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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

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All Apart of Something's Game

Chapter Three: I Get To Be Right For Once

Dinner came both far too soon and not soon enough. I was starving and I was sure Tyson was too, if his grumbling stomach had anything to say about it, but I knew we were going to have to face the rest of the campers in order to get food.

We stood in the shadow of a marble column and watched them file in, my eyes trying to find campers I recognized and who was new.

Annabeth was shaking as she walked towards her cabin, her hands forcibly still as she moved to lead them to their seats. Her oldest sibling was seventeen, but hadn’t arrived to camp until three years after Annabeth. Seniority wins, even if age doesn’t.

Next came Clarisse, leading the War cabin. Her injuries were taken care of and there was evidence of nectar healed cuts all over body. They must have given it to her after they set her shoulder, to help progress the healing.

The other cabins filed in behind them with tired faces and dropped shoulders. It was like the entire camp was going through college finals and kept pulling all-nighters.

I had been told to wait until the last of the campers filed in by one of the satyrs, though it was more of a game of telephone since he reeked of fear whenever Tyson even looked at him. Poor Tyson sneezed too. I tried to get Tyson over to my table as quickly as possible, but I stupidly stopped to glare when I heard someone make a comment about Tyson at the Sun’s table.

“Peter Johnson, joining us at last.” Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke and pretended he didn’t flinch when I turned to look at him.

I normally wouldn’t have bothered to correct him, but there was someone new at the head table. Someone who smelled of blood and wine in a different way than Mr. D, a way that screamed anger and vengeance. It was only fitting to introduce myself. “Percy Jackson…sir.”

Mr. D sipped his Diet Coke. “Yes. Well, as you young people say these days: Whatever.”

He looked different than he did last summer, less of a beer-bellied deadbeat from Las Vegas. The blotchy redness to his cheeks hadn’t faded and he was as large as ever, but his shoulders were wider and his chin stronger.

The stranger was sitting in Chiron’s chair, hunched over his empty plate like he thought someone was going to steal it. A starved animal. Hungry. He sniffed the air once like he wasn’t interested, but I could see the way his eyes widened slightly and his hunger drove his nails further into the table. “Poseidon’s child. How…wonderful to meet you.” His smile turned sharper, more predatorial. “I am Tantalus, on special assignment here until, well, until my Lord Dionysus decides otherwise. And you, Perseus Jackson, I do expect you to refrain from causing any more trouble.”

I held back a hiss at the names he was throwing around like they didn’t make my skin crawl off my body, as if he couldn’t feel the heaviness of the air as he said them. He had to know. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to say things just because, if he was a man at all.

His gaze pinned me to the spot despite the fact that I wanted to run to my table, to have something more physical between us. I could practically hear his voice, pizza grease and beer dribbling down his chin. Did I say you could go, boy?

A goblet was placed to his right by a nervous satyr who glanced at Mr. D for reassurance. A nymph brought a plate of barbeque to the table next to him, pulling the poor thing away once their jobs were done.

The hungry thing in Chiron’s chair reached for the goblet first and gripped it like a lifeline, licking his lips and narrowing his eyes. “Root beer. Barq’s special stock. 1967.”

I didn’t understand what he was until I heard his growl, watched the goblet slam down on the table and his hands pull back. I didn’t understand until the goblet filled as it was supposed to, like it hadn’t ignored the rules of camp moments ago.

Mr. D was radiating amusement and spite, something dark in his scent that caused me to shift nervously. Even if the other demigods didn't know exactly what it was, I could hear a few of them also moving behind me. “Perhaps now it will work. Why don’t you try a sip?”

The monster grabbed for the glass, but it scooted away before he could touch it. A few drops of root beer spilled, and he tried to dab them with his fingers but it was as if he was trying to catch a magnet with its opposite. He growled and turned toward the plate of barbecue, but that too ran from him before it could end up on his fork, let alone in his mouth. It growled again, glaring at the empty table in front of him while he silently seethed.

“Aren’t you a bit far from the Fields of Punishment?” I asked. We’d seen him when we passed by on our way to my Uncle’s palace, in his lake with the hanging fruit tree. “Whose bright idea was it to put you in charge of children?”

Mr. D sighed like he was bored but I didn’t believe for a second it was him. His sons were here, Castor and Pollux if I remember right. I only really knew of them because they’d visit their dad every few days for a chat. They were the outliers of camp, getting to have their parent in their lives.

“Now that would be telling,” the wretched-one sneered at me. “I’ll be watching you, Percy Jackson. I don’t want any problems at my camp.”

My camp! my mind screamed, enough that I had to clamp down on my tongue to stop it from causing a fight. No matter who sat in the Camp Directors chair, no matter if Mr. D was here or not, Camp Half-Blood was mine. It was Annabeth and Grover’s home. It was safety. Or at least it was supposed to be and if I could help it, I would make it again. “Your camp has problems already…sir.”

“Go sit down, Johnson,” Mr. D said, gesturing away from their table. He must have grown bored with me. “I believe that table over there is yours.”

I didn’t dare say another word as I grabbed Tyson’s hand, earning a few gasps from the audience, and moved to pull him along with me.

“The monster stays here.” It’s teeth glinted in the fading light, making them look sharper than they were. A cheap trick. “We must decide what to do with it.”

“Him,” I snapped. “His name is Tyson. He assisted border patrol today in protecting the camp, putting himself literally in the line of fire so we’d have time to regroup.”

“Well it certainly would be easier if it were a crispy kyklops, but they are rather fire resistant, aren’t they?”

Mr. D hummed into his can of Diet Coke.

“To your table, chop chop,” the monster said through white teeth. He knew what he was doing. He didn’t care. “We need to decide this creature’s fate.”

Tyson grew up on the streets and clearly knew a threat when he saw one because he looked at me with so much fear it hurt to meet his eye. I couldn’t disobey an order, not so obviously. Not without Annabeth to get me out of trouble.

“I’ll be right over here, big guy.” I pointed to my table and made sure to keep my voice calm. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

Tyson nodded. “I believe you, you are a good friend.”

I patted his arm one more time before taking my seat. Normally I wouldn’t eat when I was this upset, but I took great delight in tearing apart the Olympian olive-and-pepperoni pizza a nymph brought me while staring directly at our new camp director. I wanted to see how many colors I could make his stupid undead face by the end of the night.

Of course I dropped an offering in the bronze brazier. I thought of the one they thought my father was, who Tyson’s father most definitely was, and prayed they could help. I went back to my seat and proceeded with my plan to torment the head table. I didn’t think things could get much worse.

But then Tantalus had one of the satyrs blow the conch horn to get our attention for announcements. I let his name out once in my head, curious to see what would come of it. But it didn’t feel like I thought it would. There was the barest of touches on my nose, like a soap bubble popping, but nothing else. It was like calling Mr. D, well, Mr. D. It was still a title, but it wasn’t the right one. Not the most powerful one.

Interesting.

Tantalus waved his hands to get everyone to stop talking, not even bothering to stand up. “Another fine meal! Or so I am told.” He eyed the refilled dinner plate next to his hands, but kept them to himself until he looked away. As if the food wouldn’t notice he wanted it if he wasn’t looking. “And here on my first day of authority,” he continued, as if his hand wasn’t inching towards it. “I’d like to say what a pleasant form of punishment it is to be here. Over the course of the summer, I hope to torture, er, interact with each and every one of you children. You all look good enough to eat.”

I growled.

He made a grab for the plate but it simply zipped away from his fingers and onto the floor.

Tyson was still standing at the head table, looking uncomfortable, but every time he tried to scoot out of the limelight, Tantalus pulled him back.

“And now some changes!” he declared, standing to emphasize his point.“We are reinstituting the chariot races!”

Tantalus was an idiot. His announcement about the return of the chariot races landed with mixed results, mostly disbelief, but the medic campers from the Sun table looked ready to murder him in his sleep.

One in particular was starting to glow faintly at the edges, his eyes flashing solid gold and his blonde hair curling towards the top of his head in what sort of looked like ears. He had to be new, or I would have noticed him sooner. Most of the Sun’s children were more classical, but this one…oh this one was newer. And yet, far closer to what I was than any of his siblings. He would be one to watch.

I was pulled out of my musings by one of his sisters revealing the casualty list from previous chariot races, causing some of the campers who looked excited to shrink back a little. Deaths in camp weren’t supposed to happen. Mutilations on the other hand…not really all that surprising.

“Of course, but what honor and glory will fall to the winners, eh?” Tantalus looked over the crowd of campers with gray eyes. “The first race will be held in three days. We will release you from most of your regular activities to prepare your chariots and choose your horses. Oh, and did I mention, the victorious team’s cabin will have no chores for the month in which they win?”

While the idea of no chores was tempting, I didn’t expect the complete 180 it made those on the fence do.

Finally, someone stood up to say something, but it wasn’t who I would have first thought of.

Clarisse might have been a bully, but she was also possessive and she thought camp was hers. It was kind of funny. Her hands were shaking slightly, but her scent gave nothing away as she stood from her seat. “What about patrol duty? I mean, if we drop everything to ready our chariots—”

“Ah, the hero of the day,” Tantalus exclaimed even as his eyes narrowed on her. I held down a growl. “Brave Clarisse, who single-handedly bested the bronze bulls!”

Clarisse blinked, then tried to argue. My respect for her went up slightly as her eyes flickered to her fellow patrol members, their arms still bandaged to keep the healing salve in place. Most campers couldn’t take nectar or ambrosia very often.

Tantalus brushed her off, his smile not reaching his eyes and his hands curling like claws as he literally waved for her to sit.

“But the tree—” Her siblings pulled her down, one even going as far as to cover her mouth. Apparently his future trip to the infirmary appeared worth it.

“Before we proceed to the campfire and sing-along, one slight housekeeping issue. Percy Jackson and Annabeth Chase have seen fit, for some reason, to bring this here.” Tantalus waved a hand toward Tyson.

I gripped the table as my claws tried to expand. The noise of the stone scraping was enough to force them back, if just so I wouldn’t have to hear that. I still wanted to slice Tantulus’ throat to ribbons. The urge only increased as he started spreading fear through the campers by reminding them of the one-eyed-ones ‘reputation’ as it were.

I wanted to roar in defense of those in the forge, remind them all who exactly made the god’s weaponry. And imbed a trident into the stupid things gut.

And yet Tantulus was still talking. “We need a place to keep it! I’ve thought about the stables, but that will make the horses nervous.” His gaze turned to Cabin Eleven’s table, where Travis and Connor Stoll were looking at the wood determinedly. They’d taken over for Luke after…he’d left.

My teeth snapped aggressively. The Traveler’s cabin was filled to the brim as it was, and the campers who were actually the Traveler’s children were probably still reeling from Luke’s betrayal. I had my suspicions about him from the beginning, but he was an integral part of the camp. Everyone was feeling his loss, especially his siblings.

“Come now,” Tantalus chided. “The monster may be able to do some menial chores. Any suggestions as to where such a beast should be kenneled?”

Suddenly, gasps filled the pavilion. Tantalus scooted away from Tyson in surprise. Swirling over Tyson was a glowing green trident—the same symbol that had appeared above me the day Poseidon had claimed me as his son.

Being claimed was rare. I knew that. I hated it, hated that there were other campers that might never know who their parent was, or even worse, did know but still hadn’t been claimed. But I knew the look on Tantulus’ face. He smelled blood.

I stood as calmly as I could, despite my pounding heart, and walked over to Tyson. “Guess it’s official then! Come on, you get to sit with me now.” I nudged him with my elbow to get him to stop looking at the glowing trident.

He looked down at me, confused. “Off-ish-al? What did that mean?”

“We’re brothers.”

Tyson frowned and went to say something, but he was cut off.

Tantalus roared with laughter. “Well! I think we know where to put the beast now. By the gods, I can see the family resemblance!”

Everybody followed his lead and laughed except Annabeth and a few of my other friends.

I grinned sharply at him, letting my mask slip just the barest bit so my eyes went completely black. With the campers behind me, the only other one to see was the twice-born god. You have no idea.

The ghost flinched back in surprise.

I shoved my more monstrous features back in the chest I was forced to keep them in, turning back to my table. It really didn’t seem that appetizing to have to stay, so I came up with a better idea. “Come on, Tyson. Let’s go fishing.”

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #feral percy #all apart of something's game

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

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All Apart of Something's Game

Chapter Two: No One Bullies My Family But Me

I know what my mom might have wanted me to do. She didn’t like when I ran away from things. But monsters attacked, Annabeth was here for some reason, and Tyson was panicking. He’d never dealt with any other monsters before, not after the sphinx.

Speaking of Annabeth, she was waiting for us down the street. She pulled Tyson and me off the sidewalk just as a fire truck screamed past, heading for Meriwether Prep. “Where’d you find him?” she demanded, pointing at Tyson.

I will admit to being a bit animalistic in my possesiveness of my friends and if it was under different circumstances, I might have hugged her and checked over her injuries. But I’d just been attacked by cannibal giants, Tyson was my brother, and all Annabeth could do was glare at him like he was the problem.

It wasn’t like I could actually tell her that middle bit though, not without questions, so I settled for, “He’s my friend.”

“Is he homeless?”

“What does that have to do with anything? He can hear you, you know. Why don’t you ask him?”

She looked surprised. “He can talk?”

“I can talk,” Tyson admitted as he shifted under her atttention. “You are pretty.”

“Ah! Gross!” Annabeth stepped away from him like he had just thrown up or something.

I growled lowly and stepped between them, keeping Tyson behind me. “Leave him alone,” I hissed warningly. I didn’t want to have to choose between them, not when I wasn’t sure who I would side with. When she raised her hands to show she was backing off, I turned to check Tyson over for injuries.

“‘m okay,” he promised and showed me his palms. “The fire no hurt me.”

“Of course not,” Annabeth muttered like he was an idiot and I shot her another look. She of course ignored me and I was starting to remember how annoying she could be. “I’m surprised the Laistrygonians had the guts to attack you with him around.”

“Is that what they were? Back in the gym. Laistry-what?”

“Laistrygonians. They’re a race of giant cannibals who live in the far north. Odysseus ran into them once, but I’ve never seen them as far south as New York before.”

“Laistry—I can’t even say that. What would you call them in English?”

She thought about it for a moment. “Canadians,” she decided. I snorted and she grinned cheekily before her face went serious again. “Now come on, we have to get out of here.”

“I don’t think the police will be after me, I mean maybe for a witness statement? I think I did a good job of…”

“That’s the least of our problems,” she interrupted me. Which was honestly kind of fair. “Have you been having the dreams?”

“The dreams … about Grover?”

Her face turned pale. “Grover? No, what about Grover?”

“He was getting chased by something, something I couldn’t…he was in Florida.” I tried to put my thoughts together and told her about my dream. Tyson patted my head to comfort me and I resolutely ignored him. He was also doing it because he was taller and he could.

“Why? What were you dreaming about?” I asked.

Her eyes looked stormy, like her mind was racing a million miles an hour. “Camp,” she said at last. “Big trouble at camp.”

“What about camp? My mom was going to talk to me about something tonight.”

“I don’t know exactly. Something’s wrong. We have to get there right away. Monsters have been chasing me all the way from Virginia, trying to stop me. Have you had a lot of attacks?”

I shook my head. “None all year … until today.”

“None? But how …” Her eyes drifted to Tyson. “Oh.”

Oh. So Annabeth knew what Tyson was then, which I guess explained a bi of her behavior, but at the same time he had just saved my life so I was still a bit annoyed. “Look, I get that he’s big but he’s really funny and my friend, so I don’t get why you’re so…”

“Percy, you don’t get it okay, he’s…”

“He’s what? There’s nothing wrong with him.” I crossed my arms and she did it back, flexing just to show off how much bigger her arms were than mine. I had let my training slip a little over the school year, mostly because my mom said no weapons training in the apartment.

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “He’s not…you know what, we don’t have time for this, we have to get going.”

“No! You can’t keep talking about him like he’s not here and not explain why you’re being a jerk.”

A siren wailed. A police car raced past our alley.

“We don’t have time for this,” Annabeth said. “We’ll talk in the taxi.”

“A taxi all the way to camp?” I said. “You know how much money—”

“Trust me.”

I hesitated. She was acting so weird but if camp really was in danger…“Tyson is coming too.”

“Yeah.” Annabeth looked grim. “We definitely need to take him. Now come on.”

I didn’t like the way she said that, as if Tyson were a big disease we needed to get to the hospital, but I followed her down the alley.

“Here.” Annabeth stopped us on the corner of Thomas and Trimble. She fished around in her backpack, her tongue sticking out slightly from between her teeth. “I hope I have one left.” She was even worse than I’d realized at first. Her chin was cut. She smelled like wet soil and decaying leaves, and not just because of the ones stuck in her matted hair. That was going to be a pain to fix. She was also scared. Really scared.

“What are you looking for?” I asked.

All around us, sirens wailed. No doubt Matt Sloan had given them a statement by now. He’d probably twisted the story around so that Tyson and I were the bloodthirsty cannibals, but I still had a little hope I had done enough to convince them it wasn’t my fault.

“Found one. Thank the gods.” Annabeth pulled out a drachma.

“Annabeth, New York taxi drivers won’t take that,” I reminded her. “Who are we catching a ride with?”

”Stêthi,” she shouted in Ancient Greek. “Ô hárma diabolês!” Stop, Chariot of Damnation!

I took a step back as the words washed over me and made my skin crawl with their prickling. That didn’t exactly make me feel real excited about whatever her plan was.

She threw her coin into the street, but instead of clattering on the asphalt, the drachma sank right through and disappeared.

Then, just where the coin had fallen, the asphalt darkened. It melted into a rectangular pool about the size of a parking space—bubbling red liquid like blood. Then a car erupted from the ooze.

I couldn’t stop a growl from the back of my throat coming through, which made Tyson reach out to hold my hand. The whole thing radiated power. Old power, but not old in the way my father was old. As if it had always been old, was born old. I know children of Wisdom are supposed to make good plans, but I was starting to doubt that.

The passenger window rolled down, and an old woman stuck her head out. She had a mop of grizzled hair covering her eyes, and she spoke in a weird mumbling way, like she’d just left the dentist after a shot of Novocain. “Passage? Passage?”

“Three to Camp Half-Blood,” Annabeth said. She opened the cab’s back door and waved at me to get in, like it was perfectly fine.

“Ach!” the old woman screeched. “We don’t take his kind!” She pointed a bony finger at me, barring her gums. “Or the other one.”

“Extra pay,” Annabeth promised, though she glanced at me uncertainly. “Three more drachma on arrival.”

“Done!” the woman screamed and pulled herself back into the window and rolled it back up.

I shoved Tyson in the car first, knowing on turns he would squish whoever was next to him and that Annabeth would probably have something to say about sitting next to him. I squeezed in the middle. Annabeth crawled in last.

Of the three sisters in the front seat, the one driving said, “Long Island! Out-of-metro fare bonus! Ha!” She floored the accelerator, and my head slammed against the backrest.

The drivers argued back and forth, naming each other with each ease even as their power started flooding the taxi and swirling like their smoke around our feet. I pulled mine up for a second, before deciding having them flat on whatever counted as the floor was better than balancing on my tail the whole ride.

Next to me, Tyson groaned and grabbed the seat. “Not feeling so good.”

“Oh, man,” I said, because I’d seen Tyson get carsick before and it was terrifying to say the least. “Hang in there, big guy. Anybody got a garbage bag or something?” This is why we never took taxi’s.

That and they were for tourists who didn’t know better. If you could walk, you walked. If you could take the subway, take the subway. Who drove in the city?

I looked over at Annabeth, who was hanging on for dear life, and I gave her a why-did-you-do-this-to-me-you-lived-on-the-streets-for-almost-a-year-you-should-know-better look.

She rolled her eyes at me because of course she did. “Hey,” she said, “Gray Sisters Taxi is the fastest way to camp.”

“We’ve had famous people in this cab!” the sister on the right exclaimed. “Jason! You remember him?”

“Don’t remind me!” the driver wailed, swerving to avoid a group of cosplayers trying to use the crosswalk. “And we didn’t have a cab back then, you old bat. That was three thousand years ago!”

“Give me the tooth!” the one on the end tried to grab at the driver's mouth, but she was swatted away. The one in the middle looked so tired and for a second I related so hard.

It only took a second before she was brought into the fight, the others demanding the eye they shared between them. “No!” the one in the middle screeched. “You had it yesterday!”

“But I’m driving, you old hag!”

“Excuses! Turn! That was your turn!”

We swerved at seventy miles an hour and boy was I glad I was in the middle as I slammed into Tyson. If I had been on the other side, I would have been a bug on the windshield. We shot up the Williamsburg Bridge at seventy miles an hour, the three sisters slapping at each other as they tried to grab at each other's faces. With their hair flying and their mouths open, screaming at each other, I refused to look out any of the windows since clearly our driver wasn’t either.

The one with the eye managed to steal the tooth from the driver and shoved it in her mouth triumphantly.

The car swerved towards the edge of the bridge, cars honking and swears ringing through the air. I wasn’t sure if it was because of our taxi or it was just a typical day for everyone.

“‘Ivit back! ‘Ivit back!” the driver screeched.

“You’re going to die, if anyone’s interested! I don’t think anyone else would survive falling off a bridge!” I mean. Tyson might and it’s not like I’d ever let Annabeth die. But it would still really suck.

“The Gray Sisters know what they’re doing. They’re really very wise,” Annabeth tried to assure me. It really should have worked, coming from a daughter of wisdom.

Yeah. It didn’t.

The one on the right grinned, showing off her newly acquired tooth. “Of course we’re wise! We know things!”

“How late the subway is going to make you!” the driver bragged, still hitting her sister. “The capital of Tuvalu!”

Funafuti, my brain provided for some reason. How I knew that, I have no idea. Maybe it sank?

“The location you seek!” the middle one added before flinching back.

Her sisters pummeled her from either side, screaming, “Be quiet! Be quiet! He didn’t even ask yet!”

“What location? What do—?”

“Nothing! You aren’t seeking anything, just as you said!”

“Tell me.”

“No!” they all screamed.

What followed…was NOT my fault, no matter what Annabeth says. The sisters, in their arguing, actually ended up fighting each other and flinging their eye into the back seat with us. Which meant no one driving could see.

NOT my fault!

She’s totally right about what came next though.

I picked up the eye.

“Nice boy!” the driver cried, as if she could still see me through it. “Give it back!”

“Not until you tell me. What is the location I seek?”

“No time!” the middle sister cried. “Accelerating!”

I refused to look out the window, knowing I would see something that might make this harder for me. I needed it. I needed to know what they meant, it sang with power and something wild.

“Percy! The cab will explode into a million pieces and us along with it! Give them back the eye,” Annabeth demanded. I ignored her.

I grinned sharply even though they couldn’t see. “Tyson, roll down the window.”

“No!”

Tyson, even nauseous and trying not to shower us in vomit, listened to me.

“30, 31, 75, 12!” they screamed.

The numbers settled on me like an itch in my skin. I knew what that meant, I did, but I didn't understand. I know that it’s a location, that I need to find something, but I was missing something and I hated it. “Where is that? What do they mean!”

“That’s all we can tell you,” the one on the right screeched. “Now give us the eye! Almost to camp!”

She wasn’t wrong, I could see the road turning to dirt and the trees were thinning towards the hill, except Thalia’s in the distance.

“Percy!” Annabeth said more urgently. “Give them the eye now!”

I decided listening to Annabeth was probably the best idea, since she tended to be right more often than not. By a lot. It was really annoying sometimes. I tossed the eye to the driver.

The old lady snatched it up, pushed it into her eye socket like somebody putting in a contact lens, and blinked. “Whoa!” She slammed on the brakes. The taxi spun four or five times in a cloud of smoke and squealed to a halt in the middle of the farm road at the base of Half-Blood Hill.

Tyson belched loudly, thankfully having opened his door too. “Better now.”

I groaned from my bruised arms. “Do we pay now?”

“Out! Out!” the sisters cried instead.

“Let’s go,” Annabeth said determinedly.

I crawled out of the cab after her, only to be slammed with the smell of rotten eggs and singed hair. It was like being back with Smelly Gabe and I growled automatically, my hair standing up on end.

It wasn’t hard to find the source. Why was it always bulls?

On the list of mythological things I hated, trios of old ladies were at the top. But bulls? Oh bulls were a close second. I had to fight Pasiphae’s son getting to camp and it almost killed my mother. For that alone they really should be at the top of my list.

Maybe after this fight, they’d officially be at the top. Two bulls, bronze ones the size of elephants, and breathing fire were rampaging the hill.

Our drivers sped away the second we were free from the cab, not even waiting for the extra drachmas they’d been promised. They just left us on the side of the road, Annabeth with nothing but her backpack and knife, Tyson and me still in our burned-up tie-dyed gym clothes.

“Oh, fuck,” Annabeth said she looked over the battle. If it wasn’t so dire, I might have gasped at her language.

The bulls were ranging all over the hill, even around the back side of the pine tree. Even before Thalia’s sacrifice, the border around camp was strong enough to handle most monsters, except those sent by the Gods themselves. For the bulls to be crossing the border, the entirety of the camp’s defenses had to be failing.

Ten campers in full armor were trying their best to defend the border, but they were mostly running around and trying not to die. All except one.

“Border patrol, to me!” A girl’s voice called—gruff and familiar.

Clarisse.

“We have to help her,” Annabeth said as she pulled her knife from…somewhere.

Normally, rushing to Clarisse’s aid would not have been high on my “to do” list. She was one of the biggest bullies at camp. The first time we’d met she tried to introduce my head to a toilet. She was also a daughter of War, and I had a very serious disagreement with her father last summer. She hates me because she thinks I humiliated her dad. Totally not projecting because I beat her during that one fight, my first Capture the Flag. I went to therapy for a little while because my mom was willing to try anything when I was younger, but then the therapist tried to eat us, so no more therapy.

No matter what my feelings about her, or more accurately her feelings about me, she was in trouble. Her armor was charred. She was fighting with a broken spear shaft, the other end embedded uselessly in the metal joint of one bull’s shoulder.

I uncapped my ballpoint pen, my sword blazing to life in my hand. It didn’t feel as right as my claws, but it was still better than every other weapon I’d tried. “Tyson, stay here. I don’t want you taking any more chances.”

“No!” Annabeth said. “We need him.”

I stared at her. “He can’t, he’s just a…”

“Percy,” she snapped, “do you know what those are up there? The Colchis bulls, made by Hephaestus himself. We can’t fight them without Medea’s Sunscreen SPF 50,000. We’ll get burned to a crisp.”Annabeth rummaged through her backpack and cursed. “I had a jar of tropical coconut scent sitting on my night-stand at home. Why didn’t I bring it?”

“I don’t know what that is, but he is staying out of this. Tyson, stay back.” I raised my sword. “I’m going in.”

“Percy! I—” He tried to protest, but I was already running up the hill.

Clarisse was calling for the others to get in phalanx formation, with the few who were listening lined up shoulder-to-shoulder, locking their shields to form an ox-hide—and-bronze wall, their spears bristling over the top like porcupine quills.

Annabeth went for the campers who were too busy trying to avoid one of the bulls attacks to join them, probably hoping to allow more to join Clarisse since she didn’t have a shield to do it herself. She taunted one of the bulls into chasing her, then turned invisible, completely confusing the monster.

I was close enough to start seeing who was under the helmets, but I forced my brain to focus on the danger. None of the campers seemed to notice me, all of their attention on the enemy in front of them.

“Hold the line!” Clarisse ordered her warriors.

Even if I didn’t like her, I had to admit that I saw a lot more of her father’s older form in her than the new one I had met on my quest last summer. She was brave and looked like she was born to wear Greek battle armor, born to lead an army.

But she didn’t have an army. She had six campers.

There was a shout as the bull chasing after Annabeth lost interest, turning instead towards Clarisse as the biggest threat.

I didn’t dare say anything to distract her. I yelled for Bull Number Two, growling loudly enough that it actually hesitated.

Bull Number One slammed into the phalanx, forcing them back an inch but still bouncing off their shields. It roared in anger and blasted some of the heroes with its fiery breath. Their shields melted right off their arms. They dropped their weapons and ran as Bull Number Two closed in on Clarisse for the kill.

I lunged towards her, grabbing the straps of her armor. I dragged her out of the way just as Bull Number One freight-trained past. I gave it a good swipe with Riptide and cut a huge gash in its flank, but the monster just creaked and groaned and kept on going.

My scales bubbled to the surface before I could stop them, the heat radiating off the stupid things melting my mask right off my arms. I hissed from the pain, but I had to get Clarisse to safety even if she was cursing me the whole time.

I dropped her in a heap next to the pine tree and turned to face the bulls. We were the only line of defense between them and the camp at our backs, and I refused to let it fall.

Annabeth was taking over for Clarisse and trying to get the campers to spread out and keep the bulls distracted. Even with their injuries, they could still run.

However, both bulls only had eyes for me. Did they know what I was? Did they know I was their biggest threat? I longed to unleash my rage on them but even if I saved camp like that, I might lose it. For now, I had to fight like the rest of them.

So, fighting with a sword it was. I lunged at the closest one but it blew flames at me. I rolled aside, still managing to slash with my sword and lop off part of the monster’s snout. I landed hard on my right shoulder, my hand spasaming from the pain and forcing me to drop Riptide.

The other bull was drawing closer.

Annabeth shouted, “Tyson, help him!”

“NO!” I roared. He was a baby.

Tyson wailed “Can’t—get—through!” as he tried his hardest to get past the border.

“I, Annabeth Chase, give you permission to enter camp!

Tyson was probably a five year old. Maybe six, at most. My mom didn’t know much but she prayed to her old boyfriend for answers since it was easier for him to answer her than me. My father would come instead and we needed someone in the know.

His age was all I could think about as he barreled towards me, yelling my name and diving between me and the bull. He reached out as if to shove it away.

It unleashed a nuclear firestorm.

“Tyson!” I screamed, the earth shaking beneath me with the force of it.

The blast swirled around him like a red tornado and I knew if he was dead, the bulls would go back to where they came from ruined.

But when the fire died, there he was. Completely unharmed. Even his clothes, thank the Gods. The bull must’ve been caught off guard, because before it could unleash a second blast, Tyson balled his fists and slammed them into the bull’s face. “BAD COW!”

Annabeth ran over to check on me, a canteen of nectar in her hands that she must have stashed in her backpack before she left her dad’s.

“The other bull?” I asked.

Clarisse was just finishing with it, the remains of her spear in it’s joints as it spun in circles. She pulled off her helmet, catching sight of us quickly and marched toward us.

“Clarisse,” Annabeth said, before anything could escalate,“you’ve got wounded campers.”

That stopped her in her tracks. No matter who they were, Clarisse cared more for the soldiers under her command than her own siblings. “I’ll be back,” she growled, and turned on her heel to storm away.

I checked over Tyson as best I could. “Mom is going to kill you when she finds out.”

Tyson looked down like he was embarrassed. “I am sorry. Came to help. Disobeyed you.”

“My fault,” Annabeth said. “I had no choice. I had to let Tyson cross the boundary line to save you. Otherwise, you would’ve died.”

“Let him cross the boundary line?’” I asked. “But—”

“Percy,” she said, “have you ever looked at Tyson closely? I mean … in the face. Ignore the Mist, and really look at him.”

I stared at her for a second before it finally hit me. I couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped me. “You think…?”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to know what he is.” Annabeth glanced at him with disgust, though a little less than before which was progress I guess. “I need you to look at him. Please.”

I shook my head. “What do you think I’m going to see? I know Tyson, I know who he is and you really need to stop treating him like…” I tried to come up with something to say that wouldn’t also make Tyson cry.

Tyson shuffled next to me and I reached out to pat his arm. “Your friend is upset. I do something wrong?”

“No, buddy, she’s just—”

“He’s a kyklopes, Percy! Why do you think he was able to survive the fire?” She sniffed. “He's a baby, by the looks of him. Probably why he couldn’t get past the boundary line as easily as the bulls. Tyson’s one of the homeless orphans.”

“One of?”

“They’re in almost all the big cities,” Annabeth said distastefully. “They’re…mistakes, Percy. Children of nature spirits and gods—well, one god in particular, usually. No one wants them. They get tossed aside. They grow up wild on the streets. I don’t know how this one found you, but he obviously likes you. We should take him to Chiron, let him decide what to do.”

“What do you mean, let him decide? Why wouldn’t Tyson be able to stay?” I decided to ignore how she was treating him for now, it would just get us nowhere and I needed answers.

Annbeth pressed her palms to her eyes for a second and huffed a breath before putting on her serious face. “Percy, he’s a mon—”

"I know, Annabeth!” I know interrupting is rude, but I refused to let her call my brother a monster. “I have always known Tyson wasn't human." I paused to rub my eyes, trying not to cry in frustration and exhaustion. "I know he’s a kyklopes. I’m not stupid.”

She took a step back like I’d slapped her. "But…" she said, “then why—”

Clarisse stomping back towards us interrupted whatever Annabeth was going to say. She wiped the soot off her forehead, glaring at me like even that was my fault. “Jackson, if you can stand, get up. We need to carry the wounded back to the Big House, let Tantalus know what’s happened.”

“Who?” I asked, feeling a twinge in my stomach but not much else. He must not have been important.

“The activities director,” Clarisse said impatiently.

Annabeth’s head snapped towards her in a fashion so similar to Nico, I was both concerned for her neck and wondering if she was more interesting than I originally thought. “Chiron is the activities director. And where’s Argus? He’s head of security. He should be here.”

Clarisse made a sour face. “Argus got fired. You two have been gone too long. Things are changing.”

“What happened?” I growled, trying to keep my temper in check as I grew frustrated with the lack of information.

”That happened,” Clarisse snapped. She pointed to Thalia’s tree.

When the daughter of justice had died, her father had for once attempted to do something good and turned her into a tree, housing what was left of her spirit and immortalized her sacrifice. Thalia’s spirit reinforced the magic borders of the camp, protecting it from monsters, just as she had protected her friends. The pine had been here ever since, strong and healthy.

But now, its needles were yellow. A huge pile of dead ones littered the base of the tree. And suddenly it hit me how sick everything smelled. The very land was making me dizzy, the air made my throat itchy, and the water was far too still.

Three feet off the ground, there was a puncture wound in the trunk oozing something sticky and dark green that dripped slowly onto the needles.

I wanted to vomit.

The magical borders were failing because Thalia’s tree was dying.

Someone had poisoned it. And I was pretty sure I knew who.

You know that feeling of dizziness that happens when you stand up too fast and the whole world tilts a little bit? The entirety of our walk through camp felt like like. Instead of playing basketball on the court by the Big House, counselors and satyrs were stockpiling weapons in the tool shed. Dryads armed with bows and arrows talked nervously at the edge of the woods. I could feel the naiads moving around the lake, as restless as the others.

We made our way to the Big House, I recognized a lot of kids from last summer. Nobody stopped to talk. Most just walked grimly past and carried on with their duties—running messages, toting swords to sharpen on the grinding wheels. The camp felt like a military school. And believe me, I know. I’ve been kicked out of a couple.

None of that mattered to Tyson.

My little brother was amazed by everything we walked by, constantly asking, “whasthat?!” so fast his words slurred. Growing up on the streets of Manhattan, the most grass he’d ever seen was Central Park. It wasn’t a surprise he was so fascinated with the pegasi, or the cabins. He looked at me in awe when I pointed to ours. “You … have a cabin? Do you live with friends in the cabin?”

“Not right now, but maybe you can stay with me. We’ll have to talk to Chiron about it, okay?” I could hear Annabeth suck in a breath next to me. I didn’t understand her problem. “He’s a kentaur and he helps run the camp. If he’s in the Big House, he might be in his wheelchair though. It’s magic.”

Tyson perked up. “Magic?”

I grinned. “Come on, just remember to ask nicely.”

When we got to the Big House, we found Chiron in his apartment, listening to his favorite 1960s lounge music while he packed his saddlebags. As soon as we saw him, Tyson froze.

“Pony!” he cried in total rapture. He’d been obsessed with horses ever since my mom had taken us to central park during winter break. Most of them were pretty skittish around him, but for some reason one of the mares decided he was a foal and refused to leave him alone the entire time we were there. The police officer on her back was hilariously confused.

Chiron turned, and his offended expression was almost as funny if I’m honest. “I beg your pardon?”

Annabeth ran up and hugged him. “Chiron, what’s happening? You’re not … leaving?” Her voice was shaky. Chiron was like a father to her, since her family situation was…tense, I guess you could say.

Chiron ruffled her hair, the only one who could do so without losing a hand, and gave her the kind of smile my mom gave Tyson. “Hello, child. And Percy, my goodness. You’ve grown over the year!”

Why did adults always say that? I swallowed that thought down. “Clarisse said you were … you were …”

Chiron quickly explained what had occurred as best he could, packing up his things as he talked. He sighed, “some in Olympus do not trust me now, under the circumstances.”

“What circumstances?” I asked.

Chiron’s face darkened and he turned away from us, turning off his boombox.

Tyson was still staring at Chiron in amazement, shuffling again andreaching out a hand before pulling it back. “Pony?”

Chiron sniffed. “My dear young Cyclops! I am a kentaur. ”

“Chiron,” I said, trying to get his attention again. “What’s happening to the tree? How do we heal it?”

He shook his head sadly. “Thalia’s tree has been infected…some venom even I have never seen. It must have come from a monster quite deep in the pits of Tartarus, something old and too tired to try returning.”

“Then we know who’s responsible. The Crooked-One.”

“Do not speak of him, not here. Not now.”

“But last summer he tried to cause a civil war in Olympus! This has to be his idea. He’d get Luke to do it, you have to know that.”

“Perhaps,” Chiron said. “But I fear I am being held responsible because I did not prevent it and I cannot cure it. Lord Zeus still refuses to acknowledge that the titan lord may be rising and so…The tree has only a few weeks of life left.” He went to say something but stopped himself.

“What? What were you thinking?” Annabeth asked.

“No,” Chiron said softly, shaking his head. “A foolish thought. The whole valley is feeling the shock of the poison. The magical borders are deteriorating. The camp itself is dying. Only one source of magic would be strong enough to reverse the poison, and it was lost centuries ago.”

“What is it?” I asked. “We’ll go find it!”

Chiron closed his saddlebag. He pressed the stop button on his boom box. Then he turned and rested his hand on my shoulder, looking me straight in the eyes. “Percy, you must promise me that you will not act rashly. I told your mother I did not want you to come here at all this summer. It’s much too dangerous.”

“Why?”

He ignored me. Typical of adults. “But now that you are here, stay here. Train hard. Learn to fight. But do not leave.”

“Why?” I asked again. “I want to do something! I can’t just let the borders fail. The whole camp will be—”

“Overrun by monsters,” Chiron said. “Yes, I fear so. But you must not let yourself be baited into hasty action! This could be a trap of the titan lord. Remember last summer! He almost took your life.”

“Luke was the one here. Wherever the titan lord is, he’s still licking his wounds and letting others do his dirty work.” I went to say something else but then I saw Annabeth’s face and clicked my jaw shut.

She was trying hard not to cry.

I felt like shit for mentioning Luke.

Chiron brushed a tear from her cheek. “Stay with Percy, child,” he told her. “Keep him safe.”

“Hey! I do fine,” I protested, but neither of them looked at me.

“Chiron …” Annabeth said. “You told me the gods made you immortal only so long as you were needed to train heroes. If they dismiss you from camp—” Her eyes teared up and I could practically feel her panic at the thought.

“Swear you will do your best to keep Percy from danger,” he insisted instead of answering her very reasonable question. “Swear upon the River Styx.”

My mind blanked. One moment I was next to Chiron, and then suddenly I was between him and Annabeth, half crouched as a mix between a hiss and a growl came from my throat like it didn’t know how human it wanted to be.

The power behind those words, that demand—I finally understood what it might feel like for a human to fall to the bottom of the ocean. The very air around us was heavier than a building, both gone from beneath my feet and crushing me from all sides.

Asking anyone to swear that was a threat. And Annabeth, Annabeth was mine. Mine to protect, my friend. To demand she keep me from danger was like asking her to take my place and I would rather die.

“Percy?” She wasn’t scared. Confused, maybe.

Chiron was watching me with the skittishness of an animal facing an unknown predator. So at least he wasn’t confused. He might not know what I was, he was far too young for that, but he was at least starting to understand I wasn’t just a son of the Sea God. “Very well,” he said. “Please keep an eye on each other in my absence. I go to visit my wild kinsmen in the Everglades. It’s possible they know of some cure for the poisoned tree that I have forgotten. In any event, I will stay in exile until this matter is resolved—” He glanced towards me and his legs shuffled slightly, his tail swishing faster. “—one way or another.”

Annabeth took this change in conversation as well as she could. She put a hand over her mouth to pretend she wasn’t sobbing.

Chiron patted her shoulder awkwardly and I never related to him more. What do you do when girls cry? I can’t just give her a peanut butter sandwich, right? “There, now, child. I must entrust your safety to Mr. D and the new activities director. Perhaps they won’t destroy the camp quite as quickly as I fear.”

A conch horn blew across the valley. It was time for the campers to assemble for dinner—and for Chiron to leave.

He sighed as he looked out the window for a second, dramatic to the end, and then turned back to us. “I will contact your mother, Percy, and let her know you’re safe. No doubt she’ll be worried by now. Just remember my warning! You are in grave danger.”

When aren’t I? I thought saltily.

Tyson called after him as he moved down the hall, “Pony! Don’t go!”

I realized I’d forgotten to tell Chiron about my dream of Grover. I wanted to rip my hair out in frustration, nothing was like it was supposed to be!

Tyson started bawling almost as bad as Annabeth. I tried to tell them that things would be okay, but I didn’t believe it. I really wished I had some peanut butter.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #feral percy #all apart of something's game

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

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All Apart of Something's Game

Chapter One: My Best Friend Gets A Shopping Trip and I Get Dodge-ball

The new school year started off with a big surprise. First off, the classes at my new school weren’t actually too bad since Meriweather had this whole “alternative” view on academia which meant we didn’t have desks or tests or grades, and our teachers chilled with us on bean bags while wearing jeans and rock t-shirts.

They also were much more accommodating with my ADHD and dyslexia, recording classes so I could review lessons and making the learning active so I was able to focus easier. On the first day, my music teacher had us all come up with a beat that everyone had to try and copy. Then for the rest of class, if someone started tapping or making noise, everyone had to copy and the last person to do so was ‘it’ next.

The biggest thing, though, was about a week into the school year when they held an assembly in the gym. The mats were spread out all over the floor mixed in with bean bags so some kids were napping while we waited for teachers.

“What’s up Meriweather!” Our headmaster, Mr. Bonsai, said cheerfully as he looked over all of us, not phased in the slightest by the literal snoring coming from by the locker rooms. “As part of our efforts to give you all the best chance we can, we’ve decided to invite a new student to school this year. He’s had it rough growing up, but I’m sure all of you will give him a warm welcome.” He waved someone forward from the gym doors. “This is Tyson.”

Now I had been working on hiding some of my more…animalistic features. My mom wasn’t exactly happy with how much I had let it slip without her there and my senses were starting to get overwhelming. I mean, school locker rooms? In middle school? Yeah. But even with my slightly dampened powers, I clocked my half-brother the second he stepped out of the shadows.

Tyson, as they called him, stood out immediately. He had six inches over even the tallest of the classes, even standing over some of the teachers, and was built like the Abominable Snowman. The ground cushioned his feet when he walked, causing the wood to creak. And under the stench of New York alley-way, he smelled like salt and metal and the air before a storm. His shaggy hair covered his face as he shuffled over to the headmaster, led by two teachers.

“Thank you for joining us!” Mr. Bonsai was still smiling, even if he looked like he would gag any second. “Say hello to your new classmates.”

“Heh-low,” Tyson’s voice boomed despite sounding like a toddler trying out words for the first time.

To cut a long story short, I took him home with me.

My mom was gone for one of her writing workshops, so we had time to kill when we got back to the apartment.

“What do you want to eat, big guy?” I was willing to make anything, since I’d shared my lunch with him already and both of us were probably starving. Why Meriweather thought a homeless kid would be able to bring his own lunch was beyond me. “There’s some leftovers from dinner last night if you want some.”

Tyson shrugged and dragged his socks across the rug from the hallway. His toes peeked through the holes. “Peanut butter?”

“Yeah, we got peanut butter.” Since he wasn’t very talkative, I figured it would be safe to toast some bread and give him a sandwich instead of trying to figure out something else. And since he didn’t want any, I heated up the fish for myself. I got us both glasses of water and set everything down at the table. “We gotta wash our hands first.”

Tyson watched me do it before trying himself, though he looked at the bottle of soap like he’d never seen it before. Maybe he hadn’t. “Slimy.”

Eventually, once his skin was free of any visible dirt and the water ran clear, we sat down to eat. I didn’t bother with table manners, since I didn’t want Tyson to feel bad if he didn’t have any. And my mom wasn’t there to make me act nice. We both scarfed down our food in a few minutes and I had to get Tyson some milk to get the peanut butter to stop sticking in his mouth.

“Percy?” My mom called as she unlocked the front door.

“Give me a second, big guy,” I told Tyson before running over to see my mom. Finally, an adult! “Your idiot ex-boyfriend has another kid and he’s here and I don’t know how to explain all this to him because what if Uncle gets mad about it?”

My mom raised her eyebrows. Of course when I referred to my dad, I called him such, but it was much more fun to call the God of the Seas her ex-boyfriend if we were talking about him. Especially since my mom got exasperated with me every time. “He did what now?”

“He’s in the kitchen.”

My mom peeked around the corner, startling when she caught sight of Tyson who sort of waved at her before going back to looking at his plate quietly. “Percy. Percy, your new friend isn’t like you.”

“What do you mean? He smells like dad though.”

“Baby, I need you to really look at him. I need you to look him in the eye.”

Oh.

Tyson didn’t really need the whole “the greek gods are alive and you’re their kid speech” but it took him a few minutes for it to sink in that we were brothers. He immediately started crying and reached out for a hug, which I couldn’t have said no to. It was like being looked up at by a puppy who wanted cuddles. Who says no to that?

While I got my ribs slightly crushed, he was much gentler with my mom. She didn’t seem fully on board with the idea of me adopting a circle-eyed half-brother until I asked if we could walk him home when he had to leave and she saw his refrigerator box.

“Nope,” was all she said before she grabbed both our hands and started dragging us back towards the apartment. Everyone seems to think I get it from my dad, but really I’m more like my mom if you think about it. She once told me the story of how he caught her attention, how other he seemed, standing there on the beach. She really had a soft spot for us monsters.

Tyson didn’t stay with us every night, he refused to. Apparently if he didn’t spend most of his nights there, he might lose his spot. I asked him once why he would need the alley when he had us and he just shrugged. “For when you gone.”

I tried to stick with him as much as possible in school. Once the other kids discovered he was a big softie, despite his massive strength and his scary looks, they made themselves feel good by trying to pick on him. I had to bare my teeth at more than one kid who looked at him wrong, and my reputation plummeted each time.

Let alone when the school bully decided to try slamming Tyson into the lockers, my reaction afterwards probably wasn’t the smartest. Matt Sloan wasn’t big or strong, but he acted like he was. He had shaggy black hair, and he always dressed in expensive but sloppy clothes, like he wanted everybody to see how little he cared about his family’s money but refused to actually lower himself enough to shop at a thrift store. And his nose was now permanently like that.

He left us alone for the most part throughout the rest of the year. Even if Tyson wouldn’t make him regret it, I would. Things were going great.

And then the nightmares started. At first it was just feelings of wildness, a buzz that would leave me in a haze instead of letting me sleep. That evolved into walking through barren wastelands, the feeling of despair crawling up my legs and pinning me to the floor. And the night before the last day of school, it came to a pitch.

I was standing on a deserted street in some little beach town in Miami. It was the middle of the night, with a storm blowing in as wind and rain ripped at the palm trees along the sidewalk. Pink and yellow stucco buildings lined the street, their windows boarded up.

I don’t know why I knew we were in Miami, I had never been. Of course it being Florida was pretty obvious, it looked like Florida in every TV show ever.

Then I heard hooves clattering against the pavement. I turned and saw my friend Grover running for his life. I hadn’t seen him since last July, when he set off alone on a dangerous quest—a quest no satyr had ever returned from.

I could smell his fear seeping from his pores, but also his determination. Whatever he was running from, he had found something. He must’ve just come from the beach. Wet sand was caked in his fur. He’d escaped from somewhere. He was trying to get away from…something.

And that something was down the street, lumbering towards him and swatting aside streetlamps as he went. I couldn’t catch his scent for some reason, was it the dream?

Grover stumbled, whimpering in fear. He muttered to himself, “Have to get away. Have to warn them!” He turned a corner only to find himself cornered. I hissed as I watched him try to figure out where to go, hating how I could feel his prey drive ramp up as it started to affect me too. He backed up into a store only for the door to swing open. The sign above the darkened display window read: ST. AUGUSTINE BRIDAL BOUTIQUE.

Grover dashed inside. He dove behind a rack of wedding dresses, trembling behind them as the monster's shadow drew closer. I couldn’t smell him. All I smelled was Grover, wet barnyard and wild winds.

The monster passed by the shop, pausing only for a second before moving on.

Silence except for the rain. Grover took a deep breath. Maybe the thing was gone.

Then lightning flashed. The entire front of the store exploded, and a monstrous voice bellowed: “MIIIIINE!”

I sat bolt upright, shivering in my bed. There was no storm here but I could still feel the edges of it to the south, my connection to it slipping away every time I blinked the sleep out of my eyes. There was no monster here either.

I thought I saw a shadow flicker across the glass—a humanlike shape. But then there was a knock on my bedroom door—my mom called: “Percy, you’re going to be late”—and the shadow at the window disappeared.

It must’ve been my imagination. If anything was out there, I would have been able to tell. Besides, it was far too small to be the monster from my dreams anyway.

“Come on, Percy,” my mom called again, “I’m putting the waffles on the table!”

“Coming,” I answered. “Don’t let Tyson start without me!” I got dressed as quickly as I could, letting my more easy fear of Tyson eating all the waffles take over the lingering unease of my nightmare. Before I left my room, though, I made a three-fingered claw over my heart and pushed it outward—an ancient gesture Grover had once taught me for warding off evil.

Whatever the dream had been, I couldn’t do anything about it without help from camp. Chiron would know what to do. And to get to camp, I had to get through my last day of school. For the first time in my life, I’d almost made it an entire year without getting expelled. No weird accidents. No fights (in the classrooms). No teachers turning into monsters and trying to kill me with poisoned cafeteria food or exploding homework.

Tyson was a surprise, but a good one. Afterall, he was waiting patiently at the table for me so we could dig into breakfast.

My mom made blue waffles and blue eggs, a leftover of my old stepfather who told us blue food wasn’t a thing. I think it’s her way of saying anything is possible. Percy can pass seventh grade. Waffles can be blue. Little miracles like that.

As soon as I sat down at the kitchen table, me and Tyson started digging into our plates while my mom washed dishes in the sink. She was dressed in her work uniform—a starry blue skirt and a red-and-white striped blouse she wore to sell candy at Sweet on America. Her long brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

The waffles tasted great, but I guess I wasn’t digging in like I usually did. My mom looked over and frowned. “Percy, are you all right?”

“Yeah … fine.”

“Liar,” Tyson huffed into his food and I kicked his shin under the table. “Heard your nightmare.”

Apparently, circle-eyes had really good hearing. Great when I wanted to know if anyone was in the locker room before we got there, but it sucked as Tyson knew things I’d really rather he didn’t. Especially because he decided my mom should know everything.

Then again, she could always tell when something was bothering me anyway. She dried her hands and sat down across from me. “School, or …”

She didn’t need to finish. I knew what she was asking.

“I think Grover’s in trouble,” I said, and I told them about my dream.

“I wouldn’t be too worried, dear,” she said. “Grover is a big satyr now. If there were a problem, I’m sure we would’ve heard from … from camp… .” Her shoulders tensed as she said the word camp.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she said. “I’ll tell you what. This afternoon we’ll celebrate the end of school. I’ll take you and Tyson to Rockefeller Center—to that skateboard shop you like.”

Tyson perked up but he was still eyeing my mom with a weird expression.

I frowned at her but kept my mouth shut. We were supposed to be packing up for camp tonight, but neither of us liked talking about it in front of Tyson because he tended to cry about me leaving. I was tempted to ask anyway, but just then the kitchen clock chimed the half-hour.

My mom looked almost relieved. “Seven-thirty, dear. You two should go, can’t be late for your train.”

“But—”

“Percy, we’ll talk this afternoon. Go on to school.”

Tyson and I grabbed our backpacks, both giving my mom a hug before we left. Tyson was much happier to accept her fixing his collar than I was, which made me shift uncomfortably.

“Bye, Sally.” The way Tyson said it, it was like he thought he would never see her again.

I had to keep myself from hissing in frustration because I was sure Tyson would take it the wrong way.

As we stepped outside, I glanced at the brownstone building across the street. Just for a second I saw a dark shape in the morning sunlight—a human silhouette against the brick wall, a shadow that belonged to no one.

Then it rippled and vanished.

The back of my head itched like someone was watching me, but I couldn’t smell anything out of the ordinary. Tyson seemed to sense something was up too because he kept looking around until we got to school and stuck pretty close to me. He would have stuck close anyway though, so I’m not sure it meant anything.

I tried to shove aside the feeling and let the anticipation keep me going. I only had four more exams to get through, since we had done half of them the day before, and then there was nothing anyone could do to expel me.

Though this last day was going to be the hardest to get through by far. Take my first class today: English. The whole middle school had read (or listened to in my case) this book called Lord of the Flies, where all these kids get marooned on an island and go psycho. So for our final exam, our teachers sent us into the break yard to spend an hour with no adult supervision to see what would happen.

I know. The teachers at Meriweather liked to think the best of us which was great for my learning, but ended up with situations like the wedgie contest Sloan was doing with his friends and the full tackle basketball the eighth graders were playing.

If I didn’t have to watch Tyson, I might have joined them because it honestly looked really fun since the ref was Naomi Quinn. If someone turned my mother back into an eighth grader, I’m pretty sure they’d be the exact same. Though Naomi might be a little more feral.

She apparently thought I was cute, like a puppy or something, and would ruffle my hair whenever she heard me growl at someone, which I really wasn’t sure what to do with. Not to mention Sloan was terrified of her since she had kicked him between the legs so hard he passed out once. I didn’t see what started it and she’d simply shrugged when I asked. “Probably best not to tell you, little shark,” she’d said. “You might eat him.” Though she seemed to find the idea amusing.

Naomi had one of her friends in a headlock, which was impressive considering he was the tallest of the older kids and she was only 5 feet, when she saw me watching. She raised her free hand to wave, grinning.

I felt my cheeks heat up and turned away to find Tyson. My mind blanked as I saw Sloan heading for Tyson, some new kids hanging back behind him and snickering. I rushed forward to get between them, but I was too late.

Sloan snuck up behind him and tried to give him a wedgie, and Tyson panicked. He swatted Sloan away a little too hard. Sloan flew fifteen feet and got tangled in the little kids’ tire swing.

Shit, I thought and skidded to a halt next to my half brother.

“You freak!” Sloan yelled. “Why don’t you go back to your cardboard box!”

Tyson started sobbing and plopped down on the ground hard enough to shake the playground.

I growled lowly and tried to launch myself towards the bully, ready to tear his throat out with my teeth. I could take a lot of shit from people, but messing with Tyson was off limits and he had been warned. Just because he got a few new friends didn’t mean I wouldn’t bathe in his blood.

“No,” Tyson said through his sobs and grabbed my arm gently. Despite trying my best to keep up with an exercise routine this year, I would have had to be Superman to break even the lightest grip Tyson could do. “Not worth it.”

“Yeah Jackson,” Sloan sneered as the other boys helped pull him out of tire swing. “You’re not worth it.” He and his big ugly friends started laughing. “Just wait till PE, Jackson,” he called when he caught his breath. “You are so dead.”

I tried lunging for him again but Tyson forced me to sit next to him. “I … I am a freak?” he asked me.

“No,” I promised, gritting my teeth. “Matt Sloan is the freak.”

Tyson sniffled. “You are a good brother. Will miss you when you leave.”

“Don’t worry, big guy,” I managed. “Everything’s going to be fine.” He looked like he was going to start crying again so I blurted out the first thing I thought of. “I think mom packed you an extra peanut butter sandwich for lunch to celebrate the last day!”

He sniffled but at least he didn’t start crying again.

Naomi came over once the game was wrapping up and gave Tyson a quick hug. “Sloan thinks he’s important because this is as good as his life is going to get. Just ignore him.” She reached out to ruffle my hair like usual but I hissed at her. I really wasn’t in the mood. She pulled her hand back but didn’t seem offended. “Good luck boys,” she said as she wandered back to her friends.

Tyson looked over at them. “She’s nice.”

“She’s weird,” I agreed and Tyson sighed.

When first period ended, our English teacher, Mr. de Milo, came outside to inspect the carnage. He pronounced that we’d understood Lord of the Flies perfectly. We all passed his course, and we should never, never grow up to be violent people. He might have had a point. We were all already violent.

Our next exam was science. Mrs. Tesla usually had us mixing things like oobleck and doing experiments on what properties it had, so I was sort of excited to see what she was going to let us play with. Instead of the normal set up we had with our ingredients measured and laid out for us, we had a selection of the chemicals and other things we’d been allowed to use throughout the school year displayed at each of our tables.

“Good morning class!” Mrs. Tesla, for once, had her giant mane of hair thrown up into a large bun and the scarf she usually wore, which was from some old british scifi show, was nowhere to be seen. Even her octagonal glasses were replaced by a pair of safety goggles. “Since throughout the year we’ve been talking about making new materials and their properties, I decided I wanted to see how much you actually remembered about each chemical and ingredient we worked with.”

Everyone in the class seemed to shift at once, thinking maybe we were going to get our first written exam of the school year.

“Today, you will need to wear all of the safety gear we’ve been using. Everyone come get a face mask, a pair of goggles, a pair of gloves, and a lab coat. Make sure you are wearing everything because I will be coming around to check!” Her eyes swept over the other students as we all did as told, confused about the change in our teacher. We shouldn’t have worried though because once she was sure we were all safe, she clapped her own gloved hands together and giggled. “Now to have fun!”

Apparently we had to mix chemicals until we succeeded in making something explode, though hopefully like a science fair volcano instead of anything dangerous. That was our exam.

Tyson was my lab partner. His hands were way too big for the tiny vials we were supposed to use. He accidentally knocked a tray of chemicals off the counter and made an orange mushroom cloud in the trash can.

After Mrs. Tesla evacuated the lab and called the hazardous waste removal squad, she praised Tyson and me for being natural chemists. We were the first ones who’d ever aced her exam in under thirty seconds.

“You two are dismissed and can hang out in the cafeteria with anyone else whose out of class. The rest of you will come with me to the other lab!” She bounced on her toes as she went, clearly excited by it all.

Tyson and I ended up at a table by ourselves playing Mythomagic, a card game my cousin Nico had gotten me into during the few visits we were allowed. Apparently their stepmother really enjoyed my mom’s company and felt like she was a safe person for them to be with, though she usually stuck around to ward off monsters.

I wasn’t really all that invested though since I couldn’t get rid of the itchy feeling on my head and my thoughts kept shifting to Grover and how my mom was hiding something. Did something happen at camp? Why wasn’t I packing to leave when I got home?

Eventually it was time for social studies where we were drawing latitude/longitude maps. It was one of the easiest exercises we’d ever done, at least for me. I ended up turning my sheet in early and asking if I could draw something else which my teachet said was fine.

Instead, I ended up I opening my notebook and just stared at the photo inside—my friend Annabeth on vacation in Washington, D.C. She was wearing jeans and a denim jacket over her orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt. Her blond hair was pulled back in a bandanna. She was standing in front of the Lincoln Memorial with her arms crossed, looking extremely pleased with herself, like she’d personally designed the place.

I missed her. She would be able to help me figure out my dreams about Grover.

I was about to close my notebook when I saw a hand reaching for the picture out of the corner of my eye. I slammed my pencil down towards it, missing the fingers by centimeters and I growled at the culprit. Sloan. I really wished I had better aim. “Fuck off, dude.”

“What’s got your panties in a twist? Got something in there you don’t want anyone else to see?” He snickered and turned back to his buddy. “Don’t know where this guy would get a Playboy though, he can’t even read enough to know what the title says!”

His friends must have been new kids visiting, because they were all wearing those stupid HI! MY NAME IS: tags from the admissions office. They must’ve had a weird sense of humor, too, because they’d all filled in strange names like: MARROW SUCKER, SKULL EATER, and JOE BOB.

I narrowed my eyes at them but I couldn’t pick out their scent in all the teenagers that were spread throughout the room. If they were monsters, they couldn’t be that strong.

“These guys are moving here next year,” Sloan bragged, like that was supposed to scare me. “Good thing I’m gonna put you out of your misery next period.”

The bell rang and I shrugged my bag over my shoulder. “Whatever, Sloan.” His threats weren’t that scary, the worst he could do was try to hit me and at that point it’s self defense. Chiron had tried to tell me I wasn’t allowed to hurt mortals under any circumstances, but my mom disagreed.

“You can’t start fights, baby,” she’d said and her grin was as sharp as mine. “But you can finish them.”

It was time for PE. Our coach had promised us a free-for-all dodgeball game, and Matt Sloan had promised to kill me. This was going to be fun.

The gym uniform at Meriwether is sky blue shorts and tie-dyed T-shirts. I changed as quickly as I could in the locker room because I wanted to get out there, but then Tyson caught my eye and I sighed. He hated changing out in the open. He’d been attacked when he was younger by a Spynx and the scars on his back were mad messy.

Most days I stood guard outside the weight room for him so he could get changed. I’d learned the hard way that if people teased Tyson while he was dressing out, he’d get upset and start ripping the doors off lockers. Not that I minded the damage, but the teachers thought I was a good influence on him and having teachers actually like me wasn’t something I was going to give up.

When we got inside the gym, Coach Nunley was sitting at his little desk reading Sports Illustrated. He reminded me of the Oracle at Camp Half-Blood—which was a shriveled-up mummy—except Coach Nunley moved a lot less and he never billowed green smoke. He gave me the creeps.

Matt Sloan immediately asked if we could be team captains together which got a yes out of the coach without him even looking up from his magazine. Sloan grinned and took charge of the picking. He made me the other team’s captain, but it wasn’t like it mattered when all the jocks and the popular kids moved over to Sloan’s side.

So did the big group of visitors.

Matt Sloan spilled a cage full of balls in the middle of the gym, before looking for the whistle to start the game.

“Scared,” Tyson mumbled. “Smell funny.”

I looked at him, confused. “What smells funny?” All I was getting was teenager sweat and a few other choice things around the school I really didn’t want to pay attention to.

“Them.” Tyson pointed at Sloan’s new friends. “Smell funny.”

Monsters, I thought. The visitors were cracking their knuckles, eyeing us like it was slaughter time. I grinned sharply at them and enjoyed the flicker of confusion on their faces. Riptide was in the locker room since I didn’t have pockets, but I had Tyson and my claws.

Mom wouldn’t like it, she was always nervous about me shifting away from dad’s domain. But in self defense? Oh, I could let loose.

Sloan blew the coach’s whistle and the game began. Sloan’s team ran for the center line, but I was the first one there. I didn’t look at what my team was doing, simply threw the ball as hard as I could at Matt in the middle of the monster pack and watched as he hit the floor with a satisfying thud.

“You wanna fight?” I asked as I tried not to bounce on the balls of my feet, my energy ramping up as I saw the realization in their eyes.

“Desperately, Perseus Jackson,” one of them said and then they were all growing in size. They were no longer kids. They were eight-foot-tall giants with wild eyes, pointy teeth, and hairy arms tattooed with snakes and hula women and Valentine hearts.

I let my form flicker for a second, just a second, to reveal what was underneath all my control and I laughed as a few of them actually went to take a step back. “Good.” It had been so long since I was allowed to let loose.

Tyson immediately started herding our teammates away from me and towards the doors. As Mom got more used to the idea of him being a Cirle-eyed One, we realized he was actually only five and she’d told him under no circumstances was he allowed to get into fights with me.

Matt Sloan groaned on the floor. When he lifted his head, he froze. “Whoa! You’re not from Detroit! Who …”

It finally seemed to click for the other kids on his team who started screaming and backing toward the exit, but the giant named Marrow Sucker threw a ball with deadly accuracy. Tyson smacked it away and held the door open.

“Stop them!” the one called Joe Bob growled at his friends. He had a tattoo on his biceps that said: JB luvs Babycakes. “We will not lose our tasty morsels. We Laistrygonians aren’t just playing for your death, Son of the Sea God. We want lunch!”

One of them broke off towards Tyson, but I had to hope he could handle himself. It’s not exactly like bringing all of their attention on my escaping classmates was a good idea.

Joe Bob waved his hand and a new batch of dodgeballs appeared on the center line—but these balls weren’t made of red rubber. They were bronze, the size of cannon balls, perforated like wiffle balls with fire bubbling out the holes.

The giant named Skull Eater threw his ball. I dove aside as the fiery bronze comet sailed past my shoulder.

“Are we done talking then? This fight was really starting to get boring,” I said and enjoyed how it made them roar. Lone hunters didn’t go after large prey by themselves. They waited for one of them to wander away from the pod, so by the time the others noticed it was too late for them to reach.

“No one leaves unless you’re out!” Joe Bob roared and I chanced a glance at the exit. Most of the kids were through, but the door seemed to be locked. Tyson was busy grappling with the giant that had tried to stop him. “And you’re not out until we eat you!”

Another fireball came streaking toward me. I dove out of the way but the explosion still blew me head over heels. I found myself sprawled on the gym floor, dazed from smoke, my tie-dyed T-shirt peppered with sizzling holes. Just across the center line, two hungry giants were glaring down at me.

“Flesh!” they bellowed. “Hero flesh for lunch!” They both took aim.

“Percy needs help!” Tyson yelled, and he jumped in front of me just as they threw their balls.

I don’t know where the other giant went.

Somehow Tyson, who was only five years old and had the coordination of a puppy with adult sized paws, had caught two fiery metal balls speeding toward him at a zillion miles an hour. He sent them hurtling back toward their surprised owners, who screamed, “BAAAAAD!” as the bronze spheres exploded against their chests.

The giants disintegrated in twin columns of flame.

“My brothers!” Joe Bob the Cannibal wailed. He flexed his muscles and his Babycakes tattoo rippled. “You will pay for their destruction!”

It was two on—I checked by the doors and grinned at the pile of ash over there, being kicked around by the kids trying to escape—three now. Much better odds.

“Tyson!” I warned.

Another comet hurtled toward us. Tyson just had time to swat it aside. It flew straight over Coach Nunley’s head and landed in the bleachers with a huge KA-BOOM!

“Victory will be ours!” roared Joe Bob the Cannibal. “We will feast on your bones!”

“You’re taking dodgeball way too seriously, man,” I said cheekily and he roared again. I think Tyson would have face palmed if he safely could.

Joe Bob and his remaining friends all picked up dodgeballs. I had to duck and roll again as one flew straight past me and into the locker room. The built-up gas in most boys’ locker rooms must have been enough to cause an explosion, because the flaming dodgeball ignited a huge WHOOOOOOOM!

The wall blew apart. Locker doors, socks, athletic supporters, and other various nasty personal belongings rained all over the gym.

I turned just in time to see Tyson punch Skull Eater in the face. The giant crumpled next to a matching pile of ash. But the last giant, Joe Bob, had wisely held on to his own ball, waiting for an opportunity. He threw just as Tyson was turning to face him.

“No!” I yelled.

The ball caught Tyson square in the chest. He slid the length of the court and slammed into the back wall, which cracked and partially crumbled on top of him, making a hole right onto Church Street. The bronze ball was smoking at his feet. Tyson tried to pick it up, but he fell back, stunned, into a pile of cinder blocks.

“Well!” Joe Bob gloated. “I’m the last one standing! I’ll have enough meat to bring Babycakes a doggie bag!”

He picked up another ball and aimed it at Tyson.

My vision blurred.

Here’s the thing about siblings that I was slowly starting to learn. Half the time you want to kill them, the other half of the time you wish you never had a sibling. But the second anyone else threatens them, you would kill to protect them.

I don’t know if I held back the changes or if I went full monster, but all I know is I was slicing through the giants calf, dodging the ball he threw my way despite the burn I could feel forming on my shoulder.

Joe Bob laughed even as he dripped ash and fire all over the floor. “You are funny, little demigod. You will go down nicely.”

Suddenly the giant’s body went rigid. His expression changed from gloating to surprise.

Right where his belly button should’ve been, his T-shirt ripped open and he grew something like a horn—no, not a horn—the glowing tip of a blade.

The ball dropped out of his hand. The monster stared down at the knife that had just run him through from behind.

He muttered, “Ow,” and burst into a cloud of green flame, which I figured was going to make Babycakes pretty upset.

Standing in the smoke was Annabeth. Her face was grimy and scratched. She had a ragged backpack slung over her shoulder, her baseball cap tucked in her pocket, a bronze knife in her hand, and a wild look in her storm-gray eyes, like she’d just been chased a thousand miles by ghosts. She smelled like alleyway and sewer, golden dust crusted in parts of her hair.

Matt Sloan, who’d been sitting there dumbfounded the whole time, finally came to his senses. He blinked at Annabeth, as if he dimly recognized her from my notebook picture. He stood up, pointing at her. “That’s the girl … That’s the girl—”

Annabeth punched him in the nose and knocked him flat. “And you,” she told him, “lay off my friend.”

I beamed at her when I realized Matt was out cold. So fucking satisfying. “Hey, you made it to the party!”

“I’ve been here all day, Seaweed brain,” she argued with a roll of her eyes but her smile was genuine. “I’ve been trying to find a good time to talk to you, but you were never alone.”

I paused my search around the chaos of the gym to snap my head around to look at her. “What do you mean all day? I didn’t sense you, you couldn’t have been…” My eyes snapped to her yankee’s cap. “The shadow I saw this morning—that was—” My face felt hot. “Oh my gods, you were looking in my bedroom window?”

“There’s no time to explain!” she snapped, though she looked a little red-faced herself and her scent turned sour with embarrassment and something else I couldn’t identify. “I just didn’t want to—”

The doors to the gym slammed open finally as the headmaster, a collection of teachers, and some police officers started pouring in.

Annabeth looked like she was going to bolt but I grabbed her hand. “Let go of me. I need to get out of here, you two.” She paused and pointed to Tyson, who was still sitting dazed against the wall. Annabeth gave him a look of distaste that I didn’t quite understand. Did she know what he was? “You’d better bring him.”

“What do I do?”

“Improvise!” she hissed as she slammed her yankee’s cap on her head and vanished. I stopped being able to even feel her.

That left me alone in the middle of a flamming gym looking like a bunch of kids had thrown moltov cocktails (wouldn’t have been the first time) and…wait.

“Percy Jackson?” Mr. Bonsai said when he reached me. “What … how …”

Over by the broken wall, Tyson groaned and stood up from the pile of cinder blocks. “Head hurts.”

Matt Sloan was starting to come around, but I wasn’t going to let him blame this on me. Even if he didn’t know, he’d let those giants into our school and he’d led them straight to Tyson and me.

I summoned tears like an expert and immediately started trying to wipe them away like I didn’t want the headmaster to see. “The…the new kids…they…”

Mr. Bonsai bent a knee to get more at my eye level and I hated how much like a kid it made me feel but it meant the adults were looking less like they wanted me arrested so… “What happened?”

“They trashed the place! Sloan said they were his friends but then when we tried playing dodgeball they got really mean and started throwing the balls at everyone really hard and then they grabbed their bags and they had moltov cocktails! I think they were part of a gang!”

Sloan started shaking his head, turning red in the face. “That’s not true!”

Tyson started crying at the perfect moment.

“We’ll talk about this more later,” Mr. Bonsai promised. “If you can find your clothes, we’ll get you to one of the ambulances.”

I didn’t even realize they could see the burn on my shoulder but I just nodded obediently and snagged my jeans off the floor, happy to have Riptide back.

Sloan lunged at me. “You liar!”

I dodged quickly, letting fear seep into my expression. I reached for Tyson, grabbing his arm before bolting for the gaping hole in the side of the building.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #feral percy #all apart of something's game

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

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Something This Way Comes

Chapter Fifteen: All My Choices Are Horrible

I knew it was going to be a big deal for us to come back successful, but with everything else happening I forgot that we would be the first questers to return alive to Half-Blood Hill since Luke. Despite Annabeth and Grover returning before me, it wasn’t until I got there that the party really started.

According to camp tradition, we wore laurel wreaths to a big feast prepared in our honor, then led a procession down to the bonfire, where we got to burn the burial shrouds our cabins had made for us in our absence.

Annabeth's shroud was so beautiful—gray silk with embroidered owls. Her siblings had made it themselves, even the fabric had been woven by her oldest sister still at camp.

“It’s a same you won’t get burned in it,” I told her, worried she wouldn’t understand.

“Shut up, Seaweed Brain.” She punched my arm, but her grin told me she got it. When she caught sight of my shroud on the other hand, she wrinkled her nose. “I’m glad we aren’t burning you in that, it would be a waste of good wood.”

I really couldn’t disagree. Being the son of Poseidon, I didn't have any cabin mates, so the Ares cabin had volunteered to make my shroud. I wasn’t really sure what I was looking at since it seemed like the War God’s cabin couldn’t agree if they were mad at me or not. The color scheme was on point, with a sort of tie dyed mix of blues and greens, but it was on an old fitted sheet and someone had written LOSER in bubble letters.

It was fun to burn.

Then it was normal camp activities, like the Apollo cabin sing-along with smores. The entire Hermes cabin surrounded me as if nothing had happened, as if they didn’t abandon me the second my “parentage” came to light. But some of Annabeth’s siblings and Grover’s satyr buddies came over to hang out with us as well.

Grover was beaming as the center of attention, the rest of the satyr’s were admiring the brand-new searcher's license he'd received from the Council of Cloven Elders. “They called me brave, can you believe it? I was just keeping those two alive, that was terrifying!”

“OI! Who hit Medusa in the face with a club? I’d say that’s pretty brave.” No one was allowed to discount my satyr, not even Grover himself.

All his sputtering protests did was draw Annabeth’s attention, as she budged in with her own retellings of how Grover had been amazing and brave on our quest. And tghen I started telling her siblings about how she got us “maximum lift” in Waterland and almost splattered us over the waterpark, which made her blush and steal my s’more.

The only ones not in the party mood were Clarisse and a few of her cabinmates, whose poisonous

looks told me they'd never forgive me for beating their dad in a fight.

While having people hate me always sucked, it wasn’t like it was anything new. What was new though, was having friends. Like, more than just Grover. I moved back into cabin three, but it didn't feel so lonely anymore. I had Annabeth and some of the other campers to train with during the day. At night, I lay awake and listened to the sea, knowing it would welcome me when I was ready.

I missed my cousins though, and it always hit me at night when I was laying there in the dark that I didn’t know what happened to them. None of my Iris-Messages were going through and now that I had returned to camp, I wasn’t allowed to leave again unless I was headed back to my mom.

As for my mother, she had a chance at a new life. Her letter arrived a week after I got back to camp. Using the gift I had left her, she removed Gabe from her apartment and made sure he wouldn’t be coming back. Though it appears he’s gone missing, so she gave a statement to the police. Her letters might be flown to us by Hermes express, but I figured she wanted to be more safe than sorry. “Your Uncle and Sister have been more than kind enough to take in that stray we found. They’ll make sure he gets what he deserves.”

On an unrelated note, she'd sold her first life-size concrete sculpture, entitled The Poker Player, to a collector, through an art gallery in Soho. She'd gotten so much money for it, she'd put a deposit down on a new apartment and made a payment on her first semester's tuition at NYU. The Soho gallery was clamoring for more of her work, which they called "a huge step forward in super-ugly neorealism." I don’t think I will be making any more statues, she wrote, but it’s always smart to keep tools on hand. I’ve given them to a Friend for safe keeping if I ever need them again.

She told me she would understand if I chose to live at camp year round, considering who your father is, but that there was always a place for me with her.

I folded the note carefully and set it on my bedside table. Every night before I went to sleep, I read it again, and I tried to decide how to answer her. Did I stay here where I could train? Did I return home to one of the few people I would burn the world for? Could I leave Annabeth and Grover like that?

Did I choose blood over whatever these invisible strings pulling me towards my new people were?

It was easier to think about staying when I was in the training arena with Annabeth, her knife against Riptide, or her showing me wrestling moves in case I ever slipped up and got too close to Clarisse. The more we practiced, the more I started being even with her. I was nowhere close to her skill level, but I was starting to learn her tells and I could sometimes use them to my advantage.

She never let me use the same move twice though.

It was easier to accept staying inside the barriers of camp when she was shoving me off the dock when we said we were going to go swimming, when I could reach out and pull her in with me and I could hear Grover laughing from shore. He got wet in the ensuing splash war, but then again we were all out of breath at that point and grinning so I don’t think he was too upset about it.

It was easier to connect with my new home when I was on the sand with Grover as he helped me learn some basic weavng with the Neireds, or when we helped clean up the forest with the dryads.

But I still couldn’t choose.

On the Fourth of July, the whole camp gathered at the beach for a fireworks display by cabin nine. Being Hephaestus's kids, they weren't going to settle for a few lame red-white-and-blue explosions. They'd anchored a barge offshore and loaded it with rockets the size of Patriot missiles. According to Annabeth, who'd seen the show before, the blasts would be sequenced so tightly they'd look like frames of animation across the sky. The finale was supposed to be a couple of hundred-foot-tall Spartan warriors who would crackle to life above the ocean, fight a battle, then explode into a million colors.

I had seen over the past few weeks a lot of the older gets get all blushy and gross over who they were going to watch them with, but Luke had told me most people just went with their friends. I didn’t even have to ask Annabeth, she just told me to carry the picnic blanket while she got the snacks.

Grover was starting to smell of the Wild, of something animalistic and older. The Cloven Council were like a stale version of all the younger Satyrs, the ones who were searching. Some came back to help with half-bloods, taking breaks from the dangers. Others gave up, and they were the worst. But he made something inside me ache for an old friend I knew nothing about.

"I'm off," he said. "I just came to say ... well, you know." He shuffled awkwardly in the sand.

Annabeth gave him a hug. “Keep your feet on, you don’t want any mortals getting in your way.” She kept asking him questions about if he had everything, what his plan was, until she finally stopped when he put his hands on her shoulders.

“You are an old mama goat in disguise,” he teased. But he didn't really sound annoyed. He gripped his walking stick and slung a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like any hitchhiker you might see on an American highway—nothing like the little runty boy I used to defend from bullies at Yancy Academy. He looked…almost like an adult. "Well," he said, "wish me luck."

He gave Annabeth another hug. He clapped me on the shoulder, then headed back through the dunes.

Fireworks exploded to life overhead: Hercules killing the Nemean lion, Artemis chasing the boar, George Washington (who, by the way, was a son of Athena) crossing the Delaware.

"Hey, Grover," I called, as my fingers itched and my gums felt sore.

He turned at the edge of the woods.

"Be careful of traps. You’ve got a good nose, trust it.” I paused, knowing I didn’t want those to be the last words I said to him so I smiled broadly. “And wherever you're going—I hope they make good enchiladas."

Grover grinned, and then he was gone, the trees closing around him.

"We'll see him again," Annabeth said.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

We have to, went unsaid.

I spent my days devising new strategies for capture-the-flag and making alliances with the other cabins to keep the banner out of the War Children's hands. I got to the top of the climbing wall for the first time without getting scorched by lava.

At one point I woke up to a stuffed animal in my arms that I definitely hadn't owned before, Gabe wasn't big on toys and most boys I had roomed with before would have torn apart anything “kiddy” I brought with me to school anyway.

It took me a minute of blinking at it to realize that it was a dog, a three headed dog to be exact, and it smelled like dark soil and pomegranates. I decided to make an executive decision that Cabin Three would skip Arts and Crafts that morning for a lie in, and I pressed my face into it as I drifted back to sleep.

From time to time, I'd walk past the Big House, glance up at the attic windows, and think about the Oracle. I tried to convince myself that it's prophecy had come to completion.

You shall go west, and face the god who has turned.

Been there, done that—even though it came from a manipulated God of War instead of my Uncle as everyone feared.

You shall find what was stolen, and see it safely returned.

Check. One master bolt delivered. One helm of darkness returned to its rightful owner.

You shall be betrayed by one who calls you a friend.

This line was what truly bothered me about the whole thing. I could understand the last line just fine. And you shall fail to save what matters most, in the end, meaning my family. I was forced thrice over to leave them behind, once each when I only had three pearls. And then the third time when I walked away from Gabe without his throat in my teeth.

But no one who called me a friend had betrayed me. He Who Bears Arms didn’t claim my friendship, though He did manipulate me. But He was manipulated in turn.

Did it still count?

The last night of the summer session came all too quickly.

The campers had one last meal together, siblings saying goodbye while I sat alone. Would this be what it was like if I stayed? Or would it be better because there would be so few of us?

At the bonfire, the senior counselors awarded the end-of-summer beads. I got my own leather necklace, and when I saw the bead for my first summer, I was glad the firelight covered my bared teeth, or at least turned it into a smile. The design was pitch black, with a sea-green trident shimmering in the center.

"The choice was unanimous," Luke announced. "This bead commemorates the first Son of the Sea God at this camp, and the quest he undertook into the darkest part of the Underworld to stop a war!”

“But what about Annabeth and Grover? Where’s their part?” I go unheard over the cheering of the other campers, and I move to step forward, frustration building in my gut. I wouldn’t have survived without them, where is their recognition?

A hand on my arm stopped me and I relaxed into Annabeth’s hold even if it was light.

“It’s okay, you know, that we aren’t on the bead. We’ve already received our laurels.” She used her free hand to findle with her new bead. “It was your quest, Percy, and you led us home. You deserve the credit for this one.” She looks up to smile at me and I grin back, everything about her telling me she’s not lying or hiding. “Good work, hero.”

I was about to say something, I don’t know what though because she reached over and hugged me. A solid hug, with no life thrteatening dangers to be safe from.

I think my brain short circuited a little.

The next morning, I found a form letter on my bedside table. I knew Dionysus must've filled it out, because he stubbornly insisted on getting my name wrong:

Dear Peter Johnson,

If you intend to stay at CampHalf-Blood year-round, you must inform the Big House by noon today. If you do not announce your intentions, we will assume you have vacated your cabin or died a horrible death. Cleaning harpies will begin work at sundown. They will be authorized to eat any unregistered campers. All personal articles left behind will be incinerated in the lava pit.

Have a nice day!

Mr. D (Dionysus)

Camp Director, Olympian Council #12

That's another thing about ADHD. Deadlines just aren't real to me until I'm staring one in the face. Summer was over, and I still hadn't answered my mother, or the camp, about whether I'd be staying. Now I had only a few hours to decide.

Nine months of private school away from my mother, only coming home on holidays or free weekends if it was close enough, maybe looking for Nico and Bianca with my mom…or nine months of hero training with Annabeth, learning different dialects of Greek, swimming in the lake and not having to worry about anyone calling the cops on the weird kid swimming in December. I could make more friends, find some kids who might be like me and just are waiting in the shadows for the right moment.

I swear one of the Fruitbearer’s children withered the grass with her anger over one of the Stoll brother's pranks, turning it pitch black.

But I had to think so I decided I'd go down to the arena and do some sword practice. Maybe that would clear my head.

The campgrounds were mostly deserted, shimmering in the August heat. All the campers were in their cabins packing up, or running around with brooms and mops, getting ready for final inspection. Argus was helping some of the campers bfring their bags down to the camp shuttle, which would take them to the airport or station of their choosing.

Don't think about leaving yet, I told myself. Just train.

I got to the sword-fighters arena and immediately wanted to step away. My skin itched in the same way it did after a long day at the beach and sand had entered places it shouldn’t, the kind that you needed a hot shower to remove.

Whatever was in that arena, it was wrong.

And then I saw Luke. He was working solo, whaling on battle dummies with a sword I'd never seen before. It must've been a regular steel blade, because he was slashing the dummies' heads right off, stabbing through their straw-stuffed guts. Typically, the celestial bronze of our weapons took longer to affect mortal objects. The armor would clang, sure, but the first hundred or so swipies would pass right through the dummies.

They were only dummies, but I still couldn't help being a bit uneasy. Luke always seemed so calm and brotherly, at least on the outside. This side of him was…

He saw me, and stopped mid-swing. "Percy."

"Um, sorry," I said, embarrassed at being caught. "I just—"

"It's okay," he said, lowering his sword. "Just doing some last-minute practice." Now that his sword wasn't swirling around, I could see that there was something wrong with it. The blade was two different types of metal—one edge bronze, the other steel.

Being near it just made my skin itch worse.

Luke noticed me looking at it, and I hoped my expression was schooled enough that he didn’t realie I knew anything was wrong. "Oh, this? New toy. This is Backbiter."

"Why?"

Luke turned the blade in the light, not really seeming to hear me. "One side is celestial bronze. The other is tempered steel. Works on mortals and immortals both."

"I didn't know they would make weapons like that." As far as I knew, Chiron’s policy was non-violence against mortals. Even if a few of them deserved to be punched in the face.

"They probably can't," Luke agreed, his smile shifting away from his eyes and more into his teeth. I tensed at the threat. "It's one of a kind."He slid the sword into its scabbard and suddenly it was like the old Luke was back. He was still . "Listen, I was going to come looking for you. What do you say we go down to the woods one last time, look for something to fight?"

I don’t know why I wanted to go. Luke had always been one of Annabeth’s people, someone she’d try to get me to be friendly with and that I only really tolerated for her sake. And yet something was pushing me to go. "You think it's a good idea?" I asked, still hesitating.

"Aw, come on." He rummaged in his gym bag and pulled out a six-pack of Cokes. "Drinks are on me."

I stared at the Cokes, wondering where the heck he'd gotten them. I was not heavy into soda like a lot of other kids my age, but if there was one thing I couldn't resist it was a Coke. Cherry Coke and I might have actually drooled, but the regular stuff was enough to break the last of my resolve as is.

Maybe he just wanted to connect for Annabeth's sake, so when he came back next summer it wasn't as awkward. I could work with that.

"Sure," I decided. "Why not?"

We walked down to the woods and kicked around for some kind of monster to fight, but it was too hot. All the monsters with any sense must've been taking siestas in their nice cool caves. I could smell faint traces of them on some of the trails, but they hadn't been through for a long time.

We found a shady spot by the creek and sat on a big rock, drank our Cokes, and watched the sunlight in the woods.

It was actually sort of nice, sitting with someone in silence. I was curious where the naiads were, usually they liked quiet moments like this and would come say hi.

After a while Luke said, "You miss being on a quest?"

“With almost dying every ten minutes to a new kind of monster?” Without everyone judging me and faking being my friend? “Parts of it. At least now I know my mom's alive.”

A shadow passed over his face and I was forcefully reminded of the sandy feeling that I had been ignoring since the arena. I was tempted to look down at my arms, check to see if the skin was as rubbed raw as it felt.

"I've lived at Half-Blood Hill year-round since I was fourteen," he told me. And for a moment what he was saying reminded me of Annabeth wanting a quest so badly, to prove herself. Did camp not welcome him back? Did he not receive his laurels? And what about his questmates?

He crumpled his Coke can and threw it into the creek, rolling his eyes when I immediately reached down to grab it. “Don’t bother, Percy. The nymphs won’t be able to take their petty revenge on me.”

“You’re leaving.”

Luke gave me a twisted smile to which I bared my teeth. "Oh, I'm leaving, all right, Percy. I brought you down here to say good-bye."

He snapped his fingers. A small fire burned a hole in the ground at my feet. Out crawled something glistening black, about the size of my hand. A scorpion. "I wouldn't," Luke cautioned. "Pit scorpions can jump up to fifteen feet. Its stinger can pierce right through your clothes. You'll be dead in sixty seconds."

It hit me then what Luke had been trying to do all summer, what place he was trying to make for himself in my life. You will be betrayed by one who calls you a friend. Not who I call a friend, who called me one.

“Time to show your true colors then?”

He stood calmly and brushed off his jeans.

The scorpion paid him no attention. It kept its beady black eyes on me, clamping its pincers as it crawled onto my shoe.

"I saw a lot out there in the world, Percy," Luke said. "Didn't you feel it—the darkness gathering, the monsters growing stronger? I thought that you might have already been touched by it, you always were a bit different to the rest of us."

I snarled and let my facade drop, pleasure rolling through my shoulders as he actually took a step back away from me. The scorpion paused on my ankle. “You know nothing about me.”

“I might not, but my master does. He’s very interested in you, Percy, but I don’t think you’ll listen. You’ve never really been fooled, have you? I thought I was making progress but your face when you saw Backbiter…”

“The Crooked One got you in your dreams, is that it? He got you to steal the master bolt. Did he tell you to steal the helm too or did you come up with that on your own?”

Luke's eye twitched. "He spoke to you, too, Percy. You should've listened." And like any Disney Villan, he began his monolouge. Of his plans, of his ‘rightceous’ anger. How it was worth throwing away Thalia’s sacrifice to get him and Annabeth here safely, how it was worth abandoning Annabeth. Just like her dad. Like her mom.

The creek churned with my rage, though Luke was too involved in his own head to notice. "The flying shoes were cursed," I said. "They were supposed to drag me and the backpack into the Pit. But you almost sent Grover in instead, your old protector."

"He wasn’t my protector, all he cared about was Thalia! I was a tagalong! And you, you gave the shoes to the satyr, which wasn't part of the plan. Grover messes up everything he touches. He even confused the curse." Luke looked down at the scorpion, which was now sitting on my thigh. "You should have died in Tartarus, Percy. But don't worry, I'll leave you with my little friend to set things right."

"Thalia gave her life to save you," I said, gritting my teeth. "And this is how you repay her?"

"Don't speak of Thalia!" he shouted. "The gods let her die! That's one of the many things they will pay for." He looked like he was going to say something else, but then his face closed off. "Good-bye, Percy. There is a new Golden Age coming. You won't be part of it."

He slashed his sword in an arc and disappeared in a ripple of darkness.

The scorpion lunged.

I reached out to swat it.

Something lunged from the darkness and sliced threw the scorpion, a whir of black. When the world focused enough for me to see the shape of the being holding the sword, I could feel a feral grin spread across my face to match his own.

I lunged.

Nico had apparently been training as much as I had, because he immediately moved to trip me and moved his body out of the way instead of running. I was still bigger than him by a bit, he was only ten after all, but his excitement reminded me of a puppy and so I let him eventually get me on the ground.

“I did it!” he exclaimed proudly while Bianca laughed from the shadows, and I was sure he was looking at her for approval. This is how you do siblings, right? You let them win sometimes?

I growled playfully and rolled out from under him while he was distracted. “How did you get out? I…we were in front of your dad and we didn't have time to get to you.” I rubbed the back of my neck, and I had to force myself not to pick at my scales. “I only had enough pearls for the three of us.”

Bianca skipped over and gave me a hug, her scent oddly covered by something faintly pomegranate. “It's okay, we were never going to get out. Our Father came for us as soon as you disappeared, or at least he directed us towards somewhere safe while he dealt with you. He wanted to send us back to the hotel. Wipe our memories.”

I growled lowly at the thought and reached out to grab Nico. He was very happy to stand there while I nuzzled his hair and Bianca just put a hand up when I went to do the same to her.

“Our Step-Mother is Queen and She holds the right to oversee any decisions about Underworld citizens. Our Father might have the realm, but She is the one who controls its people.” Bianca dropped to sit on the ground, beaming. “She said we could keep our memories and be trained in the Underworld until we're ready to rejoin society.” She giggled. “Apparently she also believes in field trips. She quite likes the term.”

Nico nodded enthusiastically and plopped right next to her. She reached out to pet his hair, making him rumble gently.

“Is She watching us?” Not that I minded that much if She was going to let them see me, but I didn't like the thought of someone watching me without my knowledge.

“No,” Bianca said. “Camp is the only place She'll leave us without her and She's been Called.”

I flinched as I looked back to where the scorpion had been, now just a puddle of tar. “Do they know…?”

“About you? I don't think so. The Charioteer announced that the prophecy would be coming to fruition soon, so they wanted to be prepared when it did.”

I huffed. “How am I supposed to convince everyone that Luke was the thief? Yeah he's a son of Hermes, but stereotypes aside there is no evidence. You kind of killed all I had.”

“Did you want to die?” Bianca raised an eyebrow at me.

I growled in frustration. “No, but at least I could have proved it!”

“How? You would have been dead!”

“You don't know that!”

Nico sat up glaring at us. “You two need to stop fighting. Here.” He pulled out his sword and before we could question what he was doing, he sliced a decent sized hash in my calf.

It took a second for the pain to hit, but when it did I had to bite through my tongue to keep from swearing. As it was, I was sure I was making a lot of noise.

Nico didn't seem phased in the slightest and just put his sword back in the shadows. “You should get help. We’ll make sure you don’t die before you get to camp.”

“What did you do?” Bianca reached over to my wound, her hands lighting on fire to quickly cauterize it. Mostly what she did was make it hurt more and almost make me pass out. “Sorry, sorry. I’m not very good at this yet.”

“Now he has evidence he got attacked! As far as they're aware, Luke was the only one out here!”

I growled lowly as I started losing the ability to talk through the pain. The wound itself felt like that one time we lost power in the winter and I ended up with frostbite, while where Bianca had tried to help was on fire. Still smoldering. I tried standing to head to Camp, but my body just felt so heavy.

“I’m sorry,” Bianca whispered as she pulled her brother into the shadows.

I finally screamed.

I think I blacked out at one point. All I can remember is flashes of green hair and panicked eyes.

There was Kiron, his arms reaching for me.

I managed to whisper the traitors name before I was back in the darkness.

I woke up with bees buzzing in my brain and a drinking straw in my mouth.

Nectar.

I really didn’t want to open my eyes but I knew I wasn’t alone, their scents spreading throughout the room from their worry. I groaned as I forced myself to look around. I was propped up in bed in the sickroom of the Big House, my leg completely wrapped like I had broken it.

Argus stood guard in the corner. Annabeth sat next to me, holding my nectar glass and dabbing a washcloth on my forehead.

"I didn’t take you for the nursing type.”

"You idiot," Annabeth said, which is how I knew she was overjoyed to see me conscious. "I had to make sure you didn’t die! That cut on your leg…"

“Now, now,” Chiron’s voice said. “Percy is safe, child.” He was sitting near the foot of my bed in human form, which was weird. His scent was muted like that, maybe that's why I didn't realize what he was? Back at Yancy? He smiled, but his face looked weary and pale, the way it did when he'd been up all night grading Latin papers. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a Popsicle."

"Apt, considering that was Stygian Iron that you were cut with. Now you must tell me, if you can, exactly what happened."

Between sips of nectar, I told them everything that happened with Luke, up until the part with the Scorpion. I changed it to him summoning something that cut me, but I was too out of it to see what it was.

The room was quiet for a long time but clearly something else was going on. Chiron eventually had to go, leaving me with a steaming Annabeth who looked like she could melt the ice in my drink with her glare.

“Um…I didn’t exactly tell the whole truth.”

And then her glare was on me. I hated how her eyes narrowed like she already knew what I was going to say before I said it. “So Nico and Bianca decided to stop by… think their stepmom is meeting with Chiron right now.”

Annabeth seemed like she would be the kind of girl to hate swearing but the words that came out of her mouth in ancient Greek were so filthy I was tempted to cover my ears. She finally settled on huffing and sitting on the bed with a pout. “So Nico did this.”

“How do you know it wasn’t Bianca?”

“Did you do something stupid?”

“No.”

“Then it wasn’t Bianca, she seems smart enough not to hurt someone unless she’s really pissed.”

I rolled my eyes at her. “You just think that because she’s a girl.”

Annabeth stuck her tongue out at me and we both grinned, before it slipped off her face with the clock announcing the hour.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"Nothing." She set the glass on the table. "I … just took your advice about something. You … um … need anything?"

"Yeah. Help me up. I want to go outside."

It probably wasn’t the best idea, especially because it just showed off the few inches Annabeth had on me. I was also completely useless at walking as my leg refused to cooperate with me, basically dragging next to me as dead weight.

Annabeth didn’t seem to mind carrying my extra weight; she had far more training than me after all and her arms showed it. I had heard some of the older kids talking about how girls with muscles were weird and I kind of wanted them to meet Annabeth so she could knock them on their asses.

Eventually we got to the porch railing, allowing me to lean on it instead of her.

“What are you going to do?”

I shrugged. “I think Chiron wants me to stay here year-round, thinks the world out there is too dangerous for me or something. Plus all that time training? No one would get the better of me again.” I nudged her shoulder with mine and she purposefully ignored me. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “Maybe I should, but I don’t think I could stay. You’ll just have to survive the school year without me I’m afraid.”

Annabeth pursed her lips, then said quietly, "I'm going home for the year, Percy."

I stared at her. "You mean, to your dad's?"

She pointed toward the crest of Half-Blood Hill. Next to Thalia's pine tree, at the very edge of the camp's magical boundaries, a family stood silhouetted—two little children, a woman, and a tall man with blond hair. They seemed to be waiting. The man was holding a backpack that looked like the one Annabeth had gotten from Waterland in Denver.

She explained how she had sent a letter when we got back and they’d been writing, since she wasn’t sure if she was ready for a phone call. They’d decided it was time for a second chance, and her dad had promised that this time things would be better. She wrung her hands as she looked at me, before throwing her arms over my shoulders and pulling me into a hug. “We’ll go on a quest next summer, okay? Go after Luke, even if we have to sneak out to do it.”

I hugged her back as tightly as she did me. “Deal.”

She pulled away with a cheeky smile. "Take care, Seaweed Brain," Annabeth told me. "Keep your eyes open."

"You too, Wise Girl." And like that, I knew I was headed home to my mom.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #something this way comes #feral percy

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Fourteen: My Godly Family Reminds Me of Gabe

As we skyrocketed up into the earth, all of my forced confidence fell away as it finally hit me what was happening. We’d wasted all of this time when I’d had the stupid thing all along! My mother, my cousins. I couldn’t get them out.

"How do you control these things?" Annabeth shouted as she tried to back away from the ceiling coming ever closer.

"I don't think you do!" I shouted back as I tried to trust in my stepmother. What belongs to the sea will always return to the sea. The others screamed as the bubbles slammed into the ceiling and…Darkness. We were going up, right through solid rock as easily as an air bubble in water.

I thought the bubbles would pop once we broke through the ocean floor, but they continued racing upwards until we hit the surface, popping with enough force to make minor waves rolling away from us.

We knocked a surfer off his board with an indignant, "Dude!" but he seemed okay so I didn’t focus on him.

I grabbed Grover and hauled him over to a life buoy, right before he started sinking. I caught Annabeth and dragged her over too. A curious shark was circling us, a great white about eleven feet long. I didn’t have the patience to be nice and simply snarled at it. The shark turned and raced away.

The surfer screamed something about bad mushrooms and paddled away from us as fast as he could.

Somehow, I knew what time it was: early morning, June 21, the day of the summer solstice.

In the distance, Los Angeles was on fire, plumes of smoke rising from neighborhoods all over the city. There had been an earthquake, all right. But at the moment, the Underworld’s anger wasn't my biggest problem.

“We have to get to shore,” I said as I glared out over the open water. I’d been tricked and boy if I wasn’t ready to let loose.

A Coast Guard boat picked us up, but I was too busy focusing on keeping my appearance human to think about much of our interaction. My insides were itchy like I was having an allergic reaction, my eyes probably blown wide my teeth too sharp. My own blood tasted salty on my tongue.

After reaching dry land, we stumbled down the beach, watching the city burn against a beautiful sunrise.

"I don't believe it," Annabeth said. "We went all that way—"

"It was a trick," I said. "A strategy worthy of Athena."

"Percy..." Annabeth said sharply, before releasing a breath. "I'm sorry about your mother. And Bianca and Nico…."

I pretended not to hear her. If I thought about them all, I would throw her the backpack and return to the underworld with nothing else to lose.

"The prophecy was right," I said. "You shall go west and face the god who has turned.' Someone stole Zeus's master bolt, and Hades's helm, and framed me because I'm Poseidon's kid. Poseidon will get blamed by both sides. By sundown today, if we don’t return the bolt and the helm, there will be a three-way war."

Grover shook his head, mystified. "But who would be that sneaky? Who would want war that bad?"

I stopped in my tracks, looking down the beach as sulfur and fresh blood wafted our way. I wasn’t sure if he would have the stones to face us. "Gee, let me think."

There he was, waiting for us, in his black leather duster and his sunglasses, an aluminum baseball bat propped on his shoulder. His motorcycle rumbled beside him, its headlight turning the sand red.

"Hey, kid," the god of war said, seeming genuinely pleased to see me. "You were supposed to die."

At first I wasn’t really sure what to do. His aura was pressing in around me despite how benign it was. Almost as if it was simply spreading around without his control.

“Why?” I wasn’t sure what came over me but all of a sudden I wasn’t angry anymore, I was tired and didn’t want to keep holding everything together anymore. “Why did you lie like a coward, hide like one behind this bag?” I threw it down in the sand. “Why all this baseless destruction?”

The god shrugged but his knuckles went white on from gripping the bat too hard. “Why not?” He swept his gaze over the city with a lazy head turn. “Us gods gotta getr with the times. War is turning away from honor and courage. It’s now only violence for the sake of violence. Someone attacks, others defend, everyone takes a side and nothing resolves until everyone is dead.”

“Is that really all it is now?” I feel the words slipping past my tongue before I can stop them, despite my teeth clamping together. “I thought you would know better, A-re.”

He full transformed this time to a warrior in full armor, the metal plating lined with dark red leather and heavy stitching as the metal laid over itself to create a tube of metal protecting him. The layers across his shoulders bent upwards to account for his arms holding onto his sword, with a very long and narrow blade and rounded shoulders which ended in hornlike lugs.

The old god raised an eyebrow at us.

Annabeth sucked in a breath.

Grover actually whimpered.

A-re grinned after a moment and started to look me over. “It’s been a long time since I had a child of old, but I do recognize the signs. For this and this alone, I will explain.” The backpack Ares gave them in Denver was enchanted. It is the master bolt's sheath. So, just as Riptide always finds its way back into my pocket, the master bolt would find its way into the backpack as soon as I made it into the underworld. “No offense, boy—” he cut himself off by turning back into his old (new?) form. His head shifted like he heard something, his face going slack.

“Sending the bolt to the Underworld wasn't your idea, was it?" The pieces of the universe that usually slipped away from me started coming back together into a new picture.

He snapped out of his daze to glare at me. "Of course it was!"

"You didn't order the theft," I guessed. "Someone else sent a hero to steal the two items. Then, when Zeus sent you to hunt him down, you caught the thief. But you didn't turn him over to Zeus. Something convinced you to let him go. You kept the items until another hero could come along and complete the delivery. That thing in the pit is ordering you around."

"I am the god of war! I take orders from no one! I don't have dreams!"

I hesitated. "Who said anything about dreams?"

He snapped his fingers, not bothering with pleasantries now that he was exposed. The sand exploded at his feet and out charged a wild boar. The beast pawed the sand, glaring at me with beady eyes as it lowered its razor-sharp tusks and waited for the command to kill.

I stepped into the surf. "Fight me yourself, Ares."

The rest of the fight was a blur. At some point I stopped caring if I was redirecting his swings with my claws or my sword. The mist was doing all the work anyway, right? Keeping everyone from seeing us? Who cared if his slashes glanced off the few times he was able to get close to my arms? I knew my mom always wanted me to hide from Their sight, to keep Them from finding out what I truly was. But today? With war coming in the morning with no end in sight?

On the cusp of my father’s domain, the cold of the water spraying at my feet, nothing could touch me. Not even the God of War himself.

It all ended when I got him in the surf, the current bending to my will as my anger pooled at my feet and started to churn thicker as ice chunks appeared. With the water reacting the way it was, it was easy to disorient him with a wave to the face. I bluffed a hit towards his side with my sword before swiping at his ankle as I dodged his counter-attack, my claws dragging across his Achillies. I would tell Annabeth later, she might enjoy the irony.

The roar that followed made the earthquake look like a minor event. The very sea was blasted back from the god, leaving a wet circle of sand fifty feet wide. Ichor, the golden blood of the gods, flowed from a gash in his boot.

A-re appeared again, the gold of his blood following the path of his sandaled feet. His roar quickly turned to laughter as he ripped one of the tassels off his shoulder to press to his wound, stepping further onto the sand to avoid the tide coming back in force. “Good fight, child. You are most certainly your father’s son.”

Before I could respond, his face darkened and he was again back in his other form but this time it was clear it wasn’t his choice. He sort of flickered, like an old movie skipping. Then the world turned dark, as if a cloud covered the sun, but worse. Light faded. Sound and color drained away. A cold, heavy presence passed over the beach, slowing time, dropping the temperature to freezing, and making me feel like life was hopeless, fighting was useless.

It was only a moment but I couldn’t stop the hiss that seeped through my teeth.

The war god looked stunned.

“Beware, Perseus Jackson," he whispered, though his voice boomed over the empty beach. “You may have old blood, but there are things even older than your father. And the more of the old world you try to bring back, the more that will find you.”

His body began to glow.

'''Percy!" Annabeth shouted. "Don't watch!"

I turned away before I could disintegrate into ashes.

The light died.

I looked back. The tide rolled out to reveal the Underworld’s bronze helm of darkness. I picked it up and walked toward my friends. I could already smell the leather and sulfur that came with the demon grandmothers all together, the kindly ones they’d been called.

The middle one, the one who had been Mrs. Dodds, stepped forward. Her fangs were bared, but for once she didn't look threatening. She looked amused as she took in my extended claws and bared teeth, right back at her. “You amuse me, demigod.”

I tossed her the helmet, which she caught with a smirk.

"Live well, Percy Jackson. Become a true hero. You are being watched by more than just the Gods, so please do continue to be interesting." Then she and her sisters rose on their bats' wings, fluttered into the smoke-filled sky, and disappeared.

I joined Grover and Annabeth, who were staring at me in amazement.

"Percy ..." Grover said. "That was so incredibly ..."

"Terrifying," said Annabeth.

"Cool!" Grover corrected.

I wanted to laugh at Grover’s excitement and tell Annabeth I was okay, but my mind couldn’t move from that moment before the war god disappeared. "Did you guys feel that... whatever it was?" I asked.

They both nodded uneasily.

"Must've been the Furies overhead," Grover said.

I looked at Annabeth, and an understanding passed between us. I knew now what was in that pit, what had spoken from the entrance of Tartarus.

I reclaimed my backpack from Grover and looked inside. The master bolt was still there. Such a small thing to almost cause World War III.

"We have to get back to New York," I said. "By tonight."

"That's impossible," Annabeth said, "unless we—"

"Fly," I agreed.

Flying was the worst experience of my life and I had lived with Smelly Gabe for years. With my stepfather, he was predictable in his violence and his drinking. It wasn’t hard to figure out his routines and patterns, when to avoid the apartment and when he would go ballistic if I wasn’t home.

But airplanes weren’t under my control or had patterns I could recognize or learn, only my uncle’s anger and his unpredicatability. Even when we hit the ground and were running away from the media, all I could think was that I was going to actually have to face the god who wanted me dead. And not for any real reason, just for existing.

When we got to the taxi stand, I put a hand on each of their shoulders and tried to look between them as a best I could. “We need to split up.”

Annabeth immediately opened her mouth to protest while Grover looked resigned.

“You have to get back to Camp Half-Blood and tell Chiron what happened, okay? They need to know so they can prepare for what’s coming.” If things went wrong, if the gods didn't believe me ... I wanted Annabeth and Grover to survive to tell Chiron the truth.

“You don’t get to just send us away now! We have to go with you!” For a moment I thought Annabeth was going to complain about me taking all the credit, but I shouldn’t have been surprised when she clenched her hands into fists. “Whose going to watch your back? Vouch for you? Grover can go back, talk to them.” She glared at me when I didn’t immediately jump on board. “You are such a…seaweed brain! You don’t have to do everything alone!”

“THIS! This I have to do alone.” I stepped away from them with a half smile, pressing my fingers inside my mouth to give a taxi whistle. “I’ll see you back at camp.”

Thirty minutes later, I walked into the lobby of the Empire State Building. It wasn’t hard to convince the security guard to let me through, all I had to do was show him the bolt. The hard part, the hard part of it all, was trying to rein in everything that would out me.

Mount Olympus smelled like a meadow full of wildflowers, a thousand different kind spread over the grass while the breeze carried them over to me.

Muzak played, "raindrops keep falling on my head...." from the still open elevator doors.

As I walked around, I found myself comparing the scenery to the Underworld’s Palace. Did my father create this place when he was king, mimicking the world he was forced away from? I would have to ask Annabeth about the architecture to get an idea of when it was from.

Steps led up to a central courtyard. Past that, the throne room.

Room really isn't the right word. The place made Grand Central Station look like a broom closet. Massive columns rose to a domed ceiling, which was gilded with moving constellations.

Twelve thrones, built for beings the size of Gods, were arranged in an inverted U, just like the cabins at Camp Half-Blood. An enormous fire crackled in the central hearth pit, but this time the little girl goddess wasn’t tending to it. The thrones were empty except for two at the end: the head throne on the right, and the one to its immediate left. I didn't have to be told who the two gods were that were sitting there, waiting for me to approach.

My uncle smelled of ozone, while his aura brushed over me like a mix between down feathers and the graze of claws. He wore a dark blue pinstriped suit. He sat on a simple throne of solid platinum. He had a well-trimmed beard, marbled gray and black like a storm cloud. His face was proud and handsome and grim, his eyes rainy gray.

I wonder what he thought, seeing me. If he saw his brother’s child or just a nuisance.

I turned my gaze away from him as I moved closer. The god sitting next to him was his brother, without a doubt, but he was dressed very differently. He reminded me of a beachcomber from Key West. He wore leather sandals, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a Tommy Bahama shirt with coconuts and parrots all over it.

He looked nothing like what I imagined my father to look like and it wasn;t hard to separate the two versions of him in my mind. This wasn’t him, but it was the god who my mom fell in love with. I approached the fisherman's throne and knelt at his feet. "My lord." I dared not look up. My heart was racing. I could feel the energy emanating from the two gods, the heavy currents of the sea whipping around a cyclone. I had interrupted an argument.

To my left, the King God spoke. "Should you not address the master of this house first, boy?"

I kept my head down, and waited.

"Peace, brother," the fisherman finally said. He was studying me, catching all of the ways I was different. My only hope was that his brother was too prideful to look at a demigod. "The boy defers to his father. This is only right."

They spoke back and forth, volleying arguments over me like mortals might pass a ball. I was simply an any beneath them. Hoping neither cared enough to step on me.

"Perseus," the fisherman said eventually. "Look at me."

When I did, I wasn’t sure what to think of him. He was clearly unsure what to do with me and that was fine. I didn’t know what to do with him either. Why was it so much easier with his wife? Was it because I wasn’t her husband’s bastard? Only her friends?

"Address Lord Zeus, boy," he told me. "Tell him your story."

I turned my head back to the King and began weaving one like Annabeth at a loom. She’d told me once that all of the Grey-Eyed Ones children knew how, with varying levels of skill, and it was one of the things she could do but didn’t really enjoy it.

This felt like that. Like I could tell him of traveling across the country and fighting Medusa, but I didn’t like twisting the truth of it. I could have told him the truth, all of it, but there were parts of my life I never wanted to fall under his domain. I cut the Di’Angelo’s out all together. No reason to draw attention to them if they were already found.

And when I got to the part about my fight with the War God…I paused.

“Speak, boy,” the King demanded.

“The God of War was waiting for us on the beach when we escaped. He said we were meant to die…that the pit was supposed to take us. I’ve been dreaming of it.” I described my dreams, and the feeling I'd had on the beach, that momentary breath of evil that had seemed to stop the world. “Ares was saying something but once it passed, he simply left. Like he was ordered.”

"You are accusing Hades, after all?" the King asked.

Are you saying that you think your own son would betray you for him? I wanted to ask, but I bit my tongue and took a breath. “No, Lord Zeus. It was the same thing I felt when I got close to that pit, outside of the Underworld’s Domain. That was the entrance to the below, wasn't it? Something powerful and evil is stirring down there...something even older than the gods."

“He’s stirring brother,” the fisherman said in Ancient Greek, speaking softly enough that I was able to understand him before he was speaking too quickly for me to keep up. I was better with the Olde Tongue anyway.

Again they volleyed back and forth until finally the King raised his hand in an immature way of silencing his brother. "We will speak of this no more," he said. "I must go personally to purify this thunderbolt in the waters of Lemnos, to remove the human taint from its metal." He rose and looked at me. His expression softened just a fraction of a degree. "You have done me a service, boy. Few heroes could have accomplished as much."

"I had help, sir," I said. "Grover Underwood and Annabeth Chase—"

"To show you my thanks, I shall spare your life. I do not trust you, Perseus Jackson. But for the sake of peace in the family, I shall let you live."

"Thank you, sir."

"Do not presume to fly again. Do not let me find you here when I return. Otherwise you shall taste this bolt. And it shall be your last sensation."

Thunder shook the palace. With a blinding flash of lightning, the King was gone.

I wasn’t sure what to say to the fisherman once his brother was gone, especially when he shrunk down to stand next to me in the form of a man. “It is best if we don’t speak for long, I am unsure how long I can hold this form in your presence.”

“But—” I flinched back at his raised eyebrow. “Of course, my lord.”

A faint smile played on his lips. "Obedience does not come naturally to you, does it?"

"No...sir."

"I must take some blame for that, I suppose. The sea does not like to be restrained." He chuckled lowly as he looked out of the throne room wistfully. "Your mother was stubborn too, always so wild. Not even the Underworld could hold her, she has now returned."

I almost collapsed in relief at having one piece of my family back, but his hands on my shoulder’s kept me steady.

"You will find her at home. My brother sent her when you recovered his helm. The Underworld always pays his debts." His eyes took on a little sadness when I just nodded, maybe hoping I would ask him to come with me. Even if it wasn’t possible. "When you return home, Percy, you must make an important choice. You will find a package waiting in your room."

"A package?"

"You will understand when you see it. No one can choose your path, Percy. You must decide."

I nodded slowly, still unsure of what he meant.

"Your mother is a queen among women," he said wistfully and his form flickered to that of a warrior, similar in style to the War God’s but lined in a dark blue almost black and something heavier and darker than bronze. "I had not met such a mortal woman in a thousand years. Still ... I am sorry you were born, child. My children always suffer more than others, and I never want you to feel that pain."

I wasn’t sure how to take that. Here was my true father, not some younger version of him, telling me he was sorry I was born. But he was also clearly upset at the thought of me suffering. “I’m a survuvor father. My mother raised me to be nothing less.”

He smiled and suddenly I could see where I got it from. His teeth were lined like a sharks, with blood crusted on a few of the tips. I smiled back and he laughed again. "You did well, Perseus. Do not misunderstand me. Whatever else you do, know that you are mine. You are a true son of mine." He placed his hands on my shoulders for a moment, pressing his forehead to mine, before he turned me away.

I didn’t have to look back to know he was gone.

I don’t remember how I got there, but I was suddenly in front of my mom's apartment door, ringing the doorbell, and there she was—my beautiful mother, smelling of peppermint and licorice, the weariness and worry evaporating from her face as soon as she saw me.

"Percy! Oh, thank goodness. Oh, my baby." She crushed the air right out of me.

We stood in the hallway as she cried and ran her hands through my hair.

“Your uncle brought me here this morning, sacred Gabe half out of his wits. One minute I was in the gardens and then Gabe was telling me you’re a wanted criminal! I wanted to watch the news, but he said I had a month's salary to make up and I’d better get started.”

I knew she was only telling me everything because she was so panicked and I wasn’t sure if I was glad she had or not. For one, I hate when she doesn’t tell me everything but my claws were now digging into my palms hard enough for blood to drip down to the floor. I held back my anger as I tried to explain what had happened since our fight with Pasiphae’s son.

She put a hand on my cheek when I got to Bianca and Nico, but before she could say anything, Gabe called out from the living room.

"Hey, Sally! That meat loaf done yet or what?"

She closed her eyes. "He isn't going to be happy to see you, Percy….just don't make him angrier, all right? Come on."

In the month I'd been gone, the apartment had turned into Gabeland. Garbage was ankle deep on the carpet. The sofa had been reupholstered in beer cans. Dirty socks and underwear hung off the lampshades.

Gabe and three of his big goony friends were playing poker at the table.

When Gabe saw me, his cigar dropped out of his mouth. His face got redder than lava. "You got nerve coming here, you little punk. I thought the police—"

"He's not a fugitive after all," my mom interjected. "Isn't that wonderful, Gabe?"

"Bad enough I had to give back your life insurance money, Sally," he growled as he slowly got to his feet and started stalking towards us. "Get me the phone. I'll call the cops."

"Gabe, no!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Did you just say 'no'? You think I'm gonna put up with this punk again? I can still press charges against him for ruining my Camaro.”

"But—"

He raised his hand, and my mother flinched.

My mind blanked. I blinked as my brain processed what that meant. Gabe had hit my mother. I didn't know when, or how much. But I was sure he'd done it. Maybe it had been going on for years, when I wasn't around.

He was on the floor underneath me with my claws to his neck. There was a part of me that knew I shouldn’t, the part that was human, but the rest of me screamed to tear out his throat with my teeth and hang his body to drain like a trophy in front of our door. A warning to the rest of the world that no one touched my mother.

“Percy!”

Gabe gurgled on the floor, his eyes blown wide, while his buddies sat there dumbfounded.

“Percy, put the knife down,” my mom whispered and suddenly my claws flickered into a kitchen knife, one of the ones my mom used for meat. Was this what they saw? “We’ll get your things.”

No matter what part of me was in control, the one thing I would never do is disobey my mom. I snarled down at the lump of shit on the floor, but stood quickly and stormed to my room. As soon as the door was closed, I asked. “How long?”

My mom was crying again, holding herself as she refused to look at me. “Does it matter?”

A package appeared on my bed. It was a battered cardboard box about the right size to fit a basketball. The address on the mailing slip was in my own handwriting:

The Gods

Mount Olympus

600th Floor,

Empire StateBuilding

New York, NY

With best wishes,

PERCY JACKSON

Over the top in black marker, in a man's clear, bold print, was the address of our apartment, and the words: RETURN TO SENDER.

And I knew I couldn’t be the one to do it. I had been fighting my own monsters for a month, learning to work with Annabeth and Grover and not just protect them but trust them to take care of themselves.

My mom saw the package too and even if she didn’t know what was inside, she knew me. Like I knew her. “You can't do this for me. You can't solve my problems. Not this"

"I can do it," I told my mom. "One look inside this box, and he'll never bother you again."

She glanced at the package, and seemed to understand immediately. "No, Percy," she said, stepping away. "You can't. I know you have been growing up but Gabe is human. I can’t ask you to cross that line, not for me."

"You deserve better than this, Mom! You don't need to protect me anymore by staying with Gabe. Let me get rid of him. I was ready to do it just now, but if you want it cleaner…"

“Percy,” she said. Her tone was normal, not even annoyed. And yet I knew I couldn’t be the one to kill him, not when my mother had suffered at his hands every day and made sure I was gone for ten months of the year.

I handed her the box, making sure she looked me in the eye before nodding. “I won’t. I’ll go back to Camp and I’ll train and make friends.”

"For the summer ... or forever?"

"I guess that depends."

We locked eyes, and I sensed that we had an agreement. We would see how things stood at the end of the summer.

She kissed my forehead. "You'll be a hero, Percy. You'll be the greatest of all."

Gabe seemed to have finally realized what was happening and lumbered over to my room, his buddies following as a pathetic form of backup. “The police are on their way boy, I suggest you get if you want to stay out of the slammer.”

“He’s going, Gabe,” my mom whispered and pushed me towards the door. “He won’t be coming back here.”

“Good riddance.” He laughed and followed me towards the front door. I thought he was going to say something to me, but instead his grin turned as mean as when he used to pull out the belt. "Hey, Sally," he yelled over his shoulder. "What about that meatloaf, huh?"

I made eye contact with her as she stepped into the hallway. A steely look of anger flared in my mother's eyes, and I thought maybe I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #something this way comes #feral percy

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Thirteen: We Get My Cousins A Puppy

Convincing my cousins I was who I said I was took both more and less time than I expected. It was easy to explain our fathers as our blood sang for each other, cousins reunited. But getting them to believe we were the children of gods? When they had been raised catholic in Italy? Nico seemed to believe me easily, as he started pulling out his game cards and asking about each of them and their accuracy while Bianca seemed to be reserving judgment.

“Say we believe you.” Bianca’s frown hadn’t disappeared the entire time we were talking. “Why should we leave? We’re safe here and it’s where our father wants us to be.”

“When was the last time you went outside?”

The three of us froze as something sweet wafted over us, making everyone around us disperse towards new games.

Bianca growled while Nico puffed up like a scared cat.

I didn’t understand why though, it was probably just someone's perfume. It was so nice. Maybe they were right, we should stay…

“Percy!”

“I need to find my friends,” I told them as I smiled. I had friends, right? “See you.” Video games were calling my name. The other players were friends right? There was a guy playing this weird shooter game that I walked by, where the gunman was a deer. I looked away before I could see what the targets were.

I started drifting to the big TVs where it looked like a gaming tournament was happening, but someone grabbed my hand to stop me. I startled at the contact and tried to pull away, but nails dug into my skin until I was whirling around to hiss at them. “What’s your problem?”

“Percy, you said we had to leave.” The kid holding my hand was so small, he barely reached my shoulders, but his gaze was hard as he stared at me. “Percy.”

Who are you? was on the tip of my tongue before my mind cleared again. “Nico. Fuck, yeah, we need to find the others.” I readjusted his grip on my hand so it was more comfortable before looking around for signature blonde curls.

We found Annabeth using a building simulator, her eyes fixed on the screen even as we walked over to her. "Come on," I told her, trying to get her attention. "We've got to get out of here."

No response.

I shook her. "Annabeth?"

She looked up, annoyed, and didn’t even seem to see my new limpet in the form of a ten year old. "What?

"We need to leave."

"Leave? What are you talking about? I've just got the towers—"

"Listen. The Underworld. Our quest!"

"Oh, come on, Percy. Just a few more minutes."

I grabbed her wrist and yanked her away from the game, dragging both her and Nico with me towards where I think Grover was.

"Hey!" She screamed and hit me, but nobody else even bothered looking at us. They were too busy.

I made her look directly in my eyes. I said, "Spiders. Large, hairy spiders."

That jarred her. Her vision cleared. "Oh my gods," she said. "How long have we—"

She still didn’t seem to see Nico, still out of it. I didn’t have time to focus on that right now as I got us back on track to finding Grover. When we found him, he didn’t even seem to notice us.

"Grover!" we both shouted, as Nico flinched away from the noise at my side. He pressed himself more into my arm.

He said, "Die, human! Die, silly, polluting nasty person!"

"Grover!"

He turned the plastic gun on me and started clicking, as if I were just another image from the screen.

Bianca found us right as I felt like I was going to explode. “We’re leaving. Now.” She had a mom voice, who let her have a mom voice? At least my friends nodded quickly and followed her towards the exit.

Nico tugged on my arm which was the only reason I realized I was stuck in place. “You have to go too, Percy.” He is so small and his eyes are so big, but his grip is strong as he leads me out of the Casino.

It isn’t until I take my first breath of the sweltering heat outside that it hits me how twisted it was that they tricked us, children at a casino. I hate that my stomach wouldn’t be rolling as hard if they had called it literally anything else. I followed Bianca’s thundering footsteps down the street.

It felt like afternoon, about the same time of day we'd gone into the casino, but something was wrong. The weather had completely changed. It was stormy, with heat lightning flashing out in the desert.

Ares's backpack was slung over my shoulder, which was odd, because I was sure I had thrown it in the trash can in room 4001, but at the moment I had other problems to worry about.

Annabeth and Grover were still dazed from the trap, neither of them even seeming to notice our new tag-alongs despite Bianca fisting their sleeves so they didn’t wander back. Annabeth looked clearer than Grover, but her eyes weren’t focusing right.

I ran to the nearest newspaper stand and read the year first. Thank the gods, it was the same year it had been when we went in. Then I noticed the date: June twentieth.

We had been in the Lotus Casino for five days.

We had only one day left until the summer solstice. One day to complete our quest.

“Fuck.”

Annabeth punched me for swearing and then took the newspaper to see what was happening. “Fuck.”

I almost laughed but my throat was too dry.

Grover snaps out of his daze and finally seems to notice the two new kids, his pupils narrowing to sideways slits as his nostrils flared. “Fudge.” He turns to glare at me and waves at them. “How did you find more Big Three children? I left you alone for an hour!”

“More like three days,” I reminded him but tilted my head. “How could you tell?”

“They look like you and they smell like a graveyard.”

Bianca huffed. “Excuse you! Who even are you?” She looks around as if she has no idea how we got outside. “Someone tell me what’s going on!”

At the sound of a new voice, Annabeth looked up from the newspaper she’d actually been reading through. She turned to give me a look. “Percy, you need to stop collecting people.”

I pretend to have no idea what she’s talking about while Nico giggles. At least one of us is enjoying themselves.

Grover is trying to explain about gods and monsters and what he meant with his graveyard comment but he only got so far as saying, “you’re children of death” before Bianca started to slowly back away with her fists now in Nico’s shirt instead.

The ten year old, however, was wiggling free as he tried to hear more of what Grover was saying. “Do monsters really have attack power and hit points? Do you keep track of that sort of thing? How many does Percy have?”

Before my best friend could try answering that, because I knew he would say something stupid like “Percy has a lot” or “Percy is a boss”, because he’s a hype man even in the face of danger, I slowly reached out and pulled Bianca’s hands free of Nico’s shirt.

“𐀞𐀳 𐀂𐀍𐀳 𐀺𐀺,” I told her. I told her of siblings who were scarred with pain and used it to make a home. One became darkness and his form became large, where he could protect those he cared for. One used his waters to ferry the dead to safety. And of them a child was born, one who took care of the dead and the Underworld and the earth all the same. And the Underworld loved her. I told her that we are children of old and asked her if she really believes she’s human.

Bianca’s answer is the baring of teeth turned to fangs, her irises exploding until there were no whites in her eyes. Her claws dig into my hands, but do not break skin. They simply remind me they could if they wanted to.

Nico, though he does not need to be convinced, rotates his head around to the point his neck appears broken, his eyes unblinking as he makes a questioning noise that sort of sounds like hooting.

“Fine, I believe you,” she said and I hoped my friends were keeping their cool. They’d seen me do enough weird shit, hopefully this didn’t rate too high. “Why get us out of there?”

“We’re going to see your dad,” Annabeth said. I turn to look at her but she doesn’t meet my eyes.

I tried to assure them both. “We’ll explain the rest on the way.”

Annabeth ended up calling a taxi van out of a phone book, since a normal taxi wouldn't fit all of us. As we all piled in, she leaned into the front seat holding out the lotus card. “Do you take casino cards?”

The guy in the front seat looked at her with raised eyebrows but didn't question where she had gotten one from. “Depends on the casino and how much is on the card. I just gotta check it first.” He took the offered card and swiped it through his machine, his eyebrows raising higher and higher until they almost disappeared when an infinity sign. His jaw drops open before he collects himself. “Where to then, you're highness?”

“Los Angeles, the Santa Monica Pier,” Annabeth said as she straightened up. She definitely liked being referred to as royalty and I sent Grover a look behind her back.

He rolled his eyes at me and Bianca had to cover her mouth with her hand to smother her giggles.

“The faster you get us there, the bigger a tip I give,” Annabeth continued. She smiled prettily at him, but her eyes flashed. “And I'd expect our privacy to be protected.”

“No questions,” the driver promised and instructed us to put on our seatbelts. The second we were buckled in, his foot was on the gas.

Despite buying the driver's silence, I tried to keep my explanation on what was happening pretty simple. Something important of our uncles was stolen and he thought one of our dad's did it, so we just had to prove that that wasn't true so he wouldn't start a big fight. Since their father was in LA, we were going to talk to him about it. Plus my mom was “visiting” him and I hadn't seen her in a while.

After walking through everything as best we could, I was sure the driver thought we were mafia children or something and was going to disappear with his very large tip the second we were out of his vehicle.

Considering he was silent the whole time and the speedometer didn't dip below ninety the whole way, I was sure Annabeth wouldn't skimp on it.

The amount of zeros she put in the tip would set him and the rest of his family up for life. When I raised an eyebrow at her, she shrugged.

“It's not like it's going to run out.” Before I could say anything else, she turned to look at Nico and Bianca. Something on their faces must have confused her because her eyebrows furrowed slightly and her thinking face appeared. “What is it?” While Nico was looking around in wonder, Bianca was staring distrustfully at the carnival rides lining the pier like she’d never seen some of them before. “It’s so…big.” She shook her head like a wet dog, her hair flying around her face and her beanie tilting dangerously on her head. “Never mind, let's just get this over with.”

It had been so long since I had been in the ocean, since I had been able to let go. I felt like parts of myself were disappearing the longer I was in the new world, with new gods, and only scarce memories of the past.

"Percy?" Annabeth asked. "What are you doing?"

I kept walking, up to my waist, then my chest. My mouth was too full of teeth to talk.

She called after me, "You know how polluted that water is? There are all kinds of toxic—"

That's when my head went under.

It took a second for my body to adjust back to I could sense the rolling texture of the bottom. I could make out sand-dollar colonies dotting the sandbars. I could even see the currents, warm and cold streams swirling together.

My scales stretched for the first time in what felt like years, breaking out from under my skin in layers and crawling steadily around my arms and legs like armor. My claws stretch out before me while my eyes provide enough light to see by…or for others to see by.

I felt something rub against my leg. Sliding along beside me was a five-foot-long mako shark. I reached down to pet it gently, careful not to hurt it, and smiled. They were such puppies, just sort of nibbling on things to figure out what they were. When I touched its dorsal fin, it bucked a little, as if inviting me to hold tighter. I grabbed the fin with both hands.

It took off, pulling me along. The shark carried me down into the darkness. It deposited me at the edge of the ocean proper, where the sandbank dropped off into a huge chasm. I knew if I stepped off, I would fall to the bottom and never come back. Down there the God King could not get to me, could not drag me into his wars.

I was pulled from my spiraling thoughts by something glimmering in the darkness below, growing bigger and brighter as it rose toward me. My stepmother called: "Percy Jackson." As she got closer, her shape became clearer. Her resemblance to my mother made a low whine rise in my throat, causing the stallion sized seahorse she was riding to knicker quietly.

She dismounted. The seahorse and the mako shark whisked off and started playing something that looked like tag. "You've come far, Percy Jackson. Well done."

I bowed to her, both as the wife of the god my father had become and as the Queen of the Seas. The third eldest of the Nereids. In the days of the transition, my father was her consort and did not rule the ocean. She had been royalty, a Queen, for longer than the god of the seas had existed. “Stepmother.”

She chuckled like I was a child who said something cute. “I will accept this title from you, though we both know I am not. It has been many years since a child of the Wanax has been born. We have watched you with great interest."

I always knew my father was watching me, or at least those of the sea. Women at the bottom of the sea weaving baskets and singing songs of old, monsters who simply watched. “And yet he has stayed away.”

"Do not judge him too harshly," she told me, though it was clear she approved. "He is forbidden to help you directly. The gods may not show such favoritism…and your mother has made it clear whose child you really are."

I grinned at the idea of someone as powerful as a god bending to the will of my mother, recognizing her power.

"But you do carry the blood of my friend, which is why I give you a warning, and a gift." She held out her hand. Three white pearls flashed in her palm. “You have gifts you have only begun to know. The oracles have foretold a great and terrible future for you, should you survive to manhood. Your father would not have you die before your time. Therefore take these, and when you are in need, smash a pearl at your feet."

"What will happen?"

"That," she said, "depends on the need. But remember: what belongs to the sea will always return to the sea."

"What about the warning?"

Her eyes flickered with green light. "Go with what your heart tells you, or you will lose all. Keep faith. Good luck, Percy Jackson." She leaned foreward suddenly and pressed a kiss to my forehead, a soft thing that left my skin tingling in the wake of her gesture. “We of the sea are behind you.”

I forced myself to remain still as she mounted her steed and drifted back towards the depths, knowing that if I moved before she was gone I would simply follow her.

When I got back from my talk with the goddess, my friends were waiting for me. Annabeth had bought some snacks and got cash to take the bus with to West Hollywood. I showed the driver the Underworld address slip I'd taken from Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium, but he'd never heard of DOA Recording Studios.

He eyed us for a moment and seemed to want to ask us what we were doing all alone, but there were more passengers behind us. We got off at the next stop.

The worst part of wandering around looking for the entrance was watching Bianca and Nico react to the city. The weirdest things kept catching their attention, like neon signs and chain restaurants. A few times I thought they were going to ask about something, but each time Bianca caught herself and put a hand on Nico’s shoulder to keep him quiet.

It made me think about how long they might have been in the casino. I really didn’t want to.

“Do you feel that pull?” Nico asked after our third loop around the same few blocks. “It’s like…”

“Mom, calling us in for dinner,” Bianca offered and her eyes turned misty as she turned a bit to the left. “I think we should go this way.”

Annabeth didn’t seem so sure, but Grover nodded quickly.

“What?” he asked when she gave him a look. “My hooves hurt, we’ve been walking for days.”

Even with our new underworld detection system worked out, it got dark, and hungry-looking characters started coming out on the streets to play. Now, don't get me wrong. I'm a New Yorker. I don't scare easy. But L.A. had a totally different feel from New York. Back home, everything seemed close. It didn't matter how big the city was, you could get anywhere without getting lost. The street pattern and the subway made sense. There was a system to how things worked. A kid could be safe as long as he wasn't stupid.

L.A. wasn't like that. It was spread out, chaotic, hard to move around. It reminded me of the war goss new form. It wasn't enough for L.A. to be big; it had to prove it was big by being loud and strange and difficult to navigate, too.

A few people eyed us as we walked by, but one narrow eyed look from Bianca or a too sharp smile from me kept them all a reasonably safe distance away.

Eventually I was growing bored when I caught the scent of something dangerous. Burned salt and boiling sand. Rope. Monster.

“Lets go this way,” I suggest since we are already sort of wandering in the general direction of the smell. After a few minutes, Nico’s head snapped up with a loud crack! to look at me, but I simply brought a finger to my lips and winked.

Only one store on the block looked open, its windows glaring with neon. The sign above the door said something like CRSTUY'S WATRE BDE ALPACE.

"Crusty's Water Bed Palace?" Grover translated.

“I wonder why they’re open,” I wonder despite how much my skin itches from the feeling of rope burn winding around my chest. “Let’s check it out.”

“We need to keep moving, “Annabeth protested. “There’s nothing useful in there, at the vew least we could find a bodega.”

“What’s a bodega?”

Before Annabeth could stop me, too busy being distracted by Nico’s curiosity, I pushed my way inside the shop to look around. It wasn’t hard to find the owner, as he turned to look at me over his counter when the bell on the door started jingling.

He honestly looked like a raptor in a leisure suit. He was at least seven feet tall, with absolutely no hair. He had gray, leathery skin, thick-lidded eyes, and a cold, reptilian smile. He moved toward us slowly, but I got the feeling he could move fast if he needed to. “Hello, I’m Crusty.”

I resisted the urge to say, Yes, you are.

“What brings in a few kids like you lot to my store?”

I put on my best smile, the one that most kids at my old schools would look at and not flinch away from. The teachers always did, but it seemed it wasn’t an adult thing as Crusty didn’t seem to catch on. “Just wanted to see what was inside, you know? You have a lot of different water beds.” There was every kind of water bed you could imagine: different kinds of wood, different patterns of sheets; queen-size, king-size, emperor-of-the-universe-size.

Though his eyes twitched slightly, he didn’t seem to thrown off by my answer. "This is my most popular model." Crusty spread his hands proudly over a bed covered with black satin sheets, with built-in Lava Lamps on the headboard. The mattress vibrated, so it looked like oil-flavored Jell-O. "Million-hand massage," Crusty told us. "Go on, try it out. Shoot, take a nap. I don't care. No business today, any-way. And you kids look like you could a good rest.”

"Million-hand massage!" I pretended to cry, throwing out my arms to prevent Grover from diving in like it looked like he wanted to. I whirled around like I was going to throw myself backwards onto it, but uncapped Riptide as I spun and happily shoved it into the monster's belly. “We’ll try it after it’s safe tho.”

Crusty made a noise like a choked snarl, but the pressure on my sword dissolved and I knew he was dust.

“That went well.”

Annabeth recovered first and punched my shoulder hard enough to bruise. “You, Percy Jackson, are such a Seaweed Brain! Did you know he was a monster? Why did we even come in here? Gods, you’re annoying.”

“I think he’s cool!” Nico cut in cheekily.

Annabeth turned to glare at him slightly, making Bianca step between them.

I looked at the bulletin board behind Crusty's sales desk. There was an advertisement for Hermes Delivery Service, and another for the All-New Compendium of L.A. Area Monsters—"The only Monstrous Yellow Pages you'll ever need!" Under that, a bright orange flier for DOA Recording Studios, offering commissions for heroes' souls. "We are always looking for new talent!" DOA's address was right underneath with a map.

"Come on," I told my friends, turning around to cut their argument short. “I found a map!”

"Give us a minute," Grover complained, “you almost got us killed with that stunt!"

"Then you're ready for the Underworld," I said, knowing he wasn’t really all that mad at me. He was keeping Annabeth from punching me again at least. "It's only a block from here."

I was a bit surprised by the D.O.A Recording Studios looking like…well, an actual building. It fit right in with the rest of the block despite the fact that none of the mortals seemed to be able to look at it. Their heads would simply turn away or their eyes skip it.

The inside was an actual lobby, filled with hopefuls waiting for their turn. But instead of a record deal, it was a ferryman they were waiting for.

Χαρωπός was waiting for us when we opened the door. He looked like a normal man in an expensive suit at first glance, with a sloping forehead, wide nose and lips. His skin was a natural dark olive color. But his eyes gave him away. Instead of kohl, his eyes were lined in literal shadows that smoked around the edges of his hair. When he saw us come in, his skin became an almost translucent white.

“We would like a ride please,” I tell him with a smile that is too sharp to be friendly.

“Of course,” he whispers and his accent tinges on some of the words. He murmurs something under his breath, a set of glyphs forming in the smoke: 𓅱𓆑 𓄿𓃭𓃭 𓏏𓉔𓅂 𓎼𓅱𓂧𓋴.

As our ride is called, we are forced to shoo away some of the ghosts who are starting to float into our personal space. They look at us curiously, like someone you think might have been a friend once upon a time but you can’t quite place their face.

My insides cry to watch them wander as they do, not yet welcomed into the below. Bianca grabs my hand and squeezes as we step into the elevator.

“How long will they be here?” Nico is watching the ghosts with unblinking eyes but the ghoul refuses to look at him, despite not being in his direct line of sight.

“A thousand years perhaps, or until someone pays their toll.” The ferryman fixed his suit sleeves before shuffling us all inside the elevator. “No one has drachma anymore, but we evolve with the times. Credit cards, cash.” He shrugged as we started our descent. “But not everyone dies with their wallet on them.”

“That’s…” Annabeth looks like she’s sucked on a lemon.

The ferryman turned to her with a face slowly revealing the truth underneath, a simple skeleton with shadow holding it together, seeping between the bones and giving a humanoid shape to the suit. “Death isn’t fair, sweetheart. It just is, and like their time to come down here, it will arrive for everyone eventually.”

Bianca growled lowly as she reached over to my backpack, ripping open the smallest pouch to pull out the drachmas from Crusty. “You will ferry as many souls as this will buy and then you will speak to our father about a new system. The Underworld accepts all of Death’s children, no matter their faith or wealth.”

Despite how the world seems to warp around her, molding under her feet and flexing towards her fingertips, all she got in response was a sigh. “Rules are rules, my lady. No matter what we may wish for.”

The world shifted around us again and for a second I was sure it was Bianca, before the currents lapped at the sides of our boat and I felt the extra set of eyes on us. The Underworld might be a god, but the river was as much a goddess as he was the realm. She lived in his world, but she did not abide by any rules she did not wish to.

The oldest Oceanid also housed all the broken dreams of the dead who crossed her waters, polluted with trash and half memories that she shared with the Lesmosyne. I hiss as I watch a doll float by us, its hair dripping in pitch and clothes stained black. Only the plastic is unaffected, unbroken. If given the chance, I would spend a lifetime clearing it.

Maybe my stepmother would make an introduction? They are sisters, afterall.

The beach we are left on is made of black shale, crunching beneath our feet into even tinier shards. The ferryman doesn’t say anything as he moves back across, though one set of eyes remains on us.

I didn’t have time to think about whose.

“Who knew it would be so…modern,” Annabeth said as she turned to look at the entrance, drawing the rest of us back to reality as we also moved to face it.

Whatever I expected, it was not this. The entrance to the Underworld looked like a cross between airport security and the Jersey Turnpike. There's an ATTENDANT ON DUTY line which doesn’t appear to move despite wrapping around the beach for miles.

“Those waiting to be judged,” Nico said, his eyes almost glowing with a golden sheen as he looked them over.

The line next to it was moving much faster and was labeled, EZ DEATH. It was easy to figure out it was for those among the dead who didn;t wish to be judged, and led straight to the Asphodel Fields. The land of nothing, neutrality.

I scrunch my nose in disgust.

“Where’s Kérberos?” Grover asked as he started sniffing around, his hooves shifting nervously on the rocky ground. “I can’t even smell him, but he has to be guarding the entrance, right?”

Bianca tilts her head just this side of too far as she gazes out at something the rest of us can’t see. “You aren’t close enough to death yet, he is shrouded in the mist.” Grover visibly gulps when she turns to look at him. “Don’t worry, you’ll be able to see him soon enough.”

And with that ringing endorsement, we push forward.

Something that I have come to believe is that the women in my family are always right. Certainly my mother always was, even when she was wrong, and my stepmother seemed to be the same when I met her.

Bianca, though still just a kid, was keeping with that trend. The closer we got to the entrance, the more of its guardian we could see. A giant paw peeking through the mist, the sound of his growls carrying on wind that shouldn't exist.

Maybe it’s his breath, I thought and suddenly really wished I hadn’t.

Despite being connected to parts of my father’s realm, I was not of it as my cousins were and I had no guarantee of safety here. Perhaps if it were winter and my half-sister were on her throne…but it was the middle of summer and she was spending her time above with the mother who had been removed from her own throne.

And then all at once, he stood before us with dozens of eyes and a hundred rows of teeth, paws stationed on either side of the two lines while his body towered over them with enough room for even the tallest of spirits to walk underneath him, arms raised above their heads, without ever touching his belly. For a creature named ‘Spot’, he was lacking in any color aside from brown. The earth tones in his fur appeared only around his mouth and chest, the rest of his body only differentiated from the dark mist around him by how solid he is.

“He’s a Rottweiler!” Annabeth gasped, clearly warring with her innate urges to run and hide, and the bone deep instinct to immediately start petting him and calling him a good boy. Was I projecting? Maybe.

Bianca has no such reservations and almost skips over to him with her hands raised so he can sniff at them with two of his heads. Instead, ten of them immediately start giving her gentle licks and blocking a few of the others from doing the same, while the ones furthest away keep watching. “Whose a good boy? Doing such a good job protecting them, aren’t you!”

Two more heads joined the fight for her protection while five turned to look out at the rest of us with a hard stare.

With his sister clearly allowing puppy loves, Nico bolted before I could grab him and launched himself at one of the dogs legs to hug him. His arms didn’t go all the way around. “Hello! You are so cool!”

Instead of licking him like they did his sister, a few of the heads who had lost the fight for the right to Bianca started snuffling at him curiously like he had treats and they were trying to figure out where they were. The only reason he wasn’t stumbling from the force of the guardian’s breath was the fact that he was surrounded.

Grover shuffled forward slightly and opened his mouth to say something, but the rest of the heads who had been watching their surroundings snapped to glare at him and let out a mix of growls and barred teeth. “Um…he said…”

“That’s not nice,” Bianca chastised him and crossed her arms, almost mimicking my mother perfectly with her upturned chin and disappointed stare. The noises she made shouldn’t have been possible, but from the way the guardian immediately lied down and whined at her, it was effective.

Grover just stared at her in wonder, while Annabeth looked between them for a second before clearly coming to a decision.

She pulled a rubber ball out of her bag that I hadn’t seen her grab before and started to march forward with a determined expression that matched the one she had before Capture the Flag. “Do you want the ball? Do you want the ball?” She didn’t flinch as she stopped a few feet away from Bianca, her eyes never leaving the heads who had turned to look at her with interest. “No biting. Gentle.” Then she tossed the thing to one of the heads on the left side, which hadn’t had a chance to interact yet.

Apparently rubber balls were good enough that she was immediately treated to doggy kisses much like Bianca. Both girls started giggling and petting as many heads as they could reach, agreeing that they wished they had more hands.

I don’t think Annabeth saw the shadows that reached out from behind Bianca to rub even more of the beasts noses.

Nico bounded over to us despite clearly wanting to join in with his sister, and grabbed our hands. “Come on, he’ll let you through now that he knows you’re safe!”

“What do you mean us through? Are you not coming?” Annabeth asked uncertainly, eyes sweeping between the siblings.

They both glanced at each other before turning back to us and I already know what they are going to say. “He doesn’t get a chance to be payed with a lot. With so many dead to take care of, our…no one is able to visit him,” Bianca explained as she wrapped the shadows around herself gently.

“We’ll meet you back here, alright? And if something goes wrong, we’ll meet up outside. Do you remember how to send an iris message?” I can’t help but feel I’ll never see them again if we seperate, but I wouldn’t want to see my father for the first time like this either. I’m not even sure I would have wanted to meet him, given the chance.

With a plan to find each other again in place, I hugged both of them as tightly as I could. My ribs creaked against Bianca’s arms but she didn’t comment on my snuffly nose, so I figured we were even. Nico hugged all of us and bounced around the guardian’s heads happily.

“See you later! Addio!”

The walk through Asphodel Fields isn;t something I even want to remember. My brain almost forcefully ejected all memories of it as soon as we were free. All I could remember were black trees popping out of the ground in amost a grid pattern, something to break up the grass and schwelching mud under our feet.

The Fields of Punishment as they had come to be called were almost better, emphasis on the almost. They burn with rivers of lava and minefields and miles of barbed wire separating the different torture areas. Trees drooping with fruit a man is never allowed to eat, a rock rolling up a hill only to fall down again, a woman carrying body after body to the graves she has dug for them over and over again.

Annabeth and Grover refuse to look, and he almost looks like he’s going to throw up right there if we don’t get away from the screams.

It’s horrible how big many punishments there are, compared to the one bright spot in the distance. The land of Elysium, a lovely community gated against the rest of the realm, featuring beautiful houses from every period in history, Roman villas and medieval castles and Victorian mansions.

If the Fields of punishment were a city, the Fields of Asphodel a country, the land of heroes was a town. And within it, a glistening lake with water that revealed an endless bottom, and three islands. At most, there must have been a thousand people.

My half sister had made the land of heroes for those who did good in their lives, who strived to help others. But so, so many didn’t do enough. Or the bad canceled out the good. With the world the way it was, sometimes I wondered if simply being born in the wrong country automatically set you behind on the scales.

I shook myself free of my morbid thoughts as we finally caught sight of obsidian towers in the distance, reaching above the mist as a marker of the palace. “We’re almost there,” I whisper gratefully.

“You’ll jinx us,” Annabeth warned sharply but she too looked like she would rather face a god than stay in the fields a second longer.

Grover didn’t have time to respond before his shoes grew wings without his command and started dragging him forward. “Aaaaaahhhhh! Maia! Miaia!” he cried desperately, trying to sit up enough to kick them off.

In the second it takes to process what’s happening, we lose valuable distance. “Shit, Grover!” I call out as I start full on sprinting. If the ground reaches up to buoy by steps, if rocks move out of our way, no one has to know.

All I can see is his flailing arms reaching out for purchase that doesn’t appear. He flew not towards the palace, but towards the thickest part of the mist that was billowing out from a cave. He was too far away for either of us to grab.

Annabeth was keeping up with me apart through sheer force of will and I would have been terrified if I wasn't right next to her.

The cave widened into a huge chasm, a pit the size of a city block that felt wrong. The air tasted of sulfur and blood, and the ground beneath our feet shifted from earth to something else entirely. It felt like it was breathing.

Alive.

Grover slammed into a rock the size of his head, his grip on it barely enough to keep him in place. But the force must have knocked one of the sneakers loose as it wiggles free and dived directly down into the pit. He lost his grip, but he was moving much slower now.

I dived for his hand, not caring of the shale that embedded itself into my arms as I slid forward. His hand was in mine and that was all that mattered as I pulled the two of us back, snarling at something I couldn't see but knew was watching.

Annabeth landed on her knees next to us, slicing the shoelaces off with her knife. “Let's go,” she demanded as if she could feel what I felt. like it wasn't all in my head.

We started dragging a wheezing Grover away from the edge, his body limp in our hands as he tried to recover.

My backpack was made of lead, my tired muscles unable to hold it.

“We have to keep going. That pit…” Annabeth shuddered as she dragged us both forwards and away. “That's the entrance.”

Maybe she was picking up on my refusal to name things, to give them that power, but her words were enough all the same. The Primordial Prison.

As I realized what it was, a voice whispered a chant that followed us as we fled. The words seemed to wrap around our feet and curl around our ears, dragging us back the way we came. Back towards oblivion.

“Keep going,” I urged them as I brought out the only weapon I had, a weapon of the sea. Riptide gleamed even in the dark, and something about it must have made the thing pause as the whispering paused before changing faster. I slammed my feet harder into whatever was under our feet, trying to call forth something from it to protect my friends.

The pit inhaled just as I jumped for the entrance of the cave, the earth beneath me once more. I snarled as whatever was trying to pull us in roared.

We didn't move, didn't breathe for a minute, as it set in what we just escaped.

“Let's go,” Annabeth finally broke the silence, grabbing our hands. We walked away from Hell together.

The palace seemed to be carved from the very bedrock of the world, as if the entire thing was once one piece of stone that was molded into what it is now. Parts of recent belief peek through with scenes of gruesome deaths portrayed on every surface, from tapestries to gates.

Even Nestis’s garden was changed to reflect wealth, with flowers made of jewels covering the deadly plants beneath. The Queen seemed to have a sense of humor though as the center of her garden houses a stately pomegranate tree, its branches almost touching the ground with the weight of the plump fruit it housed.

I pulled Grover away quickly.

We found the Underworld sitting on his throne, waiting for us. He was the third god I'd met, but the first who really struck me as godlike. He was at least ten feet tall, for one thing, and dressed in black silk robes and a crown of braided gold. He lounged on his throne of fused human bones, looking lithe, graceful, and dangerous as a panther.

But the part that stood out to me the most as godly was the body underneath his robes, formed of what appeared to be tar constantly flowing and dripping down to the floor. His face was only sort of human, with solid white eyes and razor teeth that shouldn’t have been able to fit into his mouth that crackled when he spoke.

“I am disappointed, Percy Jackson.” He tilts his head like Nico. “I thought you would have been smarter, after meeting your mother. A lovely woman, but perhaps blind to the truth of the child she attempted to raise.”

I have to hold back a hiss at the thought of my mother, her eyes wide and a silent scream on her face when she disappeared. I want her back so badly. But getting angry won’t fix anything, and if Hades wants to act like a man I will treat him like one. “I have not come to accuse you of theft, Uncle.” I ignore Annabeth tensing next to me. “I came to ask if you have any information on who the thief might have been.”

His laugh is bitter and sharp. “Don’t you know, nephew? You must have spoken when you retrieved the bolt from them.” His eyes shift from my face to over my shoulder. “Afterall, it’s in that bag you’ve so callously brought before me.”

Two things happen at once, in complete contradiction to each other. I froze in place as my mind caught on a single thought, the god of war handing me a stolen weapon and directing me to accuse another. I felt numb. Still. And yet at the same time, the ground started to shake dangerously as if roaring out in anger.

The Underworld didn’t seem upset that his body was being shaken. “I wonder, child, if you are so stupid as to be a thief, and then even more so to come before me with the evidence, or if you are only a pawn in someone else’s game.” He raises an arm to wave at something, while his hands remain on his throne. I do not have the thought to count his limbs. “Either way, I offer you a deal in respect of my brother.”

A figure sleepily stepped out of the dark, her eyes closed against tanned skin and freshly braided hair. My mother almost glided over to the throne, where she stood in a thick sweater I had never seen before and jeans.

The earth continued to shake and some of the stalactites broke from the ceiling to crash around us.

“If you retrieve my helm of darkness from the thief, either from your friend or chess master, I will return her, unharmed, once it is in my hands. Do you understand, Perseus?”

I snarled at his easy bartering of her as if I didn’t want to lunge into her arms and never leave. But my feet wouldn’t move.

Annabeth tugged on my hands, in the wrong direction. “Percy, we need to go. We’re going to be impaled if we stay any longer.”

“Go if you must, but leave the bolt.” His eyes never leave me, as if Annabeth and Grover do not exist. “It will be returned to its rightful owner.”

I snapped my teeth at him instead of speaking, unsure of what would come out if I tried. I pulled out the pearls my stepmother had given me, handing one to Annabeth and Grover each. Only to find that there was only one left, one for me.

“Percy! We have to go!”

“Guards!”

There isn’t time. I sent an apology to my mother. I turn to the entrance of the palace and hope that my cousins will make it out.

The pearl smashes at my feet in time with the others. I leave my family behind as the Underworld shakes from the force of my rage, and now Adesius’s.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #something this way comes #feral percy

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Twelve: I Meet The Result of One of My Uncle’s Many Mistakes

When the train pulled into Denver it was June 14th and we were running out of time to find the bolt. We only had a week left, no way to get the rest of the way west, and we hadn’t showered in days. We looked like homeless kids, because despite me being able to change into other clothes that hadn’t been lit on fire, I was still dirty.

Annabeth asked if we could stop to send a message to camp, so we ended up at a car washing station where she showed me how to send an “IM” through a rainbow. I really didn’t enjoy invoking the name of a goddess, but the coin aspect made sense.

She had an awkward conversation with Luke, before we headed to the closest diner to get something to eat. We didn't have much money left after our train ride and eating from the dining car, so we had to pool our money together on the table to get twenty dollars between us.

The waitress walked over to us with a raised eyebrow looking at the collection of change and small bills we had spread over the table. “Is this all you got?”

Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger.

I glared at the waitress for her comment and was about to snap back at her when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb.

All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like...well, Caucasian human skin.

The god that swung off the bike was unlike anything I had imagined when meeting one. The Lord of Madness made sense, he was cut off from his element and forced to be in constant contact with mortals. But this one made my skin crawl and my claws came out unintentionally. To say the least, he walked and talked and breathed like an apex predator, knowing that everything around him was only there because he allowed it to be.

A-re, my brain helpfully provided and for a moment his form flickered to a warrior in full armor*, the metal plating lined with dark red leather and heavy stitching as the metal laid over itself to create a tube of metal protecting him.

Our eyes met and he nodded slowly, before returning to what he was. He moved slowly through the doors of the diner and the stench of blood was all over him, as well as the feelings of anger I always tried to keep a tight lock on. Grover grabbed my arm while Annabeth put her foot over mine under the table.

“Get them whatever they’d like, it’s on me,” he grumbled as he slid into the booth next to Annabeth. She immediately slid under the table to join us on our side, boxing me in and preventing me from doing anything stupid. He raised an eyebrow over his glasses as the waitress gaped at him. "Are you still here?"

I was digging my claws into my leg just enough to keep my mind clear despite whatever he was doing to me. “Hello, my lord.”

“You know who I am, little cousin, good for you. Respect will keep you alive if it’s aimed at the right people.” He tilted his head slightly as he sized me up, ignoring the other two. “I wonder how long you’ll take to break, I can already smell your blood.”

Annabeth grabbed my hands and ripped them away from my legs, glaring at me in a way that reminded me of when she threw me into the train. The god laughed at us, leaning back in a way that was almost lounging.

The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes.

Our money was swiped up and dropped onto the now empty tray, along with a few bigger bills that looked like it might have been the right amount, but it was sort of fuzzy to look at. The waitress walked away quickly, glancing back at us in concern.

“I want to make a deal with you, little cousin,” the god declared and pulled a knife to start picking at his nails. “I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town, when I was on a date with my girl, and I need you to fetch it for me. In exchange, I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know too. Something about your mom."

"My mom?"

He grinned and I bit my tongue since Annabeth had an iron grip on my hands. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride."

I wanted to ask what interrupted his date with who I assumed to be the goddess of war, the one history tried to erase, but he waved his hand and in a blink he was gone. I growled in frustration and ripped my hands away from Annabeth, careful not to hurt her, and started sulkily sipping on a milkshake.

"Not good," Grover said. "He offered a deal, gods don’t do that. Ever. Which means whatever’s over there is bad.” He shuddered.

I glanced out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared. “We have to take the deal, don’t we?” I growled again as I started tearing into the food. Growing up like I did, I hated wasted food and I knew that this would all be thrown out if we didn’t eat it and just because I was angry wasn’t a good reason not to eat.

"Yeah, we do. Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annabeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes."

“Weren’t you the one telling me I had to be respectful?” I raised an eyebrow at her as she threw a fry at me, which I dodged, and Grover caught in his mouth before moving to the other side of the booth. “Eat something.” I sounded like my mom, but I didn’t really care. Becoming Sally Jackson wasn’t the worst thing I could do with my life.

WATERLAND was a horrible date spot. It didn’t matter if you were a godly biker who drove over people for fun or the most posh goddess in the world, I couldn’t imagine anyone enjoying their time there. It was completely abandoned from what we could see, with the sign falling apart to the point it looked like WATRAD. If anyone still came here, it was to skate in the empty pools or to vandalize everything. I mean, what else do you do in a place like this?

“So how are we getting in? Does anyone see any holes or locks cut?” I went to look around the gate to see how other people were getting in, but Grover just flew over the fence on his shoes and did a flip midair. I rolled my eyes at him through the fence and he just grinned back.

"You guys coming?"

Annabeth and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top.

The names of the rides were even weird, like AnkleBiterIsland, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? I frowned as we looked around, trying to understand the appeal of it.

“Why would they come to a place like this for a date? I mean, if you're taking someone out you should go somewhere nice.”

Annabeth raised her eyebrows. “Like you know anything about dating or taking a girl out.”

“My neighbor got taken out a lot and she always told my mom where she was going, as like a safety thing I guess? I don't know. And it was always better than whatever this is.”.

“They have to do it in secret, you know? Cause she's married.” Grover looked over at us when we stopped. “What? I was answering the original question!”

“I know she's married. To the Coppersmith right?” Annabeth nodded so I continued my question. “Why does that mean they have to meet in secret though? It's rather obvious at this point that it's happening.”

“It's big gossip every time they're caught, it's sort of a game for the other gods to figure out where they're meeting and make a big deal out of it.” Grover scrunched his nose in disgust. “I hate that I know that.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes before freezing again, turning towards a ramshackle building that looked nuts like the rest except for a big sign that said GIF HOP above the doorway. “Clothes. Fresh clothes.”

Grover went to protest but we were already running inside to see if there was anything we could snag. It looked like the shelves hadn't been touched despite all of the illegal visitors and it was clear to see why. Everything was either flower print or a really ugly red, and all of it had the park logo somewhere.

But to kids whose shirts almost crunched? Yeah, we really didn't care. Even Grover threw on a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, though he didn't grab as much as the two of us did.

I tried the register but it was already emptied of cash and anything valuable except the coins. Not worth it.

We found where the gods' items were completely by accident. I was running away from Annabeth—who was totally trying to kill me for no reason, Grover is a liar, I didn't start it—when I caught the scent of something old. Older than even my dad.

“Stop.” I didn't want to look, didn't want to find out what was there, but I had to look. I didn't know a smell could make me see a hero slaughtering thousands after his love was killed in battle, I didn't know I could feel so weak and still stay standing. I walked over to the edge of the ride, a big pool that had been empty for years, and there inside it was not a monster or a god.

It was just one of the boats with a little umbrella attached, and the god of war’s shield.

I thought I was hallucinating and that this quest was getting to me, but then I saw the shimmering material next to the shield that looked like water frozen in time into a shawl.

“I’m going down there. This might be a trap, so Grover you have to stay up here. You’ve got the fancy shoes, the Red Baron. If anything goes wrong, you need to bail us out, man.” Something was going to go wrong, I could feel it.

Annabeth looked like she was really mad about the idea, but offered to come with me. “You better hope no one sees us.”

“Who's’s going to see us?” I asked, glancing at Grover who shrugged. Girls.We scrambled down the edge of pool as best we could without hurting ourselves, before making our way over to the boat warily. This close, I was starting to get nauseous from power the two items were throwing off and I went for the war god’s shield first. Thankfully it shrunk to be a manageable size once it was on my arm. “Can you get the shawl thing?”

“What? Not interested in the love magic?” She was teasing me and I knew it, but I just shook my head and focused on trying not to throw up.

Then Annabeth swore and I knew we were in trouble.

I was right. As it turns out, being in the middle of a godly argument means getting attacked by thousands of mechanical spiders and having to figure out a way not to get killed by them. Annabeth was no use because of the whole deal with her mom, but somehow we ended up okay afterwards.

However, I was mad. And when I’m mad, I get reckless. And probably a little stupid.

The war god was waiting for us in the diner parking lot, leaning against his bike. Weirdly, there was as a Hello Kitty backpack by his feet, but it wasn't enough to distract me.

“Good, you didn't die. I was starting to worry about your competence.”

“It was a trap.”

“It was trapped, there's a difference. My dear dear brother doesn't like people touching his ladies things and provides her with toys to keep them safe.” He shrugged. “I only asked you for the sheild. You could have left it.”

I growled at him and he growled right back, two predators glaring at each other but neither willing to make the first move. “Here's your shield,” I snapped, shoving it into his chest.

Annabeth and Grover caught their breath.

The god grabbed his shield and spun it in the air like pizza dough. It changed form, melting into a bulletproof vest. He slung it across his back. “Good doing business with you, cousin,” he said. He pointed to an eighteen-wheeler parked across the street from the diner. "That's your ride. Take you straight to L.A., with one stop in Vegas."

The eighteen-wheeler had a sign on the back, which I could read only because it was reverse-printed white on black, a good combination for dyslexia: KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL: HUMANE ZOO TRANSPORT. WARNING: LIVE WILD ANIMALS.

I said, "You're kidding."

“If you don't like it, you can always find your own way west. Don't be a punk,” he warned as he stepped forward slightly.

I was proud of the fact that Grover moved more behind me but not backwards.

“And because I’m nice and you had to deal with one of my brother's traps, I got you a gift. Something extra for all your hard work.” His smile was off though, like he didn't quite believe what he was saying. He tossed us the Hello Kitty backpack.

Inside were fresh clothes for all of us, twenty bucks in cash, a pouch full of golden drachmas, and a bag of Double Stuf Oreos.

I said, "I don't want your lousy—"

"Thank you, Lord Ares," Grover interrupted, giving me his best red-alert warning look. "Thanks a lot."

I looked back at the diner, which had only a couple of customers now. The waitress who'd served us dinner was watching nervously out the window, like she was afraid the god might hurt us. It was nice that someone was concerned about us for a change. She dragged the fry cook out from the kitchen to see and said something to him. He nodded, held up a little disposable camera and snapped a picture of us.

Great, I thought. We'll make the papers again tomorrow.

The god didn't stick a round to chat, simply revved his Harley, then roared off down Delancy Street.

Annabeth said, "That was not smart, Percy."

“I know.”

“You're usually less…upset than this.”

Usually you aren't in danger because of me, I thought.

"Hey, guys," Grover said. "I hate to interrupt, but ..."

He pointed toward the diner. At the register, the last two customers were paying their check, two men in identical black coveralls, with a white logo on their backs that matched the one on the KINDNESS INTERNATIONAL truck.

"If we're taking the zoo express," Grover said, "we need to hurry."

I hated it, but it really was our only option.

I don’t know how I didn’t notice the smell until we were a few feet away. Maybe it was the lingering stench of blood overpowering everything else, but even a god’s scent shouldn’t have covered it up.

A few floors down from one of our first apartments was this old cat lady, the mother of our landlord I think, who collected cats like some people collected stamps. She might have been part of the reason we were able to afford the place, because even floors away you could still smell the kitty litter from all her cats, that she never cleaned because she was too old to bend down like that.

I honestly wasn’t sure if the truck or her apartment was worse.

Annabeth and Grover couldn’t see at first, not until Annabeth pulled out a flashlight from the bag.

But I was forced to look at the row of filthy metal cages the whole time.

They were filled with three of the most pathetic zoo animals I’d ever seen. A zebra, a male albino lion, and some weird antelope thing. Each of them had been given the wrong kind of food with the lon glaring at a bag of turnips and the other two avoiding plates of hamberger meat as much as they could n the tight space they were given.

The zebra's mane was matted with chewing gum, like somebody had been spitting on it in their spare time. The antelope had a stupid silver birthday balloon tied to one of his horns that read OVER THE HILL!

Grover was practically vibrating in anger but terrifyingly, I couldn’t actually scent anything over the smell of the animals. “This…this…”

The trucks engine roared to life and the trailer started shaking, which was probably the only thing that kept the truck drivers from being beaten to death wth reed pipes while I watched.

“We need to free them,” Annabeth said in what was almost a growl. She started looking through her bag, maybe for a lock picking set. She was friends with a child of the Trickster.

While Grover was trying to get the animals to talk to him, it was apparently up to me to be Annabeth’s common sense. I hated it. “We can’t do anything until the truck stops. They’re safer in the cages for now.”

She tried to growl again but maybe she was just pouting.

I used the sword Chiron gave me to switch the food around and gave them some water, which seemed to help their mood. Grover at least seemed to be making progress after that, and we were able to get rid of the stupid balloon.

Grover kicked at a turnip sack until it resembled something he was happy with and then curled up a bit like a dog.

Annabeth was nibbling on our supply of food but didn’t seem ready to try sleeping quite yet. “I’m sorry I freaked out at the waterpark. Spiders…anyway, thank you for helping.”

"We're a team, remember?" I said. "Besides, Grover did the fancy flying."

I thought he was asleep, but he mumbled from the corner, "I was pretty amazing, wasn't I?"

Annabeth and I laughed.

She handed me one of the oreos she’d been hoarding, both of us just letting the silence happen with the only break happening when Grover started snoring lightly.

"So if the gods fight," I asked, curious about her answer after everything, "will that affect things at camp?"

Annabeth shrugged. “The cabins will probably follow whatever their parents do.” She put her head against the backpack had given us, and closed her eyes. "I just know I'll fight next to you."

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends, Seaweed Brain.”

I leaned back against my own turnip bag and I just knew I had the stupidest smile on my face.

Apparently our bonding the night before didn’t stop Annabeth from shaking me awake roughly, glaring at me like I was being difficult. “They’re coming to check on the animals, hide!”And then she put on her Yankee’s cap.

Grover and I scrambled to hide behind the turnips and feed sacks, hoping the truckers were stupid enough to think we looked like turnips.

One of the truckers came in grumbliing about how he wished he had a different job, and poured water in the animals dishes. I was about to give this one a bit of leeway in my head, but then he dumped the rest of the water on the lion who looked even more pathetic half drowned.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," the man said when the poor thing roared. It only got worse from there as he continued abusing the animals, threatening the zebra with it’s fate.

I knew that my father is the Lord of horses, but until the moment the zebra talked to me I didn't realize the relationship was close enough that I could understand him. I tried to send good vibes his way so he’d stay calm.

Then something weird happened. The two truckers got into an argument and the one apparently named Maurice wandered back outside.

Annabeth appeared a second later looking like she was ready for murder, which was probably the expression on all our faces to be honest. “This is illegal, we have to free the animals. Now.”

“The lion says they're being smuggled!” Grover was turning red with rage.

I didn't need any more motivation. I extended my claws and sliced apart the locks on the zebra and antelope’s cages. I was moving to the lion’s when Grover’s scent sparked with something wild, like a forest after it rains. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

Before he could respond, the doors to the truck opened back up just in time for the zebra and antelope to leap over their heads. “Woah!” one of them cried as he fell backwards onto his butt while the other turned around to start chasing it.

Other people started yelling and cars honked as the animals probably ran right into traffic. I grinned at the thought of the chaos as I turned around to free the lion. “Be safe,” I told him, and watched as he joined the other two in running rampant in Las Vegas.

“I blessed them wth sanctuary,” Grover said. "Meaning they'll reach the wild safely. They'll find water, food, shade, whatever they need until they find a safe place to live."

"Why can't you place a blessing like that on us?" I asked, only sort of jokingly.

"It only works on wild animals."

"So it would only affect Percy," Annabeth reasoned.

I probably shouldn’t have laughed at that, but the grin she sent me was worth it.

We just wandered for a little while, not really sure what we were looking for but knowing we couldn’t think when it was a hundred and ten degrees. We passed the Monte Carlo and the MGM. We passed pyramids, a pirate ship, and the Statue of Liberty, which was a pretty small replica, but still made me homesick.

We must have taken a wrong turn, because we found ourselves at a dead end, standing in front of the Lotus Hotel and Casino. The entrance was a huge neon flower, the petals lighting up and blinking. No one was going in or out, but the glittering chrome doors were open.

A doorman seemed to notice us looking and wandered over. “It’s not safe to be out here in the heat like this, why don’t you kids come inside where it’s safer?”

My nose might have been slightly clogged by the stench coming off the three of us, but I could still tell the guy was human. I glanced at Grover to confirm though and only went in when he immediately stepped forward to get closer to the air conditioning. “Thank you.”

“No problem, just make your way inside.”

The second we stepped inside, our jaws dropped. The whole lobby was a giant game room. And I'm not talking about cheesy old Pac-Man games or slot machines. There was an indoor waterslide snaking around the glass elevator, which went straight up at least forty floors. There was a climbing wall on the side of one building, and an indoor bungee-jumping bridge. There were virtual-reality suits with working laser guns. And hundreds of video games, each one the size of a widescreen TV. There were waitresses and snack bars all around, serving every kind of food you can imagine.

One of the staff members seemed to notice us and started heading our way. I was worried for a second that we were going to be kicked out, but he just held out three room keys. “Wecome to the Lotus Hotel and Casino, we’re so glad you chose to stay with us?

"Hey!" a bellhop said. At least I guessed he was a bellhop. He wore a white-and-yellow Hawaiian shirt with lotus designs, shorts, and flip-flops. "Welcome to the Lotus Casino. Here's your room key."

I stammered, "Um, but..."

"No, no," he said, laughing. "The bill's taken care of. No extra charges, no tips. Just go on up to the top floor, loom 4001. If you need anything, like extra bubbles for the hot tub, or skeet targets for the shooting range, or whatever, just call the front desk. Here are your LotusCash cards. They work in the restaurants and on all the games and rides."

He handed us each a green plastic credit card.

I knew this was either one of the gods giving us a hand or a case of mistaken identity, but I took the card and said, "How much is on here?" instead of questioning it more. This place was safe. Normal. We could stay here a while.

His eyebrows knit together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, when does it run out of cash?"

He laughed. "Oh, you're making a joke. Hey, that's cool. Enjoy your stay."

Annabeth looked like she wanted to ask more questions but I pulled her to the elevator with a reminder that most hotel rooms and showers.

"Oh, goodness," Annabeth said. "This place is ..."

"Sweet," Grover said. "Absolutely sweet."

We quickly made our way into the bathrooms and washed off a week’s worth of dirt, sweat, and monster dust. They also had a washer and dryer for some reason, which I started using to clean all of our stuff.

“You know how to do laundry?” Annabeth asked, clearly confused. When I gave her a look that clearly told her how ridiculous I thought she was for not knowing, she turned back to the National Geographic channel. “My dad had a maid that came once a week to do chores!”

“You grew up rich.” Because of course she did. I sighed and turned to look at Grover who was just lounging on his bed. “You two are so boring.”

“What else are we supposed to do?”

Grover and I looked at each other and grinned. We both held up our green plastic LotusCash cards.

"Play time," I sang cheekily.

I will admit to being distracted by the games. Growing up on only my mom’s income, there wasn’t a lot of opportunity for us to do fun things. The best we could do was our few days in Montauk and a night out at a restaurant instead of making something at home.

But when I was passing by the card game area and my instincts screamed, I snapped out of whatever fog I was in. I took a deep breath trying to focus and my head snapped of its own accord to a table towards the back where the shadows fell around a small boy with dark hair and an older kid with his hands basically ripping out what hair he had that wasn’t buzzed.

“You know I’ve won, so why don’t you just admit it?” the boy asked with a big smile on his face. “It’s okay, you can try again later if you’d like.” His scent was a mix of herbs, wool, and something that made me feel cold. But most of all he smelled like me, like family. Like something old.

I don’t know how long I was there, frozen, as I watched this kid destroy dozens of people in whatever game they were playing, but it was long enough that someone new came along and she carried with her a scent that reminded me of my mom. Everything inside me screamed MINE. I was just going to go over to them and try to talk, but they both turned to look at me when I stepped forward, their eyes turning completely black to match my own.

The boy’s head tilted at almost an impossible angle, like an owls, while who must have been his sister stepped forward without a sound. And then she scented me, moving slowly closer until we were almost nose to nose, her eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

With her so close I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward and rubbed her nose with my own, a gesture I had picked up from my mom since she used to do it to me when I was younger. I relaxed when she did it back.

SLAP! “What the hell?” She stepped away from me and shook her head like she was coming out of a daze.

Her brother came over to stand with us and I instinctively reached over to scratch at his hair, and he purred with his eyes falling shut almost instantly. He sort of looked like one of the stray cats I’d seen wandering around. After a moment he pulled away to stand by his sister, turning wide eyes to her. “I like him, can we keep him?”

“We don’t know who he is!”

“I’m Percy,” I said helpfully and ignored her glare. “Sorry about that, usually I have more control than that. I swear I don’t just randomly start acting like that to strangers, you just…”

“Feel familiar. Safe.” The girl was frowning as she said it, but she also relaxed so I figured I wasn’t going to get slapped again any time soon. “Did our father send you? You aren’t like the lawyer he usually sends.”

I felt my stomach drop as I watched the shadows slip further away, like the tide calming with my mood. I didn’t inherit the more death-related parts of my father’s domains, but I was as much a child of the underworld as my godly sister. And like recognized like, didn’t it? “No, he didn’t. But I think my dad might have led me to you.”

They don’t keep secrets, the goddess had said.

What was I supposed to do now?

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #something this way comes #feral percy

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Eleven: Annabeth Gets Dibs On Murdering Me

Things were pretty awkward for the first day we were on the train. While Annabeth seemed to slowly be coming to terms with what I was, I was trying to find a way to forgive her for how she’d reacted. While I understood why she was so upset at first, the fact that she was taking so long to process it made me feel like maybe I had put more stock in the friendship we had at camp then she had.

“Athena kids tend to be super logical and you just…aren’t. You basically took everything she knew about the world and threw it out the window. She cares, she just…doesn’t know how to show it.” Grover was trying to be the middle man, but with how tense and anxious we were it wasn’t doing anything to help.

That tourist that had taken a picture of me had sent it to the news and it didn’t really look good for me. I was hunching slightly like a trapped animal and my eyes were wild as I glared at the camera. My claws had retracted for the most part so it just looked like I had those fake nails people’d get, but my eyes hadn’t reverted back. Instead of being black, the Mist made them bloodshot and half crazed. Honestly? I looked like I was on a drug trip and taking everyone else down with me.

"Don't worry," Annabeth told me in one of the moments she was talking to me. Most of the time her nose was in a book. "Mortal police could never find us."

Our reward money for returning Gladiola the poodle had only been enough to purchase tickets as far as Denver and the rest of the money wouldn’t cover enough for all three of us to go any further. But it did get us a single sleeper car which gave us some privacy away from the mortals. I tried not to drool while taking my naps, since Annabeth was sitting right next to me. Grover was on the top bunk, his little way of trying to get us to talk.

"So," Annabeth asked me once she realized I was awake, "who wants your help?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you were asleep just now, you mumbled, 'I won't help you.' Who were you dreaming about?"

I flinched as I flashed back to that image of the trench. This time whatever was in there had dangled me mother in front of me, showing me her image floating there in the water, and offered to bring her back. I didn’t really want to say anything, but if a child of the patron of Athens offers you an olive branch, you take it. “Someone wants something from me. They keep showing me this trenchdown at the bottom of the ocean, or at least I think that it’s them. The details get fuzzy when I wake up. But they want the master bolt.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, it doesn't sound like Hades. He always appears on a black throne in the underworld.” Part of me wanted to question when she’d been visited by the lord of the underworld, but I figured she had read it in a book somewhere.

I shrugged. “I don’t think it was him either.” I told her all the details I could remember about my dreams, her face getting more scrunched the longer I talked.

"I guess...if he meant, 'Help me rise from the Underworld.' If he wants war with the Olympians. But why ask you to bring him the master bolt if he already has it?"

"I don't know. I really don't think it's him, but we don't have any other options."

Her hand crept up to her necklace. She fingered a glazed white bead painted with the image of a pine tree, one of her clay end-of-summer tokens. "You can't be tempted to make a deal for your mom, no matter whose offering. Hades would never let a soul leave the underworld."

"What would you do if it was your dad?"

"That's easy," she said. "I'd leave him to rot."

I frowned. "You're not serious?"

Annabeth's gray eyes fixed on me. She wore the same expression she'd worn in the woods at camp, the moment she drew her sword against the hellhound. "My dad's resented me since the day I was born, Percy," she said. "He never wanted a baby. When he got me, he asked Athena to take me back and raise me on Olympus because he was too busy with his work. She wasn't happy about that. She told him heroes had to be raised by their mortal parent."

“You were a brain child, he didn’t think a baby was an option,” I reasoned before realizing that it didn’t come out the way I wanted it to. “But he was your dad, he never should have tried to give you back.”

She gave me a weak smile for and for a minute, we just sat there in silence. Then she huffed and moved so our shoulders could bump. She told me about how her mother had sent her down to her father as this sort of miracle child act. “When I was five he got married and totally forgot about Athena. He got a 'regular' mortal wife, and had two 'regular' mortal kids, and tried to pretend I didn't exist." Annabeth kept worrying at her necklace. She was pinching the gold college ring that hung with the beads. It occurred to me that the ring must be her father's. I wondered why she wore it if she hated him so much.

"He doesn't care about me," she said. "His wife—my stepmom—treated me like a freak. She wouldn't let me play with her children. She made it clear I wasn’t wanted and Dad…just let her.”

“I’m sorry. Step-parents can really suck if you don’t get a good one.”

Annabeth nodded and immediately changed the subject. “I’m sorry that I didn’t react well to you being different. You didn’t have to tell me and you saved our butts. I can take one Kindly One, but three?” I could tell her pride was wounded by admitting that I even did anything, but I appreciated the effort. “Do you mind if I ask questions?"

"You've been wanting to interrogate me about it since you saw me transform, haven't you?" I felt a little bit like an interesting science experiment from how she looked at me.

"I don't understand you or how your powers work and…" that scares her, I realized even though she didn't finish that sentence. "You don't have to answer anything, you can go back to pacing the train or I can read again if you want." Except she clearly didn't want me to. She was doing a good job of hiding it, but her scent made me feel like I was locked in my room. Alone. Hoping someone else would open that door cause I was too scared to do it myself. Was I projecting? You'd have to ask one of the many therapists schools threw at me over the years.

"I've always been different to normal kids, not just the ADHD or the dyslexia. My scales have always been a part of me, and so have my extra teeth—"

"What?"

"I have two rows. One for normal stuff and the other for meat, like a shark?"

Annabeth's eyes widened and for a second I was worried that she was going to stick her hands in my mouth and make me show her. "Do you eat a lot of meat then? Do you eat fish?"

I relaxed when I realized my jaw was safe. "Fish, yeah, though it was awkward when I started being able to understand them better. Mostly my mom just buys some at the grocery store, but every once in a while I'll go hunt some of the invasive species nearby. Mussels and things like that."

"What about your claws? How to they work?”

“Sort of like a cats? At least that’s what Mom thinks, but I’m not really sure. They sort of look normal usually, but they’re black and thicker than human’s.” I let her look at my hands and preened when she commented how pretty the color was. I had brought emergency nail polish just in case so Grover had done them for me again in green with little flowers on my middle fingers which I thought was hilarious.

The conversation sort of trailed off after that, but the rest of the second day was decidedly less awkward than it had been before. It was June 13th, which meant we had eight days before the summer solstice and the train was making a stop in St. Louis to switch out passengers.

Annabeth craned her neck to see the Gateway Arch, which looked to me like a huge shopping bag handle stuck on the city. "I want to do that," she sighed.

"What?" I asked.

"Build something like that. You ever see the Parthenon, Percy?"

"Only in pictures."

"Someday, I'm going to see it in person. I'm going to build the greatest monument to the gods, ever. Something that'll last a thousand years."

I wanted to laugh as I pictures her just sitting quietly and trying to draw. Even when she was reading she had a habit of getting up and wandering around with the book before sitting down again, or even drawing in the margins if she had an idea she wanted to get down. But I bit my tongue.

She must have seen my face though because she flushed angrily. "Yes, an architect. Athena expects her children to create things.”

I sighed. Everything was about her godly mother with her, though I was starting to break her of the habit.

Annabeth rolled her eyes at me as if she knew what I was thinking and turned to watch the arch disappear behind some buildings.

Grover started to wake up as we pulled into the station and stretched, popping a bit like the old man he pretended he wasn't. TWENTY EIGHT! "Food."

"Come on, goat boy," Annabeth said. "Sightseeing."

"Sightseeing?"

"The Gateway Arch," she said. "This may be my only chance to ride to the top. Are you coming or not?"

I was practically bouncing as I turned to Grover with a pleading look. I was. so. Bored. A part of me really wanted to stay on the train because it was safer, another wanted to wander around the city, but Annabeth was excited about something and would be going off by herself if we didn't. At least she would probably talk to me if we did something she liked.

Grover shrugged. "As long as there's a snack bar without monsters."

The Arch was about a mile from the train station, so we just walked. We saw some of the people we were on the train with wait for busses and I immediately knew they weren't city people.

When we got there, the lines weren't that long since it was later in the day. We threaded our way through the underground museum, looking at covered wagons and other junk from the 1800s. It wasn't all that thrilling, but Annabeth kept telling us interesting facts about how the Arch was built, and Grover kept passing me jelly beans, so I was okay for the most part.

Something was setting me on edge though even though I couldn't pick anything out in the sea of people. I kept glancing at Grover to see if he noticed, but his nose was in the jelly bean bag. "Dude, you smell anything?"

"Underground," he said distastefully. "Underground air always smells like monsters. Probably doesn't mean anything."

"Great, so we can't tell if anything is coming," I said. "Got any blue jelly beans left?"

Annabeth didn't even seem to notice us talking as she kept gushing about the history of the monument and what she would have done differently for the layout of the museum. A few of her ideas were actually pretty good though I have no idea how she came up with them.

I was really enjoying the tour she was giving us up until I saw the tiny little elevator we were supposed to ride to the top in. "No."

"Why not?" Annabeth asked sharply, but I let it go because I knew how excited she was and she didn't just leave without me.

"It's so small." I knew I was starting to shake as I looked at the tiny space but I really couldn't get my body to cooperate with me. I couldn't seem weak right now.

Grover grabbed my hand and squeezed. "Keep breathing for me, okay? In and out like we practiced." Gods what did I do to deserve such a good friend? I didn't get even realize I was holding my breath until he said something.

"We don't have to go up," Annabeth offered even if she couldn't hide the disappointment in her voice. "Maybe we could look around the park outside? Do you need fresh air?"

I normally would have said yes. But there were eyes on this quest and I could feel them from every direction. If I backed down from an elevator, I wouldn't be able to live it down. So I silently asked if she would hold my hand which made her very flustered for some reason, but with both of them with me I was able to do it. "Okay. Let's go look at a monument."

Annabeth didn't seem convinced but one look from Grover kept her from protesting. Grover knew how stubborn I could be and Annabeth just really wanted to go see the Arch.

We were forced to be with this older lady and her Chihuahua, who was glaring at me and cowering slightly. The woman looked surprised when we made eye contact, her mouth closing as if she decided against saying something.

The rest of the ride up was quiet as I tried to control my breathing, while Annabeth and Grover kept squeezing my hands so I could focus on the pain. Getting off the elevator was no better as we had a clear view of how high we were and I knew that if the god king was in a particularly foul mood—when wasn't he?—he would smite me just for looking at clouds.

Annabeth, while excited about the whole thing, didn't let go of my hand. Which of course led to us being dragged around the tight space, with Annabeth peeking through the little windows and muttering about how badly designed it was under her breath.

I actually had to keep myself from laughing a few times at her insults. I started to relax despite the space, up until it was time to leave and we had to go back into the stupid elevator things.

For some fucked up reason, the guards split us up. The three kids. By themselves. If there wasn't something trying to get my attention, I would have screamed. But the lady with the Chihuahua had been watching us the entire time, always in the corner of my eye, and it looked like maybe she wanted Annabeth and Grover out of the way. Honestly, I did too. Totally could have stopped them from leaving instead of just wincing pitifully from how tense I was without them.

She made her move once we were all locked inside, quickly dropping her disguise and becoming a snake woman. Her dog’s facade dropped too and if it was any bigger, there would have been no space to move around.

The snake lady made a hissing noise that might've been laughter. "Perceus Jackson, it seems you’ve caught some attention. Lord Zeus himself requested I come down here to test you, but I am no fool. I know what you are. For I am the Mother of Monsters, the terrible Echidna!"

“Nice to meet you,” I said because really, what do you say when you meet an intelligent monster who isn’t actively attacking you? The one at the garden gnome warehouse doesn’t count because I was under a spell or something, okay? “Are you going to attack me?”

“Do you wish to spar, little godling? My Chimera hasn’t had a good fight in ages and I’m sure the gods are watching. I was sent as you know.” She smiled with all her teeth and her tongue flickered between them.

I glanced at the family and guards cowering by the exit door and trying to pry it open. “Do you swear to leave the mortals alone?”

“I so swear,” the mother of monsters decreed and waved a hand at her pet. The Chimera chargedon her order, its lion teeth gnashing.

I managed to leap aside and dodge the bite. I uncapped my sword, ran to the other side of the deck, and yelled, "Hey, Chihuahua!" The Chimera turned faster than I would've thought possible.

Before I could swing my sword, it opened its mouth, emitting a stench like the world's largest barbecue pit, and shot a column of flame straight at me, but I rolled through it like one of the fire drills they ran at school. Drop and roll.

Where I had been standing a moment before was a ragged hole in the side of the Arch, with melted metal steaming around the edges.

I extended my claws to slash at the beast with one hand while wielding riptide in the other, hoping it wouldn’t be able to defend against the two directions of attack, but it simply slammed its body into me. I tried to regain my balance, but I was so worried about defending myself against the fiery lion's mouth, I completely forgot about the serpent tail until it whipped around and sank its fangs into my calf.

My whole leg was on fire. I tried to jab Riptide into the Chimera's mouth, but the serpent tail wrapped around my ankles and pulled me off balance, and my blade flew out of my hand, spinning out of the hole in the Arch and down toward the Mississippi River.

I managed to get to my feet, but I knew I had lost.

There was no place else to go, so I stepped to the edge of the hole. Far, far below, the river glittered. I turned, taking one last glance over my shoulder at the mother of monsters. “Good doing business with you,” I said as I ignored the fire still burning through my shirt and the poison her pet had managed to inject into me. Without giving her a chance to respond, I leaped towards the river. It raced toward me at the speed of a truck. Wind ripped the breath from my lungs. Steeples and skyscrapers and bridges tumbled in and out of my vision.

But I could feel the water just ahead of me and called it towards me. All I could feel was the wind. And then: Flaaa-boooom!

A whiteout of bubbles. I sank through the murk, grinning as my eyes adjusted to the dark and welcomed the feeling of being surrounded in my element. I struggled to force myself to breathe though, the river was disgusting.

I was falling slowly now, bubbles trickling up through my fingers. I settled on the river bottom soundlessly. A catfish the size of my stepfather lurched away into the gloom. Clouds of silt and disgusting garbage—beer bottles, old shoes, plastic bags—swirled up all around me. Fump-fump-fump. A riverboat's paddlewheel churned above me, swirling the silt around.

Hello Percy Jackson, your father is watching you. Her words seemed to come from everywhere, rippling through the water like dolphin sonar.

"Where are you?" I called aloud.

Then, through the gloom, I saw her—a woman the color of the water, a ghost in the current, floating just above the sword. She had long billowing hair, and her eyes, barely visible, were green like mine.

I almost whined as my heart wanted to believe that she was my mother, I wanted to cry and hug her and have someone pet my hair and tell me it was going to be okay. But I knew she wasn’t my mother. The titan goddess before me was possibly more powerful than my father, most certainly than his newer form, and was a good match to be his wife. She was the ruler of the sea far before it was his kingdom and had danced through all of its depths. She was a friend to my real father and had often played with him in the waves and raged war against him to strengthen their skills. And as he became what he is, she allowed him to be her husband. “My lady.”

Well met, son of my friend, the Queen of the Seas whispered as she looked me over and smiled at the surprise I tried to hide from her. They keep nothing from me, nor do they hide from their wife and sister and daughter and brother.

“I don’t believe the The Silent One has the bolt, but the prophecy says to go west.”

She hummed, but I knew she couldn’t tell me anything. Your mother's fate is not as hopeless as you believe. Go to the beach in Santa Monica.

"What?"

It is your father's will. Before you descend into the Underworld, you must go to Santa Monica. Please, Percy, I cannot stay long. The river here is too foul for my presence. I cannot stay, brave one, the goddess said. She reached out, and I felt the current brush my face like a caress. You must go to Santa Monica! And, Percy, do not trust the gifts....

Her voice faded.

"Gifts?" I asked. "What gifts? Wait!"

She made one more attempt to speak, but the sound was gone. Her image melted away.

I took a deep breath to prevent myself from crying, trying to ignore how much my chest hurt from seeing someone who looked so much like my mother. Then I kicked up through the muck. When my head broke the surface of the water, I immediately knew my friends were terrified. It was overwhelming how much fear was being pushed my way by the breeze, but all I cared about was them. I practically ran when I hit the beach, pushing through people and looking as best I could.

Then someone grabbed me from behind, but I relaxed as soon as they made contact so I figured it was Grover. "What happened? Are you two okay?" I turned around to look them over for injuries, but that just seemed to make everything worse.

"What happened to us?! What happened to you?! You were supposed to be right behind us and then the Arch blew up and this wave and you almost died!" Grover, my pasicist, punched me in the arm hard enough to bruise. "If you hadn't had the water, you would have been dead instantly. You were really lucky with your powers just then."

"What was it? Were you attacked?" Annabeth was looking me over as much as I was checking on them, her nose scrunching. "Your eyes are black, you should really change them back before someone notices."

I tried to take some deep breaths but the adrenaline from what happened with the mother of monsters was still running through my veins, so I probably only managed to get a little bit of white back. "I'm okay, it wasn't that big a deal." I quickly explained what happened when I was in the elevator, watching as their eyes widened as I kept talking. "It was just a spar, you know? I was totally fine."

Annabeth quickly shifted from worried to pissed. When she reached out to grab me, the whiff I got of her scent was even spicy in a way I didn't expect. I didn't exactly have time to think about it though as she started dragging me all the way back to the train in half the time it took us to get to the arch in the first place.

Grover followed almost at a run, trying to get her to slow down or talk, but she ignored him. "Are you actually okay, Percy? You seem stressed." He looked at me with big eyes and I didn't have the heart to point out the obvious.

"I'm okay, man. Just gotta let her get this out I think."

"You shut up, you don't get to talk yet." Annabeth didn't even look back at me to say that, she just dragged me through the station and basically threw me into the sleeper car.

I ended up stumbling over to our bags and only my demigod training kept me from falling over. "Okay, what the hell?"

"Annabeth—" Grover wheezed a little— "what's going on?'

She shushed Grover and turned back to me with her knife suddenly in her hands. The last time she had pulled her knife on me, I ended up with a small cut on my neck that refused to heal for a few hours and kept pulling annoyingly. But this time she kept her distance, just pacing as far away as she could within the sleeper. Finally she just paused and stared at me, her knife flipping between her hands. "I'm the only one allowed to kill you, okay? I don't care what monsters we face, what gods you piss off, you aren't allowed to die. Do you understand me?"

I don't really understand why, but I could feel myself blush all the way down to my neck. "Yes ma'am."

She huffed as she hid her knife too fast for me to catch and threw herself on the bed. "Gods you're exhausting. I don't know how I'm going to keep you alive."

Grover laughed while I just stood there confused.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #something this way comes #feral percy

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Ten: Grover Decides Poodles Are Better Than Snakes (I'm Not Sure)

Once we finally stopped running, Annabeth slammed me up against a tree with her knife to my throat. Grover yelped and went to help but I held up a hand.

"What are you? And don't go saying this is some Big Three thing because I traveled with Thalia for almost a year and nothing like this ever happened to her." Annabeth was shaking. "Are you even a demigod?"

"I've met his mom!" Grover tries to cut in but she turned to glare at him.

I snarled when I saw him flinch away from her. "Hey, leave Grover alone!" Once her eyes were back on me, I took a few deep breaths as best I could with her blade right there, and tried to stay calm. “I am definitely a demigod. My mom was a mortal and my father was a greek god.”

“But not Posiedon.”

Grover started chewing on one of his tin cans nervously, his eyes flickering back and forth between us. He was my best friend, but he’d known Annabeth for years. I didn’t want to ask him to choose. I couldn’t do that to him.

So I looked Annabeth in the eye and shrugged. “He was when they first met, I think, but no. My father is older than that.” I watched the thoughts race through her head as she keptme pinned to the tree, her stance never wavering despite how exhausted she clearly was. I wanted to curl up into a ball too.

“I don’t understand, that’s not how this works. The gods are the gods theres no other…” Her gaze sharpened as she pressed closer and her blade pressed against my throat. “How can I trust you when you kept all of this a secret? How can I trust you to lead this quest when I don’t even know what you are?”

I snorted as anger snapped on my tongue. “You set me up to get killed during my first capture the flag game and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me. How am I supposed to trust you?” She flinched back as I growled and I forced myself to relax. “All I know is what I told you, I don’t even know a name to tell you even if I wouldn’t say it outloud anyway. He dated my mom, knocked her up, and left.”

“Is there anything else you’re hiding you want to tell me right now?”

“Nothing I’m going to tell you while you’re threatening me. So either stab me or let me down.”

Annabeth huffed as she sheathed her dagger and stepped away from me, turning her gaze to Grover. “How long have you known he was different?” She glared at him when he just shuffled awkwardly and stomped forward. “We need to get going.”

“Annabeth, wait…” I tried to stop her but Grover stepped between us. “Come on, man, I gotta talk to her.”

He looked over his shoulder at where she was kicking at the underbrush. “Not right now you don’t.”

So while Annabeth stormed her way through the trees and left us stumbling behind her, we walked in silence only broken by the occasional cursing as one of us kicked a rock or got hit by a branch that may or may not have been intentionally let go of. By the time there was anything even remotely different from trees, shrubs, leaves, and more trees, we’d been walking for twenty minutes.

The silence must have been getting to Annabeth as much as it was me, but she didn’t seem to want to be the first to break it. So I groaned and gave in, stopping for a second. “This isn’t going to work if we don’t talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about? You lied about who you are. I don’t trust you.”

I wanted to scream. What was with this girl? “I didn’t lie! I hid a part of myself that if you haven’t figured it out yet, could get me killed! Do you see any other demigods walking around with claws and weird abilities?” The considering look on her face was something we were definitely coming back to, but we didn’t have time for it. “Look, what I did was dangerous for me. It is something only my mom knew before Grover and…I could have just left you there with the Kindly Ones.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I refuse to let anything happen to you.”

“I could have handled it! I don’t need your protection.”

Grover gave her a weird look. “We would have been shredded like cheese, if that’s what you mean. There were three of them.”

The attempt she made at growling made me smile in a way I didn’t understand. “You did take care of the last one. You’re really good with that knife.” When her scent went back to normal I knew we would be okay eventually. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this.”

She rolled her shoulders back and crossed her arms, looking anywhere but me. “Yeah, well. You kicked their butts back there. So I think we’re even.” Annabeth turned to look at Grover and apologized for snapping at him. “Do you think you can help us get out of here?”

Grover pulled out his reed pipes and looked down at them. “Only one way to find out.”

The answer was no. My best friend could do a lot of things that were really cool: eat almost anything, run really fast with crutches, get me to calm down. Not on his list of skills, as we were finding out, was nature magic. The first toot of his reed pipes had me running into a tree hard enough that Annabeth was still giggling about it a few minutes later.

“I’m not sure I want to be friends,” she told me while Grover tried to get ahead of us and find a path. “But I won’t tell anyone about…whatever it is you are.” She was silent for a few more steps. “It’s just…this might be my only chance to see the real world and I thought it would be different, you know?”

"You haven't left CampHalf-Blood since you were seven?" I asked her.

"No ... only short field trips. My dad—"

"The history professor."

"Yeah. It didn't work out for me living at home. I mean, CampHalf-Blood Is my home." She was rushing her words out now, as if she were afraid somebody might try to stop her. "At camp you train and train. And that's all cool and everything, but the real world is where the monsters are. That's where you learn whether you're any good or not. And here you are with all these crazy powers…"

I tried not to laugh but from the glare she sent my way I had clearly failed. “I’m a freak even in a world where half-bull men exist. Yeah, I killed those monsters, but you helped. You came up with the plan to get me off the bus, you stabbed one of them.” I reached into my back pocket and handed her back her hat. “You’re pretty cool, wisegirl.”

“That nickname is not going to stick.” The best part of my better eyesight meant I could see her blush even in the dark, so I knew she didn’t mind itas much as she let on.

“Already has, wisegirl!”

Food. After another mile of walking, I could smell food. Grover could apparently smell something too because he was right there with me when I started running towards where it was coming from, my stomach growling despite the granola bar I’d eaten as we walked. We’d packed light expecting to be able to sleep most of the way on the bus.

And then I saw it: the colors of a neon sign. This boy needed a double cheeseburger, extra rare. The nymphs at Camp Half-Blood didn’t give anything less than medium and when I went to talk to them about it, they said they didn’t want to risk anyone else getting sick. It was frustrating watching other kids get vegetarian meals or their own special plates for one reason or another, but my one request got denied.

We kept walking until I saw a deserted two-lane road through the trees. On the other side was a closed-down gas station, a tattered billboard for a 1990s movie, and one open business, which was the source of the neon light and the good smell.

It wasn't a fast-food restaurant like I'd hoped. It was one of those weird roadside curio shops that sell lawn flamingos and wooden Indians and cement grizzly bears and stuff like that. The main building was a long, low warehouse, surrounded by acres of statuary. The neon sign above the gate was impossible for me to read, because if there's anything worse for my dyslexia than regular English, it's red cursive neon English. ATNYU MES GDERAN GOMEN MEPROUIM was all I could make out.

“Uh, G-man? A little help?”

Grover translated: "Aunty Em's Garden Gnome Emporium."

Flanking the entrance, as advertised, were two cement garden gnomes, ugly bearded little runts, smiling and waving, as if they were about to get their picture taken.

"The lights are on inside," Annabeth said. "Maybe it's open."

I could smell something funny in the air but it was pushed to the back of my mind in favor of the mouth watering smell of food kept coming for us. "Snack bar," I said wistfully.

"Snack bar," she agreed.

"Are you two crazy?" Grover said, shuffling along behind us. "This place is weird."

I looked back at him but otherwise kept going.

The front lot was a forest of statues: cement animals, cement children, even a cement satyr playing the pipes, which gave Grover the creeps. "Bla-ha-ha!" he bleated. "Looks like my Uncle Ferdinand!"

Annabeth got to the warehouse door first, waiting patiently for us. I started to feel a little off as we got closer, something poking at my brain trying to get my attention. I frowned in confusion, trying to shake it away.

"Don't knock," Grover pleaded. "I smell monsters."

"Your nose is clogged up from the Furies," Annabeth told him. "All I smell is burgers. Aren't you hungry?"

"Meat!" he said scornfully. "I'm a vegetarian."

The door creaked open and I knew instantly something was wrong. Standing in front of us was a tall Middle Eastern woman—at least, I assumed she was Middle Eastern, because she wore a long black gown that covered everything but her hands, and her head was completely veiled. Her eyes glinted behind a curtain of black gauze, but that was about all I could make out. And she smell like a reptile, giving me the feeling of something sliding over my skin with its scales.

"Children, it is too late to be out all alone. Where are your parents?"

"They're ... um ..." Annabeth started to say.

“Trying to find a gas station, our car broke down.” I backed away from the woman a bit and tried to grab Annabeth’s hand but she shrugged me off and gave me an annoyed look.

She instead stepped closer to the woman with a big smile. “Is that food I smell? We haven’t had a chance to eat yet.”

"Oh, my dears," the woman said. "You must come in, poor children. I am Aunty Em. Go straight through to the back of the warehouse, please. There is a dining area, and I have a phone you can use to tell your...parents where you are."

Everything faded away the closer we got to the food and I forgot what I was worried about as I moved to the dining area, practically salivating with hunger. And sure enough, there it was at the back of the warehouse, a fast-food counter with a grill, a soda fountain, a pretzel heater, and a nacho cheese dispenser. Everything you could want, plus a few steel picnic tables out front.

"Please, sit down," the woman said and you could just tell she was smiling in her voice.

I didn’t hesitate to follow her order.

"Um," Grover said reluctantly, "we don't have any money, ma'am."

Before I could tell him I had some, Aunty Em said, "No, no, children. No money, not for such lost children. You must be starving!”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Annabeth said as she sat next to me and Aunty Em turned her gaze on her.

Somehow, her voice got even softer as she whispered. “Of course, dear. You have such beautiful gray eyes, child. They remind me of a friend I had long ago.” Then she stiffened before straightening up and relaxing again, like it never happened. “I should get cooking, yes?”

In just fifteen minutes, she was bringing out plastic trays heaped with double cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and XXL servings of French fries. There was even a collection of cans for Grover which was nice, though for some reason she tried to play it off as recycling she needed to take out.

I was halfway through my burger before I remembered to breathe.

Annabeth slurped her shake.

Grover picked at the fries, and eyed the tray's waxed paper liner as if he might go for that, but he still looked too nervous to eat. "What's that hissing noise?" he asked.

I listened, but didn't hear anything. Annabeth shook her head when I looked at her.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asked. "Perhaps you hear the deep-fryer oil. You have keen ears, Grover."

"I take vitamins. For my ears."

"That's admirable," she said. "But please, relax."

We ate in silence for a while, with Aunty Em sitting across from us with her hands in her lap. It might have felt weird to have someone watch over us as we ate, but I was too busy devouring what I could reach to care.

Annabeth seemed to be in the same boat as me, but she finished eating first and started leaning on the table. All that food was making us sleepy. “Why did you get into statues?”

“They capture the truth, do they not? And gnomes are supposed to protect people, and that’s all I wanted to do. Protect people.” She placed her hands on the table and dragged a nail over the top lightly. “Is that so wrong?”

“No, of course not,” Annabeth assured her and smiled sleepily.

“Once upon a time, I had two sisters to help me in the business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is alone. I have only my statues. They will have to protect me." The sadness in her voice sounded so deep and so real that I couldn't help feeling sorry for her.

Annabeth jerked her head up just as I pushed my own plate away. “Two sisters?” How was she still awake? I could barely keep my eyes open.

"It's a terrible story," Aunty Em said. "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, long ago, when I was young. I worked for this wonderful woman, you know, but...something happened. I can’t remember.” She shifted and shook her head. “She caused a terrible accident. My sisters stayed by me. They shared my bad fortune as long as they could, but eventually they passed on. They faded away. I alone have survived, but at a price. Such a price."

“Percy? Our parents are probably back at the car now, we should go before they get worried.” Annabeth sounded scared. Why couldn’t I smell her? The only thing in the warehouse was some sort of perfume. It smelled nice. “Percy.” She was shaking me.

"Such beautiful gray eyes," Aunty Em told Annabeth again. "My, yes, it has been a long time since I've seen gray eyes like those." She reached out as if to stroke Annabeth's cheek, but Annabeth stood up abruptly.

"We really should go."

"Yes!" Grover swallowed his waxed paper and stood up. "Our parents are waiting! Right!"

Why did they want to leave? I felt so full and content, like when my mom took me out on a boat to the deeper water, away from people, and told me to have fun. I hadn’t felt full in so long. Even at camp we had to share everything and the nymphs never brought enough food. “Stay…”I muttered, but the English felt weird in my mouth.

Someone was petting my hair and I started purring, my eyes falling shut as nails scratched lightly at my scalp. “Stay. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your pet, now would you? Not when he can’t defend himself.” I didn’t really understand what she was saying, all I could focus on was how much I wanted to sink in my seat and sleep.

“What do you want?”

“Just a pose, dear. Children are so popular, you see. Everyone loves children." Her hand left my hair and I had to hold back a whine. I didn’t want her to go, not when I just got her back. “And then you’ll be allowed to leave.”

“Fine.”

“Annabeth.”

“Grover.”

The hand in my hair was back. “You have to get up, pet. We’re going to move for a bit and then you can go back to sleep.” I could barely open my eyes enough to do what she said, but she was nice enough to guide me. There was mumbling and I think shuffling? I couldn’t tell anymore. All I could feel were her hands on my arms. “Will you open your eyes for me?”

I tried to pry my lids open, but the light was too much and I instantly closed them again and flinched. My claws dug into my hands. I tried again, this time able to see I was on a bench with a girl to my left.

“Where’s your camera?” It wasn’t the girl who spoke.

“Who said anything about a photograph?”

"Look away from her!" someone shouted and shoved me both off the bench.

And like something had clicked inside me, I could feel the adrenaline pulsing through me. I was on the ground, looking at Aunt Em's sandaled feet, but I wasn’t sure why or how I’d gotten here. I could hear Grover scrambling off in one direction, Annabeth in another. Then I heard a strange, rasping sound above me. My eyes rose to Aunty Em's hands, which had turned gnarled and warty, with sharp bronze talons for fingernails.

The smell was back, the one that had made me want to leave when we first got here. What was wrong with me? What had she done?

"Run!" Grover bleated. I heard him racing across the gravel, yelling, "Maia!" to kick-start his flying sneakers.

I couldn't move. I stared at Aunty Em's gnarled claws, and tried to fight the groggy trance the old woman had put me in.

"Come on pet, you know you want to go back to sleep," she told me soothingly. "Stay with me, Percy, and you won't be sad anymore. No more pain."

I fought the urge to obey. Instead I looked to one side and saw one of those glass spheres people put in gardens— a gazing ball. I could see Aunty Em's dark reflection in the orange glass; her headdress was gone, revealing her face as a shimmering pale circle. Her hair was moving, writhing like serpents.

Aunty Em.

Aunty "M."

"The Gray-Eyed One did this to me, Percy," Medusa said, and she didn't sound anything like a monster. Her voice invited me to curl up with her and listen to more stories. "Annabeth's mother turned me from a beautiful woman into this. To protect me from your father, and to protect women like me. You don't want to be like him, do you? Forcing women to turn into monsters so they can be free of you."

"Don't listen to her!" Annabeth's voice shouted, somewhere in the statuary. "Run, Percy!"

Medusa purred. "Such a good friend you have found, but it won't last. You know this. One day you are going to hurt her, much better to let me save her, yes?"

"No," I muttered. I tried to make my legs move.

"Do you really want to help the gods?" Medusa asked. "Do you understand what awaits you on this foolish quest, Percy? What will happen if you reach the Underworld? Do not be a pawn of the Olympians, my dear. You would be better off as a statue. Less pain. Less pain. For everyone."

"Percy!" Behind me, I heard a buzzing sound, like a looney-tune character might make when they were flying. Grover yelled, "Duck!"

I turned, and there he was in the night sky with his winged shoes fluttering, Grover, holding a tree branch the size of a baseball bat. His eyes were shut tight, his head twitched from side to side. He was navigating by ears and nose alone.

"Duck!" he yelled again. "I'll get her!"

That finally jolted me into action. My arms tried to pull me behind a statue while my legs tried to go to Medusa, still slightly under her spell, and I ended up on my stomach, moaning on the floor.

Thwack!

Medusa roared with rage and it was like I could breathe again. Everything was my own. "You miserable satyr," she snarled. "I'll add you to my collection!"

"That was for Uncle Ferdinand!" Grover yelled back.

I scrambled away and hid in the statuary while Grover swooped down for another pass.

Ker-whack!

I barely had a chance to register lemon shampoo before an invisible hand was dragging me fully behind the statue and out of sight. “Are you okay? What happened? How did we get over here?”

Annabeth took off her Yankees cap and became visible. “I can explain later, but right now one of us needs to cut off her head.” She wrung her hands together and glanced behind her. “You have the better weapon, a sword is long enough you should avoid the claws. But if you get taken in by her again…”

“I don’t know what she did to me, but I think she has to concentrate on it. When Grover started attacking her, it broke whatever was happening.”

She hummed and grabbed a green gazing ball from a nearby pedestal. "A polished shield would be better." She studied the sphere critically. "The convexity will cause some distortion. The reflection's size should be off by a factor of—"

"Would you speak English?"

"I am!" She tossed me the glass ball. "Just look at her in the glass and never look at her directly. I’ll help Grover distract her if you think you can get close."

"Hey, guys!" Grover yelled somewhere above us. "I think she's unconscious!"

"Roooaaarrr!"

"Maybe not," Grover corrected. He went in for another pass with the tree branch.

"Hurry," Annabeth told me. "Grover's got a great nose, but he'll eventually crash."

"Do you actually trust me to do this? Because I'm not sure I trust me to do this." I hated how it sounded after our fight in the woods, but if I was risking their lives, I needed to know if she thought it would work.

"We don't have time for this!" Annabeth tugged on the end of her ponytail once before making eye contact with me for the first time since she held a knife to my throat. "I trust you to get us out of this mess."

I uncapped riptide and took the gazing ball from her. "Don't die, cause you know, that'd suck." Her lips twitched up just as I moved out from behind the safety of the statue. I could follow the hissing coming from her hair and with the weird image in the ball I was able to sort of figure out where she was.

Grover was gearing up for another run at Medusa whack-a-mole, but without me and Annabeth grabbing her attention, she was able to grab the stick and throw him into the arms of a stone grizzly bear with a painful "Ummphh!"

Medusa was about to lunge at him when Annabeth started her portion of the plan.

"Hey! Why are you doing this? Your powers were supposed to be a gift, used to protect women! When did you become this monster?" She was probably invisible, and hopefully keeping Medusa out of her sightline.

Thankfully, it seemed to be working as Medusa focused on her instead of realizing I was moving towards her as stealthily as I could.

"Men made me what I am! At least in Greece I had purpose, I could do something! And then men twisted my story, said I LED him into your mother's temple. Perseus, your friend's namesake, killed me because I was a powerful woman and even in your 'modern civilization' we are still nothing! My girls have their hijabs torn off, their burkas spit on, their hair called 'unprofessional' just because it isn't white." When I got within ten feet of her, she locked her gaze on me. "Little boys who love their mothers grow up to be men just like their fathers. Their namesakes. Isn't that right, Perceus Jackson?"

Annabeth tried grabbing her attention again, I could sort of hear her saying something, but it was like she was really far away.

All I could hear was the mesmerizing hissing of the snakes, see the face in the reflection as it moved closer, and feel the hairs on the back of my neck start to raise.

From the cement grizzly, Grover moaned, "Percy, don't listen to her!"

Medusa smiled sadly, the pain of what she was about to do clear on her face, as she whispered, "too late" and reached out with her talons. They barely scraped across my scales before I was slashing up with my sword.

There was a horrible shlock! noise and a decent thud before she fully disintegrated, with something rolling towards my shoes.

"I'm gonna puke," I warned as I dropped the gazing ball and used my now free hand to cover my nose. Whatever was coming out of the head was worse than pond scum burning. Grover didn't seem to be doing much better if the gagging noises he was making were anything to go by.

Annabeth came up next to me, her eyes fixed on the sky. She was holding Medusa's black veil. "Don't move." Very, very carefully, without looking down, she knelt and draped the monster's head in black cloth, then picked it up. It was still dripping green juice. "Are you okay?" she asked me, her voice trembling.

I decided to take her concern as only for my physical safety because if I answered honestly I knew I would break down. "Yeah, I'm tougher than I look."

Grover climbed down from the statue he'd been hugging for the last few minutes and fixed his rasta cap back in place. "Why did no one listen to me when I said that place smelled like monsters?" I chose to ignore that comment in favor of fist bumping him and complimenting his flying skills, to which he blushed. "That really was not fun, though. Well, the hitting-her-with-a-stick part, that was fun. But crashing into a concrete bear? Not fun."

We collected ourselves as best we could before making our way back into the warehouse and away from the garden of the dead.

Annabeth took charge of securing the head, though she did ask for help holding stuff when wrapping it.

We stared at the ball of plastic she'd made until Grover finally broke the silence.

"What are we going to do with it?"

And I realized I was angry. Angry at the only version of my father I would ever really get to meet, if that, and how I would be forced to suffer for his mistakes until something killed me. Angry at Medusa for having good points, why did the monsters with tragic backstories have to come after me?! I was angry at the Lord of the Sky for trying to kill us when we were on a quest to retrieve his stolen property. Most of all I was angry at myself for putting them in danger.

I got up. "I'll be back."

"Percy," Annabeth called after me. "What are you—"

I tore through everything I could find in Medusa's office, though I left the door to her private space alone. I snatched the address for the underworld, stuffed my bag with what cash I could find, and slipped the golden drachmas into the leather bag attached to the packing slip. I realized after I maybe should have waited, but thankfully nothing happened.

I went back to the picnic table, packed up Medusa's head, and filled out a delivery slip.

"They're not going to like that," Grover warned. "They'll think you're impertinent."

As soon as I finished filling out the packing slip, there was a sound like a cash register. The package floated off the table and disappeared with a pop!

"I am impertinent," I said.

I looked at Annabeth, daring her to criticize.

She didn't. "Come on," she muttered. "We need a new plan."

I hated the new plan. None of us were comfortable staying in the warehouse despite it being mostly free of statues, so we ended up camping out in the middle of the woods. I tried my best to pull the water from our clothes and bags, but I wasn’t very experienced with my powers. Thank god someone was smart enough to keep the cash in a plastic bag or I would have started crying right then and there. We might have had enough to splurge for a motel, if there was one around, but it would have cost us most of our money.

We decided to sleep in shifts. I volunteered to take first watch, which Annabeth quickly agreed to and rolled over on her pile of blankets to give me her back she was snoring as soon as her head hit the ground.

Grover fluttered with his flying shoes to the lowest bough of a tree, put his back to the trunk, and stared at the night sky.

“You’re getting pretty good at that.”

He didn’t even smile, just at the sky with something like longing in his scent. For some reason, he was really really sad. "It makes me sad, Percy." I hated being right.

“What does? The sky?” I tried to understand where he was coming from, but all I saw was darkness and a few clouds floating over the moon.

"You can't even see the stars. Humans have polluted the sky to the point that the stars are gone. This is a terrible time to be a satyr."

I didn’t know what to say to him. All I could think about was the rivers that ran brown through New York, the plastic in one of the fish I had tried to eat that made me choke. I didn’t know what to say so I didn’t say anything, just sat there looking at the starless sky.

He looked down at me with angry tears in his eyes, but I knew it wasn’t aimed at me. “Your species is clogging up the world so fast...ah, never mind. It's useless to lecture a human. At the rate things are going, I'll never find Pan."

A strange breeze rustled through the clearing, temporarily overpowering the stink of trash and muck. It brought the smell of berries and wildflowers and clean rainwater, things that might've once been in these woods. Suddenly I was nostalgic for something I'd never known and something inside me wanted to whine as the breeze faded away.

So instead, I asked Grover about his search. The way he talked…it was as if he was a child looking for his dad instead of a god. You know when you’re little and you think your parents can do anything? Maybe not all parents, but I definitely thought my mom could make sunshine appear if she tried hard enough. Hearing how Pan protected the Satyrs and the wild places, how he guided them, it felt like that moment when my mom disappeared.

Grover looked up at the stars again, his jaw clenched. “I'll succeed. I'll be the first searcher to return alive."

"Hang on—the first?"

Grover took his reed pipes out of his pocket. "No searcher has ever come back. Once they set out, they disappear. They're never seen alive again."

"Not once in two thousand years?"

"No."

"But you still want to go," I said and I was reminded again how lucky I was to have found him, to have him as a best friend. I decided right then and there that I would help him find his god even if I had to live like this in the woods forever to do it. He was mine, my best friend.

"I have to believe that I’ll be the one to find him, every searcher does. We have to believe that he’s out there waiting for us, maybe asleep or weak, but out there. And if we can just find him…"

“You will,” I declared as if I could make it true by saying it. “You’ll find him, and no more satyrs will have to disappear and the wilds will have someone to look after them.”

Grover smiled. “Thanks, Percy.”

We sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes, long enough that I honestly thought he was asleep.

But then he shifted on his branch. “Back at Medusa's, Annabeth and I agreed there's something strange going on with this quest. Something isn't what it seems."

“What da ya mean?”

“The Fur—The Kindly Ones were sort of holding back. Like Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy...why did she wait so long to try to kill you? Then on the bus, they just weren't as aggressive as they could've been."

I nodded. Afterall, I had the same thought when she first arrived at the school. Still…“They seemed plenty aggressive to me."

Grover shook his head. "They were screeching at us: 'Where is it? Where?'"

"Asking about me," I said.

"Maybe ... but Annabeth and I, we both got the feeling they weren't asking about a person. They said 'Where is it?' They seemed to be asking about an object."

"That doesn't make sense."

"I know. But if we've misunderstood something about this quest, and we only have nine days to find the master bolt...." He looked at me like he was hoping for answers, but I didn't have any.

“Maybe the Rich One lost the bolt? Or they thought we had something important?” I shrugged and kicked my feet into the blankets a little to get some feeling back in them. Sitting on the hard ground made my legs start falling asleep. Finally I sighed. "I haven't been straight with you," 1 told Grover. "I don't care about the master bolt. I agreed to go to the Underworld so I could bring back my mother."

Grover blew a soft note on his pipes. "I know that, Percy. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"I'm not doing it to help my father. He doesn't care about me. I don't care about him."

Grover gazed down from his tree branch. "Look, Percy, I'm not as smart as Annabeth. I'm not as brave as you. But I'm pretty good at reading emotions. You want him to notice you. That's why you mailed Medusa's head to Olympus."

"Yeah? Well maybe satyr emotions work differently than human emotions. Because you're wrong. I don't care what he thinks. Besides, I haven't done anything worth bragging about. We barely got out of New York and we're stuck here with barely any money and no way west."

Grover looked at the night sky, like he was thinking about that problem. "How about I take first watch, huh? You get some sleep."

I wanted to protest, but he started to play Mozart, soft and sweet, and I turned away, my eyes stinging. After a few bars of Piano Concerto no. 12, I was asleep.

My dreams led me to the ocean and for the first time, I felt unsafe being surrounded by water. There was a trench in front of me that went down and down and down and I knew that if I fell in, I would never come back out.

"Interesting," a voice boomed from it and I was forced backwards slightly. "You should have seen the underworld."

I wanted to make some witty comeback or sarcastic remark, but my lips were sealed together. I tried to bring a hand up to touch them and found that my limbs were too heavy to move. I should be floating, I wanted to be floating, but my feet stayed firmly on the rock of the seabed.

"It matters not little hero, you will come find me. You can feel the pull, can't you?" It was almost mesmerizing watching the bubbles coming out of the trench, shimmering like the ones you'd blow out of soap. "Come closer little demigod, help me rise."

Something about this whole thing made my teeth feel wrong in my mouth. Like they were too large for the space. I tried to scramble backwards as my feet started to slip closer, a laugh creeping towards me.

“They have misled you, boy,” it said. “Barter with me. I will give you what you want.”

What did I want?

A shimmering image hovered over the void: my mother, frozen at the moment she'd dissolved in a shower of gold. Her face was distorted with pain, as if the Minotaur were still squeezing her neck. Her eyes looked directly at me, pleading: Go!

I tried to cry out, but my voice wouldn't work.

Cold laughter echoed from the chasm. “Bring me the bolt. Strike a blow against the treacherous gods!”

“No!” I screamed, bolting up right and almost smashing my head against Annabeth’s.

"Well," she said, "the zombie lives."

I glared at her for a second before I reigned in the lingering anger from my dream. "How long was I asleep?"

"Long enough for me to cook breakfast." Annabeth tossed me a bag of nacho-flavored corn chips from Aunty Em's snack bar. "And Grover went exploring. Look, he found a friend."

My eyes had trouble focusing, but my nose went straight to dog. The only issue was, the only thing I could see was the pink blanket bunched up in Grover’s lap. “Huh?” Then the blanket moved. I flinched as I finally realized it was one of those toy poodles that rich ladies had, and whoever owned the poor thing had dyed its fur pink.

The poodle yapped at me suspiciously.

Grover said, "No, he's not."

The poodle growled when I tried to get up, scrunching up slightly. It wasn’t stupid enough to back down when a bigger predator was around.

"This," Grover said as if there was nothing wrong, "is our ticket west. Be nice to him. Percy, meet Gladiola. Gladiola, Percy.”

“Hi, I promise I won’t hurt you. You’re not big enough to eat anyway.” Grover rolled his eyes at me and Annabeth looked concerned, but the little yapper finally stopped growling. “How is he going to help us?”

Grover went back to petting the thing. “I found him walking around in the woods and decided to talk to him, I’ve only had you two for company for far too long.” It was my turn to roll my eyes. “He ran away from his family, but they’re local and pretty well off. They posted a $200 reward for his return. Gladiola doesn’t really want to go back to his family, but he’s willing to if it means helping us.”

I gave him a look.

“Okay, if it helps me.”

I rolled my shoulders and yawned. “Cool, we get some extra money, what does that do?

"We turn in Gladiola," Annabeth explained in her best strategy voice, "we get some more money, and we buy tickets to Los Angeles. Simple."

"Not another bus," I said warily.

"No," she agreed, and pointed downhill, toward train tracks I hadn't been able to see last night in the dark. “Our ride leaves at noon.”

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral percy #feral demigods #something this way comes

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witchywriterlythings · 2 months ago

Text

Something This Way Comes

Chapter Nine: I Decide I Don’t Like Busses

It took me longer than I expected to pack. They’d been able to get all of my stuff back from the police, even the teeth, so I had to figure out how many changes of clothes to take, if I needed another pair of shoes. They didn’t exactly give you a list to take, and I wasn’t going to ask Luke.

Annabeth was no help either, she was packing a book. Was this going to be like a roadtrip?

I packed a few changes of clothes, a toothbrush, a blanket, and grabbed a bunch of water bottles from the campus store, along with all the money my mom had given me. The camp store loaned me one hundred dollars in mortal money and twenty golden drachmas. Chiron gave Annabeth and me each a canteen of nectar and a Ziploc bag full of ambrosia squares, to be used only in emergencies, if we were seriously hurt.

Annabeth's siblings came to say goodbye to her, along with a few of the other campers she knew, while I waited with Grover awkwardly. After a few minutes of hugs for her, we made our way up the hill to where Chiron was waiting.

Next to him stood the surfer dude I'd seen when I was recovering in the sick room. According to Grover, the guy was the camp's head of security and he supposedly had eyes all over his body so he could never be surprised. Today, though, he was wearing a chauffeur's uniform, so I could only see extra peepers on his hands, face and neck. He also weirdly smelled like hay and farm animal, but I couldn't really place it.

"This is Argus," Chiron told me. "He will drive you into the city, and, er, well, keep an eye on things."

Thankfully we were saved from having to laugh at that by Luke running up the hill behind us with a pair of basketball shoes for some reason. They looked new, but something about them made me nauseous..

"Hey!" he panted. "Glad I caught you."

Annabeth blushed, the way she always did when Luke was around, which made me want to growl.

"Just wanted to say good luck," Luke told me, completely ignoring Annabeth. "And I thought...um, maybe you could use these." He handed me the sneakers and said, "Maia!"

White bird's wings sprouted out of the heels, startling me so much, I dropped them. The shoes flapped around on the ground until the wings folded up and disappeared.

"Awesome!" Grover said while I glared at them.

Luke smiled and tried to make me take them by giving them sentimental value and saying they were from a god. I just looked at him until he shuffled awkwardly. "Listen, Percy ..." Luke looked uncomfortable and I enjoyed it, while Annabeth gave me a sharp look. "A lot of hopes are riding on you. So just ... kill some monsters for me, okay?"

Luke patted Grover's head between his horns, then gave a good-bye hug to Annabeth, who looked like she might pass out. He looked at me for a second before running back down the hill.

I turned to Annabeth to make sure she was okay. "You're hyperventilating."

"Am not."

“Shut up.” Annabeth murmured but she didn't seem angry.

"You let him capture the flag instead of you, didn't you?"

"Oh ... why do I want to go anywhere with you, Percy?" She stomped down the other side of the hill, where a white SUV waited on the shoulder of the road. Argus followed, jingling his car keys, and smirking like he knew something I didn't.

I glared at the shoes Luke left for me before being hit with a really great idea. "Hey, Grover. You want a magic item?"

His eyes lit up. "Me?"

Pretty soon we'd laced the sneakers over his fake feet, and the world's first flying goat boy was ready for launch.

"Maia!" he shouted.

He got off the ground okay, but then fell over sideways so his backpack dragged through the grass. The winged shoes kept bucking up and down like tiny broncos.

"Practice," Chiron called after him, like that was helpful. "You just need practice!"

"Aaaaa!" Grover went flying sideways down the hill like a possessed lawn mower, heading toward the van.

Before I could follow, Chiron tried to catch my arm but I pulled away from him when he tried. He went on a out how I should have had more training, how all the great heroes did, and I shifted uneasily from his doubt. Then weirdly, he pulled a pen from his coat pocket and handed it to me. It was an ordinary disposable ballpoint, black ink, removable cap. Probably cost thirty cents.

"Gee," I said. "Thanks."

"Percy, that's a gift from your father. I've kept it for years, not knowing you were who I was waiting for. But the prophecy is clear to me now. You are the one."

I looked it over curiously, trying to figure out how it worked. It must be a magic item, right? It left my hand all tingly where it touched, like it was full of static. "How does it work?"

"Remove the cap, away from me if you please."

I took off the cap, and the pen grew longer and heavier in my hand. In half a second, I held a shimmering bronze sword with a double-edged blade, a leather-wrapped grip, and a flat hilt riveted with gold studs. It was the first weapon that actually felt balanced in my hand.

"The sword has a long and tragic history that we need not go into," Chiron told me. "Its name is Anaklusmos."

"Riptide," I translated, enjoying the name as well as the balance of the sword. Finally, something that worked.

"Now recap the pen."

I touched the pen cap to the sword tip and instantly Riptide shrank to a ballpoint pen again. I tucked it in my pocket, a little nervous, because I was famous for losing pens at school.

"You can't," Chiron said.

"Can't what?"

"Lose the pen," he said. "It is enchanted. It will always reappear in your pocket. Try it."

I was wary, but I threw the pen as far as I could down the hill and watched it disappear in the grass.

"It may take a few moments," Chiron told me. "Now check your pocket."

Sure enough, the pen was there.

"Okay, that's extremely cool," I admitted, grateful that someone was finally giving me something useful.

Chiron hummed in thought before leaning down to look at me better and I just knew he was trying to be wise. "All we can do, child, is follow our destiny." Called it.

"Our destiny...assuming we know what that is."

"Relax," Chiron told me. "Keep a clear head. And remember, you may be about to prevent the biggest war in human history."

"Relax," I said. "I'm very relaxed." Chiron didn't seem to get the sarcasm though and just shooed me down the hill.

Driving felt weird after all of the mythical shit that goes down at camp. I went from watching people fly pegasus to being in a van. Total downgrade.

It was so distracting that I actually lasted thirty whole minutes before turning to Annabeth and asking her why she hated me all of a sudden.

"I don't hate you," she tried to deny before reaching for a book like it would protect her from this conversation.

"If this is about the whole rivalry thing…" I trailed off when she glared at me, figuring she wasn't ready to talk about it.

Annabeth sighed though. "We just aren't supposed to get along, okay? Do you know the stories?” As she ran through all the reasons she should hate a son of the sea, all I could hear was the waiver in her voice. “Just forget it.”

“Why is it so hard for us to be friends? Do you make all your life choices based on your mom? We don’t have to actually be our parents, you know.” I knew I was sort of pouting, but she was being so frustrating! All I wanted was for things to go back to the way things were before I was claimed.

“We can’t just ignore who our parents are!”

“Why not?”

“Why are you so frustrating?”

“Cause I can be right?” I grinned as she became flustered again.

“You make no sense!” Annabeth huffed and turned away from me to look out the window.

In the front seat, Argus smiled. He didn't say anything, but one blue eye on the back of his neck winked at me.

By the time we made it to the Greyhound Station on the Upper East Side, it was pouring rain and dark. Taped to a mailbox was a soggy flyer with my picture on it: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS BOY?

I ripped it down before Annabeth and Grover could notice.

Argus unloaded our bags, made sure we got our bus tickets, then drove away, the eye on the back of his hand opening to watch us as he pulled out of the parking lot.

I thought about how close I was to my old apartment. On a normal day, my mom would be home from the candy store by now. And Smelly Gabe probably up there, playing poker, just like he would be right now, not even missing her. I had to clench my jaw to stop from growling.

Grover must have seen something on my face because he tried comforting me by explaining why my mom was married to Gabe, but he quickly stopped when my claws came out and I slashed at a post. Thankfully, Annabeth wasn’t around to see it but Grover still gave me a look anyway. “You need to cool it or she’s going to figure it out.”

“She married him to protect me, that means it was my fault! If she didn’t have me, she wouldn’t have had to!”

“Like your mom would do anything she didn’t want to. You can’t be that self centered, can you Percy?” Grover grinned at me even as I shoved at his shoulder gently. “Your mom loved you so much, that’s all I wanted you to know.”

I nodded as I looked out at rain and pretended my dripping hair was why my cheeks were wet.

The rain kept coming down.

Despite being initially confused as to why Annabeth brought a book,we quickly got bored waiting for our bus and decided to play Hacky Sack with one of Grover's apples. For two demigods, it was actually pretty easy to bounce it back and forth between us, with Grover keeping up a lot better than I thought considering he had to use his crutches for the time being.

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared—core, stem, and all.

Grover blushed, waving his hands as he tried to apologize. “I am so sorry.”

Annabeth and I were laughing too hard to even wave off his apologies.

“Dude, that was awesome!” I reached out fora fist bump that he gave after a few seconds of staring.

Finally the bus came. As we stood in line to board, Grover started looking around, sniffing the air like he smelled his favorite school cafeteria delicacy—enchiladas. Since he looked a bit silly, I tried to be subtle as I tried to figure out what it was he had noticed.

“What is it?” All I could smell was sweaty socks and the toddlers diaper that needed changing a few feet away while his poor dad tried to figure out a place to change him before we boarded. I really didn’t want to keep focusing on my nose so I switched my attention back to Grover. “Monster?”

Grover shook his head. “It’s nothing, I think.” But he didn’t look totally convinced of that, so I tried to stay on my guard.

I was relieved when we finally got on board and found seats together in the back of the bus. Annabeth and Grover went to store their backpacks, but I shook my head. “What if something happens?”

Annabeth kept slapping her Yankees cap nervously against her thigh. “You’re going to jinx us, it’ll be fine.” She still kept her bag in her lap just in case though.

As the last passengers got on, I felt my entire back tense and my head snapped up to look without my say so. An old lady had just boarded the bus. She wore a crumpled velvet dress, lace gloves, and a shapeless orange-knit hat that shadowed her face, and she carried a big paisley purse. When she tilted her head up, her black eyes glittered, and my heart skipped a beat.

“Annabeth, Grover.” I started fiddling with the pen sword Chiron had given me. “That’s Mrs. Dodds…and she brought friends.” Right behind my old math teacher were two identical versions of her, down to the wrinkled velvet dresses. Triplet demon grandmothers.

Grover whimpered as he shrunk down in his seat. “What do we do? It’s all three of them!” He was starting to shake, like we were back at Yancy and he’d been called up to the board.

"It's okay," Annabeth said, obviously thinking hard. "Kindly Ones. The three worst monsters from the Underworld. No problem. No problem. We'll just slip out the windows."

"They don't open," Grover moaned.

"A back exit?" she suggested.

There wasn't one.

“Who designed this godsdamn bus?!” Annabeth was starting to get panicked too, though she was trying to keep control.

Even if there had been, it wouldn't have helped. By that time, we were on Ninth Avenue, heading for the Lincoln Tunnel.

Annabeth started looking around desperately. "Maybe an emergency exit in the roof ... ?"

We hit the Lincoln Tunnel, and the bus went dark except for the running lights down the aisle. It was eerily quiet without the sound of the rain.

Mrs. Dodds got up. In a flat voice, as if she'd rehearsed it, she announced to the whole bus: "I need to use the rest-room." And her sisters followed in the same monotone voice, in the most suspiciousway possible, and started making their way back towards us.

"I've got it” Annabeth turned to me and shoved something in my hands. "Percy, take my hat."

"What?"

I tried to argue with her, I tried to explain that it didn’t matter if I left. But when Grover looked at me and sad that I had to go, I listened. No matter how much I wanted to scream, I took the cap and put it on.

I don’t know how I got to the front of the bus, I barely dodged Mrs. Dodds by ducking into an empty seat as I passed. I was sure my backpack was going to hit the seats, or get caught on something, but my luck held out. We were almost through the Lincoln Tunnel now. I turned to check on my friends right as the wailing started.

The monster I had fought back in the MET had now tripled, each with their own fiery whip that crackled and sizzled against the bus seats. The Kindly Onessurrounded Grover and Annabeth, lashing their whips, hissing: "Where is it? Where?"

The people on the bus must have seen something because the screaming started soon after. Annabeth must have said something to them because they quickly raised their whips.

Annabeth drew her bronze knife. Grover grabbed a tin can from his snack bag and prepared to throw it.

I knew what I had to do, but the mortals would be in the way if we stayed on the bus. So I grabbed the wheel from the driver and played the most dangerous game of chicken in my life with the rest of traffic as we barreled down the highway. The first exit I saw, I pulled us off asI ignored the honking of other cars and the screaming of the passengers.

The second I let the driver take over, he pulled off the road next to a stretch of forest and hit the emergency brakes, slamming everyone forward. The only reason I didn’t crash through the windshield was the steering wheel caught me.

The monsters regained their balance as the mortals rushed off the bus, leaving me to watch as they lashed their whips at Annabeth while she waved her knife and yelled in Ancient Greek, telling them to back off. Grover threw tin cans. We were all going to die if I didn’t do something.

I sent a silent apology to my mom, but Annabeth and Grover were mine. And no one was going to touch them. I ripped off the invisibility cap, shoving it in my back pocket and yelled, “Hey!” As soon as I had their attention I felt myself let go. My claws in full form were almost half the size of my hands, curling slightly at the ends. My scales surfaced to protect my skin, circling around my body like armor, while my eyes turned back. I grinned even as I watched Annabeth pale and drop back into her seat. “You want a rematch?”

The Dodds turned, baring their yellow fangs at me, before Mrs. Dodds stalked up the aisle, just as she used to do in class, about to deliver my F- math test. Every time she flicked her whip, red flames danced along the barbed leather. Her two ugly sisters hopped on top of the seats on either side of her and crawled toward me like huge nasty lizards.

"Perseus Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said, in an accent that was definitely from somewhere farther south than Georgia. "You have offended the gods. You shall die."

I didn’t respond, not when my mouth was too full of teeth for English, and charged her. A part of me knew that I could probably use my sword for this but I couldn’t risk the others getting hurt. As soon as one of them was in reach, I lunged for the one on the left as Mrs. Dodds wrapped her whip around my right hand. I ignored the pain as I used the stunned surprise of my attack to slash sister number two across the face, her body dissolving underneath me. I ripped the hand still attached to the whip to pull Mrs. Dodds forward until we were face to face.

I could hear shuffling and cursing behind her, but I trusted Annabeth to hold her off now that her sisters were dead or distracted.

“What are you?”Mrs. Dodds asked curiously, sniffing at me.

I growled at her as I slammed my head into hers. She fell back screaming and I took great pleasure in slicing my claws right through her belly, watching her dissolve into nothing. When I looked up, Grover was blowing on his hands from where he must have touched one of the whips and Annabeth was panting where she stood on one of the seats, her knife still out. Thankfully both of them had their bags.

Annabeth turned her gaze on me even as I put my more human features back the way they were, her eyes promising blood. “What…what the fuck—”

Thunder shook the bus. The hair rose on the back of my neck.

“No time!” Grover grabbed her arm and started shoving me off the bus.

We rushed outside and found the other passengers wandering around in a daze, arguing with the driver, or running around in circles yelling, "We're going to die!" A Hawaiian-shirted tourist with a camera snapped my photograph.

The windows of the bus exploded as the passengers ran for cover. Lightning shredded a huge crater in the roof.

“We have to go,” Grover said urgently and once again pushed us both forwards. We plunged into the woods as the rain poured down, the bus in flames behind us, and nothing but darkness ahead.

#percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #unhinged series #feral percy jackson #feral demigods #feral percy #something this way comes

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