Archive of Our Own

SEPTEMBER 20, 2021.

“So, when will you teach me your cool water magic?” 

Mariana says this so casually, that Percy takes a few seconds to realise what she’s really asking for. She is sitting on a closed chest and swinging her feet. A true picture of innocence, if not for the chest being full of weapons while they’re in the Trenche’s basement gym. 

“Woah woah woah, nope.” He holds his hand up. “I can’t teach you that.”

The pressure of questions waiting to burst from her mouth is evident enough for Percy to collapse onto a nearby bench to ready himself for the onslaught. 

“But why?” she all but pouts. “Benji said you called it ‘magic’, so surely I can learn it too? ‘Cause you’re like those JL members, like uhhh, Zatanna and Doctor Fate! They had to learn from somewhere or someone, right? We can discover if I’m some sort of special human, or something!”

Percy raises his eyebrow under the cloth soaking up his sweat. He hadn’t trained in a hot minute, and dealing with a very sneaky and hyperactive child is tough work. Surprisingly enough, her already being pretty well-versed in hand-to-hand combat of all kinds as a twelve-year-old doesn’t make matters much easier. It just means he’s very quickly running out of mortal friendly things to teach her. From the looks of it, she could beat many of the campers he taught without even breaking a sweat. 

“Trust me, Mariana, pray that you don’t have powers like me.” He himself sends a prayer for her to Hestia at that moment, because the gods know The Fates would never listen. Especially to Percy, their favourite puppet, a beloved soldier, of all people. But his words do little to deter the determined sparkle in Mariana's soft blue eyes. 

"But whyyy," she repeats, with all the high-pitched tone of a curious toddler asking the same question for the hundredth time. 

Percy takes a deep inhale. He shifts in his seat, planting his feet flat on the ground and clasping his hands together tightly. His mouth morphs into a sort-of grimace while he flounders for an explanation like a fish. Explaining godly things to newly found demigods or legacies is easy, since it's all cut and dry. But explaining it to a mortal? He's reminded of the time he blurted out everything he knew of the godly world to one very unlucky Rachel Elizabeth Dare, who then went on to become the Oracle of Delphi, cursed to spout deathly poems of prophecy for the rest of her life. He'll be damned if he condemns Mariana to the same unfortunate fate. 

"Don't worry about it." He waves her questions away, knowing full well that it won't stop her.

"But where'd you get it from?" she presses on. Each interrogative stare feels like poking a fresh bruise. 

“It comes from your parents,” he says, hoping the answer is vaguely informative enough for her to let it go. But he's known this girl for almost a month now, and has seen the extent of her personal research, never stopping until she's uncovered secrets from the cellular level. He knows that to her, ambiguous or uncertain is nothing but a challenge to overcome. 

But instead of asking for more, she keeps a contemplative silence. As she stares up at nothing, Percy can see her blue eyes burn and brighten. Oh no, he thinks. That really doesn't look good.

In a flash of quick thinking, he bounds up to his feet and claps his hands. "Y'know what, I'm getting the munchies. Let's go get some ice cream, yeah?"

Mariana, ever the little genius, knows this is a mere distraction, shown through the venomous stink-eye she gives him. But she's also never been one to say no to free anything, so she lets herself be hurried back up the stairs to her house's kitchen. He really shouldn't have been as surprised as he was when Coraline revealed the trap door that led down to an underground gym-slash-bunker. Seeing as they live in Gotham, a little preparation can't hurt. (And if that preparation includes a few more varied weapons than he'd anticipated, he isn't one to judge. Native Gothamites always end up being a little weird, after all. He should know.)

Still in their workout clothes, they leave the house by skateboard in search of the nearest ice cream store. They end up next to Robinson Park, ducking into the small shop. It's a bit too close to Poison Ivy's haunt, but Percy supposes they will just have to leave quickly. While they browse the glass-covered options, Percy keeps an eye out for odd movements in the weeds or trees branching over the park's black gates. Even a decade of living away from the city can't suppress his built-in Gotham-specific survival habits. Mariana, as always, looks undisturbed. She rattles off her order to the tired teen behind the counter, bouncing on her toes, which Percy recognises to be her usual ADHD stim. The streets might as well provide her the comfort of her own home. 

Luckily for Percy's agitation, they receive their ice creams within five minutes. Mariana makes a face at Percy's cookies & cream and berry blast sorbet combo as they walk out. He responds accordingly by stealing a spoonful from her two scoops of strawberry cheesecake. Continuing with their game of Capture the Ice Cream, they pass by the park, with Percy evenly rolling along on his skateboard next to Mariana as she skips ahead. 

"Oh, that's your own fault!" he argues childishly as Mariana pretends to gag after eating both of his flavours in the same bite. "You're the who decided to steal my ice—"

Somewhere in the far reaches of his hearing, a twig snaps. Percy falters and looks back at the trees. The fencing around this side of the park is laughably low. Anyone, plant-powered villain or not, could jump over to land right behind them. The trees visibly rustle. In the back of his mind, Percy notes the lack of wind. 

"Mariana, get behind me," he instructs. But Mariana doesn't follow, instead peering into the undergrowth. Her posture is relaxed, but she has her switchblade in hand along with a gun — Where did she get that?! Percy thinks in alarm. 

"Mariana..." he warns again. She's right in front of him, so there's no difficulty in keeping both her and the potential threat within his attention. But it also inadvertently makes her his human shield, and he'll be damned to have another kid die on his watch. 

She's reaching for her pockets, perhaps for another weapon hidden inside. "It's fine," she promises. "This is Ivy's turf, she won't hurt us."

"And how're you so sure, hm?" he raises an eyebrow. "Pretty sure "not hurting people" isn't in a Rogue's vocabulary."

"Have you committed any atrocities against nature as of late?" she snaps back, a defensive bite sharpening her tone. "Because I sure haven't. As long as you aren't secretly moonlighting as a heartless, capitalistic bastard, then I think you'll be all good. Besides, aren't you literally in a book club with her, the fuck?"

Percy's lips part. Before he can ask about her sudden foul mood, the trees move again. Riptide is already in his hand. Reaching for it is as quick and subconscious as blinking. A boxy silhouette slinks out from the shadows. The further her steps towards the fence and into the light, the more he can see of the freakishly tall man. Wrapped in a brown trench coat and a large fedora hat, he reeks of suspicious activity. 

"Perseus Jackson," he sneers. Percy instinctively rolls his eyes. Great, another monster. 

But... that doesn't sound right. He's smackdab in the heart of Gotham, a city forbidden from spawning monsters within its borders. There should be no monsters here, apart from the ones made from human downfall. Unless...

Muttering in some very colourful language, he flicks off the cap of his pen-sword, and Riptide springs into his hands. He would try to scan around for the person who apparently summoned the monster, but splitting his attention between the monster, Mariana, and someone who may or may not exist is difficult. Not for the last time, he curses his ADHD. 

And because The Fates hate him (no surprise there), Mariana gapes at the weapon in his hand and says, "Where the hell did you get a sword?!" 

"Where did you get a gun?" he deflects.

"A gun is much easier to hide than a whole sword!" 

The monster in man's clothing disregards their quarrel and blinks at him slowly like a cat. But cats usually do that to signify trust, and this guy doesn't look like he'd catch Percy in a trust fall. Something about his eyes, one blue and one brown, itches a memory in the corner of Percy's brain. 

"Alright, let's get this over with." Percy rolls back his shoulder. "Most monsters high-tail it outta here if they realise it's me. What makes you so special?" Subtext: who let you in here, and why?

The monster-man scoffs. "I didn't come here for you, Perseus Jackson. I wasn't aware you were here at all. I was following a much sweeter, stronger scent." A sleazy smile crosses his face as he stares at Mariana. Noticing the major creeper vibes he gives off, she points her gun straight at him. "But I suppose getting my revenge is just as sweet. You bestest me once, and I will make sure you never do it again, Perseus Jackson."

Percy's mind draws a blank. "Uh, sorry not sorry, but who are you?" 

Apparently the wrong thing to say because the man sputters and his face grows puffy and scarlet. 

Retreating back next to him, Mariana whispers, "Dude, your name is Perseus? That's sick. Also, heads-up, the guy has a scorpion tail."

Indeed, with a tilt of his head, Percy can see a red, spiky tail strategically hidden behind his rigid frame.

"Oh, you're the manticore that kidnapped my best friend! That really pissed me off, y'know." He grins. "If you wanna get killed again, be my guest."

Mariana stops nervously tugging her crab bracelet for a second. "Wait, manticore? Like the Mythomagic card with three thousand attack points?"

"And plus-five for saving throws?" Percy adds before a horrific wave of deja vu hits him.

The manticore sheds his hat, revealing a full lion mane, and dropping down into all fours. (A mortal walking from a couple metres at his right stops to survey the scene, then turns back around with a scowl. It's unclear if that's a cause of The Mist or Gothamite survival instincts.) 

"Guess you got your wish, Mariana," Percy mutters. "You've got powers, like me. I'm sorry."

And he means it. He means it so much, because here is a little girl with the potential to live and succeed in the mortal world, but she's stuck facing potential death instead. 

The manticore pounces. 

Simultaneously, Percy shoves Mariana behind him and gives her his ice cream cone. He slashes at the monster, advancing further into his space, but the manticore ducks and evades each time. Percy grits his teeth. Last time he fought Dr. Thorn, it took the goddess Artemis and her Hunters getting involved to defeat him. But he was also fourteen when that happened, so maybe he should cut his younger self some slack. 

As much as he isn't getting any proper hits in, neither is the manticore. The poisonous spikes whizz past him and embed themselves behind him. He shifts his angle, leaving Mariana vulnerable behind him, but at least now he's landing deep slashes into the manticore's lion body. Golden ichor gurgles from the cuts. Dr. Thorn growls in pain and lunges, but the attack is slow. Percy smirks. 

"Ack!" A strangled scream sounds behind him.

His head whips around to see Mariana inspecting a bleeding slash on her forearm, her ice cream cup dropped at her feet. A spike protrudes from the garbage bin next to her. "Mariana!"

Percy hears the sneak attack, but slashing his shoulders doesn’t stop the monster from managing a swipe to his abdomen. Pain in his side knocks Percy to his knees. Clutching the wound, Percy gets up to one knee and stabs straight into his front paw. The monster roars. 

"Hey, ugly!" 

Dr. Thorn looks up, just to meet an ice cream cone to the eye. A startled laugh escapes Percy. White and magenta cream drip into his yellow fur. It comically sticks to his human face for a few seconds before falling to the ground. Mariana aims her handgun like a professional and shoots. 

The shots would have been perfect, if not for the non-godly metal fazing right through his forehead. Mariana makes a face of pure disgust as the bullets hit a brick wall instead. Pocketing the gun, she jostles her bracelet while reaching for her knife. 

Percy shakes his head. "Won't work—"

His words die as they both stare at the gladius in her hand. The double-edge design is split by two metals, clearly Celestial Bronze and Imperial Gold. The guard and pommel are silver, the same silver as the bracelet that was once circling her wrist. 

"However, that will work very well," he grins through a wince. He waves his free hand at the monster. "Hey, Dr. Thorn, right? You’re acting more like a thorn in my ass!"

Effectively distracted, Dr. Thorn leaps at him. But before he can reach him, a piercing shriek rips from his vocal cords. He staggers to the side. Standing behind him, Mariana catches the severed scorpion tail. She stabs it with her sword and lifts it up like a really dangerous shish kebab. She focuses on the wailing manticore with a steely glint in her eye — the same look she gets when she's figuring out how much chemical she needs for her experiment to blow up. Percy smirks and kicks Dr. Thorn in her direction. 

"It's 'thorn in my side' actually," she corrects matter-of-factly while stuffing the scorpion stinger into his mouth. Poison fills his face, but before he can choke on his own medicine, Percy stabs him through the back of his lion head. The monster bursts into golden dust and scatters on the pavement. 

"Ugh, ew." She shakes the monster remains out of her blue hair. 

"So," Percy manages to hiss out through the pain.

"So," she parrots back, a cheek-splitting smile on her face. "What the fuck was that?!"

"That," he gestures at the monster dust, "was a monster. It means you're probably a demigod, and we definitely have a problem."

Getting to the Financial District shouldn't take this long, but it's remarkably difficult to skateboard through traffic and ignore an open wound and princess-carry a twelve-year-old who doesn't know how to deactivate her new weapon. To her credit, Mariana doesn't ask as many questions as he thought she would. She doesn't ask any at all, actually. Maybe she recognises something urgent in how he keeps scanning their surroundings and decides to dial down the curiosity for once. Percy isn't looking a Trojan horse in the mouth. 

When the dingy windows of a familiar office building come to view, he swerves into the adjacent street. They hurtle down the car park ramp and Mariana's gladius nearly decapitates him as they go over a speed bump. Finally reaching the almost empty lowest level, he lowers Mariana and kicks up his skateboard. He pushes through a thick door claiming 'STAFF ONLY'.

"That sign can't stop me because I can't read," Mariana mumbles. Percy snorts despite the accuracy. 

The door opens into a gritty hallway that seems out of place in a state-of-the-art building. He counts seven bricks on his right side — seven letters in 'demigod' — and asks for Mariana's sword. She hesitantly gives it to him and he waves it across the wall like a metal detector. Sure enough, a single brick at his hip level reacts to the godly metal and glows. There's already enough blood on his fingers so he spreads a thumb over the brick. The brick continues glowing. Mariana makes a surprised noise as the blood disappears off of its surface. A control panel juts out of the wall. Percy opens a hatch underneath it and takes out a demigod emergency kit. He hands a square of ambrosia to Mariana.

"Dude, I've had edibles before, but I don't think this is the time?" 

"It's not — what do you mean you've had edibles before? You’re twelve." 

"Don't worry, it's been taken care of," she waves him off. Knowing Coraline Trenche, he doesn’t want to know what ‘taken care of’ means. "What is it then?" 

"Ambrosia." He peels off his bloody tank top and wears a fresh Camp Half-blood shirt. "It'll heal you."

He pauses. "Hold on." He takes her sword and pricks her hand. A bead of blood collects at the surface. 

“Hey!” She licks off the blood. “What was that for?!”

“Just double-checking that you won't die if you eat the ambrosia,” he says. “Don’t want you combusting on me if you end up being a real feisty mortal instead of a demigod.”

She squints. “An ambrosia card in Mythomagic gives you fifty health points. Are you telling me… Mythomagic is real or something?”

He hums. “Or something.”

The tank top gets shoved into his basketball shorts. He nudges her hand to eat. While he pulls up the holographic globe on the control panel, Mariana watches as her wounds disappear. She's still oddly quiet for a newly discovered demigod, so Percy feels the need to make conversation.

“What does it taste like?” he asks. 

“Oh, sorry. Here, have some.” She glances down at the blood seeping through his shirt. “Actually, I think you need some.”

Percy can't stop her from pressing the half-eaten square into his hands. He pops it into his mouth, salty flavours of the palace chef’s seaweed stew bursting to life. (The day ambrosia stopped tasting like his mother's blue cookies, Percy refused to eat for an entire week before Triton had to forcibly extract him from his room. No recipe, not even the cookies he makes himself, can hold a candle to Sally's.) He feels his skin stitching itself back up, but not fully. However, it's just enough pain relief for Percy to pretend like he has sore muscles instead of a gash in his side. He shrugs on his NRU varsity jacket to hide the stains. 

He glances at Mariana fiddling with her sword. There's a silver crab stuck to the guard, enlarged from her bracelet. 

"Is that new?" He nods to the sword. 

"I got the bracelet ages ago from one of my mom's friends... But this is the first time it's done this."

"One of your mom's friends, huh...?" He says distractedly, spinning the holographic globe between two destinations. Red dots pepper the body of North America, marking every portal location.

Mariana makes a noise of confusion. “What's this…” She traces a shallow, circular indent in the crab's body, then presses it.

She squeaks as the sword elongates in her hands. The tip splits into three, still separated through the middle from bronze to gold. The crab is now situated at the trident's neck. She presses it again and it becomes a spear, then a dagger, then a recurve bow, then back to a bracelet. 

With each transformation, her eyes sparkle brighter and brighter. 

Percy forces his brow to smooth out. The life all demigods share tends to deflate enthusiasm and happiness like a punctured balloon, once threats on their life become commonplace. He would rather leave her in the dark, pretend like this never happened and help her lead a normal life. 

But... He brushes golden dust off his shorts. "A sweeter and stronger scent," the manticore had said. Gotham definitely isn't safe for her, now that she knows what she is. 

And there is one person who he knows will have an answer to why. He presses the little red dot on San Francisco. 

A blazing trail of white shoots off from the panel and traces the shape of a door onto the wall. Mariana jerks back as what was previously solid brick glimmers and folds in on itself to reveal the inside of a telephone booth. 

“Portals for demigod use,” he answers before she can ask. “C’mon, I already added a plus one to the trip.”

Going through the portals feels just like stepping through a door. He pulls her in and they tumble out of the booth. The portal closes without a trace behind them. 

“Where are we…?” she breathes out, squinting at the clear blue sky in awe. “This definitely isn't Gotham.”

“Welcome to San Fran.”

“San Francisco?!” she gapes as they enter a street. “This is — holy fuck, this is crazy!”

“What, never been to the West Coast?” 

“I've never been outside of Gotham!” 

Percy falters. “At all?”

“Mamá doesn't let me.” She checks her phone hastily like she expects Coraline to start calling like a devil summoned. Percy folders that information for later. 

“Speaking of your mom,” (Mariana laughs at the accidental joke, like the immature teenager she is. At least she has an excuse for laughing, unlike Percy who is indeed immature, but very much not a teenager.) “What time does she come back?”

“Eight-thirty.”

Okay, great, he thinks. Plenty of time to bring her to both Camps, then sit down to talk to Coraline about this.

It takes the better part of ten minutes to get to Caldecott Tunnel, mostly due to a flock of Stymphalian birds dive-bombing for Mariana. She giggles as she skewers two birds with her spear. Percy slashes through four necks in one fell swoop. The last bird explodes into dust as an arrow pierces its skull. They turn to find two teens in Roman armour, gawking at him.

He nods at the archer. “Thanks for the assist.” The girl blushes brightly under her too-big helmet.

“You’re Percy Jackson!” the boy next to her exclaims. He turns and bolts into the tunnel, gesturing for them to follow. 

Mariana’s feet stagger as they approach the other side of the tunnel and back into the sunlight. Her eyes blow as wide as shields and her mouth follows suit. At their feet lies a vast, bowl-shaped valley several miles across. The valley floor is uneven, dotted with smaller hills, golden plains, and patches of forest. A small, clear river meanders from a lake at the center, winding around the edges in the shape of a G. Percy stops for a moment to let her take it all in — and to breathe in the fresh air of home, of safety.

“Welcome to Camp Jupiter,” he tells her. He assumes she hears him, but he wouldn’t blame her if she’s too entranced by the view to pay attention. Between the growing city of white marble buildings with red-tiled roofs and the impressive temples of Temple Hill, beautiful is the only word worthy of describing New Rome. 

The boy runs across a stone bridge over the Little Tiber, hollering, “Percy Jackson is here!”

Up on the watchtowers, horns blow. Not the deep and long sounds that signal danger, but something more like celebratory trumpet toots. The sentries cheer as they approach the river. Percy sheepishly waves back. 

Mariana raises her eyebrows at him, but doesn’t say anything in favour of dropping to her knees at the river bank. She cups her hands with water.

“It’s so clear!” she laughs, delighted. Percy’s heart clenches. How shit is his city for a little girl to look at clean water like it’s a miracle? Mentally, he circles and strongly underlines his next project: cleaning Gotham Bay. And maybe punching the assholes who put toxins into the water supply. 

“Percy!” 

He’s running across the bridge, tugging Mariana along with him, before he even gets to recognise their faces. But he’ll be damned if he ever forgets the voices of his closest friends. 

Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang barely stumble back as Percy barrels into them for a bone-crushing hug. They only return the favour just as tightly. Hazel’s scabbard pokes into his wounded side. But Percy swallows back a grimace in order to press a brotherly kiss to her forehead. Frank bends down automatically to receive his forehead kiss too. 

“Neeks!” Percy wraps the pale boy next to them in another hug, nearly lifting him off the ground. 

“Told you not to call me that,” Nico di Angelo grumbles, but pats him on the back anyway. 

“What are you here for?” asks Hazel. He gets sidetracked a bit by the new strands of purple and gold woven into her cinnamon brown box braids. His friends’ giggles reel him back in. 

He gestures to Mariana, who loiters behind him, still gaping at her surroundings. “Special demigod delivery. And I need to talk to Annabeth.” 

The girl offers a handshake to all three of them, diligently introducing herself as her mother taught her. 

Frank raises his eyebrow. “Is she Roman? Did you explain everything to her?”

Percy shrugs. “We were a little preoccupied.”

Hazel shakes her head good-naturedly and tugs him into the gates of Camp Jupiter. 

Mariana hovers between Percy and Nico, glancing at the eighteen-year-old with interest. Probably because he looks the coolest, with his pitch black Stygian iron sword and the aviator jacket he finally grew into and his small ponytail at the base of his neck. In Percy’s opinion, Hazel and Frank are super cool too, but to Mariana they obviously look like they run this whole shebang. If there’s something Percy and Mariana have in common, it’s they’re general dislike of authority figures. And she’s with Percy almost daily for the past month. She’s seen him snort chocolate milk from his nose by laughing too hard — he’s definitely lost some cool points. 

Frank nudges his shoulder. The man raises an eyebrow, looking down at where Percy hides the wound. His nose twitches as he says, “Smells fresh.”

Percy scowls. Demigods usually have one or two enhanced senses. Percy himself has heightened hearing, while Piper and Annabeth have enhanced sight. Hazel and Nico, children of Pluto and Hades respectively, have amplified touch senses from their control over the underground. Frank is the only one they know who has enhanced sight, smell, and hearing. Annabeth thinks it’s because of his ability to shapeshift into animals translating to his human senses. Everyone else thinks it’s compensation for being lactose intolerant.

“Don’t worry about it,” he whispers back. “Ate some ambrosia, we’re all good.” 

The man merely tsks and runs a hand through his spiky black hair. 

Percy motions for the three of them to stay silent as Mariana soaks everything in. She stares at anything and everything. She stares at Hazel and Frank’s purple praetor cloaks floating in the light wind; at their medals of valour decorating their chest plates; at the sky which holds no cloud in sight; at the hoards of Roman demigods and legacies milling around. Then she turns to look at Percy himself, scrutinising his face.

“So,” she starts, tugging at her crab claw necklace this time. Faintly, he wonders if that’s a hidden weapon as well. “Someone wanna tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Have you had any wolves visit you?” Hazel asks. Right before they enter the principia, Frank stops a short boy, hands him a piece of paper that looks like a teacher’s note, and sends him off in the direction of New Rome. 

“Uh, no? No wolves at all. Is that bad?”

“No, it’s not bad, don’t worry.”

“What do wolves have to do with this?” she frowns. “You’re being a little confusing…”

She stops in the doorway to gawk at the intricate mosaic of Romulus, Remus, and the wolf goddess Lupa on the ceiling. “Woah.”

She walks in carefully, trying not to scuff her sneakers on the polished marble floor. Frank and Hazel sit at the wooden table in their twin praetor chairs, while Nico leans against it. They’re obviously going to do their whole spiel to introduce the world of demigods, using flowery words to cushion the blow that the kid’s life is going to change. Percy cuts in before Nico opens his mouth. 

“The gods are real,” he deadpans. Frank facepalms. Nico pinches the bridge of his nose. But Percy knows Mariana’s appreciation for cutting to the chase, that she would rather be treated like an adult who can handle the facts. 

Mariana nods along like this makes perfect sense. She looks up at the painted ceiling, then the purple flags adorning the walls with the letters SPQR in gold. “Like the Roman gods? Like Jupiter, Neptune, Pluto?” 

“Yeah, that’s right. And their Greek counterparts too.”

“Like, uh, Zeus and Hera?” It takes her a little longer to remember those names. Percy wonders if mortal education stopped teaching Classics while he was learning to differentiate squid species.

“Okay, so you’re telling me the gods exist… And you called us demigods, like Hercules? So we’re half mortal and half Greco-Roman god?” Impressed, the older demigods trade glances. 

“She’s much quicker on the uptake than you were, Seaweed Brain.”

Percy’s head shoots up. Three faces peek into the room, all of them sporting wide smiles at his presence. 

“Hey, guys—”

“Percy!”

Said demigod releases a small grunt as a taller body collides into him. His upper arms are physically restrained by the embrace so all he can do is feebly squeeze the man’s sides.

“Jason! Dude, it’s good to see you too,” he laughs. Jason Grace rears his head back to give him his golden retriever grin. 

“Had to see what all the commotion was about,” says Piper McLean next to him. She wraps her arms around his midsection while Jason refuses to let go of his shoulders. He presses a chaste kiss into her choppy brown hair and another into Jason’s temple. 

Jason rubs his nose like he’s sick then glares down at Percy. Percy mentally sighs and whispers, “It’s fine, don’t worry,” which he knows he can hear with his enhanced hearing along with his bloodhound nose, like the wolves he was raised by. 

They finally let him go and Percy immediately bounds over to his best friend. Percy is one of the few people with spontaneous Annabeth Chase hugging privileges, effective through the hand-made coupon she gave him when they were fourteen. She isn’t the fondest of physical touch, so it’s an honor he wields as frequently as possible. Maybe he’s just a hugger. 

Once Annabeth deems they’ve been hugging way too long, she playfully pushes his face away with a laugh. She fixes her attention on the new demigod instead.

"Who's this?" She glances down at Mariana's outstretched hand, then shakes it firmly with a tiny chuckle.

“This is Mariana. She’s a demigod. We’re tryna figure out who the fath— uh, godly parent is.” He’s careful not to say father in particular, because they all know how weird demigod parentage and conception can get. His mood grows sombre as he remembers what led to this discovery in the first place. Annabeth and Piper cock their heads, noticing a change in his microexpressions. “There’s something wrong with Gotham.”

Frank snorts. “What isn’t wrong with Gotham?”

Mariana frowns up at the much taller, much more muscular man as if she can take him on. 

“I don’t know, I like the vibes of Gotham,” Nico shrugs, eliciting a smile from the proud Gothamite. “Could do with less clowns and craziness overall, but vibes nonetheless.” 

“No, I mean—” Percy shakes his head, not denying that Gotham is generally fucked up. “There was a monster, a manticore, right in Central Gotham. I think someone summoned it, but I’m not sure.” 

The rest of the older demigods pass looks between each other. 

“Percy…” Piper starts. “You know this is what Reyna’s quest in Gotham is about, right? The monsters popping up there?” 

His head jerks back. “Reyna’s on a quest in Gotham?”

“What— Bro, did you even read your messages?” Jason sputters. Percy opens up his messaging app, scrolling through the billions of texts that he may or may not have read. He finally finds the message from Piper on the ‘cosmic mistakes’ group chat, consisting of The Seven and friends. Oh, it was sent a couple months ago. Piper peeks over.

“Do you just mark the chats as read without even scrolling through?” she squawks. “That’s just cruel, Perce!”

“Yeah, man. That’s a dick move,” Mariana chimes in. Percy makes a face at her. 

“Okay okay, moral of the story: actually read your messages,” Hazel placates. She points at Mariana. “Now, back to the issue at hand?”

Everyone’s attention turns to her at once. Mariana blinks up at them and opens her mouth. 

“So to recap, the Greco-Roman gods exist, we are their demigod children. I’m going to assume that there are lots of monsters everywhere trying to kill us and that’s why we’re here at this safe haven place? And given your conversation, Gotham is usually free from these monsters until recently, so that’s why monsters haven’t been attacking me? ‘Cause there have been a shit ton of monsters out for my blood in the past thirty-ish minutes, and I’m sure I haven’t pissed any gods off that badly in that span of time…” she trails off. “Am I right?” 

The small crowd settles into an astonished silence. Annabeth nods her head, lips curving up slightly. 

“Good job, kid!” Piper beams, giving her a high-five. 

“Don’t call her a kid,” says Percy. He’s expecting Mariana to say something similar, but she’s too busy staring at Piper while blushing furiously and hiding the pink strands behind her blue hair. 

“So I’m thinking, Athena?” Nico pipes up. 

“That’s what I was thinking too,” Percy says. “She’s a year ahead in her school studies as well, and she’s got detective skills for days. She figured out I was a Wayne ward pretty quickly,” he clarifies at their confused looks. “And that I’m—”

He’s cut off by Annabeth clicking her tongue. “Nah, all Athena kids have grey eyes. She’s got blue.”

Something pings in Percy’s head. “Right, her eyes! The colour is a lot like Jason and Thalia’s. I wouldn’t put it past Zeus to break the oath for the fourth time.”

Mariana sneers. “You think my godly parent is Jupiter?” She glares at him with her dark greyish blue eyes — wait, what? 

“You all saw her eyes just change colour, right?” Piper points out. 

The girl shrugs. “Yeah, they do that. It changes according to my emotions. Guess I know why now.” She scrunches her nose at Percy. “Did you not notice?”

“No, because I’m usually making sure that you’re not picking fights with strangers and/or blowing up your room.”

“I never blew up my room—”

“Yes you did! There’s still charring on your table—”

“Silence!” The sound of Hazel slamming her hand down on the table echoes through the room. She smiles sweetly and Percy swears the temperature drops. She holds her hand out to her boyfriend. Frank places some parchment and a pen in her palm. Maybe couples become telepathic after dating for over four years, Percy wonders idly. “Let’s write down every clue we have for her parentage, then compare notes. Alright?”

They all nod stiffly, apart from Nico who mock salutes, “Ay ay, Praetor Levesque.”

They collectively turn back to Percy. Even Mariana, though this investigation is about her. Percy then turns to Annabeth. She sighs.

“Alright, first off: is she Roman or Greek? If she’s got dyslexia, we can figure out if she can read Ancient Greek or Latin.”

“I don’t have dyslexia. But I am fluent in Latin! My mom taught me so I’d have an edge at Gotham Academy. Since it’s a prep school, it’s compulsory to learn.”

“Do you have ADHD?” Annabeth asks in Greek. Mariana nods then squints.

“That wasn’t English.” 

“Nope!” Hazel scribbles down graecus on her paper. Annabeth grabs a chair from out of nowhere and sits with her legs crossed. “Are there any other clues?” she asks Percy. He tilts his head.

“Hermes? She’s cunning and she’s got pretty sticky fingers.”

Mariana looks at her hands. “My fingers aren’t sticky — Oh you meant the phrase.” 

Percy suddenly remembers her old mentor, Catwoman. There’s a high chance that she got her propensity for thievery from her instead of a godly parent. He racks his brain for another hint. “What about your mother’s friend, Mariana? The one that gave you the sword — oh shit, the sword! Show them the sword.” 

Mariana grabs her bracelet and presses the tiny button. In a blink, the dual-metal gladius is in her hand. 

Jason whistles. “I’ve seen Leo make bronze-gold hybrid weapons like that. You sure your mother’s friend wasn’t a really short Latino dude?” 

She shakes her head. “She was tall and she had black hair, but that’s all I remember. She visited a lot when I was younger, like really young. But there’s never been a button there before the manticore.” 

Percy tells her to show them the other forms. She does, and with each transformation, his friends’ eyebrows travel higher and higher. Frank catches Percy’s eye. Does your sword do— he begins to mouth.

No, shut up, Percy mouths back. 

Nico hums thoughtfully, twisting his skull ring. “That woman is probably Mariana’s godly parent then, if she gave her a weapon with both Greek and Roman metals. It looks commissioned, yeah, like something Leo would make.”

The praetor narrows his eyes at the weapon back in sword form. “But it’s a gladius. Why would a Greek goddess give her child a Roman weapon?” 

“What are your interests, Mariana?” asks Piper. Mariana’s cheeks are still apple red as the older girl crouches in front of her. Great, he mentally sighs, I’m gonna have to teach the middle schooler that getting crushes on college age students isn’t the best idea. He knows that fact very well. 

“Uh, I like chemistry and biology and uh, music. I can play, like, four musical instruments, and I’m in my school’s swim, archery, and track teams…” 

“Sounds like Apollo to me,” Nico muses. “But I don’t know if my boyfriend’s dad has ever been into cross-dressing.” 

They come to a standstill again, mulling over this puzzle. “What goddess has a crab symbol?” Percy hears Annabeth mutter to herself. 

Before he gets to think about it, another thought comes to mind. “Oh! Right — I have a feeling Coraline, her mom, knows about demigod life.”

Nico throws his hands up, releasing a violent sigh. “Then why aren’t you asking her?!”

“She’s not at home right now! I’d rather not call her if she’s busy.” He rubs the back of his neck, feeling suddenly warm. “And she’s kinda, a little bit… intimidating…”

If he collectively stacks the height of everyone’s eyebrows, he could make a ladder to Olympus. Frank and Jason cough back laughs while Annabeth scrutinises Mariana’s face as if her mother’s alleged intimidation is hereditary. 

“Seriously? Two time Saviour of Olympus is scared of a mortal woman?” Piper taunts. 

“You haven’t met her!” 

Frank clears his throat loudly and Hazel snaps twice to get their attention back to the problem. “Why do you think she knows, Perce?”

“Mariana’s never been outside of Gotham, which isn’t the most well-known demigod safe place, because Coraline doesn’t let her,” he quotes. Mariana checks her phone again. His eyes flicker towards the movement. 

“What if it was her mother’s ‘friend’ who told her to stay in Gotham?” Hazel suggests. “Maybe she didn’t know completely?”

“Nah, you don’t know Coraline Trenche. She takes ‘my way or the highway’ to another level,” Percy shudders. “As in you either listen to her, or you get dropped in traffic. She was like that when she was my English teacher back in GA, too.” 

Piper exhales deeply and sits on the floor, leaning against Annabeth’s leg. Jason slumps against the table next to Nico. Mariana shifts her weight between her feet, running her thumb across the silver chain of her necklace. Percy feels the need to ruffle her blue-pink hair and comfort her through her hidden agitation. But before he gets to, Mariana meekly raises her hand like she’s the quiet kid in the classroom. 

“Is this a bad time to say that my mom has… powers?”

If he could make an eyebrow ladder to Olympus before, now he could make one that touches fucking outer space. Maybe he can reach the space headquarters that the Justice League apparently has. 

“Better late than never,” Annabeth snorts.

Nico leans over to Frank to subtly ask if he’s “rethinking about wanting children.” Percy’s definitely rethinking about taking this job. He rubs his temples but still grins tiredly. 

“Mind telling us why you didn’t say so before, Mari?” 

“I’m not just gonna announce that my mom’s a meta! What sort of Gothamite are you?!”

“I haven’t been a Gothamite in a very long time!”

“Clearly! You don’t even carry around a gas mask!”

“It’s only been a decade! How bad has Gotham gotten?!” 

“Burn the non-Gothamite!”

Percy reaches over to give her noogie. He cackles as she screeches in protest. 

Until actual screeching cuts them both off. They stare dumbly at the red and gold phoenix perched on Hazel’s forearm which turns back into Frank. Both praetors look equal parts amused and unimpressed. 

“You two fight worse than me and Nico,” Hazel says. Jason swiftly points out that they don’t fight at all. The girl sticks her tongue out at him. (Something in Percy’s heart flares warm. It isn’t often that he sees his friends, but they’ve always given each other the comfort of feeling like the children they never could be.)

Annabeth sighs again, as she usually does around Percy. He lets go of the child, to which she replies by trying to elbow him in the gut. Except she’s only as tall as his solar plexus, so her strike hits him in the thigh. It still hurts though. Darn her and her pointy elbow. 

“What are your mother’s powers, Mariana?” Nico asks her. Surprisingly, Nico has always been the best with kids, especially as a counselor at Camp Half-blood. 

Mariana looks at each and every face in the room. Percy knows Annabeth is making a conscious effort to fall back into her usual RBF, in case it scares the girl away from opening up. 

“She can heal wounds when she sings, and her hair and her hands and her eyes glow yellow, or like gold — or y’know when Rapunzel does her ‘flower gleam and glow’ healing thing? It’s basically that, except she can only do it if I got the wound from a fight — so if I just stubbed my toe or fell off a tree or something, she wouldn’t be able to do anything—” 

“Woah woah, breathe Mari.” Percy squeezes her shoulder in comfort. The girl takes a deep, exaggerated breath as told. 

Coraline’s abilities certainly make her sound like a daughter of Apollo. Intense manifestations of power like her’s don’t usually happen in legacies, due to their diluted godly blood. It seems that his friends think the same.

“Okay, that solves one mystery…” Jason mutters. 

“Well we can’t be sure that her mom’s friend was a god,” Piper reasons. “What if she’s just a first gen legacy of Apollo?”

Vehemently, Percy shakes his head. “No, no she’s a demigod.” He lets go of the girl’s shoulder before he breaks it. “The manticore we fought said he didn’t even notice she was with me. Her scent is strong enough to cover up mine.”

Maybe he should stop with these eyebrow ladder metaphors, because he’s running out of places to reach. And their eyebrows are running out of forehead space to climb. 

Annabeth inhales sharply before letting it out in one big whoosh. “I mean, our scents do weaken as we age. But yeah, she’d still be a demigod then, if her scent is stronger than yours of all people…”

Hazel looks down at her notes. “Alright, what do we have so far… She’s Greek, female godly parent, legacy of Apollo — hey, what if her mother was a legionnaire? I could check the member files, we’ve got records of every demigod at Camp Jupiter since the start—”

“What if we just ask Apollo?” Nico blurts out. He’s staring intently at something on his phone. “Will says he’s at Camp Half-blood right now — well, he’s complaining that he’s there, actually, but semantics. I could shadow travel y’all there right now.” 

“Y’all?” Percy repeats incredulously. 

Nico blushes from the tips of his ears to his nose. “You know he’s Texan, he just rubs off on me!”

(He can hear Piper mumble, “In more ways than one,” to which Jason slaps her shoulder in mortification.)

Nico either doesn’t notice that or he’s got willpower of steel, since he merely inspects the shadowed corners of the principia. “It’ll be better if we go to the tunnel. I need better shadows for a cross-country jump.” 

In the next few minutes, Piper and Annabeth bid their farewells with hugs and head off to their college dorms in New Rome. Hazel and Frank say goodbye as well, but choose to stay in their office. Jason wants to accompany them to the tunnel, with the excuse of wanting to get to know the new demigod better. He’s friendly like that, like a big, excitable puppy. 

Mariana stares at Jason for a beat longer than necessary. She leans towards Percy, lowering her voice. "Three nickels, Perce. Three. Nickels."

“Alright,” Jason says as they exit the principia. “Got any questions before you leave, kiddo?”

Now the Trojan horse that Percy so gratefully accepted bursts open to launch her attack of questions.

“Why does no one know about this like we know about the Atlanteans and Themyscirans? Isn’t Minerva a maiden goddess? Are you related to Wonder Woman and Wondergirl? Is our scent why the monsters wanna kill us? Do we smell good or bad?”

Mariana pauses for a breath, allowing Jason to let out his booming and infectious laugh. 

“Well,” he starts. “The reason why no one knows about us demigods is because of something called the Mist, which is like magic that hides the mythical world from people who might want to use us. Wonder Woman also helps make sure the mortal world doesn't know about us so mortal villains can’t go looking for demigods to hurt.”

“Because they wanna experiment on us for our powers?” she guesses. Jason nods like it physically hurts him. 

“And Roman Minerva is strictly bound to maidenhood, but Greek Athena, kind of, makes children from her mind? I don’t know the details actually, Annabeth hates talking about it, but Athena is still technically a maiden? Anyway — I am actually related to both Wonder Woman and Wondergirl! They’re both children of Zeus, and I’m a son of Jupiter.”

Mariana grimaces. “Oh geez, I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

Percy and Nico snort at her genuine sympathy while Jason accepts her pitying pats on the shoulder. (Except he’s so much taller than her that she has to tip toe to actually reach his shoulders.) 

“What about the scent?” she reminds him.

“Oh yeah, apparently demigods smell like buttered bread to monsters, so they wanna eat us,” he answers offhandedly. 

“You’re taking all this pretty well,” Nico compliments from Jason’s other side. “New demigods your age usually aren’t this cool about it.” 

She shrugs. “I’m from Gotham.”

Percy hates that those three words explain so much. Gotham really knows no chill.

They enter the darkness of the maintenance tunnel. 

“Alright, time to hop on the Nico Express,” Percy jokes.

“Choo choo,” Nico emotionlessly deadpans. He even mimes a railway driver. 

He offers Mariana his wrist, gently reassuring her that the weird feelings will only stay for a moment, while Percy hooks his own arm around his elbow. Jason one-arm hugs Percy then waves his goodbyes. It’s the last thing they see before getting sucked into the shadows. 

Instead of the scent of sun-ripe strawberries, Percy is hit with a face full of dust. His first breath after getting shadow-punted across the nation is a cloud of mold and the stench of decaying wood. So much for a warm welcome, he thinks dryly, swatting dust bunnies from his face. 

He can’t hear Nico breathing — which is the usual, but Percy is adamant to catch him in the act. Although he can hear Mariana dry heaving and hacking out her lungs. He slips around Nico to his charge. 

“You good, Mari?” He thwacks her gently on the back. She recovers quickly, yet still pretty pale in the face, and immediately begins staring at the artifacts and spoils of war shoved into far corners of the Big House’s attic. Despite the obvious signs of danger emanating from most objects, she still pokes and prods at every one of them. Percy supposes he shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Her gaze draws to his ankles. “Oh, hello there.”

For a split second, Percy thinks she’s waving at his feet and wonders if he should wiggle them back to humour her. But when he glances down, he bites back a startled cry at the black masses wriggling on the floor. Dozens of pupil-less glowing eyes blink up at them. 

Nico huffs a laugh at his reaction, petting the shadow with tusks on his shoulder. 

“What are these?” Undeterred, Mariana crouches to her knees to get a better look. A creature with winding antlers skitters closer to her. If it had a discernible face, Percy would say it looks at her curiously. 

“My Cocoa Puffs,” Nico states. Which is his affectionate (and slightly misleading) nickname for his cacodemons, manifestations of one’s worst memories. They don’t form around him often, usually accompanying him during battle or after shadow travelling a great distance like he just did. Percy doesn’t draw his sword like when he first saw them. They are sneaky as Nico himself, providing cardiac-arrest-inducing jumpscares, but essentially harmless without Nico’s command. 

“Would it kill me if I touch it?” she asks, even though she is already hovering her hand in front of its shadowy nose. Nico shakes his head. The cacodemon nudges her fingers hesitantly. A little bit of exploration later, it nuzzles itself into her palm. In moments, a few more cacodemons surround her, sniffing and prodding and clawing at her legs. Mariana indulges them, patting their little heads and smiling bright. “Do they each have names?” 

He introduces the first creature as Grief. Guilt perches on her thigh with its spider-like legs. A houndish shadow, Rage, attempts to nibble off her elbow, but she merely smiles and scratches its neck. 

“They seem to… like you.” His mouth twitches, like he isn’t sure if he should smile or not. Percy feels the same. At their first appearance, after Percy put away his sword, a dozen cacodemons at most circled his legs. They don’t bother him too much anymore, especially after he started therapy. Even so, a couple demons he recognises to be Isolation and Self-doubt tug at his jeans. 

He really doesn’t like the implication of these physical manifestations of negativity taking to Mariana so quickly. 

“They’re adorable,” she coos. Percy thinks if she found these little guys cute, she would probably self-combust if she sees photos of the toothy deep sea creatures he’s friends with. 

When she stands up again, Grief is tucked in her arms. “Where are we?”

Nico trails behind them, looking between his little demons and Mariana. He lets a couple words slip out from his thoughts, muttering about ‘pretty young’ and ‘susceptible to negative emotions’. 

Percy answers her, “Camp Half-blood, Long Island.” 

She stops. The other cacodemons bump into her heels like dominoes. Slowly, she turns to gape at Nico, who in turn cocks his head in polite confusion. 

“Who’s your godly parent?” she asks. “Is there like a god of teleportation? Mercury, perhaps?” 

“Good guess, but nah, it’s Hades. Children of Hades or Pluto can travel through shadows.”

“Hades, huh?” She looks him up and down once. “Yeah, I see it.” 

Nico makes a face like he ate a sour lemon and scrutinizes himself. He leans towards Percy, sounding disgruntled. “Should I be insulted? ‘Cause I feel insulted.”

“Man, she’s twelve. All middle schoolers have this innate superpower to make you feel like shit.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” a voice calls from underneath the stairs. Nico immediately adorns a dopey grin on his face as he leans over to spot a head of curly blond hair. Will Solace waves tiredly, sparing a smile for his boyfriend, then jabs a thumb to the infirmary door. “Leo and I felt you guys in the attic.” 

Right, Leo and Will both have enhanced sensory receptors, along with Leo’s heightened eyesight. They can both feel the tremors in any surface, man or machine. Their footsteps in the attic must have sent vibrations down below. 

“We gotta talk to Apollo about this one over here,” Percy nods to Mariana. “Then we’ll come over to put her in the database.”

Will smiles at the young girl. “Ooh, am I getting a new sibling?”

“A niece, actually.”

He makes a noise of surprise. “Well, Dad’s just outside playing pinochle, so let me see my new family member soon, alright?” He ducks back into the infirmary without waiting for a response. 

Mariana looks back at Nico. “Is his dad Apollo?” He nods. 

“Why aren’t you asking me about my godly parent?” Percy pouts. 

“Because you have water powers, so Poseidon, obviously.” 

“Ah.”

Nico snickers. “Real articulate, Princey.” 

“Yeah yeah, shut up, Ghost King.”

“Ghost King?” Mariana’s attention snaps to the Stygian Iron sword at his hip. “Is that actually the Ghost King’s Sword from Mythomagic Online?” 

A moment of sheer mortification crosses Nico’s face, causing his cheeks to burn red. As they pass the infirmary door, Percy can hear Will’s muffled snort. Nico drags a hand down his face, covering the lower half, but his sheepish grin is still visible through the lift of his cheekbones. 

Percy remembers that particular stunt for Nico’s sixteenth birthday. As per Will and Annabeth’s instructions, they had all collectively bombarded the MythoMagic company with requests to add the Ghost King as another card. Eventually, they managed to get his sword into the online app version. Nico continues to vehemently vow that he didn’t cry, but everyone knows the truth. 

“I spent fifty dollars trying to get it from the Limited Edition Heroes’ Quest Bundle!” Mariana scuttles past Percy to inspect the sword. Nico holds it out for her to take, giving her a suppressed smile. She tries to hold it, but as soon as it leaves his grasp, the sword falls to the ground with a thunk! like an anvil. She pulls on it with both hands, but it remains stuck in the wooden floor like some goth version of Excalibur. Huffing, she stomps her foot. Rage bites the toe of her sneakers. They chuckle at her expense. 

“It’s nothing personal, Mariana.” Nico lifts his sword with ease and reattaches it to his scabbard. “Stygian Iron can only be used by children of Underworld deities. At least we can cross some gods off the list.”

Finally when he opens the door, Percy welcomes the blast of grapes, strawberries, and melting sunscreen. He soaks in the heat like a starving plant, ready to cartwheel into the sunshine—

“Oi, Perry! Quit just standing there and sit down! We need four people for pinochle.” Percy’s face sours instantly. On the porch’s table sit three men. One of them flicks back his ink black hair as he stares Percy down. Of course, trust Mr D to ruin it all like some happiness vacuum. Next to him, Chiron stops stroking his well-kept beard to send Percy a warm smile. 

“Ah, no thanks Mr D, I’m all pinochle-d out. Y’know Gotham has gambling problem,” he bears a tight grin before snidely adding, “I’m sure you know all about addictions, right?” 

Mr D adjusts his leopard print shirt and continues shuffling a deck of cards, giving Percy a sneer. “Gotham’s a great city, sounds like I would like it. Maybe I should move there as well, keep you in check, huh Peter?” 

Percy suppresses a shudder at the thought of their camp director wreaking more havoc than Gotham needs. “Even if you wanted to, you can’t anyway. What’s it, forty-five more years here?”

Mr D looks wistfully down at his Diet Coke can, swirling the liquid around. His bloodshot violet eyes glint as he takes a sip. “I’m counting down the days until I get to be free from you sack of leeches.”

“Don’t worry, so are we.” 

The man sitting on the other side of Mr D snorts ungracefully as he leans back in his chair, deeply tanned arms crossed over his chest. Running a hand through his long and untamed blond hair, Apollo beckons Nico to sit. He does, with his cacodemons resting at the foot of the table. 

The sun god greets Percy with a grin and a wave, but his eyes soon zero in on his wounded side. Percy rolls his eyes at him and waves him away. 

Percy looks back to see Mariana lingering by the door, eyeing the three men cautiously. It makes sense for a new demigod. Nico and Percy are already acclimatized to the aura of power radiating from the two Olympians. But while they don’t look like much, they still command an overwhelming presence. 

Apollo’s attention flicks over to the little girl and the blue of his eyes light up. He stands so abruptly that his chair topples over. Mariana tries to back away but she’s already ended up in his bruising hug. 

“I know you!” he laughs. The Grief cacodemon languidly stretches itself over both of their shoulders. Stark white, lightning shaped scars flex over his triceps as he tries to squeeze the life out of her. 

“But I don’t know you,” Mariana squeaks back. Percy is sure that if Apollo was any less of a divine being, he would be on the floor with a knife to his neck. She squirms and Apollo takes it as a sign to let go. 

“You’re Mariana Trenche, the daughter of Roman me’s favourite daughter! My technical granddaughter!” Nico and Percy share a relieved look. 

“You’re Apollo.”

“Yup!”

“You’re a god.”

“Correct again! Gosh, my granddaughter is so smart.”

She looks him up and down, taking in his ‘Boys Get Sad, Men Get Depressed’ sleeveless tank and khaki shorts. Unlike with Nico, she apparently doesn’t “see it”. Apollo notices with a knowing smile.

“Don’t believe me, huh? Don’t worry, your mom was the exact same the first time we met. She probably passed down those trust issues of hers.”

Percy frowns. Neither Coraline nor Mariana seem like they have trust issues. At least not with him. Coraline seems perfectly fine with leaving her daughter with him for extended periods of time, and he’s practically a stranger despite Coraline teaching him for two years in his youth. 

Apollo looks at Percy again and asks, “Lift up your shirt.”

The demigod gasps in mock horror. “Are you propositioning me right now?! In front of your granddaughter no less?!”

Sighing, Apollo covers his face with his hands. He looks up with a wholly unimpressed expression. “Just do it, Perce.”

“Thought you were Apollo, not Nike,” he snarks, but complies anyway.

Behind his NRU jacket, his blood has soaked through the T-shirt again. The gash is smaller than it was originally, thanks to some ambrosia, but blood still drips down to stain his sweatpants. Apollo snaps his fingers. Within a blink, the wound closes and all the blood disappears, leaving Percy with a tingly warm sensation running up his side. 

Mariana’s eyes go wide at the feat. She quickly scans over the rest of the men at the table. “Are they…?”

At Apollo’s nod of confirmation, Mariana scrutinises them each. She glances over Mr D’s loud fashion statements and his plump red face. “Bacchus, or um, Dionysus, right?” 

Chiron beams at her. Mr D huffs. 

“You’re my least favourite god card,” she comments idly. Percy smirks as Dionysus’ eyes flash dangerously. She continues like she doesn’t notice, “You should have more power than just 500—”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Nico’s hands slamming down on the table startle them all. Except Mariana. She looks at the teen like someone is finally speaking a language she could understand. “It’s utter bullshit that the Dionysus card has such little attack power when he’s an Olympian!”

“Exactly!” Mariana bounces on her toes. “Do you understand how powerful alcohol can be? It kills people! It’s so dumb that monsters have more power than him! He should at least be on par with Hermes!”

“That’s a bit insulting,” Dionysus says. But he watches Mariana carefully, like she’s a new species of dolphin, even when she offers him a handshake. The god merely stares at her hand, but she doesn’t relent. After a beat of silence, Mr D puts down his Diet Coke to clasp her hand, shaking it firmly. 

“Diet Coke?” She cocks her head. “No wine for the wine god?” 

“He’s been banned from alcoholic drinks,” Chiron answers.

Apollo stage-whispers to her, “The ole sperm donor upstairs grounded him.” 

“Well, if he can’t drink alcohol, why doesn’t he just drink Coca-Cola from before the 1920’s?” Mariana shrugs. “You know, when they had cocaine in them. Can’t he just summon it or something?”

A simultaneously grating yet squeaky sound alarms the demigods present. Percy glances around, looking for the threat, only to turn up empty. In slowly dawning horror, he realises that ungodly sound was actually Mr D’s laugh. 

Chiron smiles in a way that makes his eyes twinkle mysteriously. (Percy thinks that he and Alfred would get along like a Leo on fire.) “I’d rather you didn’t give him any ideas. Mariana, was it?”

“Yes.” She squints over his trimmed beard and wheelchair. “I’m guessing Hephaestus? He’s the god of paraplegics, is he not?” 

“Yes he is, but he’s not me. My name is Chiron.”

“Oh! Chiron, trainer of heroes! My mama told me about you…” She stares pointedly at the yellow blanket and well-worn book in his lap. “But she did mention you’re a lot more… equine, to be honest.”

Chiron’s laugh rumbles in his chest. “My full form is not the most minimalist by far. But magic goes a long way, Mariana. Have you explained everything to her?” Chiron asks Percy. He nods. “Great, someone should get her the Camp Half-blood Confidential, and then enter her into the database.”

Apollo scowls at the mention of CHB’s guidebook. “Ugh, that.”

“You just hate it because I make fun of your horrific orientation film.” Percy smirks as he herds Mariana and Nico back into the Big House. Apollo gets up to follow. 

“Oi, where are you going?” Mr D hollers. Apollo waves him off.

“I’m going to spend time with my family, like a good father. You wanna try it out? Might do you some good to call Bernard or Pollux, you haven’t talked to them in a while.” 

“Don’t tell me how to parent, Sunnies,” he gripes back. But before disappearing fully into the house, they can see him fishing his pocket for loose drachmas. 

The infirmary is a quiet, dimly lit room tucked away in the heart of the building. Surprisingly, it isn’t as occupied as Percy is used to it being. Rows of narrow beds are lined up with its privacy curtains drawn back, each adorned with crisp white sheets, not one bearing the faintest wrinkles of recent use. The air is a blend of disinfectant, citrus, and faint herbal medicines. They must have cleaned recently, taking advantage of the school year bringing about a lull in camp resident numbers. When Percy was still desperate to be Nico’s friend in post-Giant War, he let the younger boy ramble on about the infirmary’s cleaning procedures after his three-day stay there. Percy only teased him about it four times. (Granted he was knocked out for the rest of the rant, but it’s the thought that counts.) Will looks up from where he’s fiddling with some medical equipment on a nursing trolley. The Guilt cacodemon scuttles up his back and makes a home on his blond head. He ushers Mariana to the nearest cot, dragging a nursing trolley with him. On the next bed over sits Leo and his little brother Harley. They’re both engrossed in a little contraption in Leo’s hands, which is a usual sight. It looks vaguely like a lock from a safe, injected with mechanical steroids. Leo’s eye flick up for a second before a wide smile graces his face.

“Percy, hey! What brings you back to this neck of the monstrous woods?” His smile falters slightly, even as Percy leans in for a hug. “Thought you wouldn’t want to be back here so soon?” 

“This is Mariana.” The son of Poseidon juts his chin at her. Leo nods in understanding and he quickly goes back to his machine. However, Harley’s attention stays transfixed on the girl. When she offers him a slight smile, his head snaps down to examine the asthma inhaler in his stained fingers. 

“So you’re my grandpa?” Mariana asks Apollo. Nico and Apollo sit on the other neighbouring bed, while Percy makes himself comfortable at the foot of Mariana’s.

He hums noncommittally. “Technically, no.”

“Huh?”

“Well, your mother is Roman Apollo’s daughter. I’m the Greek version. Our Roman and Greek sides have different memories. The only reason I really remember Coraline is because she always demanded to see the Greek me whenever we met.” 

Will’s eyes tear away from the needle he’s prepping. “She knew about the Greek and Roman divide?” 

The god shrugs. “Live long enough and you tend to learn things on your own.”

“So you know who Mariana’s godly parent is, right?”

Apollo cocks his head, causing Percy to bite back a tired sigh. “You don’t know?” he whines.

“I don’t keep track of my children’s lovers!”

“You keep track of my lovers,” Will grumbles while Nico flushes next to him.

Apollo waves him away. “That’s because you only have one. Coraline, on the other hand, cycles through partners like I cycle through pants!” 

“She gets it from you,” his son quips. 

“I mean, it’s true,” says Mariana. “She’s got—” She silently tallies the number of exes on her fingers and ends up counting past two hands. “But she’s still friends with most of them though.”

“She does not get that from you.”

Apollo’s left eye twitches.

“Why do you think she’s a demigod?” asks Will. Percy repeats what he said to the crew at Camp Jupiter about their run in with a manticore and his intriguing words. While he talks, Will quietly explains to Mariana about the demigod database which came around with the portals. It enables their access to the portals, and keeps track of known demigods and legacies who go missing or — gods forbid — turn rogue. All they need is a sample of blood. Mariana’s eyes widen in alarm and apprehension as she looks at Percy. When he pats her smaller hand affectionately, a silent reassurance, she relaxes enough to offer Will her arm to inject.

Nico, who’s surprisingly very chill about this, brings up Coraline’s lady friend again and tells the rest about their theory. Harley agrees, since having a scent stronger than a Big Three demigod is no easy feat. He’s level-headed, even as he stares slack-jawed at the fellow twelve-year-old. Even Will, as he mindlessly preps a needle with practiced ease, chimes in with how everyone knows that demigods of prophecies are naturally stronger than most. (Alright, maybe Percy is the only freaking out about this. He just doesn’t want this tween, who he’s kind of emotionally attached to, becoming monster chow.)

Leo finally looks up to send Mariana an incredulous stare. “A demigod and a first-generation legacy of Apollo? Yeesh dude, why is your bloodline so jacked? Ichor should make up about 75% of your blood. You’re like, a three-quarters-blood, instead of a half-blood.”

Mariana blinks rapidly. “Did you just do that math in your head? In like, two seconds?”

“Yeah he’s a genius, you get used to it,” says Percy. 

Leo grins cockily — (don’t tell, but the tips of his pointy ears are cherry red) — and snaps a finger gun at the girl. “Leo Valdez, son of Hephaestus and everyone’s favourite bad boy mechanic.” 

“Leo, you’re twenty, quit calling yourself a bad boy.”

“Being a bad boy is a way of life, Nico, stop being a hater.” Leo makes a dramatic show of rolling his eyes. Then with his elbow, he nudges Harley hard in the back, nearly punting the boy off the bed. “And this lovely young man is my little brother, Harley!” 

Leo’s smile is over eager and over invested, while Harley looks like he’d rather be used as a straw dummy at the training grounds. As per usual, Mariana clasps his hand to shake. His skin erupts into scarlet and even Will looks a little concerned at the split second change. In typical Hephaestus kid speak, his CPU is definitely overheating. 

“My, um — my name’s Harley…” Harley grimaces at his redundant introduction. “Which you obviously know already, because Leo just told you that…”

“Oh, I have an aunt named Harley! What about your last name, though? He didn’t tell me that,” she asks, throwing the poor boy a bone. Unfortunately, it's a terrible move judging by his face.

“Uh, Davidson…” he stutters out. 

Mariana doesn’t say anything about the motorcycle he’s named after. “Well, my last name is Trenche.”

Harley doesn’t say anything about the oceanic record-breaker that she’s named after. He just grins widely in a way only pre-teens with crushes can grin. (Percy doesn’t really get it, the way people can look at others for the first time and think of anything more than wanting friendship. But if he knows anything from years at a summer camp of teens, it’s that crushes can happen fast and furiously.)

“What are you in here for?” Mariana asks. 

“Oh uh…” Harley’s face must be inventing some new shades of red. He fiddles with the inhaler next to his thigh and Mariana’s keen eyes follow the movement.

“Asthma? Oh, that must suck when fighting monsters all the time, huh?” Mariana suddenly looks at her grandfather. The god, who had spent the whole time looking between the two young demigods with an odd look, startles. “Hey, can’t you, like, heal him or something? You can just take away his asthma can’t you, as the god of healing and other stuff.”

“And other stuff?!” he splutters indignantly. 

Leo cuts in with a snort. “Nah, Harley likes his asthma. It gives him a good excuse whenever he loses at sword fighting—”

Percy winces in sympathy as Harley throws himself at his brother and slaps a hand over his big mouth. He can’t relate, but spilling your deepest and darkest secrets to a crush must be all kinds of embarrassing. (Most of his crushes already knew his deepest secrets, including his top five fears and the trauma that caused each one.) 

Mariana nods sagely. “Hm, that’s really smart, actually.” 

The boy perks up in an instant. “You think so?” 

One of Nico’s cacodemons decides this is the perfect time to pop out from its hiding spot under the bed. It scampers right under Harley’s elevated feet and jumps onto Mariana’s bed. He jerks back from where he was leaning towards Mariana with an embarrassing yelp. 

She grabs the cacodemon. Heedless of its disproportionate teeth-to-head ratio, she pats its tiny face. “Isn’t it so cute?” 

“Yeah…” he agrees, staring at her face. “Really cute.”

The adults in the room trade glances. What in Hades is going on? Leo mouths with a bewildered expression. Percy and Nico shrug in unison while Apollo strokes his nonexistent beard. Maybe he’s been spending too much time with Chiron. 

“Okay, all done!” Will suddenly announces. On Mariana’s forearm is a plain band aid covering the puncture wound which Percy didn’t even notice had happened. Seems like the girl herself didn’t notice either, by the way she ping-pongs her gaze between the band aid and the syringe full of her blood. It’s not seahorse themed, Percy notes, pouting internally. Will dusts off his perfectly clean hands and his dad beams at him with pride. Apollo snaps his fingers once more and the wound, bandaid included, disappears. Mariana gingerly taps the tender area as if she expects the skin to puncture through like a sinkhole. 

“Thanks, Uncle Will,” she grins. Percy bursts out laughing at the sheer mortification on his face.

“Oh please for the love of gods, do not call me that, it makes me feel old — Oh, shut up Jackson.”

Mariana disregards their squabbling to inspect the machine in Harley’s hands. Metallic wires loop in and through the palm sized box, save for the dial safe lock. Harley cautiously hands it to her. "It's a magic-proof, cabin eleven-proof, and cabin nine-proof lock!" he clarifies. "We're using it on the infirmary's nectar and ambrosia stores, since the other locks keep getting cracked."

"Why do you need to lock up the nectar and ambrosia?" she asks.

Will winces heavily. In an attempt to keep his hands busy, he rotates the lid of a natural burn salve on the bedside table. "Since they taste like comfort food, some demigods like to take some in order to get a quick dopamine hit because of our ADHD... Except we shouldn't be eating too much, since it would disintegrate us. So we need to lock 'em up so people don't end up killing themselves over it."

Mariana considers this with a thoughtful tilt of her head. "Hmm, eating your comfort food would be a nice way to go, to be honest..." 

Harley snatches the lock from her hands. "Please don't die," he pleads. 

"Oh fine, if you insist. Guess I'll have to settle for death in glorious battle." 

"Or a big, fiery explosion," Leo recommends. "It's a tried and true classic!"

Percy kicks his friend hard in the shins. 

"Speaking of glorious battle and explosions and death," Nico says. "Are you gonna stay for Capture the Flag?"

Before Percy can answer, Harley starts bouncing on the bed in glee. "Aw yeah, surely you can! Everyone would love to, since you haven't been back here in ages!" 

The older demigods suppress their flinches at Harley's last comment. As much as it pains him to do so, Percy shakes his head. "We gotta head back by the time dinner starts. Sorry to disappoint, little guy."

To his credit, Harley doesn't look disappointed at all. "Well, we can just move it up for after lunch!" he says, like it's obvious. Well, it actually is obvious, when they think about it. "I can go tell Chiron and everyone else."

The rambunctious energy drains out of him when he turns to Mariana, replaced by a shy decorum. He offers her a timid hand for support. "Would you like to come with me? I can give you a tour of Camp..."

She nods and ignores his hand to jump down the bed herself. He visibly wilts, until she hooks their elbows together and drags him to the exit, and his rosebud cheeks come back in full bloom. They practically run out with Harley starting a ramble about his newest invention — something about a voice modifier based on cyclops' abilities to mimic voices. “It’s based around their unique vocal cords!” he says before they're out of earshot.

Leo and Will migrate to the back of the infirmary to talk about the safety lock and Nico follows Will as per usual. Apollo, carefree and seriously weird as gods are, spontaneously disappears in a burst of golden glitter. Percy doesn't waste a moment to leave, lest he be given the duty of cleaning up the remains of Apollo’s dramatic exit. He bolts past Chiron and Mr D with a hasty excuse about needing to tidy up his cabin (which hasn’t been touched in months) and books it away from the Big House. 

The dragons, Festus and Peleus, lounge around Thalia’s pine tree at the peak of Half-blood Hill, tails flicking each other playfully. The Athena Parthenos and the Athena Polias sit on either side of the tree, looming twin guardians against the threats outside.  Demigods and satyrs on the volleyball courts stop their game to stare at him as he runs past, and he gives them a sheepish wave. Nymphs and dryads alike peek their heads out of Canoe Lake and begin their airy gossiping whispers. He knows everyone will know the news of his arrival in the next minute, if Harley hasn't managed to do it instead. 

New Delphi emerges from behind the strawberry fields, where the sun casts a golden glow over the whitewashed stone buildings. The city, designed to evoke the grandeur of ancient Greece, features narrow cobblestone streets winding through the heart of the settlement, lined with olive trees, fragrant bougainvillea, and hyacinths. Small, open-air cafes spill out onto the streets, offering delicacies ranging from honey-drizzled pastries to black coffee. The architecture of the town, credited to Annabeth and her siblings, is a harmonious blend of classical Greek design and modern amenities. Apartments are constructed with smooth, white stucco walls, their roofs topped with red clay tiles. Wrought-iron balconies overlook the streets below, often draped with vines, bringing bursts of color to the pristine stone facades. Some buildings near the center are still wrapped in scaffolding, but it doesn’t take away from the homey atmosphere. The Hephaestus kids tinkering away perched atop roofs wave down at him. 

The ring of cabins appears in view as he treks further into camp. Campers are already straining their necks from outside their respective cabins to catch a glimpse of him. Someone's shocked gasp rings in his ears and he glances around to see a girl pointing him out to her friends. He waves and they erupt into giggles and greetings. This starts off a chain reaction of cheers from other cabins as he heads to cabin three. Percy does his best to acknowledge them all, but he can't help himself from walking a little faster to hide behind his door. The red patches across his neck start to soothe as he breathes in the slightly salty air of the Poseidon cabin. Truly, he loves the campers and loves to interact with them. But it's overwhelming, knowing that the majority of demigods idolise him and his friends. He understands why little kids want to become like the rest of The Seven when they grow up, because they're amazing, talented, good people. But people thinking of him as a role model? That rattles something deep in his chest like a broken washing machine. (Try as he might to unwire the self-depreciation from the grips of his mind, but even some of Pollux, his therapist's best self-love affirmations can't undo a lifetime of resentment built in his system. Though after all, Rome wasn't built in a day.) 

He considers going back out to help Mariana and Harley, but the soothing wooshes of water draws him further from the door. The calm aura perpetually coating his cabin highlights how heavy his limbs are. Before he falls face first into his bed, the water fountain at the corner of the cabin peeks into his peripherals. The notion of sending his family a quick Iris Message pops up, but he waves it away. He'll be in and out of here before they'll know anyway. 

Percy reawakes at the sound of the lunch horn reverberating through his head, sending a slight shock to fully wake up his body. Groggily, he peels himself off the silk bedding and runs a hand through his horrific bed head. Even if he was only conked out for fifteen minutes or less, there's a patch of drool on his pillow. He summons a wave of water to wash over his face and send some energy back into his muscles. 

Outside, Apollo's chariot is at the pinnacle of its path. Apollo himself is lined up diligently in his cabin's line, chatting with his children as if they are his best friends instead. As he ambles towards the dining pavilion, Percy idly wonders if the sun chariot's horses appreciate being left by themselves for days on end. 

Again, Percy is alone at the Poseidon table. Before he sits though, he spots Mariana and her newest fanboy in the crowd. Mariana is at the very end of Cabin 7's line, leaning past a few Hephaestus kids to talk to Harley. She catches Percy's eye and darts through the mass to reach him. Will, as the head counselor of Cabin 7, opens his mouth to call her back but ultimately turns away when Percy waves him off. Harley also follows her, but Leo (who's technically head counselor of Cabin 9 when he's at Camp) doesn't try to stop him, too engrossed in a trinket in his hands. 

"Did you know Harley made a whole functional Iron Man suit when he was eight!" Mariana screeches as soon as Percy is in hearing range. Well, Percy is almost always in hearing range, so her high pitch is only amplified and serves its purpose of worsening his headache. "Isn't that so cool!"

Percy nods. "Yeah, I saw it in action a couple times. It did some real nasty damage on monsters."

"Really? That's so cool, dude!"

Said boy merely twiddles his thumbs at her gushing. "I can use it when we play Capture the Flag, if you want? I've upgraded it a whole bunch so I can show you all my moves."

Mariana, bless her sympathy for the boy and his awkward flirting skills, doesn't say anything about the accidental innuendo that she definitely caught and just nods eagerly. There's a familiar spark of passion in her bright blue eyes as she slides into line in front of Percy and rants about all of Camp's cool (and highly dangerous) amenities. She likes the idea of Capture the Flag, which Harley had explained the rules of, and is especially fond of the safety regulations, or lack thereof. 

"I'm gonna win for sure!" she declares. A few chuckles rise from demigods around her and she frowns at them with all the disdain a middle schooler can summon. Which is a lot. But she bounces back to her usual enthusiasm and rambling in no time.

“Do you know that some of the dryads think that camouflage print is like cultural appropriation? I was just talking to some, it was actually really interesting!” It baffles Percy’s introverted nature at how outgoing Mariana is. 

After they get their food, the line continues to the campfire. Mariana glances around confusedly. 

"We need to give a tribute to the gods before we eat. Oh, well, we don't need to. But it's tradition, I guess," Percy explains. An enticing amalgamation of scents wafts further down from the plumes of smoke reaching for Olympus. Mariana recoils back when she smells it, possibly expecting the smell of ash instead of sweet nectar. Percy gestures to the campers in line. One son of Nike asks his mother for a new pair of running shoes, while a daughter of Hermes prays to Tyche for luck during her latest prank. "You can say anything at all. Ask the gods for gifts, blessings, attention. They'll answer your call if they know what's good for them." He punctuates the last sentence with a sharp glare at the clouds. 

He goes to offer a demonstration for her, as he usually does with new campers. But she's already inching her food off her plate. A few soggy grapes roll off and she catches the rest before they dive bomb with their brethren. 

"I don't care who you are, just please, please, pleaseee give me cool powers," she begs the fire.

Percy smiles thinly. There is always a large portion of new campers who view the godly world as a chance to gain powers like the heroes they see on screen. Except the only heroic fate they're all stuck with is that of a Greek tragedy. 

Unwilling to draw his dad's attention, Percy only flicks the least appetising morsel of cheese into the flames. But even then, the familiar sound of the ocean resonates in his head like he's listening to it through a conch shell. He sighs outwardly as the godly presence occupying his head increases. Guess he'll need to grab a Panadol from the infirmary after this.

Percy! His father's deep voice booms. The edges of his voice drag against Percy's mind like waves weathering a rock. You haven't contacted us in a while!

"Geez Dad, could you get any louder?" he snarks. Poseidon, one of the more pettier gods, takes this as a sign to blast dolphin noises into his head. Percy clutches his forehead and grunts. Mariana tilts her head at him but other demigods don't bat an eye. Harley drags her away and explains the situation as they walk.

"Maybe this is why I don't contact you often, ever thought about that?" Percy says as he massages his temples. 

That's a terrible reason. I only did what you asked. Percy can't see him, but his mind's eye pictures his father hiding a smug grin. 

"Wow. Har har. That's a real knee-slapper," he deadpans. "Are you the god of comedy or the ocean? Stay in your domain, Dad."

Poseidon sighs into his mind. He can't out-sarcasm his son even if he tried. I was just wondering what you were up to. You know I hate Gotham and its bays. Poseidon's disgust is palpable which Percy has to agree with.

"That's exactly why I moved there. So you can't have your team of spy crabs sneak into my apartment like you did for my dorms."

Oh, I fired those crabs. They were terrible spies. Terrible mostly because they couldn't help themselves from becoming fan-crabs when they saw their Prince. It was even weirder when he was trying to change while all he could hear was their snappy claws. But we both know that's not why you went to Gotham. 

Poseidon states it with too much certainty for Percy's comfort. He stays silent and his father gets the memo. 

Take good care, son. Of yourself, and the girl. 

"Wait, what—" 

See you soon!

"Dad? Dad, what do you mean?" Percy rapidly taps his own forehead, willing his father to come back. He drops a few more pieces of food into the campfire but to no avail. His brain remains empty save for his own confusion. Still dwelling on Poseidon's ever cryptic goodbye, Percy sits at his table and chows down. But the food falls straight into his gut where a pit of dread grows like bacteria on a Petri dish. He keeps eating but he doesn't feel any fuller. A few campers, young ones clinging to their older siblings in a vice grip, inch towards his table to hand him little arts and crafts. He smiles, pats their heads, and thanks them for their masterpieces. His table space quickly fills up with drawings of him and his friends, wonky sculptures of pegasi, and even a customisable voodoo doll from a particularly proud child of Hecate. The table feels a lot less lonely now. 

Nico and Leo stride over to his table, ignoring their own completely. Leo places a small potted cactus next to Percy's gift pile.

"A gift from a girl in Cabin 4," he says. "I'm gonna let Calypso put it in her garden. Do you think she'll like it?"

"She likes everything you give her," Percy reassures. They sit down just as Chiron enters the pavilion.

"Campers!" Chiron calls, pounding his hooves. He stands at full height. They all fall silent. Percy sees Mariana sitting next to Kayla Knowles, gaping at his equine lower half. Chiron looks expectantly at Mr D, who stands up drowsily with a huge sigh. 

"Well, hello brats. Since we have another wonderful saviour of Olympus here to grace us with his damned presence," Dionysus sneers at Percy, looking over Nico and Leo's heads, "Capture the Flag has been moved up to lunch so he can participate."

Everyone cheers. There are a few concerned faces, with siblings putting their heads together to figure out a strategy working around the new timing. The Athena cabin is calm though; they’ve probably already made a plan for this. Annabeth would be proud.

"I sincerely hope you all beat him into the ground," Mr D continues. "And we have a new camper. Mariana Trenche. Say hello. Or don't, I don't care." 

Percy raises his eyebrow at the correct pronunciation of Mariana's name. Making it on Dionysus' 'I Don't Hate You As Much As The Others' list is a big feat, on her first day no less. 

Nico shrugs. "Dunno, maybe it's something about the Mythomagic cards? I know I talked about his card when I first got here too."

"Maybe he's a secret Mythomagic fanatic and all the pinochle is just a cover for his obsession," Leo theorises. 

"Oh my gods, he's onto something!" Ignoring their food, Percy and Leo launch into a perfectly plausible theory about Mr D’s secret interests. Nico rolls his eyes next to them. Their speculation takes up the rest of lunch and soon it's time to start the game. 

The trio don't bother with getting their armour on. They just wade over to their side of Zephyros Creek with their flag. The flag shimmers in a blend of orange and purple, emblazoned with a gold Greek omega within a golden laurel. It's just them versus everyone else. It's hardly a fair fight. But luckily, it's just three saviours of Olympus this time, so the campers don't kick up a fuss about tipped scales. 

"Alright, Leo you know where we're putting the flag, right?" Percy hands it over to the man. "Make sure your automatons are surrounding it, but hidden. Drape Calypso's camouflage foliage over them. I'll stay on border patrol at the creek. Nico, summon some skeletons and have them stationed around the forest. But um," Percy winces, "please be careful that they're not demigods? We wanna rough up the campers, not mentally scar them. Staying alive does that enough." 

Nico gives him a lazy salute in confirmation, but Percy knows the nonchalance is just a facade to hide the guilt from last time. Leo treks off to their agreed spot, humming the chorus to 'Stayin' Alive'. 

Playing the part of a leader comes naturally to him. As easy as slipping into water, he falls into the role effortlessly. Sure, he made up their plan on the spot. But it's the false confidence, the quiet belief, that pulls him through. Besides, his friends trust him implicitly. He'd never break that trust.

Chattering campers creep closer to the creek. He can hear the Ares cabin's rising voices and unrest against Cabin 6's strategic persuasion as they decide which team will lead the whole camp. Their voices get louder and louder, and Percy smirks through his headache. It will be easier to beat them if they're already divided within their own ranks. Time to show them a great lesson in the Power of Friendship.

Mariana lingers with the Apollo cabin, talking animatedly to anyone around her. She has her bracelet set to dagger form. Will isn't in their crowd, probably stuck on medic duty instead. A stocky Iron Man suit made of celestial bronze, with obviously Harley inside it, hovers next to her. Like, literally hovers. The boosters lift him a couple inches off the ground. Mariana's helmet and chest plate are way too big for her skinny frame. It's surprising that Harley didn't raid the entire forge for her, but it's tradition for the newest campers to get final pickings. She tugs at her armour restlessly like she's got ants in them. When she somehow catches his eye through the trees, she sends him a massive grin, which he returns. Be safe, okay? he mouths. He can't read her lips nor her sign language but her double thumbs up reassures him enough. 

The campers come into full view. The plumes on their helmets are both red and blue, since no one needs to differentiate between teams. Their trio is recognizable enough. The campers' flag is silky grey with a painting of an owl above an olive tree. Percy takes a quick photo to send to Clarisse La Rue, ex-head counselor of the Ares cabin, just to spite her. 

Chiron hammers his hoof for attention. Apollo stands next to him with butter yellow war paint dripping down his perfect skin.

“Heroes!” Chiron announces. “You know the rules. The creek is the boundary line. The entire forest is fair game. All magic items are allowed. The banner must be prominently displayed, and have no more than two guards. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged. No killing or maiming is allowed, and the penalty for this is no dessert for a week. I will serve as referee and battlefield medic." 

The horn blasts long and hard. In an instant, there's a mad scramble to get across the creek. Get stuck on the other side and they all know there's no way to get past Percy. 

He waits patiently for their thirty-second head start to cease. As soon as Chiron nods at him, a staggering wall of water rises from the creek. Campers still wading across get knocked back into their territory. Two gigantic hands form from the wall at his command and he begins scooping along the river bank for stray demigods. A dozen or so teens end up wriggling in each fist and he throws them into the trees. Their startled screams accompany his laughter. Out of his peripheral vision, he sees many demigods fighting toe-to-toe against Nico's Underworldly army. Nico himself is nowhere to be seen, as usual. For all the gods know, he could be chatting it up with his boyfriend in the infirmary. Percy plucks up a few struggling campers and hurls them across the river. Leo is probably deeper in the woods, dropping his machines on unsuspecting teens. He tends to avoid fighting within the forest, especially after he set half of it ablaze two years ago. The ground rumbles and splits a few metres to his right for a new hoard of skeletal army veterans to spill out from the dark depths. Percy attempts to fist bump the nearest dead guy as a thank you for their involuntary support, only to be brushed away. (Percy tries not to feel too butthurt about it. Maybe they didn't invent fist bumps before World War 2?)

Suddenly, a shrill shriek cuts into his eardrums.

"Percy! Percy, help! Please!"

Other demigods with the same enhanced hearing as him look up. But he doesn't notice their concerned glances because he's already bolting through the trees. The voice keeps screaming.

It sounds more and more like Mariana the further he strays from the creek.

Percy curses at himself with each second. How could he let her fall into the claws of danger so quickly? She's a good fighter, but Gotham drunkards are a different kind of monsters from the ones lurking in this forest. 

His feet falter when he passes a familiar set of armour on the ground. It's mangled and scratched up with a sizable dent in the helmet. Three equal-sized gashes rip into the chest plate. Percy's heart constricts in his throat.

Her voice is closer and louder than ever, but Mariana herself is nowhere to be seen. His migraine pulsates in his brain, but his worry hurts more. In a small clearing ahead, Leo's automatons lay motionless like a pile of scraps. A cluster of dryads surround it, tearing apart the camouflage covers with a vengeance. He considers asking them for help. But he hesitates after one nymph uses her razor-sharp teeth to rip up the faux foliage further.

"Mariana? Mariana, where are you?!" he calls frantically. No answer.

Crunch! Something snaps underfoot. Percy's mind spins into hyperdrive.

It's her bones, you just stepped on her leftover corpse Percy, this is your fault Percy, how could you leave her— 

It is not her bones. It's a hand-sized contraption that looks like a bronze iPod. Wires peek out of the cracks and twitches in his hand like a half-dead cockroach.

"Per— He-help— Per-ercy— Me-e," it screeches. Wait a minute...

There's a small engraved initial on the bottom right corner. H.D. 

The reality of their plan hits him with terrifying clarity. Before he can even appreciate the sheer cunning, he's darting back to the creek. The creek that he just left completely defenseless. 

He encounters a group of gutsy demigods trying to challenge him, but he defeats them in no time. There aren't any campers at the border now. Just as he finishes restoring his Great Wall of Percy, Leo and Nico run out from opposite sides of the forest. Nico holds the other team’s flag but he’s still a long distance from home territory. 

"The flag is gone!" Leo pants out. "And my children are dead!"

“Ah shit!” 

Nico’s cursing draws their attention to where he’s looking. High above them, a Bronze Man suit flies while princess-carrying a familiar girl in his arms. The flag is wrapped around her unprotected torso like a sash, and she holds its pole like a spear. Mariana’s grin is visible even as they coast over the treetops. They seem to be talking rushedly while Mariana squirms in his grip.

Percy is sure that under the helmet, Harley’s face is burning hotter than Leo’s flames. Alright, maybe his head is getting a little too hot, Percy thinks when he drops the girl from 20 metres above the ground. Even then as she's freefalling, Percy exhales in relief. At least she's somewhere he can see. He forms a giant hand of water and scoops her up from the sky. 

She's safe, he chants in his head. She's safe, she's safe, she's safe, she's — gone?

A second ago, Mariana was stuck right between his fingers, frowning at her watery captor. But in the next, Percy's hand is completely empty. He releases the hand back into the creek slowly, in case she's just invisible. But he can't feel her presence at all. He creates small waves, searching for her body, but he turns up empty. Readily, he jumps into the creek to look with his own bare hands. Strength surges into his limbs but it cannot dislodge the anxiety making home in his nerves.

"No, no, no, no no no—" Percy whips his gaze to Nico.

The son of Hades shakes his head vehemently. "No death at all. She's still alive, we just can't... see her."

"Wait, what about the flag? She still had the flag, didn't she?" a brazen camper asks. His friend elbows him in the gut.

"The flag isn't important anymore!" Percy roars. His fists shake with anger and panic, and the ground trembles in solidarity. "Mariana? Please, if this is part of your grand plan to win—"

"It's not." Harley squeaks, voice small in a way Percy has never heard before. "We learnt from Mariana's new dryad friends that Leo used camouflage to cover his guard automatons, so she asked them to point out where they were. Our whole plan was for me to shut them down, while Mariana steals the flag. And then we used my voice imitator with her voice to lure you away from the border so we can fly over without getting caught. But then we must have timed something wrong, because you were there, so she started insisting that I drop her, and that she'll make it to the other side without a scratch! I didn't want to at first... but she's really persuasive..." 

Harley's pale and stricken complexion bursts into red again. 

He inches towards the creek like he wants to join Percy in his search. Percy begins wondering why he doesn't do just that, until he takes a proper look around him. Choppy and unrestrained swells break the water's surface. Campers slowly creep back as the water level rises with each breaker. 

Chiron clip-clops down to the riverbed, scanning it with his keen eyes. Apollo follows beside him. Pure light energy crackles at his fingertips, making up for the dark look on his face. He's always been a bit overprotective of his descendants after his trials as a mortal four years ago. His eyes flicker over the water. Abruptly, his demeanor relaxes completely. 

"No one has taken her. She's still in the vicinity," he confirms. There's the beginning of a sly smirk on his lips. "She's just... hidden herself in plain sight."

Percy stalks towards him. "Apollo, I swear to gods if you don't tell me where she is right now—"

Suddenly, there is a collective gasp. Percy's head shoots up, expecting to see Mariana face down in the water, only to find the water moving onto the riverbed on its own. Sinewy tendrils of water rise up and weave together like muscle rebuilding itself in a time lapse. The vague shape of a short child appears as a result. 

"Uh, Percy?" Leo whispers.

"That's not me," he insists. The most intricate things he can form with water are swords or a wobbly heart. A whole human is out of his pay grade.

Without warning, the figure pops like a water balloon.

In its place stands Mariana Trenche, perfectly dry from head to toe. Her legs wobble. She unties the flag from her torso and uses the pole as a crutch. Her agape mouth flounders as she hurriedly pats herself down, checking that she is indeed flesh and bone again. A myriad of curses in English and Spanish leave her lips (all of which Percy understands, since cursing was the only thing Leo taught him in Spanish). Her entire body remains unchanged, clothes and all.

Except for the glowing, blue, crab claw horns sprouting from her hairline. 

"By the gods..." Chiron gasps. 

Percy squints. The only other times he sees those horns is...

He can't stop himself from slapping his forehead. The horns, the consistent crab memorabilia... His family might kill him for not figuring it out sooner. See you soon, his father had said. He knew, of course he would know—

"Hail, Mariana Trenche," Chiron starts gravely. The horns dissipate. Like a holograph, the flag glimmers into a pretty teal shade with a painted trident and twin dolphins on either side. "Daughter of Amphitrite, mother of sea creatures, goddess of the sea."

—about Amphitrite's demigod daughter. 

“You’re telling me to drown myself.”

“No I’m not.”

“You’re telling me to go underwater and stay there?”

“It’s not drowning if you can’t drown.”

Mariana pulls a face. “Right, you won’t die if you just don’t die,” she mocks.

“See, you’re getting it!”

Long Island Sound now looks like a fissure between the sky and the sea. Percy kind of regrets making her swim all this way. She initially put up a fight about swimming in her land clothes, but after she remained dry when Percy dunked her with a giant wave, she shut up. She isn’t tired at all, which is typical for a child of the sea. But she has taken to pouting at him the whole way. He should be treating her a little better, right? She is his baby sister, after all. The thought pulls his mouth into another grin. 

Right after Capture the Flag had ended, he had chanted “Lit-tle sis-ter, lit-tle sis-ter!” so loudly that the whole camp couldn’t help but join as he smeared wet sand on her forehead and lifted her up like baby Simba. Camp Half-blood already loves her after she, alongside Harley, championed their once-in-a-blue-moon Capture the Flag win against members of The Seven. They lifted Mariana and Harley, in his Bronze Man suit and all, like they were crowd surfers. 

"Just breathe," he tells her now. 

"You're telling me to breathe in unbreathable substances!"

Percy sighs dramatically. "Okay, fine. Do you want a demonstration? Some proof, I guess?"

'Proof' seems to be the correct buzz word for the little wannabe scientist as she nods eagerly. He sinks and the water accepts him like a second skin. There are already some fish venturing towards him, curious about their princeling and the newest member of the family. In front of him, Mariana's legs dangle. A devious idea lights up in his mind. In a flash, he grabs her ankles and pulls straight down. She doesn't waste a second in thrashing around and kicking his arms. She opens her mouth, probably to scream some choice profanities at him, but ends up sucking in a lungful of water. Her scrunched face falls slack and a trail of bubbles escape her mouth as she tentatively exhales. What the actual fuck? she mouths. She reaches up to touch her empty neck, probably looking for Atlantean-like gills that aren’t there.

Believe me now? he speaks into her mind. 

Her jaw drops even further. Holy shit, are you in my head? Do you have telepathic powers? she badgers him, floating up to prod his temple. Are you a Martian?!

I'm not, but that would be cool as fuck though. He gestures for her to follow as he swims ahead. We can communicate like this to other sea creatures when we're in the ocean because sound doesn't travel well underwater. And it extends to each other, since we're kinda like sea creatures too. 

That's so cool!

Fish gather around them — a few parrotfish, a school of coral groupers. They nudge and nip at Mariana's bare skin. She preens under the attention. She lets them indulge in their curiosity and awe, answering their overlapping questions about herself and the land life. They seem to gravitate towards Mariana more Percy, he notices. The lack of attention is refreshing on his constantly overstimulated brain, while Mariana seems to thrive under the spotlight. A few wonderstruck barracudas circle him at a safe distance soon after and he lets them. 

Every time they try to pull away from the crowd, another school of sea creatures surrounds them. A couple lemon sharks, octopi, a school of tuna and a couple clownfish that Mariana affectionately names Marlin and Nemo (there's an insurmountable number of clownfish with the same names due to Percy's unoriginality, but he doesn't tell her that).

So I guess women and fish wouldn’t put aside their differences to beat the living hell out of me, Mariana muses as she pulls away from a particularly eye-opening chat with a blue tang. 

Love the implication that women and fish usually have some kind of feud.

No wonder you’re my brother.

Percy laughs, releasing more bubbles into the water. 

Wait, I have a question, she interrupts. What do I do about my swim team at school?

Your swim team? He scratches his cheek. Uh, try not to win too much, I guess?

Mariana rolls her eyes. What did you do in your swim teams?

Well, I never joined my school swim teams since I was mostly homeschooled at the palace. And I always felt bad for the other mortals whenever I swam, since I'd be so much faster than them without even trying. 

Mariana looks like she couldn't give a damn about feeling bad. Her grin splits as wide and toothy as a Great White. He can already see a future of gold trophies and podiums in her eyes.

You should be alright if you make sure to not breathe underwater, come out of the pool completely dry, or reach supersonic speeds.

Wait, what? Her swimming halts. Supersonic speeds? Can I do that? Can you do that? And what's this you said about a palace?

Percy smirks. Without another word, he grabs her hand and shoots off into deep blue. Everything is a blur as they zoom past. Mariana leaves a stream of bubbles behind as she clutches onto him for dear life. Percy can't tell if she's screaming or laughing. Percy maneuvers into currents and wills them into inhuman speeds. He only realises they have reached their destination when he feels the palace looming ahead of him. He eases to a stop and tries to release Mariana, but she holds steadfast to his torso like a koala on a tree. 

Mari, c'mon, we're at the palace now, he urges.

We're where?! 

In the ravine below, the grandiose entrance glimmers with an otherworldly luster. Coral reefs intertwine with the walls, casting colorful, soft lights throughout the entire space. The palace's architecture blends Greek and ancient Atlantean designs, featuring towering marble Corinthian columns adorned with intricate carvings of mythical sea creatures and gods of the deep. 

Gently, he guides her towards the forty feet tall double doors. A bridge of abalone and stone crosses over the underwater river of unnaturally fast currents. A squad of burly Atlanteans guard the length of the bridge. They startle at the sight of him with Mariana. 

"Ana'x!" they exclaim in Atlantean. He raises a hand for them to be at ease but they salute anyway, with an outturned fist raised to their forehead. He can practically see the gears shifting in each of their heads as they regard Mariana's presence. They kneel onto one knee and only rise once the two have entered the palace. They pop into the water bubble that keeps the palace dry on the inside. Percy adjusts to the weighted feeling with ease while Mariana wobbles gently like a baby giraffe. 

Huge archways open into expansive halls, their floors made of polished stone, which glows faintly with bioluminescence. Crystal chandeliers made from pearls and shells hang from the high ceilings, swaying gently with the currents. The walls are lined with seaweed tapestries depicting creatures and gods alike, as if the palace itself is the ocean. Beautiful, vast windows offer a panoramic view of the endless blue, with schools of fish darting by and gentle sea creatures gliding past like ethereal beings. The further they venture, the more lively the halls become. Attendants, Atlanteans and nymphs alike, bow deeply with a salute. Percy nods and waves to them all while Mariana looks on in awe. She's unnaturally quiet as he launches into an impromptu tour. 

The rooms are a blend of luxury and tranquility, where more sea-themed tapestries and golden trinkets shimmer softly in the very pale sunlight filtering through the water. Large, open courtyards have pools where the ocean's tides flow in and out. Dolphins, turtles, and even the occasional giant whale drift by the windows, adding to the dreamlike atmosphere. Percy quickly strides past the West Wing, where his bedroom resides. Percy greets the two ichthyocentaurs posted at the doors of the throne room who cordially smile back while nodding respectfully at Mariana. At the heart of the palace, the throne room stands resplendent with a grand throne made of coral and precious gems, set upon a raised platform surrounded by swirling currents and majestic sea flora. The air is heavy with salt and mystery. 

At the heart of the palace, the throne room stands resplendent with two 40 feet tall thrones made of coral and precious gems, set upon a raised platform surrounded by swirling currents and majestic sea flora. 

With the first step Percy takes into the throne room, Poseidon appears on his throne in a flash of light.  The marble floors tremble with his arrival. He thumps the base of his trident against the ground, sending staggering ripples into the ocean. The laugh lines around his mouth crease further as he frowns down at them.

Percy sighs at his father's dramaticism. 

Despite Poseidon's usual unimpressive attire of a Hawaiian print shirt and khaki shorts, Mariana's face blanches at the sight of him. Percy remembers the first time he saw his father, the unyielding urge to kneel in his presence. She clutches the edge of her shorts until her knuckles turn white. But she doesn't stand down — or she refuses to, at least. Her head remains high and she maintains her steady and even breaths. Poseidon doesn't back down either, which is unfortunate and unsurprising.

"Dad, c'mon stop it. You're scaring her," Percy complains.

"I'm not scared!" she squeaks. She winces at her own voice crack. 

Poseidon shrinks down the normal height and floats over to them. He scrutinizes Mariana carefully until Percy jabs him in the ribs. 

"Ow! No need for violence," he grumbles even though he wasn't even able to feel the tiny attack. "Is this how I raised you?"

"You didn't raise me, Amphitrite did," Percy deadpans.

Like a daemon summoned, the goddess of the moment glides into the throne with her ethereal grace. She swoops out from behind them, letting the flowy white fabric of her dress flap around their legs. Her pitch black hair falls across her back in slow motion as if it operates with its own laws of gravity. She drops a kiss onto her husband's bearded cheek and moves to press a motherly kiss to Percy's hairline like she usually does — until she finds Mariana's gaze and falters. 

The shift in the air is palpable. Percy doesn’t know how to describe it exactly — there is no grand gesture, no dramatic music in the background, but in that brief, quiet second, it's like the entire world fell silent. The girl hesitates, her eyes wide with uncertainty, before she carefully lifts her foot. It hovers in the air, stuck in the suffocating suspense. Ultimately, she brings her foot back to where it was, choosing to move no closer or further. The goddess' lips part, as if she wants to speak but the words cling to the back of her throat. She doesn’t move either. There is something fragile about the space between them, a kind of hesitation that spoke of years lost, years that no one could ever truly recover. Percy stands perfectly still in fear of breaking the air.

And then, after what felt like an eternity of stillness, Amphitrite steps forward. Slowly, as though she isn’t sure if it is safe to approach. Mariana stays rooted in place. Her mother takes a breath, and without a word, she closes the distance between them. In a movement that feels both sudden and inevitable, she reaches out, her arms folding around the younger one in a tight, desperate hug. They crumple to the floor with Amphitrite letting her daughter's legs rest on her lap. The goddess is taller than all of the occupants of the room, and at least twice as tall as her daughter. But at this moment, she looks so, so small. Mariana's arms raise hesitantly to return the embrace. Amphitrite's head lifts to face her step-son.

Thank you so much, she mouths to him. Glistening, mother of pearl tears collect in her eyes. Percy nods once then turns away. He strides out of the throne room. He can feel Poseidon's presence following close by. Poseidon clasps his hands behind his back and whistles a little sea shanty as they walk alongside each other. 

"What is it?"

"What is what?" Poseidon asks in faux cluelessness. 

"You have something to say, say it then. Never thought you of all gods would be one to hold back."

The god sighs. “You didn’t come for movie night.” If Percy didn’t know any better, he would say his father is pouting. 

“As much as I love The Little Mermaid, I cannot sit around to watch Triton commit it to memory because he thinks it’s a prophecy.”

"Oh you can't blame him for that!" Percy rolls his eyes. The first time they watched the movie when Percy was new to the palace and craving some mortal connections, Amphitrite had hooked up a few mortal channels to Hephaestus TV. Poseidon and Triton had gotten so enraptured in the idea of the movie becoming a prophecy that they tracked down Apollo just to confirm it. (Poseidon did it mostly because he'd rather fade from existence than let his son marry a mermaid named Athena. It’s probably considered to be a type of blasphemy.) In the end, Apollo merely shrugged noncommittally and went on in pursuit of yet another tree nymph. 

"One of Mariana's powers is being able to turn into water," Percy starts, in an attempt to change the subject from his prolonged absence. Poseidon clocks his intentions immediately, but keeps quiet. "Like completely, like how Frank turns into animals and all of his clothes stay on, y'know?"

Poseidon cocks his head. “Amphitrite is often used as a metaphor for the ocean… Seems fitting that her daughter inherited that.”

“What, so Mariana can straight up become the ocean?”

“Yes, I think she can straight up become any type of water, not just the ocean.”

He can't, nor tries to, hide his violent cringe. “Please don’t ever say ‘straight up’ ever again, it sounds wrong.”

“It feels wrong saying it,” Poseidon admits with a shake of his head.

“Then why would you say it?”

“Well excuse me for wanting to relate to my son!”

Percy snorts. "I mean, you're my dad. Isn't that kind of enough relation?"

Despite Percy's backhanded comment, Poseidon grins like a lottery winner. 

"Right, I'm your father," he mutters, mostly to himself. "Not that silly little rich mortal."

Silly rich mortal? The gears stop spinning in Percy's head. He skids to a halt and gawks at the god. "Wait—" He puts his hands out in front of himself like an attempt to separate himself from the situation. "Hold on, are you jealous of Bruce?"

Poseidon’s expression changes as fast as the currents under his domain. He looks enraged one second then constipated in the next. “No!”

“Are you sure? Your snide comments say differently.” He raises his eyebrow. Poseidon copies the movement, and for a split second, Percy feels like he’s looking into a mirror. It’s staggering how much the god’s ichor overpowered Sally Jackson’s DNA. (He says that Percy and his mother smile the same way. Percy holds onto this fact like a promise bound to words, an anchor in the seabed.)

There's another flash of bright light and Percy instinctively squeezes his eyes shut. When he opens them again, his stepmother and her daughter stand in front of them. Amphitrite’s eyes are red rimmed but her face is clear. A corner of her wine red lips quirk up — a habit of hers when she's exuberantly happy but trying to maintain her regal composure. 

"Percy," she officially greets with a nod.

"Amphi," he nods back, then turns to Mariana. His cheeks hurt from his beaming smile. "Little sister."

"Step-sister," she corrects. But she's grinning either way. "Ooh ooh, check this out!"

Reaching up to her crab claw necklace, she pinches the pincers together. In a swirl of bronze and gold metal, a shield the size of her whole torso shoots out from her collarbone and attaches itself to her forearm using a leather brace. It has a monstrous crab and laurel wreath engraved to the front. "I got this from—" she hesitates, shooting a sidelong look to her benefactor.

"Did Amphitrite give it to you?" Percy asks just to save her trouble. She nods quickly.

“She’s given me a lot of gifts, like the bracelet! What did Poseidon give you?”

“Daddy issues.”

“Sucks.”

"I know right?" Percy side-eyes his father who suddenly finds the decorated walls (of this palace he's inhabited for millennia) very interesting. "Just wait until you meet Triton. He's got it worse, somehow."

"You might need to meet your siblings another day," Amphitrite says. "Coral will be waiting."

The nickname rolls off her tongue with such ease and practice, coated in honey-sweet fondness. Even Poseidon twitches his eyebrow in surprise. That tone hasn't been heard in a while — it only comes out on rare occasions, like Percy and Triton agreeing with each other or Poseidon calming down by himself. Mariana scrutinises her newly found mother with a dangerous intensity that Amphitrite pretends not to notice. 

Percy's phone reads 7:12 PM. He waves her away. "Mariana said she comes back at eight-thirty. We've got plenty of time."

Amphitrite shakes her head. The intertwined seaweed strands in her hair flutter. "Trust me. I know Coraline Trenche well." Conviction binds to her voice like a tree rooted to the earth. 

Mariana scrunches up her face in a disgusted confusion. "Well, she's my mother," she sniffs haughtily.

"And whose fault is that?" Amphitrite deadpans, looking down at her daughter. Mariana clamps her mouth shut and sulkily looks to the side. Laughing, Percy hooks his arm around her neck and hauls her away from their immortal parents. 

"C'mon, Mari. Let's get away from these old geezers, and I'll tell you all about your kingdom."

At the word 'kingdom', her darkening blue-green irises brighten to their usual sky shade. Percy shoots the gods a lazy wave and a smirk, when Amphitrite catches his attention. Her face, usually a well contained and frozen statue, morphs as the layers of control drop. She looks open, vulnerable, in ways she cannot afford. She reaches out hesitantly to Mariana, who is turned away.

Please take care of her, my son, she thinks into his mind. Emotions swirl just beneath the surface of her dark eyes, barely contained. 

He smiles, truly. As if you even have to ask, Mother.

Supersonic jetting should become a mainstream mode of transportation, Percy thinks. It’s fast, reliable, and offers an amazing view of the sea’s churning colours as he whizzes past. Usually he’s alone when he swims across oceans but Mariana’s company proves to be just as quiet as his usual trips. It’s worrying, when all he knows of her from the past month is her chronic yapping and a dazzling grin. But now, tucked in his arms, her brow stays minutely furrowed as he chats on about the ocean. 

“You okay, Mari?” he pauses his chatter to ask. Mariana puffs out her cheeks as she thinks for a moment. Percy draws back the urge to pinch her. 

“Can we see stars from here?” 

Without hesitance, he makes a sharp right angle turn upwards and shoots for the surface of the sea. They break the gentle waves and he creates a solid island of water for them to sit on. Mariana wastes no time in tilting her head straight back and staring at the sky in open mouthed awe. Stars, billions of them, scatter across the skies. They twinkle at each other, each sending out its own story into the world through secretive winks. Not a single cloud obstructs their view. Percy silently thanks The Fates for Zeus’ good mood tonight. She drags a hand through the water and sends ripples into the sky’s reflection. Stars dissipate into fragments, glitter across a pitch black canvas. They are surrounded by stars from all sides, like they are swimming in the sky itself.

Mariana doesn’t try to hide her noises of wonder. Stars like these aren’t just rare in Gotham. They’re impossible. Everyone knows Gotham has no stars to protect her, no stories in the heavens. Only the stories told by blood and cracks on the ground.

“What did you and Amphitrite talk about?”

She deliberates in her head. “She told me about the weapons she gave me and how they only fully activate in the presence of a monster… Uhh, she also said stuff about how she’s proud of me and to not blame Mama for not letting me see her. I’m pretty sure she was crying the whole time…” she teeters off uncomfortably. Her words sound similar to what Poseidon told him at twelve years old. Maybe the goddess just took a page out of her husband’s book and made it better, as per usual. 

Laying flat on her back, Mariana reaches high above her head, trying to grab the light for herself. Percy lays down next to her. He guides her hand to point at Polaris, Ursa Major and Minor, Gemini, Andromeda. He recites their stories off by heart, just like his mother did. Mariana likes to cut in whenever she knows the story, finishing it by herself and beaming when Percy applauds her. 

He reaches a constellation she would not know.

“That’s the Huntress.” He steers her finger to trace the figure of a girl running across the sky. “Her name is Zoë Nightshade and she’s one of the bravest people I ever knew. Lady Artemis put her in the sky to honour her legacy and her sacrifice in the war.”

Percy swallows thickly. Mariana falls silent for a minute, giving the constellation her full attention.

“Did you watch her die?” she asks, not unkindly. Just innocent and, horrifyingly enough, understanding. 

“Her own father, Atlas, killed her,” he says with a bitter edge. 

Mariana just nods. “One of my friends died like that too. Drunk bastard killed her and her mom a couple years ago. Another friend died the same year. Overdose. Stole them from his mom. Same thing happened when I was nine.”

She says this all matter-of-factly like she’s just reading recipes from a cookbook. Her voice does not waver and her heartbeat stays steady. 

“A few got caught up in the gang war that happened last year. The news said that only gang members died, but that’s a lie. They just don’t care enough to look for their bodies.”

Percy is careful not to open his mouth in case he lets out the choking sob clogging up his throat. He shuffles closer and offers her his hand to hold. Her grip nearly cuts off his circulation.

“Mama cares, though. She sets up funerals for all my friends with her own money. She says people don’t deserve to pass away alone even if they lived a lonely life. That’s why I don’t really like wearing black clothes, because it means someone’s died. But Mama gets that it’s all traumatic and stuff so I go to therapy like twice a month. Do you go to therapy, Perce? You probably should. Watching a friend is not good for your mental health, trust me.” 

“Yeah, don’t worry, I go to therapy.” Percy’s voice sounds far away, even to himself. It feels like his skin is floating away from him as he sits up and pulls the little girl into a hug. She clings back fiercely, burying her nose into his shoulder.

She is so small in his arms. Her heart beating fast sounds so fragile, so flimsy. 

“I swear on the River Styx,” he hears himself whisper into her hair. “That I will use all of my power to protect you.”

Thunder booms distantly. But all Percy thinks about is his little sister’s heartbeat and how he will never hear it stop.