Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Prologue: 5 Years and 6 Months Before the End of the World (Dom) 

“We may begin.”

A bright light flooded the room, leaving the world in a shock of white. Dom found he didn’t actually mind it. Something about the flash reminded him of a home he had long forgotten. A piece of himself that remained idle in the back of his mind. As his eyes adjusted, the sensation went away, leaving him to squirm in discomfort at the looming figures in front of him.

They formed a U-shape, each in various thrones, some of which sparked familiarity and others that didn't. Directly in front of him, a woman sat in a marbled chair, gray eyes sharp and curled hair worn loose under a golden laurel.

“Speak your name,” the woman said. Athena. Dom tried to process that. To process her. It seemed bizarre that Dom sat here, flimsy and mortal, while this creature of infinite power supposedly came from him. She was his daughter somehow. A daughter that had burst from his head.

He studied her face, but no fatherly warmth came to his chest. Only the fuzziest memory of a girl in armor dripping with ichor, a look of unbridled fear trapped in stormy eyes as she stared up at him.

“Dom,” he answered, fighting with every inch of his being not to sound like a coward as he spoke the word. Athena’s brow lifted. It wasn’t the name they wanted to hear. Nobody cared if Dom’s memories were scattered into the world’s most complicated jigsaw puzzle. Then again, he supposed that was his own fault. After starting to regain his memories years ago, he’d gone through quite an ordeal to make them stop.

But nobody here wanted to get into that. They didn’t want to know the lengths he had gone to silence certain voices. Certain images. Certain… truths. No. They wanted to hear how his soul - if he even had such a thing - was tied to someone else. Something else.

“Zeus,” he went with, even if the taste of it was foreign on his tongue.

A grumble went over the room. Dom couldn’t be sure, but he was almost positive that more eyes were watching him from the shadows. Was Percy Jackson here? Possibly. He seemed to be everywhere at times with those sea green eyes churning more dangerously than any hurricane. It was equally possible that other demigods hid in crevices he couldn’t see. Annabeth Chase? Leo Valdez? Or possibly one of Aphrodite’s many temperamental children.

“Zeus,” Athena greeted, nodding her head. “Do you understand why you’re here today?”

What a question. It could mean so many things. Was she referring to his birth? The fact that he was now a mortal when he had once reigned as king of the gods? Or possibly she meant to ask why they hadn’t just killed him yet and been done with this whole situation.

Unfortunately, she meant none of those. Because Dom did know why he was here today. It was the same reason three particular members of this new godly council looked especially pissed.

“Estelle Jackson,” he said. From her spot next to Athena, Hazel Levesque smoothed out her dress. Outside of Athena, she seemed the most composed. Certainly more so than either of her siblings. Bianca di Angelo’s fingers were wrapped tightly around the arms of her chair, red eyes gleaming with fury as Nico di Angelo pursed his lips, a finger pressed against his temple with barely concealed annoyance. The Warring Three. A miracle to get them in a room together without some sort of bloodbath happening. It really spoke to Athena’s power, quite frankly.

As a father, should he be proud?

“Estelle Jackson was to remain hidden in a safe location until her sixteenth birthday,” Athena agreed. “Yet, somehow, at the age of ten, she has been found unprotected, injured, and far from her home with you.”

Yep. That was indeed the situation.

“And alive,” Dom pointed out. “She’s very much alive, and I would like that noted in an official record somewhere. There were a few points where we weren’t sure that was going to be the case, but thanks to me, she is, in fact, alive.” He considered. “So, really, she was protected. And that injury was really minor, so…”

“I’m sorry,” Artemis said. “I was under the impression she was poisoned…?”

“Barely,” Dom assured her. “Obviously not enough to kill her. I would argue that poisoning actually builds character-”

“I would find a different argument,” Hazel Levesque cut in flatly.

“No,” Hermes said. “Let him finish.” Dom’s heart sank at the realization of where this was going. “How about you tell me how getting poisoned builds character?” Fuck. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Go on,” Hermes continued coldly. “Because you didn’t seem to think that when you let your daughter poison my son in your place.”

Dom swallowed, lowering his eyes. “Well,” he tried weakly. “I never said I had any character…”

Apollo cupped his hands around his mouth. “Kick his ass!” he called. When nobody responded, he looked around. “Together now. Kick! His! Ass! Kick! His! Ass! Kick-”

“Do you have any idea how serious this is?” Poseidon interrupted, as if he weren’t the one who had lost the child in question.

Dom felt his mouth drop. “I didn’t take her,” he tried, and Apollo gave him a thumbs down. “I didn’t! She found me!”

Instantly, annoyance flooded the room.

“Oh, how convenient-”

“Nothing is ever his fault, is it?”

“-same shit, even as a mortal.”

“Why would she go looking for you?” Dionysus asked over the complaints. “She isn’t supposed to know about you!”

“I barely know about me!” Dom tried. From her seat, Hera shifted, lip caught under teeth as she anxiously watched him. “If anything, you should be thanking me! Your precious prophecy princess would have been dead if I didn’t step in-”

“I’m going to try and get my chant going again,” Apollo interrupted. He turned to Bianca. “Now, I don’t want to say you have to join in, but I would like to point out that Ares would surely be on board with kicking this mortal’s ass if he were here right now.”

Bianca leaned back in her throne, eyes still fixed on Dom as she answered Apollo. “I don’t think we should kick his ass,” she mused. Demeter turned to look at her, a hint of surprise in her eyes. “​I think a lot of problems could be solved if we just kill him instead.”

A few people nodded as if this answer made more sense coming from Bianca.

“Jesus Christ. Not everything can be solved with murder,” Nico groaned. There was something oddly existential about a god swearing to another deity, but Dom didn’t let that distract him from Nico’s complaining. “It didn’t work when the gods tried to kill us. It won’t work now.” Bianca rolled her eyes. “You do see how you’re becoming a hypocrite, right? Does anyone else want to tell her-?”

“As if it is at all the same thing!” Bianca hissed.

“Nico, we all know how you’re anti-murder,” Hazel said, giving her brother a cool look. “Or maybe just anti-death. At least when it benefits you…”

Nico’s eyes shot towards his other sister, heat filling the room as all of their tempers began to flare. Shadows stained the floor of Nico’s throne while something gold dripped from Hazel’s. Bianca’s began to spark, the flickers of flames skirting over to where Dom was sitting, sizzling against his ankle.

“Here we go again,” Hermes sighed.

“You know what?” Nico asked, and the council collectively groaned. “Half of me is convinced I should turn back time just to let you die. At least I wouldn’t have to hear you constantly-”

“Do it,” Bianca cut in. “Then we’d have one less pretentious voice on this council to deal with.”

“Do not do it,” Athena sighed.

“Better pretentious than psychopathic,” Hazel shot back.

“You-”

“Let’s focus,” Athena interrupted again. The three each went silent, glaring at one another. The heat that had risen began to simmer down, leaving only remnants of their powers behind. Luckily, Dom was unscathed. Unluckily, the attention was not back on him.

“Well, if you didn’t take Estelle,” Bianca finally said, redirecting the conversation. “How exactly did she leave the safety of her home? And who decided her home was with a god?” she added to Poseidon. Dom wondered if anyone had bothered to tell her that she was now a god. It was bewildering to see someone with divinity hate that very same divinity.

“Yes, who would decide to put Percy Jackson’s little sister with the godly father of Percy Jackson?” Nico murmured. Bianca’s expression darkened. “I thought the two of you told each other everything?”

Bianca’s nostrils flared. “You didn’t know either!”

“Doesn’t change the fact you didn’t,” Hazel cut in evenly.

“She left to find the Summoner,” Dom said, a little confused. Everyone turned back to him. A heavy silence sat between them. “I… I thought everyone knew that,” he said uncertainly. Based on the looks on everyone’s faces, they did not.

Huh. Would you look at that? Dom actually had the upper hand.

“What does my daughter have to do with the Summoner?” Aphrodite asked. A few people jumped when she spoke, almost as if they had forgotten she was there. Dom certainly had. He felt his previous excitement at being someone with coveted knowledge shrink.

Before he could answer, Poseidon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he leaned into his throne. “I think I know,” he whispered. Aphrodite’s eyes narrowed at him, but Poseidon only exhaled slowly before looking at Dom. “I assume she told you her side of the story?” he asked. Dom nodded. “From the beginning?” Dom nodded again.

Athena looked between them all, slowly nodding. “Very well,” she said. “Then tell us from the beginning.”

Chapter 1: 6 Years and 1 Day Before the End of the World (Estelle) 

As always, Estelle’s dreams started with Percy.

Since turning eight, it had become something of a regular thing to see various whispers of her mysterious brother’s life. Most of the time, the dreams were uneventful. Estelle would watch as he traveled the world or lay out on some beach, soaking up the sun. Usually, the blonde boy was with him. Castor.

This time they were on a yacht, pouring over some books spread out over a table in the kitchen. Estelle walked over, grateful the dreams dulled some of the background noise and obnoxious smells that tended to obscure the dryland.

“I still think America,” Percy was saying, stretching his arms over his head. “Rome and France turned up nothing… Columbia didn’t pan out… or Greece…”

“Do we have more yogurt?” Castor asked, opening the fridge.

“Top shelf,” Percy said without looking up. He tapped a pen on one of the books. “I mean, I don’t get it. The Labyrinth didn’t turn up anything either. What did your dad and Ariadne say?”

Castor pulled out a yogurt and shrugged. “I say this with love, but they aren’t going to tell me a damn thing about my mother when I have the Heretic himself tagging along to find her.”

Percy looked offended, which seemed unreasonable given everything Estelle had heard about him.

“I’m not going to hurt your mom.”

“I know that. My dad is understandably wary,” Castor said, pulling out a chair to sit across from him. Percy sighed, running a hand over his face. Estelle curiously leaned forward, studying the collage of tattoos that went down from her brother’s shoulder to his wrist. Unfamiliar constellations dotted his skin, an assortment of writing underneath each. She recognized the name Silena under one of them. Evelyn. Valentina. Mitchell. Dozens and dozens of constellations all on his arm. Percy lifted his hand to his hair, and she caught sight of Castor’s name on his wrist. “It actually has given me a theory.”

Percy’s eyes glanced up. “Please say Japan. We haven’t been to Japan yet.”

“New York.”

“Boo.”

“Specifically, Olympus.”

“Ew,” Percy muttered and flopped back in his chair. Castor snorted. “So you think your dad and Ariadne have her? And are keeping that horrible necklace that makes her crazy on?”

“I didn’t say that,” Castor said hastily. “But we haven’t searched there, and maybe some gods are trying to get the necklace off themselves. Remember how desperate my dad was to get the thing off her? Our bestie Jason was specifically enlisted by him to complete the task.”

“Still not a fan of you calling my ex our bestie.”

“Do you prefer arch nemesis? Frenemy? Furry-in-law?”

“How is he an in-law?”

“You're right. One could argue he’s your cousin.” Castor grinned at Percy’s horrified face as he got up to throw his yogurt away, humming Sweet Home Alabama as he ducked to avoid Percy throwing a book at him. Estelle didn’t get the joke. She had heard fishermen above play the song alongside their other ugly music, but she wasn’t sure what it had to do with this Jason person.

“Well, I don’t think we’d be welcomed in Olympus,” Percy said, shoving a book away. “Unless Bianca calls in a favor…”

“Oh, because Bianca has political sway,” Castor snorted. Percy stuck his tongue out. “I can ask Hazel if she can escort us.” Percy pursed his lips. “Don’t look at me that way. My side of this future war is just more likable. That’s why I fit in so well,” he added, and Percy’s lips quirked upwards in dim amusement.

“Oh, and I’m not likable?”

“Not in the slightest,” Castor agreed, squatting in front of Percy’s chair. He tilted his head up to kiss him, and Estelle grimaced. Gross.

Percy sighed and put his head on Castor’s shoulder. “Tomorrow Estelle is turning ten,” he murmured. “Do you think we’re going to get this figured out before she turns sixteen?” he asked, pulling away. “I mean, we spent seven years doing this and-”

“Hey,” Castor cut in before he could finish. “We haven’t spent all seven of those years just looking for my mother. We’ve done a lot of other things. Good things. I say we only panic when we’re three years out and have no progress.”

Percy smiled weakly before biting his thumb, looking out at the water splashing up against the side of the boat. “Triton contacted me,” he said, and Castor paused at that. “He’s leaving Atlantis.”

“What?” Castor and Estelle asked at the same time. Triton wasn’t leaving Atlantis. Her godly brother had never been more than a few nauticals away from her. The idea that he would be leaving Atlantis was laughable. “I didn’t even know you and Triton spoke,” Castor added.

Estelle hadn’t known that either. She wasn’t technically allowed to know much about Percy, so she had never asked, but on the rare occasion someone dared to breathe the name, Triton had never seemed enthused.

Percy shrugged. “We don’t, really,” he said. “But he helps keep me updated on Estelle and thought it was important for me to know he was leaving.” A pause. “He’s going after the Summoner.”

Silence.

“Oh, come on,” Castor muttered, standing up to throw his spoon in the sink with an infuriating clang. “Him too? There is no such thing as the Summoner. I swear, Nico is making it up to distract everyone from plotting against him.”

Percy tapped his fingers on the table. “You think so? It isn’t really like him…”

“What do you mean?” Castor snorted. “He was the same way as a kid. Causing trouble and too smart for his own good. Look, I’ll go and talk to him myself. Believe it or not, he still has a soft spot for me.” Castor swept back invisible hair, and Percy rolled his eyes with a fond smile. “The guy may have ultimate power, but he is still in his early twenties.”

“As opposed to you, someone much more mature in his mid-twenties?” Percy said with a very serious nod.

Castor pointed at him. “You get it. I’ll get him to confess to making the whole thing up, and we can just move on.”

Percy clicked his tongue. “Be my guest,” he said, stretching out slightly in his chair. “But if the Summoner is a real thing and you have the audacity to suggest otherwise to his face, then know I am not helping you with how pissy he’ll get.”

At that, Castor grimaced and pulled a drink out of the fridge. “....please do not let me be wrong in that case,” he muttered, and Estelle felt a pressure on her shoulder. It made the scene blurry, like someone had gone and switched a knob on her head.

She wanted to stay. To learn more about Percy and this Summoner person, but the pressure on her shoulder kept shaking until the world went dark, and she found herself curled on the jelly padding of her bed.

“Hey,” a voice whispered. Estelle squeezed her eyes shut before letting them flutter open. “Time to get up and make some waves, Stella.” Triton’s face came into focus. Good. He was here. Not leaving Atlantis like Percy thought. Idiot.

She reached out to grab his hand. “Hi,” she mumbled. “Have the bells even rung yet?” she asked, rolling over.

Triton’s hand gently pulled her back. “No, we need to leave before then.”

Wait.

Estelle sat up, rubbing her eyes to squint. Triton wasn’t in his usual armor with the fancy clasps. He was in a brown cape with a big hood obscuring his face. A leather bag peeked out with the strap over his shoulder, and his conch was safely strapped to his waist.

“Leave?” she repeated slowly. “Where are we going?” Triton grabbed a bag and pulled her out of bed, placing the straps on her shoulders. “Hello?” she asked, shaking her head to wake herself up. “Where are we going?”

“To the dryland - just for a bit,” Triton added when she made a face. “You said you wanted to see a Cabin, right?”

Ooh, okay. Estelle hadn’t realized a Cabin was in the cards. Cabin with a capital C. Not a little c. Her mortal mother had a cabin that she had seen. That was all well and good, but Estelle had yet to see a Cabin. Such a place of worship was typically reserved for gods and devout followers of the New Religion.

Giving a big yawn, she rolled out of bed, reaching around absently for her bag of oysters. As obnoxious as it was, her family never let her go anywhere without them. They were training weapons, these oysters, and Poseidon seemed very keen for Estelle to be able to fight in any given circumstance.

Sure enough, the moment she stood up, Triton pointed a sword in her direction. Nonplussed, Estelle plucked an oyster out of her bag and cracked it open like a pistachio. They were thankfully easier to open than the oysters you ate, which required knives and patience to open.

Estelle had hoped a sword might be in this particular oyster. As it was, the pink pearl inside looked promising, but when she plucked it out of the soft muscle, it shimmered into a jellyfish plushie.

…boo.

“What am I supposed to do with this?” she complained, holding up the toy to Triton. He already seemed annoyed she had taken so long, but Estelle didn't much care. Who out there were they so concerned about attacking her anyway?

“Be creative,” Triton said. “They are training shells for a reason. You need to learn to fight with anything.” Wordlessly, Estelle threw the stuffed animal at his face. Except in the water, it didn't have too much force behind it and just sort of floated. “I don't know what I expected,” Triton muttered. He tapped her with the flat part of his sword. “You’re dead.”

“Finally.”

“Not funny,” Triton said, flicking her forehead. “You can use it to distract someone while you stab them with a knife, choke them with it-”

“How does one choke someone with a stuffed jellyfish?”

Triton made a face at her. “Well, you won’t ever know if you don’t try,” he said snidely. Estelle made a face in return. “Come on. At least try not to slow me down.”

Swatting the stuffed toy out of sight, she scurried after him, almost skipping with excitement. Maybe it was the buoyancy of the water or just her happiness, but she felt like she could fly. A Cabin! Her! She got to see a Cabin!

According to the tales, gods worshipped in cabins because that was where the Voyager grew up. The Voyager, as all knew, was the most important religious figure to the gods. She was the brave soul who left the Underworld of mortal spirits to try to find where gods went after they died. If the Voyager were to return with answers, then pretty much all the universe’s mysteries would be solved.

Estelle’s mortal mother said the Voyager’s real name was Silena Beauregard, and she was Estelle’s older sister. That was bewildering enough to wrap her head around, but the Voyager wasn't the only figure of the New Religion that Estelle was related to. She was also the sister of the Heretic, also known as Percy Jackson.

This is where things were blurred. The gods loved Silena. They didn't seem to love Percy. When Estelle learned the mortal words ‘demon’ or ‘evil’, they were almost always followed by ‘you know, like the Heretic’.

Poseidon didn't like that much, but other sea creatures whispered. The strange part was that Silena and Percy were always linked closely in their tales. Estelle thought they were friends, but neither could be more opposite. While Silena was seen as a light, Percy seemed to be the boogeyman looming in the dark.

All of this to say, Estelle was hopeful that her first visit to an official Cabin would provide some answers that nobody else seemed to give. Holding her breath, she followed Triton out, walking close as he led them out of Atlantis until their heads broke above the surface.

Instantly, Estelle was berated by sound. Crashing waves. Barking sea gulls. Animals chattering. The smell of salt filled her nose, and wind whipped against her bare skin, leaving her wanting to turn right back around to return to the water.

Poseidon, despite ensuring Estelle could survive underwater, hadn’t quite understood that her senses in and out of water didn't quite translate. She wasn't actually his daughter. She couldn’t hear the sounds of ocean currents or smell coral like other sea creatures could.

It made the dryland…overwhelming in comparison.

“Take a breath through your mouth,” Triton advised. He understood. Not everyone did, but Triton said he had a similar distaste for dryland despite being made for the sea. Estelle adored him for this similarity - this piece of them that made them feel like blood siblings in a way.

“…it tastes bad,” Estelle muttered when she gulped a mouthful of salty air. Triton grimaced, subtly parting the water for them to walk onto the beach. It wasn't one she was familiar with. When Estelle went to dryland, it was typically in the area her mortal mother frequented. This was…different. Emptier. Rocky shores. A cliff high above. And among the small sliver of land beside them was a cabin.

Or a Cabin, rather.

Estelle considered the building with curiosity. It was only one story high with a wooden exterior that was worn from the waves and rain wearing it down. A stone chimney came out of the side, and a padded lock sat at the door.

“Not much to look at, huh?” Triton asked, shaking off the water from his hands. His tails had transitioned to legs, but remained scaled, the skin slowly morphing underneath.

Estelle reached out, touching the door with awe.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Triton stared at her. “…okay,” he finally muttered. “You live in a palace of pearls, but sure.” He brought out a key and placed it in the lock. “Worshippers of the New Religion get one,” he said when he caught Estelle staring.

“I worship the New Religion.”

“No, you don't,” Triton said and pushed the door open. Estelle made a face at him before shuffling inside.

The first thing to note about a Cabin with a capital C was that the inside was possibly the most colorful thing Estelle had ever seen. Tiny jewels adorned each wall, making up images. Estelle gaped at them, fixated on what looked to be a beautiful island falling into a glistening hole of red and black. The wall opposite showed a boy with a trident standing in front of a hulking man with lightning. She looked up at the ceiling, showing even more images. A girl pointing an arrow at someone in a net. A boy looming over a casket. Another girl doused in gold. Athena herself stood over them, lightning in hand.

“What are these?” Estelle asked, fingers hovering over the jeweled image of the island. Triton shut the door, glancing around before gesturing for her to sit on a mat in the center of the room.

“Stories,” Triton answered and sat across from her. Low tables sat on either side of them, filled with items Estelle didn’t really recognize, but assumed they must be of some importance. A ring, a journal, armor, a hairclip… perhaps things that belonged to the Voyager? Or someone else of importance?

“Okay,” Triton said, wringing his hands together. “Estelle. I need you to understand something very, very important.” She frowned at him. “What I’m about to tell you breaks every single oath and promise I’ve made to everyone I love and respect.”

Oh, dear.

“Then don’t tell me it,” Estelle said, a little taken aback. Was it frustrating that she didn’t know things? Absolutely. But she had no interest in putting Triton in a bad position just because she was curious about the shadowed pieces of her world. She liked her home. She liked her family. If adults wanted to keep secrets, so be it. Estelle liked how things were.

“I’m telling you because…” Triton trailed off and licked his lips. “If I don’t do it now, I might not ever get a chance to tell you.” He looked around again. “And I know eventually everyone is going to try to tell you a thousand different things. I want to make sure you have the right foundation for all of this.”

“What do you mean?” Estelle asked slowly. A heavy pause followed. If Estelle weren’t getting so anxious, she might have appreciated how well the Cabin blocked out the sounds of the outside world. For now, it was simple silence and breathing.

“I’m leaving,” Triton finally answered. Estelle’s heart jumped. Was the Percy in her dream right? Was Triton going after whoever they had been talking about? She opened her mouth, but Triton silenced her with a shake of his head. “Okay. How do I explain any of this…” he muttered, running a hand over his face. “Um. Right. Okay. Death.”

“Death?”

“Death,” Triton repeated. “When mortals die, they go to the Underworld. The Fields of Asphodel, the Fields of Punishment, Elysium, or even the Isle of the Blessed.”

Estelle nodded. “I know,” she said, a little offended that he thought she didn’t know this. “I’m mortal. That’s where I’ll go when I die.”

“Right,” Triton agreed. “But, the Elysium we have now is not the one we’ve had for the past thousands of years.”

…that was strange. “What do you mean?” she asked. Triton opened his mouth again, but Estelle beat him there. “You got a new Elysium? Why? What happened to the old one?”

“Well-”

“Did you get a new Fields of Asphodel, too?”

“No-”

“What about the Fields of Punishment?”

Triton closed his eyes. “Sometimes,” he whispered. “Your blunt and reasonable nature makes me forget you are, in fact, a human child.” Estelle pouted at that. Well, then. Whatever. “If I may finish?” he asked pointedly, and when Estelle shrugged, he pointed to the wall with the island falling into the hole. “There was a big war when you were young. We call it the War of Divinity now. It’s what officially started the New Religion. Gods started dying, half-bloods got divinity, and Gaea ultimately fought Tartarus.” His finger slid down the wall. “During the final battle where everyone worked to get Gaea to sleep, Elysium - and only Elysium - fell into Tartarus and all the souls inside it perished.”

“What?” Estelle asked, startled. She had heard many stories of the New Religion, but not this one. “Where did they go?”

At that, Triton hesitated. “Look, gods care about the Voyager because they don’t know what happens to them when they die. Demigods care about the Voyager because souls who are lost in Tartarus…” he trailed off. “If they’re already dead, nobody knows what happens to them either.”

“No,” Estelle frowned because that was wrong. “You turn into a monster if you die in Tartarus. And that hasn’t happened in many, many years.”

Triton pursed his lips. “If you are alive and die in Tartarus… yes. But if you are dead and die in Tartarus… nobody is sure.” He reached forward and patted her leg. “And many, many years is technically correct for you, but… new monsters have been created more recently than you’ve been led to believe.” Estelle stared. No. Wait, what? No. How? No. Her brain felt a little like it was full of the peanut butter Tyson shared with her. “And now there are more.”

What did that even mean?

“Demigods have gone missing and new monsters are popping up,” Triton said, shaking his head. “People are starting to say there is something out there luring them into Tartarus.”

“The Summoner,” Estelle murmured. Triton’s brows raised. “I heard about them in a dream.”

“...of course you did,” Triton sighed. Absently, he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “There’s a lot more to this, Stella. A lot of things we don’t have time to get into, but there are a lot of people and things that could be causing this. Another war is expected in six years, and people have been plotting in the background for a while now. I need to go see what’s going on.”

“Why you?” Estelle asked, almost a little offended. Triton was a god. He had no business being near Tartarus when his soul was not a certainty. If he died, then the only hope for him would be the Voyager. Estelle didn’t see why they couldn’t send someone else to investigate this.

“Because I’m choosing to,” Triton said. “You’ll have enough on your plate soon enough. You don’t need to worry about this random mystery in addition to everything else.”

What else would be on Estelle’s plate? People sometimes alluded to some importance she might have, but nobody gave many details. Honestly, Estelle kind of didn’t believe them. Her legendary sister and brother seemed like the type of people who should be taking care of these sorts of things. Estelle’s job was to play with fish and be given presents.

Turning around, Triton reached behind him to grab what looked to be a blue leather notebook. On the front, a note was taped securely in pretty handwriting.

To Estelle - Do NOT open until you’re 16

Hm. Estelle stared down, not accepting the book when Triton held it out to her. The instructions seemed pretty clear to her, but maybe Triton didn’t see them.

“You’re kind of a goody two-shoes,” Triton informed her with a snort. He flipped open the first page, but to her confusion, it wasn’t… really filled much. Estelle took it cautiously, checking the pages to find that only a few actually had anything on them. “Percy is making this for you. He and I might have been doing some… illegal tampering on the side to make sure you get good information when you’re older.” Triton tapped the open page. “He has a book of his own. Whenever he writes something down, it shows up in this one. He just… thinks he has six years to actually write it.” Right. So why was she getting it now? Triton smiled weakly. “Look, I’m going to be fine, but on the off chance something happens to me, I want you to know this exists and it will help you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to you,” Estelle said, practically repeating his words, but more to cement them. Triton nodded. She held the book to her chest. “Promise?” she asked, holding out her pinky finger. It was something she and her mortal mother did. Triton grimaced before linking fingers with her.

“Remember,” he said. “I never gave you this book, I never took you here, and you don’t know anything, okay?” he whispered. Estelle nodded. She wanted to argue, but she also didn’t see the point. Triton would do what he wanted despite her concern. The most she could do was have him promise to return unharmed.

Softly, he leaned forward to kiss the top of her head. “Be good,” he added, standing up. “But not too good, okay? Don’t let anyone push you around.” Estelle nodded again. With one last smile, Triton ruffled her hair, opening the room. She could get home herself. The first thing Poseidon taught her was how to get back home from practically anywhere. Still, Estelle wished Triton would at least escort her home. It would make this not as foreboding.

The door shut with a click.

Estelle stared at the book. Not knowing what else to do, she flipped it open to one of the first pages. The Heretic had given her a gift… and a god and helped her receive it. That was confusing in itself. Didn’t gods hate the Heretic? Why would Triton help him? Castor also seemed confused by the idea of them even talking in her dream.

Shaking her head, she looked down, fingers roaming over the first.

Estelle - It kills me that I don’t get to know if you prefer Stella or Essie or something else entirely. I hope that one day you and I will get to sit down and you can tell me everything about yourself. I’d like to imagine you aren’t too different from how you were as a baby. Silly and laughing and slobbering over everything. Hopefully, I can find out. For now, though, I can only guess what you like and believe.

If you’re reading this, you better be sixteen - or just about to turn sixteen. It’s for a version of you that has already had a happy childhood. A safe one. I’ve done a lot of questionable things in my life, but finding a way to give you more time to be a kid is not one of them.

As for what this is and who I am? Excellent question. You’ll be sure to have a lot of them, but I got you covered. My name is Percy Jackson - you’re older brother. Maybe you’ve heard of me, maybe you haven’t. I’m going to operate on the assumption you know nothing because, well, you aren’t allowed to know anything.

Here’s the thing, Estelle. The real world is… very complicated and messy. I wanted you to have some years away from it all to be happy, but the truth is, you eventually need information to make world-changing decisions. That’s what this book is. Everything you need to know - about the gods, the demigods, the wars, and the war that is yet to come.

I’ve tried to simplify things for you the best I could. It may not be enough. Legally, I am not actually allowed to tell you anything, but you’ll find that I’m not a big rule follower. If I had been, then I would be a clump of shrubs somewhere on Olympus.

Nevertheless, here we are. Here you are. Try to use this as a guide. A lifeline to the answers you need. It all comes down to you, despite my efforts to have that not be the case.

But you’ll make the right decision. I know you will. Until then, I’ll keep guessing what you like to be called.

- Percy

“What?” Estelle whispered. What decision? She placed a hand over her mouth, trying and failing to decide if she should be panicking. The only comfort she had was that everyone kept telling her this would be a problem when she was sixteen. Not ten. Amphitrite always told her to listen and wait when things got confusing. Maybe this is what she meant. Maybe she could just wait for Triton to return, and he’d tell her more because he always gave in to what she wanted.

Shutting the book with a snap, Estelle got up, taking a final look at the Cabin before walking out the door.

Chapter Text

A month went by, and Triton did not return.

Estelle didn’t quite care for that.

Amphitrite and Poseidon both refused to acknowledge Triton’s absence. They carried on as if nothing was amiss… but things were amiss. They were very much amiss. Estelle couldn’t stand the silence of it, but she also couldn’t think of anything to say that would fill it.

Why wasn’t anyone looking for him? A month was surely too long to be missing, right? Poseidon would lose his mind if Estelle were missing for longer than thirty minutes. How was Triton allowed to be unaccounted for a month?

And then a second month went by. In Estelle’s humble opinion, there was no excuse for such a length of time. She tried valiantly to bring it up with Poseidon, who only aimed to distract her.

“Go spar,” he told her, gently placing another bag of oysters in her arms and ushering her out the door.

Spar. They wanted her to spar? To play with toy oysters for fights she’d never have since she rarely left the sea? The only monster Estelle had seen was on her eighth birthday. The birthday that she had met that mysterious blue-haired girl. Jaime. Estelle had kept the piece of paper she had given her. The paper that apparently had the address of someone named Lacy, who could help her with any trouble she ran into.

…would this count as trouble?

As she sat in her room, absently playing with the paper, Estelle wondered. If Poseidon and Amphitrite refused to help their son, maybe she should find someone who would. This Lacy person might know more about the Summoner. Castor didn’t seem to think he was real, but clearly Triton did… and something must have happened if there was still no word from him.

Estelle had even been as bold as to ask about the Summoner, but nobody seemed to have answers. Servants frowned at her in confusion, and guards laughed, saying there was no such thing. Either they didn’t know what she was talking about or were lying.

The whole thing left her flipping through the book Triton had given her more and more. She had read and reread Percy’s tidbits and words multiple times, but there was still so much empty space between explanations. And nothing about the Summoner.

It felt like she was bordering on insanity.

At the very least, she went to sleep hoping that another dream with Percy might provide her with answers. For weeks, she hadn’t seen her brother or Castor in the depths of her subconscious.

Until now, at least.

It must be a dream, given she wasn’t in the ocean or the beach, but a forest. Or what she assumed was a forest. She had never been in one to really know all that much about what constituted a forest or woods or just a lot of trees.

Half her expected Percy and Castor to appear, bickering and laughing as they always were, but in the darkness, there was only silence.

And then a twig snapped. Starlight streamed through the trees, illuminating a running figure. A man, perhaps? No. Not a man. A monster - or a god? Estelle wasn’t sure. She had yet to see a mortal with two faces, but she supposed she couldn’t rule it out.

“Hello?” she called as the creature continued to run through the trees. One face kept looking over its shoulder, both sets of eyes wild with a fear Estelle had never seen before. The look of it almost made her want to run alongside him.

Just as he reached where Estelle stood, an arrow streaked through the air, thudding into the two-faced man’s shoulder. With a hiss, he fell forward, giving a choked scream. Estelle stumbled back, squinting to try and see where the arrow had come from, but nobody appeared.

Instead, someone dropped to the ground from the tree directly above them. It took a moment for Estelle to recognize who.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?” Percy asked, frowning down at the stranger. The man’s first face gave a shuddering breath as the other began to hyperventilate.

“Please,” the first face murmured. “I’ve apologized for past mistakes. I’ve been punished enough, I swear.”

Percy looked down, unimpressed as he knelt in front of him, flicking the end of the arrow sticking out of the shoulder. The man’s second face made a noise of pain.

“Have you?” Percy asked, glancing over at the shadows where the arrow had come from. “Janus, I’ll be honest, Evelyn dousing you in poison a few years ago doesn’t erase thousands of years of evil in my eyes.”

“I was wrong,” Janus’s first face tried. “I was… I was… wrong… Especially when it came to those demigods. I see that-”

“Funny how people realize that only after others force them to be held accountable,” Percy muttered. He brought out a pen, and Janus flinched. “It makes me think you aren’t actually all that sorry.” With a flick of his thumb, the top of the pen came off. Slowly, the tip of the pen sharpened, forming a bronze blade that kept growing until it touched Janus’s throat.

“You can’t do this!” Janus’s second face spat back. “Athena forbade-”

“Please!” the first face wailed.

Percy snorted. “If I had been much of a rule follower, I wouldn’t be here, would I?” he mused. Janus said nothing to that. “At any rate, I’m not here to kill you. Though I’m not sure anyone would notice if I did. Hazel is the goddess of choices now, isn’t she?” he asked. “I don’t think we need you…”

Another snap came from a few feet away. Percy looked up, nonplussed at whoever was hiding. Whoever had shot the arrow, possibly. He stood up, running a hand over his mouth as he watched Janus with pursed lips.

“My brother is missing,” he finally said. Janus’s first face squeezed its eyes shut, whispering a prayer as the second sneered in response. “My godly one. Triton. My understanding is that he went to find the Summoner.” Janus didn’t answer. “Do you happen to know anything about the Summoner?” Percy asked.

Janus’s two faces answered at once:

“No-”

“Yes!”

Percy lifted a brow, eyes expectant as the two faces began hissing at each other. After a few moments, they went quiet, a bead of golden ichor pooling around the arrow still embedded in their shoulder.

“I…” the first face finally relented. “There are rumors that something is luring things into Tartarus.”

“I didn’t ask for rumors,” Percy said flatly, poking Janus’s bad shoulder with his sword. “What do you know?”

Janus shuddered on the ground. Estelle shifted closer to him. She wasn’t sure she liked this side of Percy. Everyone talked about him so callously, but she had yet to see him so… hardened. Her dreams only consisted of sweet moments. Happiness. Laughter. Maybe some tension from time to time, but…

Nothing like this. Estelle did not like this.

“I don’t know a lot,” Janus finally whispered. “I just saw him once. I… I was far away. It was only a glimpse,” he managed. Percy waited. “It came for a demigod girl. She was young. I don’t know much other than it came from the shadows and handed her a mask. She put it on, and they both disappeared.”

Percy frowned at that. “A…mask?” he repeated. “And the demigod girl? Who was she?” Janus flinched. “You don’t know,” Percy muttered with a roll of his eyes. “Of course, not. How do you know this thing was the Summoner?”

At that, one of Janus’s faces peered up, smacking its lips together. “Everything just seemed to… move towards it. Like, it was all you had been looking for. It guided you. If it called, you came.” Another pause. “I just knew,” he murmured. “If I stayed a moment longer, if I had even gotten closer, I think it would have sucked me in…”

Percy’s blade lowered, eyes suddenly uncertain as he looked back out toward the shadows. “And what did it look like?”

This time, Janus didn’t hesitate.

“A mask. Rags that came to threads.” His first face licked his lips. “I… what else do you want?” he asked, voice wavering.

Percy swallowed, lips pursing. “Nothing,” he finally said. In one fluid movement, he reached over and yanked the arrow from Janus’s shoulder. A cry of pain came as ichor flew over the ground, smearing in the dirt. “Go ahead and get out of here.”

Janus did not need to be told twice. He scrambled to his feet, still bleeding, and raced further into the woods as Percy stood there, clearly unimpressed. After a few seconds, he sighed, tilting his head up to the sky.

“I don’t like this,” he said, and the shadows moved beside him. “Is it a new god? A new monster?” he asked the shadows and then shook his head. After a few moments, he capped his sword. “Come on. I promised I’d pick Castor up some gummy worms,” he sighed, and the forest faded away.

That was it. That was all she got.

If the dream was supposed to be reassuring… It failed. Estelle tried to reason with herself. Surely Percy would now go after Triton himself now that he knew the Summoner was real. And Percy was very skilled at these things, it seemed. That should comfort her.

Except… Triton was a god. And Estelle felt a stab of worry every time she thought of the cruel gleam in her brother’s eyes. Even in his journal, he warned her of gods - not a single kind word spoken about them. Would he help Triton?

Would anyone?

In the end, this cultivated into one final question: what was she supposed to do about it?

Luckily, Estelle had a very informative advisor to speak to her on such matters. Which was why she found herself back on dryland, a blue backpack on her shoulders and headphones hanging around her neck in case the sounds got to be too much. It was late morning, right after breakfast, which probably meant mortals were waiting for visitors.

Sure enough, as soon as she knocked, the door opened.

“Good morning, Estelle!” Mr. Blofis greeted her.

Estelle liked the Blofis family. They were endearing in an odd, mortal sort of way.

She met them on the beach some odd years ago with her mother. A father and son who lived nearby and, according to her mother, were very sweet. The father was a teacher who had moved from the city to raise his son. Estelle once asked what he taught, and the answer was English, which seemed like a strange answer. But maybe mortals weren’t born knowing English. Perhaps they had a different language and needed to be taught English like Estelle was taught Greek.

At any rate, the son was who she was here to see. Jordan. An exhausting boy, but she found him as tolerable as one could be.

“STELLA!”

That would be him.

Jordan flew down the stairs, overjoyed to find her in the doorway. Mr. Blofis had already stepped inside, though Estelle already knew he would be on the way to the kitchen to call her mortal mother. He always did when she came in. It was as if he needed to be sure that she was supposed to be at his house.

“You know,” Jordan said, shutting the front door. “We can go to your house to play too sometimes.”

“My house is underwater,” Estelle informed him. “And I’m not here to play.”

Jordan narrowed his eyes at her. “Your house can’t be underwater. People can’t breathe underwater.”

“I can.”

“Cannot.”

“Can too.”

“You always lie,” Jordan mumbled. Estelle sighed. She had never once lied to Jordan, but he unfortunately had trouble grasping some basic things. “You look pretty today,” he added.

“You have brown eyes today,” she told him because that seemed like an appropriate response. Jordan said she looked pretty anytime he saw her. A mortal greeting, she figured. “I need your help,” she said and held out the piece of paper Jaime had given her. “I want to go here.”

Jordan took the paper, staring down at the words. “To California?” he asked. Estelle shrugged. “That’s really far. Did you ask your mom to take you?”

“No,” Estelle said. “But I can go myself.”

Jordan looked very impressed by that. Estelle wasn’t sure why. Surely anyone could go anywhere they wanted? The only real challenge Estelle expected was weaseling her way off this beach without Poseidon noticing.

And because Jordan was a helpful boy, he brought out his iPad, to which he plugged in the address that made a very long blue line from where they were and where Estelle’s destination was.

“You can fly, but I don’t think adults let kids on planes without parents saying it’s okay. Would your mom say it’s okay?” he asked, and Estelle shook her head. Unfortunately, asking such a thing would warrant suspicion. “Hm. Well, you can take a train or a bus, maybe,” he mused. “Can you ride a bike?”

“No.”

“You should learn how to ride a bike.”

“Why?”

“It’s fun! And you could ride it to California if you bring lots of snacks.”

“I don’t want to learn to ride a bike,” Estelle dismissed. “Can I drive a car?”

At that, Jordan spluttered. “No! Cars for adults. That’s stupid.”

“Riding a bike is stupid,” Estelle shot back, a little insulted that her reasonable idea had been met with such criticism. “What if I just walk?”

Jordan clicked a few things on his iPad. “Forty-five days,” he read. “Can you walk that far?”

Estelle considered. Forty-five days was over a month. But, to be fair, two months had passed, and nothing had been done about Triton. If she had started her journey right when he left, she’d be essentially on her way back home right now.

“I’ll walk,” she decided. If she didn’t want to walk, then she could get one of those buses or trains Jordan had mentioned. She’d just need to get some mortal money at some point to give them.

Estelle slipped off her backpack. Inside, she had packed some clothes, her training oysters, Percy’s journal, and the knife Triton had given her for her eighth birthday.

Jordan peered inside. “You need snacks,” he decided. “And you can have my iPad as the map. And Band-Aids in case you fall. And a water bottle.” He got up, scrambling to get her the mentioned items. Estelle just sat there, looking around the tiny living room that had framed photos and fluffy furniture. She wondered if most dryland homes were like this. Her mother’s cabin didn’t seem too different.

“DO YOU HAVE EXTRA SOCKS?!” Jordan yelled from another room and, before Estelle could answer, went, “YOU CAN HAVE MY SOCKS!”

Soon enough, Jordan had her ready to go with essentials just like she knew he would. A strange boy, no doubt, but reliable. He was always excited to give her whatever she needed.

“Do you want to come with me?” she asked as he loaded her bag. As she said, he was a little annoying, but maybe he could help her.

And boy did he look delighted to have been asked.

“Really?” Jordan asked, whipping around. “I mean, I can’t, but thank you!” At Estelle’s face, he quickly backtracked. “I think I can probably walk with you for a little bit, but I have school tomorrow.” He paused. “Don’t you go to school?”

“No.”

Jordan waited for her to elaborate. Estelle did not.

Nevertheless, he diligently escorted her out of the house before his father could come back into the room and ask them where they were going. Estelle wondered how she planned to survive in this dryland hellscape for over a month. The conflicting smells and heat of the sun already made her want to gag. Her hands tightened around the straps of her bag, which was too heavy and dug into her shoulders. Part of her immediately wanted to turn around, but she knew she’d have to find peace with this awful place if she had any intention of finding Triton.

“Hey,” Jordan said, skipping over the cracks in the sidewalk. “Why do you have to go by yourself to California, anyway?” He geared up for a big jump. The sound of his sneakers scratching against the cement almost tempted Estelle into beating him with her bag. “Can’t an adult help you?”

“The adults don’t want me to go,” Estelle said, taking a firm breath to brace herself for all the minor annoyances on her way. “My father will be very angry.”

At that, Jordan almost lost his balance, brows coming together in vague concern.

“Then… you probably shouldn’t go, right?” he asked, looking over his shoulder back at where his house was. Estelle almost pointed out that his father probably wouldn’t be happy with Jordan leaving his home either, but she also didn’t care enough to.

“I’m going to go,” Estelle answered. “I made sure he won’t be able to follow me for a little bit.”

“Really? How?”

A great question. One that Estelle had mulled over for quite some time when plotting out her rescue mission. After all, Poseidon was a god who kept a very close eye on her. She typically only had a few hours before he checked in. It wouldn’t be long before he noticed that not only was she not in Atlantis, but had left the ocean altogether. Then, even more concerning, he would realize she was not on any beaches either.

“My father can see all the oceans and beaches at once,” Estelle said. “But I leave the ocean and its beaches; it’s much, much harder for him to find me.” Amphitrite had once explained this to her when she warned Estelle not to wander too much on dryland. “So I told him I wanted to visit my mortal mother’s cabin for a few hours. By the time I should be back, I’ll be far from his domain.”

Though perhaps not far enough. It was a weak plan, she knew. But she also didn’t have anything else to work with. The best should could do was get further into dryland. Eventually, Poseidon would find her, but it would take longer.

She supposed she just had to hope it was over 45 days longer.

“Um, what?” Jordan asked. “Your dad cannot see an entire ocean.”

“You don’t think anyone can do anything,” Estelle said irritably. Jordan wasn’t paying attention to her, though. He was too distracted by his own shadow, waving at it and kicking his feet out to try and make the dark spot move.

Personally, Estelle didn’t like shadows. They weren’t a thing in Atlantis, and she found them vaguely disturbing. They were just… block spots. Like if someone had ripped out all recognizable features from someone and left them in the ground. Creepy.

She looked at her own shadow and grimaced before continuing their walk.

“Why are you going to California?” Jordan asked, now walking backwards.

“I’m getting my brother.”

“You have a brother?”

“I think I have a lot of brothers and sisters.”

“You think?”

“Yes.”

“Why don’t you know?”

“Because I don’t.”

“Oh. You should ask.” Right as he said that, he grabbed Estelle’s arm, stopping her as a car zipped by them, music blaring obnoxiously loud. “You need to look both ways!” he scolded, and Estelle pulled her arm away. “Maybe you shouldn’t be traveling by yourself…” He looked around. “I’ll go with you the whole way. School is dumb, anyway.”

Yeah, Estelle shouldn’t have invited him. Crossing the street, she tried to ignore Jordan trying to explain street safety to her. He practically jogged to keep up with her, the left side of the sidewalk opening up from a brick wall to an open construction site next to them.

“-because people don’t always look for kids in the road,” Jordan continued. Even his shadow seemed to scurry in order to keep up, joining Estelle and-

Estelle stopped walking. Jordan ran into her back as she slowly turned her head to look at the ground. She could feel him follow her gaze, but he didn’t seem quite as concerned with the images on the sidewalk. Instead, he reached over to put two fingers behind her head, giving her bunny ears.

Something cold flooded through her.

“Jordan,” she said, voice slow. “How many shadows do you see?”

“Shadows?” Jordan repeated and looked at the sidewalk again. “What do you mean? I just see ours.”

A prickling sensation went over Estelle’s spine. She also saw theirs. What was bothering her was the third one next to them.

Before she could decide what that meant, the shadow that sat between her and Jordan jerked forward, dark hands reaching for her ankles. Estelle gasped, moving back, but something behind her grabbed her shoulders. Damp breath hit the side of her neck, making her fingers twitch as she tried to process the sudden changes around her.

“Don’t be scared,” a girl’s voice whispered in her ear. “We’re here to have fun!”

Pain shot through Estelle’s arm as sharp nails dragged through the sleeves of her shirt, tearing at the skin underneath. Estelle tried to yank herself free, but the shadow grasped her feet, leaving her to kick desperately as Jordan froze.

“Stella? Are you okay?” he asked, looking around. “What’s-?”

“Get off me... Get off me!” Estelle hissed, tearing herself away from whoever was holding her shoulders. She stumbled off the sidewalk, slipping on some loose gravel. More pain shot up her knee. Heart pounding, she crawled back, looking around, but beside Jordan was just… a girl.

Older than either of them. A teenager? An adult? Her hair was curly, and she looked kind of… wet. Like she had just gotten out of a pool.

“Are you okay?” the girl called, walking over. Estelle tried to even her breathing, watching the ground for the shadow. No. Nothing. Estelle’s eyes moved to the construction site. It was a gutted building with scaffolding and a crane. But no shadows. “Jeez, something really freaked you,” the girl said.

Something had. Did she imagine it? No. No, it had to be a monster. But where was it? The girl held out her hand.

Estelle went to decline the help when she caught sight of black nails. Dripping. Dripping and sharpened to a point. Estelle’s eyes jerked back up, and what she had assumed to be a girl flickered. For a brief moment, there was a pretty teenager with blue eyes in a green dress, but a moment later, the dress dulled into gray shreds. Her skin paled. And... and her eyes...

The girl smiled. Her eyes were pure black.

“JORDAN!” Estelle screamed and scrambled back. “JORDAN, RUN!” she shouted, rushing to the construction site. From beside her, a shadow chased her own, fingers just barely out of reach.

A crack sounded as Estelle slammed open the door, entering the skeleton of a building. No workers were there, but their tools were strewn about. Estelle grabbed a wrench from the ground as she threw her backpack off, using her free hand to try and reach for either the knife Trident got her or her oysters.

“Oh no,” the girl’s voice called. “She doesn’t want to play!”

A foul smell wafted into the room, making Estelle choke. Salty. Decomposing. Like rotting fish or dead crabs.

“I know you’re a monster,” she managed to snarl. “Go away!”

Gods, she wanted to throw up. Now that her brain had caught up with her, she actually did recognize these shadows. They had been in Percy’s book. She remembered a page labeled with a few names written and sketches inside each one. Shade and Scorn. Twins who had once been humans. Jack and Jill? Julia and James? She couldn’t remember now as she twirled around, trying to get her bearings.

“And she just left her friend,” a new voice said. Estelle jerked around, eyes searching for an exit. It was fine. Jordan was mortal. He’d be fine. “Not nice.”

From one of the open windows, a boy jumped through. He looked eerily like the girl with tight curls and water dripping off of him. Estelle sprinted up the stairs only to gasp when a shadow cut her off, swiping at her legs.

“Stop!” Estelle said, throwing the wrench at it. The shadow hissed, and when it jerked at her again, the boy grabbed her hair, throwing her to the ground with a snap. Estelle rolled over, head pounding. Pain radiated up her ribs. The stickiness of blood against her knee made her squirm.

“It's just a game,” the boy said as the shadow came racing over. As it got closer, it seemed to solidify, shifting from a black cutout into something with flesh and features. Soon, the girl was in front of her again, and the boy had morphed back into nothing but blackness in the ground.

All the sparring her family forced her to do flew out the window. Estelle couldn’t think of a single thing she learned over her many years of training as terror froze her muscles. The girl’s teeth sharpened, the black of her eyes dripping down into inky tears down her cheeks as she got closer.

This was it. Estelle would die before even making it through the first hour of her journey.

Just as she braced herself for pain, someone laughed.

Instantly, the shadow and the girl turned, looking around for the sound. The laughter came again. This time, the girl shifted back into the shadow, and the boy reappeared, looking around for the source of the noise.

“Who’s having fun without us?” he asked, a hint of insult in his voice as he stared up. Just as his head tilted up toward the scaffolding, a flash of gold flew through the air. Estelle gasped. The tip of what looked to be a javelin clanged against the ground. The boy froze, looking down to see a hole in the center of his chest.

The glance only lasted a moment before the hole began to flake away with chunks of golden dust, spreading until the rest of him collapsed onto the ground like sparkly sand. The shadow reached for him, but another javelin caught the tip of her hand, sending another rush of gold over the floor.

Estelle sat there, dumbfounded, as someone walked over one of the wooden beams in the scaffolding. She tensed, waiting to see if a javelin would be thrown at her next, but the stranger just looked down at her, unimpressed.

“Do you seriously have an iPad?” he asked. Estelle glanced at her map lying near her backpack on the floor. “That’s the fastest way for monsters to track you.”

Oh. Estelle didn’t know what to say, so she stayed silent as the newcomer dropped from the scaffolding, scaling down several wooden and metal bars and planks until he plopped down next to Estelle and picked up his javelins.

“Thank you,” she managed, taking him in.

He was an adult, which was probably a good thing if she was honest. Bronze-ish hair. Tall. A black bandana covered his lower face, revealing golden eyes that narrowed when he looked at her.

Ignoring her thanks, he shrugged off a tube-like bag from his shoulder and placed his javelins inside.

“You’re a mortal,” she decided. Maybe. Actually, Estelle wasn’t all that sure, but she was just looking for something to say at this point. The silence that she usually welcomed felt a little stuffy with golden dust littering the floor.

“I am. Goodbye,” he said, and turned away.

Estelle scrambled up. “Wait!” she managed. “Um, I’m trying to get somewhere-”

“Then go.”

“Could you help me? You look old enough to buy a plane ticket or-”

“No,” the man said flatly, and Estelle scowled at his back.

Before she could hound him more, Jordan burst into the building, holding a plastic baseball bat. At the man’s presence, he blinked, eying him over to where Estelle stood behind him, knee bleeding from the fight with the shadows and hair mussed every which way.

“STRANGER DANGER!” he screamed and chucked the bat at the man. It bounced harmlessly off his arm and then bounced on the ground, echoing through the cemented ground and empty building. “YOU CAN’T KIDNAP HER-”

“I’m not.”

“MY GOD, YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HER?!”

“That wasn’t the plan,” the man said with a shrug. He turned, circling back to Estelle as Jordan took several deep breaths and tugged the iPad from her grip. “Here,” he said, and tossed it to Jordan. “You should probably take that back home.”

Jordan spluttered, almost dropping the iPad several times before ultimately catching the thing.

“I’m not leaving! You are kidnapping my friend!”

“I’m not.”

“And she needs to see a doctor!” Jordan continued, turning to Estelle. “You can’t just scream and run away at your own shadow. It’s a shadow. It won’t hurt you.” He took another deep breath. “My dad knows a doctor for your brain who can tell you these things-”

“I don’t need a brain doctor,” Estelle grumbled. “You just can’t see.”

“Yes, I can,” Jordan frowned. “I don’t even have glasses.”

“You should get some.”

“I- this was stupid,” Jordan finally snapped, stomping his foot. “You need to go home! You can’t go to California by yourself when you’re scared of shadows and your dad is going to find you anyway.”

Was that so? Estelle crossed her arms over her chest, chin jutted out indignantly.

“I’m going to find my brother,” she said. “And I can, too, go to California.”

“No!”

“Yes!” Estelle shouted back, stomping her foot. “And you can't stop me.”

Jordan’s face went bright red, jaw tightening as he clenched his hands by his sides.

“I’m going to tell my dad you're here!” he snapped and turned to spin out of the building. As he went to leave, he pointed at the stranger. “And if you kidnap her, I AM TELLING THE POLICE!” he screamed and marched out of the building.

Well then. So much for him joining her all the way.

Estelle stuck her tongue at him as he left, silently fuming as she turned to the stranger, patience already thin. Her knee stung, sticky from the blood, and the smell of wood and metal made her head hurt.

And now she had no map. The iPad apparently made monsters appear. She only had a certain amount of food and water, and the clock was ticking until Poseidon eventually located her and dragged her back to Atlantis. On top of that, she apparently was not very good at fighting monsters. The two times she had encountered them in her life, someone else had to save her.

The idea that she could save Triton was absolutely ridiculous.

But it also still seemed better than doing nothing at all.

The stranger turned to leave.

“Wait!” Estelle called, scrambling after him. She catapulted herself in front, holding out her arms to stop any movement. “You have to help me get to California,” she said, digging into her pocket to find the note with the address on it. “It’s here. You need to take me here.”

“I don’t need to take you anywhere,” the stranger groused, snatching the note from her hand. He looked down at it and laughed. “I’m absolutely not taking you to Hyllara, kid.” At Estelle’s face, he sighed. “Get yourself to Camp Half-Blood. It’s not too far, and they help kids get to Hyllara every few months-”

“I don’t have a few months,” Estelle insisted. “I was pushing it, thinking I could do it in one.”

The stranger handed the note back. “Respectfully,” he said. “Not really my problem.”

Why was everyone on dryland so unaccommodating?

“You have to help me,” she said, stepping to the side when he tried to go around her. “Poseidon is going to find me if I don’t get moving soon and-”

“Poseidon?”

“Yes, he’s my father.”

“What?”

“Sort of,” Estelle dismissed. “My mom gave him to me… or me to him. I’m not really sure.”

“Your mom-?” the man pulled down his bandana, revealing a five o’clock shadow and a jawline that kind of looked like Poseidon’s. “Who are you?”

Oh. Right. Triton and Percy seemed to think she was important for some reason. Maybe her name had weight to it?

“Estelle,” she said, and thought of her mother. “Jackson. Estelle Jackson.”

Silence.

The man gaped at her, horror slowly spreading over his face in tiny increments.

When he did speak, it was with such vindication that Estelle almost thought they had somehow already met.

“Oh, hell no,” he said, and backed away. “No, no, no. Abso-fucking-lutely not.” He looked over his shoulder and made a beeline to the window. “Not today. Not ever, but certainly not today.” He threw a leg over the window, and Estelle scooped up her bag to chase after him.

“What do you mean?!” she shouted and clumsily tried to follow him through the window. Behind the building was a gathering of trees - forest, woods, or whatever it was - that the stranger was walking through at an entirely inappropriate pace. “Slow down!” she yelled at him and gave a small oof when she feel from the window to the ground. “HEY!” she screamed.

The stranger whipped around.

“Do you know who I am?” he demanded, pointing a finger at her. Before she could respond, he turned his finger to himself. “Dom.”

Estelle waited. Dom apparently had nothing more to add to that.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” she finally said, and Dom threw his hands up.

“No, I- like, you know, the person all the gods and all the demigods and all the monsters unanimously hate?” he asked. Estelle looked at him. She kind of thought the most hated person she had heard of in life was Percy. But if gods, demigods, and monsters hated this guy, then Dom surely took the cake. “Zeus,” he finally said. “I’m Zeus.”

“I… thought you were Dom?”

Zeus (or Dom?) put a hand over his mouth, looking like he might burst into tears. Instead, he reached for a bottle strapped to his belt and popped the lid off, taking a long gulp of something. After a few seconds, he stopped, wiping something white off his lips.

“I used to be a god,” he said. “I ruled Olympus. Your brother, Perseus Jackson, overthrew me, replaced me with Athena, and now I’m mortal.” He held out his hands. “Caught up?”

Estelle was not. But she also didn’t particularly care about who Dom was or wasn’t. She cared about the Summoner. She cared about Triton. She cared about getting to California.

Looking Dom up and down, Estelle furrowed her brows together.

“If nobody likes you, how are you still alive?” she asked suspiciously. “Wouldn’t the gods or my brother come after you to finish the job?”

Dom snorted. “Trust me,” he said darkly. “They have been trying.” He tucked the bottle back into his belt. “But, people forget, I spent the first many years of my life hiding from Titans. Hiding from gods and errant demigods isn’t too different,” he said.

Perfect.

“So you can keep Poseidon from finding me?” she asked. Dom blinked. “That’s exactly what I need. I go to this Hyllara place in California with you. You hide me from the gods and keep monsters away while we go, and I’ll find someone there to rescue Triton from the Summoner.”

Dom blinked again. “No?” he said. “Forget it. I would be in such deep shit if anyone caught me traveling with you, of all people. Not to mention, the Summoner is a hoax, and I’m not setting foot in Hyllara.” He pointed in the direction of the beach. “Goodbye.”

Shouldering his bag, he turned to leave again, but, quite frankly, that didn’t really work for Estelle. With Jordan whining about her trip to his father, her time until discovery was probably getting even shorter.

She needed a plan. Fast.

“If you leave me, I’ll tell everyone you’re the one who took me from Atlantis!” she called. Dom’s footsteps faltered. “I’ll say you wanted to kill me, and then we’ll see how good at hiding you really are when Percy Jackson finds out.”

It was kind of a long shot, but if Percy really was as scary as people made him out to be… then yeah. It could work.

Sure enough, Dom turned to look at her, a hint of concern touching his face. Estelle narrowed her eyes in return.

“....no,” he finally said. “You wouldn’t do that.”

And with that, he turned around again.

Which was hilarious, because they clearly didn’t know each other very well. Estelle followed the rules. She didn’t like to lie. In fact, until this very moment, she didn’t understand why people did lie. But as she looked at Dom’s retreating back, she had an unwavering confidence in what she needed to do.

Estelle took a deep breath. Once. Twice. And then she let out a blood-curdling scream.

“HELP!” she yelled. Dom whipped around. “SOMEBODY HELP! ZEUS IS TRYING TO KIDNAP ME!”

“What? No!” he said, eyes growing panicked as he looked up at the sky. “I’m not even Zeus anymore. I’m Dom, and I have nothing to do with this situation-”

“HE SAID HE WANTS TO KILL ME BECAUSE MY BROTHER IS THE REASON HE’S MORTAL!”

“I did not say that!” Dom said, raising his hands as if that might squash the words. “Shh! Stop it!”

Estelle threw herself on the ground, rolling in the dirt. “HELLO, GODS! IT IS ME, ESTELLE! I HEAR I AM VERY IMPORTANT! AND I AM BEING MURDERED BY THIS MAN!”

Dom swore loudly as he looked around. “For the love of- fuck. Fine. I’ll help you!” he shouted. Estelle stopped her screeching to crack open an eye. “Just stop it, okay? I’ll help you.”

Good. Estelle sat up, dusting herself off.

“That’s very nice of you,” she told him. Dom reached up and curled his fingers into his hair. Estelle righted her bag, skipping up next to him with a polite smile. “So,” she said. “Where do we start?”