Chapter Text
Something’s been bothering Yujin.
At first, Gyuvin thought it was just typical new-camper nerves. Being introduced to the real world, of gods and monsters and all the horrors in between, is a lot to deal with for anyone. He himself had been seriously rattled the first time he learned the truth (although, granted, his introduction was quite a harsh one), so he knew it would take Yujin some time. Yujin is young—a year younger than Gyuvin was when he first came to camp—and on the shier side, and if Gyuvin visiting the Hermes cabin and spending time with him gets him to smile more even through the difficult transition, Gyuvin’s ready to do it for as long as Yujin lets him.
Granted, it hasn’t been two weeks yet, and it’s not unreasonable for Yujin to still be adapting. But he’s starting to think…there’s something else afoot. Something else that’s keeping the uneasiness lurking under his skin and the hesitance in his movements. Even now, on such a peaceful morning, strolling aimlessly along the camp’s borders, Yujin’s eyes dart around, searching for shadows in broad daylight.
“Yujin,” he tries, keeping his tone light. “Are you alright?”
Yujin’s steps falter slightly as he turns to face Gyuvin. “Um? Yes? Why?”
“If there’s anything on your mind, you can tell me. You know that, right?”
“Yeah…I know.” They pass by the volleyball court, where the Nike kids are doing their utmost to demolish each other. One of them spikes the ball so hard it digs several inches into the sand. “I’m just…thinking about the quest, I guess.”
“Oh.” Gyuvin nods in understanding. Hao and Hanbin had only left this morning to catch their flight. It’s still strange to Gyuvin, the idea of Hanbin, a son of Poseidon, on a plane. It’s probably even stranger to Hanbin himself. “Are you worried about them?”
“I…”
Yujin is frowning, fingers rubbing at the hem of his orange shirt. Whatever distress that was eating at him now seems to have increased tenfold, too much for his years. It makes Gyuvin want to frown as well.
“Hey.” He pats Yujin on the shoulder, hoping the touch is of some comfort. “They’ll be fine. If anyone can do it, it’s them.”
“But…” Yujin trails off. “Their prophecy…”
Gyuvin can’t help but wince at that. Earlier, before the two had set off, Yeseo had announced a prophecy for their quest. He hates prophecies—they never get easier to digest no matter how many he hears—but this one in particular…
“Don’t worry.” The words fall flat from his mouth; still, he tries to smile. “All prophecies are weird and confusing. Trying to make sense of them before they happen never does anyone any good. So…try not to let it get to you, okay?”
Even if a few of the lines feel like they could only have one meaning. Even if Gyuvin himself can’t stop thinking about why their quest talks about three saving three when there’s only two heroes saving one god, or how a son of the sea could drown, or who the “traitor” could possibly be. Even then.
“They’ll be fine,” Gyuvin repeats, as they approach the base of Half-Blood Hill, where they had seen Hao and Hanbin off only a few hours ago. “Just—”
He freezes.
“Gyuvin?” Yujin glances at him, then at the hill. His reaction, at least, lets Gyuvin know that what he’s seeing is real and not some kind of dream or trick of the Mist. As the image sinks from view, Gyuvin rushes to the top of the hill, Yujin close behind, and it’s the last confirmation he needs.
At the base of the hill, riding a majestic black pegasus, is the most beautiful person Gyuvin’s ever seen.
“Hey!” The stranger catches his eye, and his eyes—a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of colors—steal what little breath was still in Gyuvin’s lungs. “Where’s Hao Zhang?”
Gyuvin’s brain is still attempting to reboot, so it’s Yujin that has to respond, “Who are you?”
“I’m from his legion.” Belatedly, Gyuvin notices his shirt, having been too distracted by his (did he mention beautiful?) face: purple, just like Hao’s from when he’d first arrived. “I know he’s here.”
“He’s not, actually.” Gyuvin’s brain-to-mouth function has begun working again. “He just left.”
“You’re not serious.” The stranger arches an eyebrow. Gyuvin’s not sure what he sees, but after a few seconds he swears in a language Gyuvin doesn’t recognize. “You are serious. Why in Pluto did he leave?!”
“Why should we tell you?” It has finally occurred to Gyuvin that it’s probably not the best idea to spout secrets to any random demigod, no matter how attractive said demigod is. “How do we know you’re who you say you are? And not…some random guy with a purple shirt on a pegasus?”
The stranger gives him the flattest stare Gyuvin’s ever seen. “Seriously?”
“Can we Iris-message Hao?” Yujin asks. “Do you have a drachma on you?”
“We have no rainbow here,” Gyuvin says. “It’s a good idea though…”
“Iris-message?” The boy snorts, as if they just said a very funny joke. In one smooth motion, he dismounts the pegasus, all the while never breaking eye contact. Gyuvin’s starting to envy his effortless grace. “Fine. If that’s what it takes.”
Before Gyuvin can ask what he means, he claps his hands together, and a perfect square of rainbow light flashes into existence. Gyuvin jumps at the sight of it—despite their distance, the stranger managed to materialize it right in front of Gyuvin, at the top of the hill. When he looks back at the stranger, he only gestures to the light, as if saying, Well? Go on.
A son of Iris. Or Apollo, maybe? Or Hecate? No, now’s not the time to speculate. Gyuvin murmurs a quick prayer, tosses a drachma forward, and watches it disappear into the rainbow.
“Hao Zhang. Of, um…” He pauses. “I don’t know where they are right now. The airport?”
The light shimmers, multicolored light weaving together and creating a picture-perfect scene of what looks like the inside of an airport terminal. In the forefront, facing another person also partially within view, is someone with coppery hair and icy features melted into an adoring smile. His eyes must’ve caught the screen of light, because he pauses mid-laugh, and when he turns to it his expression has smoothed back over into something more neutral, if not a bit surprised.
“Gyuvin,” Hao says. Beside him, Hanbin leans in, and Hao shifts so they’re both fully in frame. “What’s wrong?”
“We only just got here,” Hanbin adds, voice lilting with a hint of mirth. “You don’t need us to go back already, do you? Did you blow up the camp or something?”
“Hey. We’re not that bad.” Gyuvin sticks his tongue out at Hanbin, who just grins. “Hao, there’s someone here who…well, he says he came to see you? And we wanted to make sure he’s who he says he is.”
“Huh?” Hao blinks. “Who?”
“Me.”
The screen flips, and Gyuvin can only imagine what Hao is seeing. Waits, as Hao stares at the figure standing by the bottom of the hill. The platinum hair that almost shines in the sunlight, the sharp artlike face, the purple shirt…
And Hao gasps.
“Ricky?!”
Another person from Camp Jupiter. Sure. Why not.
The guy—Ricky?—is hard to get a read on. He’s handsome—his looks are enough to rival an Aphrodite kid’s, although Matthew would never let the Aphrodite cabin hear him say that—and probably around Gyuvin’s age, but there’s something…almost unsettling, about the way his irises swirl and shift to the point that discerning their true color is impossible. Matthew tries to avoid meeting his eyes for too long, for fear of getting hypnotized by them.
Ricky reminds him of Hao, somewhat. Besides the obvious—the purple shirt, the tattoo on his forearm—he has that same confident, almost regal air to him. The way he stands with perfect posture, and scans every area like a battlefield, is as intense as Hao was when first arriving. He doesn’t radiate that same sense of innate authority, but he’s somehow just as intimidating.
No…if anything, he’s more intimidating. Because Hao, despite his terrifying amount of power, was not this on guard. Not with Hanbin at his side, there to ease Hao into their camp with easy smiles and lingering touches. Never with Hanbin.
If Hao didn’t have a familiar face upon arriving here…how much more terrifying would he have been? Would he have been so open to befriending everyone else? Would he have been too scary to even talk to?
“What are you thinking about?”
Matthew glances to his left, where Taerae is standing. They’re on the Big House porch, a few feet from where Ricky and Chiron are talking. Gyuvin and Yujin are standing nearby as well—apparently they were the ones who found Ricky at the hill.
“Probably the same thing you are,” Matthew responds.
“The new guy?” Taerae follows his gaze, keeping his voice low. “He came to find Hao, right? Talk about bad timing.”
That feels like an understatement. Really, Ricky had only missed him by a few hours, if not less. But what could’ve been so important for Ricky to travel across the entire country himself?
“What’s going on?” Gunwook walks up the porch stairs, Jiwoong at his side. Their odd collection of people on the porch have been attracting more than a few confused looks from the campers, although Gunwook is probably the only one bold enough to join them like this. Despite how young he is, there’s no doubt many consider him one of the senior members here. “Did something happen?”
Chiron, realizing how big their group has gotten, takes a moment to usher everyone into the living room before making quick introductions between everyone. “Ricky here is one of Camp Jupiter’s messengers,” he explains. “He traveled here to speak with Hao. I was just explaining why Hao isn’t here.”
“Of all things…” Ricky shakes his head. His voice is deeper than Matthew expected. “This must be the Fates’ idea of a joke.”
“Is that really all you came here for, though?” Gyuvin holds his hands up defensively when Ricky turns to him. “I’m not trying to imply anything! I just mean…you didn’t say anything to Hao when we Iris-messaged him earlier. What kind of message do you have to tell him that's so important you can’t send it in, like, a letter, or something?”
“I…” Ricky exhales through his nose. “It’s hard to explain. If Hao is already on a quest, then there’s no point in giving him the message. And…” For the first time, he seems uncertain. “I don’t know why, but…it felt like I had to come here. It was like…”
“A voice?” Startled, Matthew turns to Jiwoong at his interruption, as does everyone else. Jiwoong’s eyes are trained solely on Ricky. “Telling you that something would happen, and you needed to be here for it? Asking you for help?”
“Y-yeah.” Ricky blinks. “Now that you mention it…it did feel like that. But—”
An odd howl. The leopard head on the wall—Seymour, one of Mr. D’s parting gifts—freezes, mouth still open, and sudden silence settles, the fire no longer crackling, the arcade machines no longer beeping. Matthew tenses, head whipping around, to find the others just as confused as him. Even Chiron looks bewildered.
“Free me.”
Dark mist pours from Seymour’s mouth, solidifying into the form of a woman in black robes and a strange cloak. There are several shings, as many of them, Matthew included, draw their weapons.
“Find my prison.” Her voice is ancient, reverberating dully in the stillness. “Before the Ides of September. My power is running out, and the prison only grows stronger. This is the last time I will be able to speak to you.”
“Who are you?” Matthew asks, not lowering his sword. “Why should we free you?”
“Juno.” It’s Ricky who speaks this time, awestruck. “The goatskin cloak. You’re Juno Moneta.”
Juno. The Roman name for…Hera? Matthew does a double take at the woman. He’s met Hera before. This woman doesn’t seem like Hera at all.
“Ricky Shen.” Hera’s—Juno’s—face isn’t visible, but for some reason Matthew gets the feeling she’s smiling. “Your ties to magic are strong. It’s why you were the easiest for me to reach. Without your natural ability, it would have been impossible for me to help you breach the Mist barrier between both camps. You are the bridge. Your arrival here was inevitable.”
“You—” Ricky steps back. “What? What are you talking about? Did you do something to me?”
“The giant king rises. You must arrive before he destroys me. The spear, the sun, and the dove. Nightfall of the Ides of September. Free me.”
The dark mist vanishes. Time jolts back into motion, yet none of them move, as if they’ve been frozen instead.
For a long while, no one speaks.
Then, Gyuvin lets out a low whistle.
“Fuck.”
---
“Hera’s been kidnapped?”
“How is that possible?”
“The Ides of September is only a week from now—”
“Didn’t they just announce a quest yesterday?”
“Hanbin and Hao—”
“Prophecy—”
The campfire, normally a time for cheer and music, is nothing but chaos tonight. Anxious murmurs and harried questions ripple throughout the amphitheater instead of the usual singing. In the center, surrounded by fifty demigods clustered into their cabin groupings, the fire within the stone pit burns a crazed violet, enchanted to reflect the overall mood.
In the front, Chiron stomps one hoof on the stone. It takes a while for everyone to quiet again. Beside him, Yeseo shifts in her seat uncomfortably, as several campers turn to face her.
“Yeseo,” someone calls out. “Is this the Prophecy of Nine? Has it started?”
Olympus has been closed off for nearly a month now. Dionysus was inexplicably called back. Gaea, who has slumbered for eons, is now stirring, on the cusp of awakening, which apparently would mean the end of the world as they know it. The dead no longer stay dead, and the giants have risen, and now the queen of the gods herself has been captured.
Matthew knows the answer before Yeseo even says anything.
“Yes,” she says. “It has begun.”
The fire turns an eerie shade of green.
“There will be a quest,” she continues, above the new wave of murmurs, “so we will need a new prophecy.”
Yeseo closes her eyes. Smoke begins to curl on the ground, the exact shade of the fire. When she opens her eyes again, they glow the same emerald green.
“To the earth’s first move, three must save three
High in the north drowns the son of the sea
Trouble arises in the south and the west
The key to peace, as one they must wrest
A traitor’s veins blaze, the redeemed are lost
As death unleashes from waves of frost”
Wait.
Matthew catches Taerae’s eye across the campfire, and sees his own bafflement mirrored there. Jiwoong, too, and Gyuvin, and everyone else who had been there this morning.
“Hold on,” Gunwook protests, as two Apollo kids carry Yeseo away to rest. “That—that’s just the same prophecy. Hanbin and Hao got the same prophecy for their quest.”
Confused muttering breaks out again. The flames shift into a muted blue. Some begin asking if it’s a mistake, if it’s even possible for an Oracle to make a mistake. Yeseo had said they would need a new prophecy. Why did she just say the same one?
“It’s connected.” Under the Athena banner, Jongwoo stands up. The firelight’s long shadows flicker across his face. “‘The earth’s first move.’ Thanatos and Hera…they’re both part of Gaea’s first move.”
Oh. Gods. Matthew almost shudders from the implications of that alone. Gaea’s first move…is really on that big of a scale?
“That’s why the numbers didn’t match,” Jiwoong says, as the fire grows, dark and menacing. “It wasn’t just about Hanbin and Hao saving Thanatos. ‘Three must save three’ means three groups of heroes saving three different beings.”
“The prophecy mentioned three directions,” Matthew adds, playing it back in his head. “North, south, and west. Hanbin and Hao have to go north, since Thanatos is in Alaska. So Hera is either in the south or west, right?”
“But…” Gyuvin bites his lip nervously. “Then who’s the third the prophecy’s talking about?”
Silence. No one is able to answer his question.
To think, two powerful gods have already been taken, and there might still be more. Will the third be another god? Or worse? If this is how powerful Gaea and her forces are while she’s still asleep…how much worse would she be once fully awake?
Taerae clears his throat, drawing everyone’s attention. “Hera mentioned ‘the spear, the sun, and the dove.’ I assume that’s a hint for who should go on this quest, right?”
“I’ll go,” Jiwoong says. “I…I think Hera spoke to me, too. In a dream. I should go.”
“That’s strange,” someone from the Athena cabin says. “Why you?”
There’s some tittering, some gasps. Jiwoong, to his credit, stays composed, although Matthew knows him well enough by now to catch the pained twitch of his lips. It’s enough to make his blood boil.
“He’s a hero of the Titan war,” Taerae snaps, his glower deadlier than a blade. “He was recognized by the Olympians themselves. Or did you forget?”
No response. As expected. No one in their right mind would be brave or stupid enough to try to win a verbal spar with Taerae, even if it comes to Jiwoong’s past. Which Matthew really wishes they would stop trying to use against him.
“I want to come, too.” Taerae raises an eyebrow, a silent challenge for anyone to oppose him that once again goes unanswered. “The spear for Ares, and the dove for Aphrodite. That just leaves the sun for Apollo, right? I nominate Matthew.”
What the— “Me?” Matthew can’t help but stare, waiting for Taerae to admit that he’s just joking, but Taerae’s gaze is far too serious for his liking. “I don’t know…I don’t think I’m the best choice.”
“Yeah,” Jiwoong says. “Maybe we should go with someone else.”
That stings. Matthew knows he himself admitted it, but hearing Jiwoong agree still stings. When he looks over, Jiwoong isn’t even looking back.
Has Jiwoong’s opinion of him…really been this low? All this time?
“Don’t be stupid,” Taerae says, snapping him out of his spiral. “There’s no one better. You’re head counselor for a reason, you know.”
“He’s right.” Next to him, his half-sister Mikaela smiles kindly, bumping his shoulder. “It should be you.” Then, louder, “All in favor?”
A chorus of “ayes” from the rest of his cabin. Matthew feels his cheeks heat up, completely unrelated to the campfire.
“It’s decided, then,” Chiron says. He nods at the three of them, and Matthew tries not to let the growing pit in his stomach eat away at him until there’s nothing left. “We’ll discuss logistics tomorrow.”
The Prophecy of Nine has begun. The queen of the gods manipulated him into finding and traveling to the Greeks. And, to top it all off, he wasn’t even able to find Hao.
Yesterday definitely wasn’t one of Ricky’s better days.
With a sigh, he exits the cabin—the Iris cabin had insisted on hosting him for the night, which he was quite touched by—and heads to where he remembers the pegasus stables were. The sun is already quite high in its ascent, enough for him to feel its heat pressing to his skin. Everything about this camp—the constant bustling of activities, the idyllic greenery, the colorful cabins—is so similar to what he’s used to and yet so different, that it leaves his stomach twisted in knots and his brain spinning. Deja vu that isn’t actually deja vu. He can’t fathom how Hao was able to handle staying here for so long.
Absently, he tugs at the hem of his shirt. Its vivid purple hue is completely out of place in the scenery that is Camp Half-Blood. The gold letters—SPQR—gleam proudly in the sunshine, but Ricky can’t really bring himself to feel any pride. Not when Juno…
“You were the easiest for me to reach. You are the bridge. Your arrival here was inevitable.”
Her face, shadowed in darkness, featured far too much in his dreams last night. Juno, strings tied to her fingers, tugging at Ricky’s limbs as if he were just one of her puppets. That, along with the… other… things he saw…well. It’s safe to say he didn’t get much sleep last night.
“I will destroy your only chance of peace. You will learn to fear the bane of Athena.”
“Are you okay?”
Ricky jumps, whirling around, and there’s a sharp metallic sound as a blade of light falls from above like a guillotine.
“Holy shit!” The person in front of him leaps backwards, barely dodging it in time. “Are you insane?!”
“You scared me!” He huffs. This camper—Gyuvin?—didn’t exactly leave the most favorable impression, but… “Sorry. Are you okay?”
“Hey, I asked first.” Gyuvin smiles—he’s very quick to smile, Ricky’s noticed. “I’m fine. I heal quickly. Are you leaving? You don’t have to leave! You can stay longer if you want.”
Also very quick to speak, apparently. “I appreciate it, but…I shouldn’t. If Hao’s not here, then I should get going. I have other things to do.”
“Like what?”
Ricky raises his eyebrows, taken aback by his bold questioning. “I can’t exactly just tell you.”
“Why not?” Gyuvin had stopped him by the hearth, in the center of the cabin area, and its fire reflects in his earnest eyes. “You came here to ask Hao to help you with something, right? If you need help, you can tell us, too. What’s so wrong about that?”
“I—”
He cuts himself off. Confidential tasks assigned by praetors aren’t meant to be shared with the rest of the legion, but…it’s not like Gyuvin is a part of the legion…
No. What is he thinking? Gods, he meets one cute boy and now he suddenly forgets how to maintain self-control. No, not cute. Ugh, get it together, Ricky—
“Really, it’s fine,” he says, resolutely pushing away all distracting trains of thought. “And sorry again for, um, almost hurting you. I just didn’t sleep very well.”
“It’s okay. I understand. Honestly, I didn’t either.” Gyuvin sighs, stretching backwards slightly, as the sun catches in his brown hair and lightens strands of it into something gentler, caramel-like. “I had a really weird dream about a giant next to a purple bonfire…I think there were bones in his hair? It was creepy.”
Ricky’s blood runs cold.
“What?”
“Yeah, weird, right? I guess it was pretty tame, as far as demigod dreams go, but—”
“No, no.” Ricky’s mind is running a mile a minute, so fast it feels like smoke is going to pour from his ears. What is this? What’s happening? What does this mean? “Did he have white eyes? And did he call himself the bane of Athena?”
“Wh—” Gyuvin blinks. “How did you know?”
“I had the same dream,” Ricky breathes. He suddenly very much wants to sit down. “I thought it was an indication of something for my task…but why did you have the same dream?”
“I don’t know.” Gyuvin’s eyes have gone perfectly round, flitting nervously before locking back with Ricky’s. “Another giant…who was the giant made to destroy Athena? We can find Jongwoo—”
“Jongwoo? Are you looking for him, too?”
This time, Ricky is able to tamp down his reaction, as both of them face the one that’s approached them—a tall, well-built demigod with callused hands and intense dark eyes.
“Gunwook!” Gyuvin perks up, but only for a few seconds, as the other’s words process. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘too’?”
“Jongwoo was going to head to Georgia today—something about a quest for his mother.” Despite his clear franticness, his explanation is steady and measured. “But he said he’d come talk to me before leaving. I’ve been waiting for him for a while, but he never showed up, and the Athena cabin says they haven’t seen him since yesterday’s campfire.”
“What the…”
Dread sinks down to his toes. This…this is beginning to sound too similar to the very phenomenon he was asked to investigate. Increased monster activity in the south. Messengers and recon scouts going missing. If this Jongwoo person was also meant to head there…
“If he really did leave already, we might still be able to catch him,” Ricky says hurriedly. “We have to get him before—”
“It’s too late.”
All three of them freeze.
“You move too slowly, little heroes.” A sleepy, rumbling voice, that sounds as if it’s coming from the very ground underneath them. “My son has already taken him.”
The hearth, which had only been dimly lit, abruptly flares to life. Gunwook yanks both of them away, as the fire explodes in size. Within the flames, an image dances—one of the same giant, around the same bonfire, but this time there’s someone chained to a stake, hanging by the fire. Someone only vaguely familiar to Ricky, but judging by the horrified gasps from Gunwook and Gyuvin, it must be…
“Athena herself will not be able to stop us from spilling her most favored son’s blood.” A low, chilling chuckle, that sends a shiver down Ricky’s spine. “His death will lead to your end. You are doomed to fail.”
And, just as quickly as it had begun, the fire dies, and the voice is no more.
Even without it there, Ricky can still see the image of Jongwoo by the fire, a haunting image burned into his brain. He’s not sure what it all means—why Jongwoo’s death in particular would be so catastrophic, or how they managed to take him, or even what they can do—but he knows one thing for certain.
Three must save three.
This is the third.