere, frantically shoving the boy to the side. 

"POLITES!" Odysseus screams. 

But it's no use, his dearest friend is...

His dearest friend lies lifeless on the ground, his skull split open and his blood painting the walls of the cave.

Dead.

Polites... his best friend... is dead.

The cyclops laughs, not having noticed - or not caring - that he had killed Polites and not his intended target.

Polites' desperate move had shoved the little boy behind a boulder, hiding him from the cyclops' line of sight- though Odysseus can still see him clearly. The child is still frozen from fear, his wide, fearful eyes locked onto Polites' body. 

While the boy is hidden right now, if the cyclops spots him, he'll be a sitting duck.

And Polites will have died for nothing.

No.

Polites gave his life for the boy, Odysseus won't let that sacrifice be in vain.

Shoving his grief aside, Odysseus frantically signals to Eurylochus and the rest of his men for a distraction. 

Perimedes is the first to react, rushing forward with a brave yell and stabbing the cyclops in the toe.

The cyclops bellows in pain, and while he is distracted, Odysseus makes his way across the cave and to the boy's side. 

He quickly scoops the little up into his arms, "Shh, be as quiet as you can and close your eyes, little one. Don't look, no matter what. Not until I tell you it's safe," Odysseus whispers to the boy even as he creeps away from the cyclops. 

The little one obediently buries his face into Odysseus's shoulder, his little hands tightening their hold around Odysseus's neck. Silent tears soak into his chlamys, and he wishes there was time to soothe the boy. 

Miraculously, the cyclops had been so distracted by Perimedes and the others that he'd missed Odysseus's desperate dash across the cave and is still unaware of their location. But that won't last long, Odysseus is sure. 

He peeks around the side of the boulder concealing himself and the boy. 

The cyclops is facing away from them, his attention on Eurylochus and the others. He rears back, preparing to crush them. 

As he does, he begins to sway. 

Odysseus's breath catches with hope. 

He quickly gestures to Eurylochus, ordering a quiet retreat. It's the best he can manage to convey using only one hand, but thankfully, Eurylochus understands his meaning immediately and changes tactics. 

Instead of risking injury by getting close in an attempt to hurt the cyclops, the men are now focused entirely on avoiding the heavy-handed blows of his club. Thankfully, the cyclops is already beginning to slow down, and it only takes a few moments for the wobbling cyclops to topple onto his back into a dead sleep. 

The lotus-laced wine has finally taken effect. 

(Not soon enough) 

(Not soon enough) 

(Polites...) 

"Captain," someone says, but it sounds distorted and faint, like they're speaking underwater. He feels as if he's underwater.

Like he's drowning. 

(Polites)

"Captain," the voice repeats louder, "Captain, what now?" 

Odysseus blinks away the strange stillness that had consumed him. 

"We must move quickly," he tells Eurylochus. "We don't have much time. He didn't notice the lotus in the wine, but I'm afraid this is not the end." 

Eurylochus swallows thickly, the apple of his throat bobbing. "But Captain, what'll we do with our fallen friends?" 

Odysseus looks to his remaining men, raising his chin even as a tear slips down his face. "Remember them," he answers. "We're the ones who carry on the flames of those who've gone. And our brothers will not die in vain. We won't let them." 

He turns to the fallen cyclops, still snoring peacefully. As if he had not just cut short the lives of six men, made widows of four wives and orphans of two families. It makes Odysseus sick with anger.

"I need all our hands on his club," Odysseus commands. "That's how we're getting out of here. Use your swords to sharpen the club and turn it into a giant spear." 

His men rally to his command, just as he knew they would. "Let's kill him!" they shout, hurrying to carry out his orders. 

Odysseus shakes his head. "His body is blocking the path, if we kill him, we'll be stuck inside." 

As the men work to sharpen the cyclops' club, Odysseus pauses to kneel down beside Polites' body. He reaches out with his free hand, closing his best friend's eyes and slipping a coin under his tongue³. Then, he grabs the ribbon Polites had worn as a headband, clumsily twining it around his other wrist. 

The child in his arms makes a quiet questioning noise and Odysseus soothes one hand through the boy's soft curls, keeping him tucked into Odysseus's chest as he stands back up. "Keep quiet, little one. We'll be safe soon, I swear," he promises. 

The boy quiets down, tucking his face back into Odysseus's shoulder and Odysseus turns his focus back to his men, watching as they finish sharpening the club- the same club that had killed six of his men, had killed Polites. 

"Captain, where do we attack him?" Eurylochus asks, breaking Odysseus from his grief. 

"Stab him in the eye." 

"Yes, sir!" his men shout, working together to lift up the weapon above the cyclops face, aiming it towards his singular eye. 

"Now!" Odysseus commands. 

The cyclops roars as the pain shakes him from his drugged sleep. "Scatter!" Odysseus yells and his men dart away from the path of the staggering cyclops. 

Then, his heart skips a beat as a new voice speaks. "Who hurt you?" it asks. 

"There are more of them?" Eurylochus whispers, his eyes wide with horror. 

"Hide!" Odysseus quietly commands his men before darting behind a boulder, clutching the little one in his arms close. The poor child is clearly well aware of what's going on, his trembling becoming even more pronounced as more silent tears soak Odysseus's chlamys. "Shh, it's going to be okay," Odysseus promises quietly, hoping that it's not a lie, "I'll keep you safe, little one. I have a plan, I swear." 

Eurylochus joins them in their hiding place, sweat beading on his brow. "Captain, we should run," he hisses. 

Odysseus raises a hand, "Wait," he says, peering around the boulder just enough to get a look at what's happening. 

Several more cyclops have gathered at the entrance to the cave. "Who hurt you?" one asks. 

"Captain, please," Eurylochus pleads. 

"Wait," Odysseus repeats, straining his ears to hear the cyclops' response. 

"It was Nobody," he roars. 

The other cyclops exchange looks. "If nobody hurt you, be silent," one says coldly and they turn to leave. 

"Don't go!" the blind one shouts, but it's too late. The others are already gone. 

And the path to freedom is clear. 

Odysseus turns to his men. "Let's grab the sheep and get out of here," he commands, making sure his voice is quiet enough to go unnoticed by the weeping cyclops. 

His men nod somberly, and they begin to sneak away, quiet as mice. 

Odysseus breathes a sigh of relief when they manage to exit the cave without the monster interfering. 

Thankfully, the ship is close by, and the nerve-wracking journey to the beach where they're camped is swift. 

Odysseus keeps careful watch for trouble while Eurylochus informs the other captains of what happened, and the others pack up the camp and load the liberated food on board. 

Ship after ship leaves shore, until all that is left is Odysseus's own ship. Just as the last crate is loaded on board and his men prepare to head aboard, the connection he has with Athena sparks to life. 

"Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?" she whispers in his ear. "He's still a threat until he's dead." Odysseus turns to face her. Athena's face is as stony as carved marble, statuesque in its regal visage. "Finish it," she commands. 

Odysseus freezes. 

Athena wants him to risk the rest of his men, and for what- the cyclops is blind already. Returning to kill him would only put them in further danger. 

"No." Odysseus whispers. He has done everything that she has commanded of him, but this is an order he cannot obey. 

"No?" Athena repeats incredulously, anger seeping into her voice like poison. 

It only strengthens Odysseus's conviction that his choice is the right one. "No." Odysseus repeats, louder this time. "What good would killing do when mercy is a skill more of this world could learn to use?" he asks, thinking of the little one cradled in his arms and the man who died to save him. "My friend is dead, our foe is blind..." Odysseus swallows thickly, his grief weighing heavy across his shoulders and burning cold in his chest. "The blood we shed... it never dries. If that's what it means to be a warrior of the mind, I want nothing of it," he says bitterly, turning away from Athena and cutting their connection. 

Odysseus threw a baby to its death just because of actions it might have taken in the future. Cruelty in war is a necessity. 

But the war is over. The war is over. 

Kindness is brave, Polites had said. Greet the world with open arms. 

Polites. Dead at the cyclops hand. The cyclops who had chosen cruelty instead of kindness. Who had broken the sacred laws of hospitality and stolen the lives of six men. 

Suddenly, the rage that he's been repressing since Polites died burns in his chest like a torch, and as the ship begins to sail away from the shore, Odysseus turns to the silhouette of the weeping cyclops. 

"Hey, cyclops!" he screams. "We came in peace, ready to trade, and you greeted us with violence instead. But my brothers won't die in vain!" 

The cyclops turns towards his voice, roaring in fury and racing towards the beach as if to catch them before they could escape. 

Odysseus sees red. "The next time that you dare choose cruelty over mercy, remember them. Remember us. And remember me!" 

Blinded by rage, he barely even notices the little hands frantically tugging at his chiton or the distant echo of Athena's voice saying DON'T. 

"I'm the reigning king of Ithaca, the infamous Odysseus! Son of Laertes and besieger of Troy!" 

Kindness may be brave, and he may be choosing mercy, but he is not Polites. 

The cyclops roars, futilely seeking out Odysseus's voice. But they are already far out of his reach now, free from his monstrous appetite. 

As the cyclops' silhouette disappears, Odysseus's rage disappears with it, leaving behind only the overwhelming grief. 

His cheeks are wet, though he doesn't remember when he began crying. He's about to reach up to wipe away the tears when he remembers that he is still carrying the boy. 

He swallows against the knot in his throat and lowers himself down onto his knees. "We're safe, little one," he whispers hoarsely to the child cradled in his arms. "You can open your eyes now." 

"Promise?" the little one warbles, pulling away just enough to reveal one brilliant green eye peering up at Odysseus. 

Odysseus musters what he hopes is a reassuring smile. "I promise," he answers. "You can let go now." 

The little one finally releases his death grip on Odysseus's neck and allows Odysseus to set him down. "Hello, little one," Odysseus greets as he finally gets a good look at the boy. "My name is Odysseus." 

Up close, he realizes that he'd definitely overestimated the boy's age. While Telemachus should be about ten now, this boy can't be older than seven. 

More importantly, the poor child is filthy and covered in blood and dirt. "Are you hurt anywhere?" Odysseus asks, concerned by the blood. 

The child hesitates, before showing Odysseus his knees and elbows, which are scraped up pretty badly. Although the cuts look nasty, they are also thankfully shallow, and if they're all that the boy has to show for his brush with death, Odysseus will be glad. 

"Nowhere else?" Odysseus presses, and the boy shakes his head. Thank the gods. He exhales in relief. "That's good, I'm glad. Can you tell me your name, little one?" 

"I'm Per- Perth- Perthy- Percy," the boy answers, yawning. It seems the little one has a lisp, forcing him to over-pronounce his name. It's rather adorable, actually. 

"It's nice to meet you, Percy," Odysseus says, "Let's go get you cleaned up and into bed." 

He stands, dusting off his knees and offering Percy his hand. 

The little one takes it and Odysseus leads him across the ship, towards Odysseus's small cabin below deck⁴. 

As they make their way down, Eurylochus waves them over. 

"Captain, are you alright?" Eurylochus asks. Odysseus nods even though he's barely holding it together. If he's being honest, Percy is the only thing standing between him and a breakdown. 

Eurylochus eyes him doubtfully, before reporting their status. "We've set a course for home, it's not far now." 

Odysseus smiles through his exhaustion. "Good." 

Percy tugs at Odysseus's hand. "Od- Od- Odith- dith- Ody?" the boy stutters, tripping over Odysseus's name. 

The cute lisp preventing him from properly pronouncing it draws a real smile from Odysseus. "Yes, Percy?" he prompts. 

"Who is he?" Percy asks, looking at Eurylochus. 

"This is my second-in-command, Eurylochus," Odysseus answers. "Eurylochus, meet Percy." 

Eurylochus raises an eyebrow, but smiles at the little one when prompted. 

Percy tucks himself into Odysseus's side at the attention. He's a shy one, it seems. Or maybe just too tired to make the effort to socialize.

"I'm going to help Percy get cleaned up. I trust you to manage the ship in the meantime, but don't hesitate to come get me if anything happens," Odysseus tells Eurylochus. 

His brother-in-law nods, and Odysseus nudges Percy. "Come on, little one." 

In Odysseus's cabin, the little one begrudgingly allows Odysseus to wipe away all the dirt and filth with a damp cloth.

"Can you tell me how you ended up on the island of the cyclops?" Odysseus asks as he works. 

The little one sniffles. "I dunno..." he answers. "Mom was... Mom wanted to send me away to- to school, and I didn't want to go and I just got so mad I ran off. I was gonna go back, I swear, but there was this big storm 'nd I was so scared I was gonna get hit by the lightning." 

Percy inhales sharply as Odysseus scrubs at a particularly filthy scratch on the boy's left knee. Surprisingly - or maybe not, Odysseus doesn't have much experience with children - the boy doesn't complain about the pain, just takes a deep breath before continuing. "I tried to go into one of the stores to get out of the rain, but I was so distracted by the storm that I accidentally tripped into this old lady. I tried to say sorry, but she grabbed my hand and wouldn't let me go and then the other two ladies with her started saying all this stuff about how their tapestry was all wrong and it needed to be redone and I would help. And then one of them wrapped this string around my wrist," Percy gestures to the blue-green cord braided around his wrist, "an' that's the last thing I remember before I woke up in the cave with the scary monster who wanted to eat me." 

The only way any of that could make sense is if there was godly involvement, but why one of them would intervene to send the little one to be eaten by a cyclops, Odysseus isn't sure. Though... three ladies, string... is it possible it was the Fates? But why?

He could see one of the gods punishing Percy for some fault of his parents, as unfortunate as that would be, but the Fates are not so hasty. They stand removed from the rest of the world, untouched by the acts of gods and men alike. 

Percy sniffles, breaking Odysseus from his thoughts. "I want my mom," the little one whispers. 

Odysseus pulls the boy into a hug. "I'll do my best to help you find her, little one," he promises, soothing a hand down Percy's back as the boy shakes in his hold. 

Once Percy has cried himself out, Odysseus finishes cleaning the boy up, helps him into one of his chitons (which swamps the boy, but it'll have to do for now), and tucks the boy into his hammock. 

Percy is asleep within seconds, and Odysseus sighs, exhausted to the bone. 

He wonders, does Telemachus have a lisp like Percy? Does he have wavy curls like Odysseus, or is his hair straight like Penelope? Is he as sweet as Percy and Penelope, or as mischievous as Odysseus and Polites once were? 

Odysseus presses a feather-light kiss to Percy's brow and leaves the boy to catch up on his much-needed rest. 

The flutter of feathers makes him freeze. 

"You were reckless, sentimental at best," Athena hisses, making Odysseus whip around. "That's not a teaching of mine." 

The goddess looms over him, and for a brief flicker, Odysseus remembers being fifteen and excitedly declaring them friends, hopeful and full of life. The way she'd told him we'll see where it ends. 

"You've grown soft, your dead friends can attest," Athena continues coldly and Odysseus growls in indignation at her rude words. "You should've put your emotions aside. You're a warrior, meant to lead the rest." She shakes her head dismissively. "I don't know where I went wrong."

Went wrong?!

Odysseus's jaw drops at her audacity as she continues on, "I warned you to kill the cyclops and you failed my test. I have no wish to waste my time, so consider this my goodbye."

He bares his teeth. "That's just like you, selfish and prideful and vain," he hisses. "I don't know why I'm surprised." Odysseus scoffs. "Unlike you, every time someone dies, I'm left to deal with the strain. Why should I care about any titles you could grant me if it means I'll never sleep at night?" He glares up at her. "I'll remind you, I once saw you as a friend. But I can't help being glad that you'll be out of my head now. I don't need you in my ear pushing me to further your glory at the expense of my men."

Athena glares back down at him. "You're not looking for a mentor anymore and I have no desire for a friend. I mistook you for a general... what a waste of effort spent," she hisses.

Odysseus steps closer, jabbing one hand to his chest. "At least I know what I'm fighting for, do you?" He scoffs. "Since you claim to be so much wiser, tell me, why's your life spent all alone?"

Athena's eyes widen and she recoils, before her expression hardens. "One day, you'll hear what I'm saying. One day, you might understand. One day... but not today, for after all, you're just a man," she scoffs derisively. "Consider this my goodbye," she says, before vanishing in a flutter of feathers. 

Odysseus muffles a scream into his hands.

What gives her the right to act as if she's so much better than him? She's not the one who suffers from the consequences of her plans. No, she gets to reap the benefits and leave the pain to others. She knows nothing of duty, nothing of sacrifice, nothing of loyalty. 

"Captain?" Eurylochus says, appearing from around the corner. 

Odysseus takes a deep breath, stifling the rage that threatens to burst out of him. "What is it?" 

Eurylochus frowns. "Nothing good, I'm afraid. The clouds on the horizon have darkened, and it looks like a storm is brewing." 

Chapter Text

"Charis! It's shift change, go take a break!" Perimedes' shout carries through the miserable wind and rain, catching Charis' attention.

He swiftly climbs down from the lookout platform. “Thanks,” he tells Perimedes, having to raise his voice to make it heard over the storm. Perimedes just nods in recognition and climbs up to take Charis’ place as lookout.

It’s usually one of the more peaceful positions on the ship, but not when they’re attempting to barrel through a massive storm on a flimsy trireme.

Ugh. At least they should be only a few days at most away from home. Once they get through the storm and can pick up their speed, it won't be long. 

Charis makes a beeline for below-deck, where it’s (mostly) dry. As he’s walking towards the ladder, he spots someone climbing up it. He squints at the figure, then frowns.

It’s the child that the Captain had found earlier in the day. (Found? Rescued? Kidnapped??? Charis isn’t quite sure how the kid ended up with the Captain except that he wasn’t with them when they entered the cave but he was in the Captain’s arms when they escaped).

The boy successfully makes it up onto the deck and Charis winces at how small he looks. He reminds Charis of a pup that he’d once rescued after someone had tried to drown it. And just like the pup, the boy’s curly hair is dark from the rain and plastered close to his skin.

As Charis nears the boy, he sees him squint against the storm as he looks around, one hand coming up to try and shield his eyes from the stinging rain. “Need help with something?” Charis asks. The kid’s attention snaps to Charis and he hesitates for a moment before nodding. “I’m looking for Ody,” he answers. Ody. That’s pretty cute. Charis has only ever heard Eurylochus and P-

...

And Polites. 

Polites used to call the Captain that too. Not often, especially during the war, but it would occasionally slip out and remind the crew that the three had known each other since boyhood. 

Charis pushes away the wave of grief that hits him and points behind the boy, towards the covered platform on the stern where the Captain is barely visible, shouting commands down to the rowers. 

“Thanks!” 

The kid turns to make his way over and Charis sees disaster coming only a moment before the boy trips over his oversized tunic (which definitely belongs to the Captain) and slams into the wet floorboards with a loud THUNK ! 

The Captain’s shouting abruptly cuts out as Charis hurries over to help the kid up. “You okay?” he asks.

The kid nods, his face wobbling dangerously. Charis pats him on the head and prays he won’t cry. 

Luckily for Charis, the Captain must have noticed the kid’s fall and given command over to Eurylochus because when Charis looks over, he can already see the Captain making his way over to them quickly (way too quickly, he needs to be more careful, the deck is slick from the rain and if he’s not careful he’ll end up falling just like the kid). 

“Percy! What are you doing up here?” the Captain asks as he drops down beside the kid.

The kid, Percy, frowns. “I wanted to find you.” 

The Captain sighs. “You need to be more careful, I don’t want you getting hurt,” he says even as he scoops the kid up into his arms. “I really wish Polites were here,” the Captain mutters to himself. “He’d know what to do. And at the very least, he’d have been able to fix up this chiton.” 

The Captain’s words hit Charis like an oar over the head. He’d- he’d forgotten that the crew thought Polites was the one to repair everything. 

No one except him and Polites had been aware of the truth- that Charis is the one with a talent for mending and was just too embarrassed to admit it. 

Early on during the war, Polites' favorite himation¹  - the one his sister had woven for him - had gotten caught on something while they were setting up camp and torn badly. Charis hadn't seen it happen, but Polites had mentioned it to him later and Charis had offered to try and fix it up for him. 

See, Charis’ dad died when he was young, and his mom got sick soon after. She’d taught him to sew and cook so that when she passed, he would be able to care for himself. He treasures his skill because she taught it to him, but he also got teased a lot as a kid for having a girly name and he’s always been worried to tell anyone about his sewing skills. 

Polites is the only one he’d admitted it to, and only because he couldn’t bear how upset Polites was after the himation tore. Of course, the others had noticed that someone had repaired it and because Charis had asked Polites not to tell anyone, Polites had just deflected. Except the crew quickly came to the conclusion that it was Polites who had sewn it back together and started bringing him their things to fix. 

Polites had tried to convince Charis to tell them, and although Charis knew that Polites was right that the crew wouldn’t make fun of him for having such an unmanly hobby, he’d never managed to get the courage to tell them. And so the misunderstanding had persisted. 

But Polites isn’t here anymore.

It’s just Charis. 

And now that poor kid is stuck in clothes many times too big for him.

Charis hesitates before making his decision. 

“Captain, wait!” he calls. 

The Captain turns to look back at him, silently raising an impatient eyebrow when Charis doesn’t immediately explain. 

Charis sighs. “Can I speak with you for a moment?” he asks, raising a hand to try and block the rain from getting in his eyes. 

The Captain frowns, glancing down at the child still cradled in his arms. 

“He can come too,” Charis adds before the Captain can say anything. He clearly doesn’t want to part with his new (stolen? adopted?) child. 

“We can speak in my cabin,” the Captain finally agrees. Then, he turns to climb down the slippery ladder. 

Charis watches in awe as the Captain somehow manages not to slip and break his neck despite carrying Percy down with him. It’s honestly impressive. 

Charis follows them down beneath the shelter of the deck and into the Captain’s small cabin. The Captain sets Percy down on the ground and turns back to face Charis, silently waiting for an explanation. 

Charis hesitates, unsure of how to start. 

"I do have to get back to relieve Eurylochus," the Captain says dryly and Charis winces.

"Right, sorry. I just-" he looks down and accidentally makes eye contact with Percy's big green eyes, wide with innocent curiosity. It gives him the extra push of motivation he'd been looking for. "It wasn't Polites who mended the crew's clothing," he blurts.

"What?" the Captain says, eyebrows knitting together in confusion. 

“I’m the one who can sew. I fixed up Polites’ himation for him when it got torn around the beginning of the war, but I asked him not to tell anyone because I was worried about getting ridiculed. It was a misunderstanding that just… never got corrected,” Charis explains. 

The Captain’s eyes widen. “Oh. He… he never told me,” he says quietly. 

Charis winces. “Like I said, I… I asked him not to. He tried to convince me to tell everyone, but… I never got around to it,” he says weakly. “Anyway, I would be happy to alter a few of your chitons to fit Percy properly.” 

“I- I would appreciate that, Charis,” the Captain says. “I’ll bring some over to you tonight after we set up camp, if that’s alright.” 

“Of course,” Charis responds softly. 

As he turns to leave, he hears Percy ask, “Who’s Polites?” 

The Captain’s response is just loud enough for him to catch as the door closes behind him. “He... he was my best friend, a good warrior, and an even better person.” 

A wave of relief crashes over Odysseus as his ship grinds to a halt in the shallow waters of the small island that Perimedes had spotted. Everyone, including him, is well past ready to set up camp for the night (not that he’s even entirely sure what time it is, the storm is so intense that it blots out the sky entirely, leaving them blind to the sun’s position). 

Odysseus raises one hand to try and shield his eyes from the rain as he directs the men who had been on break (and thus, are the most rested and refreshed) to pull the ship up onto the shore. 

It doesn’t take long for them to pull the ship far enough onto the beach for a gangway to be lowered onto the sand. 

Odysseus slings his back onto his shoulder before turning to the silent shadow hovering at his side and scooping him up into his arms. 

“Wha- hey!” Percy squeaks in surprise, scrabbling to adjust to the sudden change in position. 

Odysseus can’t stop the soft laugh that escapes him at the boy’s reaction. “Didn’t mean to surprise you,” he says as he carefully steps onto the wide plank serving as their bridge from the ship to the ground. “The wood is slippery and I don’t want you to fall,” he explains. 

Percy frowns. “I wouldn’t slip,” he protests, though he doesn’t struggle against Odysseus’ grip. 

“I’m sure you wouldn’t,” Odysseus says agreeably. 

Percy, clearly aware that Odysseus is just saying that to placate him, huffs dramatically. And as soon as Odysseus steps onto the sand, the boy begins to squirm until Odysseus lets him down. 

“Now what?” Percy asks, seemingly unbothered by the pouring rain and poor visibility. 

“Now, we unload the ships and set up camp,” Odysseus answers, nudging Percy with one hand to the side so they aren’t blocking the rest of the men from disembarking.

To their left, three of the other ships in the fleet have reached the shallows and men are climbing down to pull them up onto the shore. Another two ships are a bit further out, maybe a minute or two at most. To their right, one ship has already been pulled onto the beach and he can see Klymenos - the captain - disembarking, his arms laden with bags. The other five ships are pulling in as he watches. 

By now, setting up camp is a fine-tuned process, everyone knowing their tasks (although Odysseus is struck by a pang of grief when he realizes he needs to redistribute the tasks of the men who’d died to the cyclops) and rushing to complete them. 

However, Odysseus quickly realizes that it’s not nearly as easy with a seven-year-old shadowing him. Percy doesn’t mean to, but his small size and unfamiliarity with the process means he keeps getting in the way. 

After the third time nearly tripping over the boy, he calls Eurylochus over. “Percy, I’d like you to help Eurylochus set up the tents,” he says. 

Percy blinks up at him with big green eyes. “But I don’t know how.” 

Odysseus ruffles his curls. “That’s alright, Eurylochus can teach you,” he says, giving Eurylochus a look warning him not to disagree. 

His second-in-command sighs. “Of course I can.” 

Percy looks between the two of them nervously. “But-” his voice cracks and he swallows, looking like he’s holding back tears, “But what about you?” 

Odysseus only barely manages to hide his wince at the boy’s plaintive tone. “I’ll be right here helping unload the ships,” he says gently. “And you can always come get me if you need me.” 

Percy gnaws at his lip for a moment. “Promise?” he finally asks. 

“I promise,” Odysseus says. 

(If he’s being honest with himself, he doesn’t particularly like the idea of separating from Percy either, but as captain, he has a duty to fulfill and he can’t do it properly with Percy getting underfoot at every turn). 

Percy huffs. “Okay,” he finally agrees. 

(Despite himself, it takes Odysseus far longer than it should to tear his attention away from Percy and Eurylochus and back onto the task at hand.) 

“Good job, kid,” Eury says as they finish setting up the tent. “That’s the last one.” 

Percy shyly smiles up at him. “Now what?” he asks. 

He’s never gotten to go camping before. Mom always said they’d go when he was older, but Smelly Gabe always complained about him and Mom going to Montauk, there’s no way he’d be okay with them leaving for another weekend (and there was no way Percy was giving up Montauk for camping, even if it did sound fun). 

Well, now Percy gets to go camping (even if he does miss his Mom lots, but at least everyone here has been really nice to him, which is much better than Smelly Gabe). Eury even taught him how to set up the tents. 

“Now, we go and get the Captain,” Eury says. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving, and I’m sure he is too.” 

Percy nods. He is hungry. (And tired. Even though he slept earlier on the ship, he’s still super tired). 

Without thinking, he reaches for Eury’s hand. 

Eury doesn’t react at first and Percy is about to yank his hand back and apologize when Eury finally returns the grip. 

“C’mon, kid,” Eury says, leading Percy towards where Ody can just barely be seen talking to some of the other men. 

Percy had made sure to keep Ody in sight while he’d helped Eury set up the tents, his anxiety spiking every time Ody had disappeared into the ships while unloading them. Thankfully, Ody has mostly stayed in one place - and more importantly, in sight - since they finished getting everything out of the ships. 

Now, as he and Eury head to meet up with Ody, Percy is relaxed enough to tilt his face up into the still-ongoing storm. 

The rain feels good on his face. 

It reminds him of his mom. She’s always loved the rain. Sometimes, she’ll even sit out on the fire escape and listen to music when it’s drizzling out. She says it makes her feel hopeful. Like the rain is washing away all the bad stuff in the past and leaving a clean slate to start new. As if she’s a little seedling that just needs a few droplets to finally blossom. 

The rain doesn’t make him miss her any less, but it does make him feel a little bit like she’s there with him. Like any moment now she might walk around the corner and say, “And where have you been, mister?” before pulling him into a hug. 

Distracted as he is by thoughts of his mom, Percy doesn’t notice the rock in his way until he’s tripping over it. He loses his balance and begins to fall, but Eury tightens his grip on Percy’s hand just in time to pull him back up onto his feet. 

“Careful,” Eury gently scolds as he helps Percy regain his balance. 

“Sorry,” Percy says sheepishly, reaching up to push his wet curls out of his eyes. 

Of course, his vision is partially blocked again by his soaked hair only moments later, making him huff in frustration. He likes the length his hair is at but when it gets wet, it tends to get in his face which is so irritating . 

But his annoyance is quickly forgotten when he realizes that they’ve finally made it to Ody, who smiles at him. “Here, let me fix that for you,” Ody says, crouching down. 

Percy blinks as Ody ties some sort of ribbon around his head, pushing his hair back and out of his face. 

“There, much better,” Ody says, pulling back. “Now we can actually see your eyes,” he adds with a smile. 

“Thanks,” Percy says shyly. 

“Captain, can I speak with you for a moment?” Eury asks over Percy’s head. He doesn’t look upset but something about his tone of voice, or maybe the way he’s standing, makes Percy’s nerves prickle. 

Ody doesn’t seem to share the sentiment, since he only glances up at Eury before dismissing him. “Later, brother. I think right now, it’s time for us to grab some dinner.” 

The club comes crashing down towards him and Percy tries to run but his feet are stuck in quicksand and- 

Someone pushes him out of the way and his heart stops as he realizes- 

No no no no no no- 

That was his mom. 

Blood splatters across his face as the club crushes her. Percy tries to scream but his throat is swollen shut. 

Blood. 

His mama’s blood. 

The monster turns to Percy, an evil grin on its face. “You’re next,” it says, raising its club again. 

Percy is still frozen, his eyes locked on his mama’s body. 

Percy bolts upright, his chest heaving- “Mama!” he cries, tears streaming down his face as he tries to figure out what’s going on. He sobs her name again, the world spinning around him as he blinks through the tears blurring his vision. 

The cave- the cave- Ody- 

“Oh, Percy,” he hears before he’s being scooped up into Ody’s arms. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare.” 

“He wanted to eat me,” Percy sobs, clinging to Ody desperately. His chest aches like an elephant is sitting on top of it and he can’t breathe. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe now, kiddo. I’ve got you,” he hears Ody say as Percy’s vision starts to get spotty. Ody’s face swims above him, distorted as if he’s underwater. Percy can’t breathe- he can’t breathe, he’s going to suffocate- 

Ody is saying something but all Percy can hear is static, no- no, Ody is trying to say something, Percy can’t just ignore him! He struggles to listen until finally- “-match my breathing, darling. Breathe in,” he hears and he shudders, trying desperately to obey, to listen, but his chest just won’t comply. 

“Breathe out,” Ody continues and Percy tries to exhale, feels Ody’s chest deflating beneath him and tries to copy it. “You can do it,” Ody encourages, the rumble of his voice vibrating into Percy’s bones soothingly. “Breathe in,” he continues and Percy hiccups as he struggles to follow his directions. 

For the next few minutes, that’s all they do. Breathe in, and then breathe out as the static slowly drains from Percy’s ears and the black spots clear from his vision and the consuming terror fades from his chest. In, and out, until Percy’s breathing is slow enough to match Ody’s pace exactly. In, and out, until the terror has been replaced with a syrupy exhaustion that has Percy’s eyes drooping. 

Only then does Ody pull back just enough so that Percy can look up at him. “Do you want to talk about your dream?” Ody asks gently. 

Percy shakes his head. “Jus’ wanna forget it,” he forces out. 

Ody hums. “Do you think you can fall back asleep?” 

Percy offers him a tiny shrug. “Can I stay with you?” 

“Of course,” Ody answers. “C’mon, let’s lay down,” he says, leaning back and adjusting so that he’s lying down on the small bedroll, Percy cuddled into his chest. 

He feels safe like this, with Ody’s arm holding him close and his head pressed over Ody’s chest, Ody’s heartbeat thumping steadily in his ear. 

Despite that, he still can’t seem to fall asleep. He can’t stop thinking about his nightmare, the way his mom’s body had overlapped with the memory of the man who rescued him. 

“Percy, you need to try and relax,” Ody says quietly, surprising Percy out of his thoughts. “Otherwise you’ll never manage to fall asleep.” 

“Will you tell me a story?” Percy asks tentatively. That’s what his mom always did whenever he had a nightmare. 

Ody is silent for a moment. “Like what?” he asks. 

Percy huffs. “I don’t know. You’re married, right?” he asks. “Tell me how you met her and got married,” he says flippantly. 

(He’s always wanted to know how his mom and dad met, but she always refused to tell him. Mom never tells him anything about his father). 

Ody freezes beneath him and for a moment, Percy is worried he made him mad. Then, the older man relaxes and runs one hand through Percy’s curls. “Of course. It was shortly after I had been crowned king of Ithaca. There were rumors that the most beautiful woman in Greece, Helen of Sparta, was looking to get married, and since I was in need of a queen to rule with me, I set off for Sparta. I was one of many suitors, all vying for the beautiful Helen’s hand. Her father grew concerned that if he chose one of us, the others would react violently and so he kept delaying. One day, while some of the other suitors were showing off for Helen, I decided to get a breath of fresh air and went for a walk outside. While I was walking, I stumbled across a woman so beautiful I mistook her for a nymph at first,” Ody says, his voice warm with affection.  

“I was tongue-tied by her beauty, and she wasted no time teasing me for my shyness. I couldn’t help being charmed by her boldness, and we talked for hours before the setting sun forced us to part ways. However, that couldn’t stop us from meeting up again the next day.” 

Percy yawns as he relaxes into Ody’s chest, listening to the rumble of his voice as he keeps talking. 

And before he even knows it, he finds himself being lulled back to sleep.

“Percy,” a voice says. Percy grumbles, burying his face deeper into the soft warmth beneath him. 

“Percy,” the voice repeats, and someone shakes his shoulder. 

Percy groans, opening his eyes just a slit to glare at whoever is trying to wake him up. 

“C’mon, kiddo. We have to load onto the ships soon,” Ody says gently. “I already let you sleep in.”  

Reluctantly accepting his fate, Percy sits up. “Doesn’t feel like it,” he grumbles. 

Ody ruffles his hair, making Percy squirm. “It’ll be easier once you get ready. Which reminds me, Charis came by earlier and dropped off one of my tunics that he altered for you.” 

Percy scowls at the older man’s chipper tone but reluctantly stretches, instantly mourning the loss of the blankets that slip off his shoulder as the cold rushes in. Then, he stands up on wobbly legs and accepts the bundle of fabric that Ody hands him. 

“I forget… how do I put it on?” Percy asks a few moments later. He’s still staring down at the mess of fabric and pins. Honestly, the clothing they wear is so strange, I’ve never seen anything like it before. It’s like dresses, but more complicated. 

Ody laughs quietly, the expression making all his old-person wrinkles melt away until he looks years younger. (Percy’s mom is like that too. When she laughs, it’s like years disappear from her face). “Let me,” Ody says, taking the bundle out of Percy’s hands. 

He swiftly drapes the fabric over Percy’s shoulders and uses the pins to secure it in place. “There, all better,” Ody says, pulling back. 

Percy looks down. Honestly, it kind of just looks like he’s wearing a bedsheet, but he’s not about to tell Ody that. At least now it’s not so long that he’ll trip on it every time he tries to walk somewhere. “Thanks,” he says. “Is it time for breakfast?”

Percy hums to himself as cold droplets of rain trickle down his face, dripping onto his already-soaked clothing. He’s sitting at the entrance to the small platform on the ship’s deck where Ody commands the rest of the ship. Percy’s been entertaining himself for the last hour or so by pretending he’s singing in the rain with his mom. As long as he’s quiet and out of the way, Ody doesn’t seem to mind. 

“Captain,” Eury says as he steps past Percy and faces Ody. “The storm is getting worse. Our ship seems to be doing alright so far, but the others in the fleet aren’t faring nearly as well. At this rate, they’ll capsize,” Eury warns ominously. 

Ody frowns. “We’re so close to home, we can’t give up now,” he says fiercely. “Have Charis notify the other ships to follow ours. We can make it, I’m sure.” 

Eury frowns, but before he can say anything, Percy hears a ringing bell. He knows what that means- the lookout has spotted something! 

Curious, he hops to his feet and darts towards the front of the ship. (It’s a lot easier not to trip now that he has clothes that actually fit him, even if they’re a strange style that he’s not used to.) 

It takes him a moment to spot what the lookout had spotted through the storm, but when he does, his eyes widen and his jaw drops. “An island,” Percy can’t help blurting out even though there’s no one to hear him, “in the sky!” 

How is it doing that? It looks like it’s literally floating in the clouds, which is so cool! 

Percy darts over to the side of the ship, leaning against the wet railing as he peers up at the sky in wonder. “Woah,” he breathes, blinking raindrops away from his eyes. 

Mom’s never gonna believe this. 

Percy is startled out of his thoughts by the sound of Ody’s voice coming from behind him, “Eurylochus, grab the harpoons.” 

When Percy turns, he realizes that Ody and Eury had followed him out onto the deck and are now standing a few feet away. Ody has one hand raised to his brow, protecting his eyes from the raging storm as he squints up towards the floating island. “And the ten best javelin-throwers of our crew,” he adds. 

( What’s a javelin, Percy wonders. Or a harpoon?) 

Eury, who had also been looking up at the island, twists to stare at Ody instead. “What are you planning, Captain?” he asks slowly. 

“Make sure they rest while I steer us closer to the island,” Ody says, not answering Eury at all. 

Then, he turns and heads back up to the platform where he commands the ship from. 

Eury watches him go with an unreadable expression, before disappearing below deck. 

Percy’s stomach twists with nerves. Suddenly, the floating island doesn’t seem so cool anymore. He glances up at it one last time before chasing after Ody.