Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Thalia

I look around at the large group of kids surrounding me, and feel, strangely, at peace. I’m only fifteen, and I’m wanted in like, six states, but I have my odd gang of demigod kids, and that’s enough for me.

We’re hiding in one of our safehouses in Los Angeles, and I’m in charge of looking after the young ones while Luke, Hylla and Piper are out getting food for dinner. Their combined charmspeak and skill at thievery make them an unstoppable trio.

Jason and Percy are fighting each other like wolves in the garden again, rolling across the grass while laughing maniacally. I shake my head, snorting. Not a day can pass without those two acquiring a new bruise. Annabeth, Reyna and Leo are attempting to decipher a book Luke stole for them from the library. They can probably read better than I can at this point, despite all of us being dyslexic. Frank’s asleep in a bundle of sheets on the floor.

"Who wants McDonalds?" Luke roars jubilantly from the front door, and the kids all cheer. Percy and Jason are already climbing through the window ecstatically, both too impatient to wait for Luke to move away from the door. 

Little Piper’s already finished her fries by the time Hylla’s rationed the rest of the food out to everyone else. I watch in amusement as Annabeth peels the pickles off her cheeseburger and passes them to a happy Percy with a disgusted look on her face.

Running away might just have been the best thing I had ever done. 

I had only been nine when I packed up a two-year-old Jason, grabbed a backpack and left Beryl Grace’s house for good. Not even a year later, I’d run into Luke, who had Piper in tow. Piper had been four, and none of us really knew what caused her to run away from her father’s house at such a young age, but I had put it down to emotional neglect. The rich type always do that.

Annabeth joined us when she was seven and I was twelve. A few months later, we found Leo sleeping under a bridge. We found Percy while running through a forest from a cyclops. Percy had been aboard what had looked like either a very small bear or a very large dog, but what we had later identified as Frank. Hylla and Reyna had been the last to join our little band of runaways, with Hylla being a few years older than me and Reyna being around Annabeth and Percy’s age. We met the two sisters while running from the police in California.

Sure, there were ups and downs of being a runaway at nine. I had no idea how to look after a two-year-old. I wasn’t nearly as good at tricking people as Luke was, but I made up for it by being good with the mist. With just a snap of my fingers, Luke and Hylla were a middle-aged married couple taking their kids out. Hylla was particularly good with a knife. Annabeth was smart. Leo could make fires to cook our food. Piper could charm anyone into giving her anything. Frank could shapeshift and sneak into anywhere as a beetle. Reyna was strong. And Jason and Percy could distract any adult into cooing at them as Luke or Hylla snuck in or out of somewhere.

Luke comes to me later, as I’m tucking Annabeth into her makeshift bed. 

"Hey, Thalia," he says, "Hylla and I spotted something weird while we were out getting dinner. We didn’t want to investigate with Piper, but we’re gonna check it out now. She reckons there are a few demigods in this hotel. Wanna come?"

"Sure," I reply. After all, Hylla’s senses are usually right, and what’s the worst that can happen?

Three Years Later – Percy

I don’t understand why Annabeth is mad that I drenched and almost drowned Jason. It’s as if she doesn’t expect us to attempt bodily harm on each other? Anyways, she put me on scouting duty. With Jason. I don’t know what she was trying to achieve there.

Jason and I are not scouting. Jason is throwing rocks at my head as he floats out of my reach. I hate him and wish we could vote him into exile. Unfortunately, I do not make the rules.

Before we go back to the ship – fine, the Argo II – Jason and I kidnap a squirrel so he can be Frank’s best friend. We are so considerate. We lose the squirrel when we get chased by Cyclopes. Jason hits his head and has a concussion. I am not surprised.

We avoid getting eaten alive, we count this as a win. A bear tries to scratch out our eyes, so we christen him Frank 2.0 and zap him with lightning. Then we feel bad about killing Frank 2.0, and dig a hole so we can hold a funeral. A stray hydra crashes the funeral and we are forced to abandon the obituary. All in all, it was a pretty successful outing.

Of course, Leo has to be an ungrateful little shit and complain about us not stealing him some Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. We very patiently explain to him that this is because Jason and I are model citizens, and would never take from the community. I may or may not have attempted to end Leo’s life. This is up for speculation.

Annabeth is annoyed because we did not bring back McDonald’s. We tell her we don’t believe in fast food organisations, and she tells us this is bullshit because we literally had KFC two nights ago. We can’t argue with this, so she sends us back out to get McDonald’s.

On the way, Jason and I devise a plan to become the new rulers of the Argo, and create a world where there is democracy. We know this is all hypothetical, because the girls scare us and we would never dream of stealing their power.

We remove the burger patty from Leo’s quarter pounder and replace it with Flamin’ Hot Cheetos. Jason and I decide we are hilarious. Leo will probably burn our eyebrows off while we are asleep again. This only affects Jason however, as I cannot see my eyebrows, and therefore their lack thereof does not bother me.

"Did you know an avocado is a fruit?" Jason asks me as we walk back to the Argo, our arms full of food bags. I find this fact absurd. "It’s actually considered to be a berry," Jason adds when I tell him he is wrong.

"It’s like how a banana is technically a berry, but nobody calls it a berry because that would be stupid," I tell him, because it is a great comparison. Jason takes this as an act of war and I am forced to abandon all morals and attempt to drown him in retaliation. Then we have to walk back to McDonald’s to get more burgers. Jason thinks this is all my fault, but it actually is not .

As we make our way back to the Argo, again, I sense that something is following us, and I say as much to Jason. Jason tells me I am trying to distract him again, and then he gets pounced on by a wolf. I decide to kindly not help him.

"Thanks a lot," Jason growls at me once he frees himself. 

"I did warn you," I point out. Jason helpfully informs me that we are now surrounded by a pack of wolves and several goats. I imagine he means satyrs, because otherwise, the wolves would be eating the goats.

Every so often, we will be accosted by wolves and satyrs trying to recruit us into the child armies that they call summer camps. We always say something intelligent and run away.

"Oh," Jason says softly after a few moments of absolute silence.

"What?" I ask, because I have no idea what is so surprising.

"It’s – there’s a centaur. And Lupa. Lupa is here."

I laugh, because Jason cannot be serious. I just want to eat my cheeseburger. 

"Let me guess, the centaur is Chiron?"

"Yes, well noted," a voice that sounds like it probably belongs to a really old horse-man replies.

"Well, fuck," I say, because I do not have a big vocabulary. 

Jason and I look at each other – or, well, Jason looks at me and I turn my head in Jason’s direction – before we decide to retreat and very expertly run away. 

We forgot that wolves are very fast, and we are very slow when burdened with an abundance of cheeseburgers. 

"Well, fuck," I say again, because no, my vocabulary has not expanded yet.

The horse-man sighs. "Can we talk with you?"

Jason very smartly replies, "You already are."

Jason and I then laugh quite a lot, because we often have very small brains when faced with a crisis.

"Can we talk with you on your ship?" Chiron decides to clarify. I personally think this is a terrible idea, and Jason tells me that this is a terrible idea.

"That’s a terrible idea," I tell Chiron. "Because our ship exploded."

"The ship that I can see in the distance exploded?" one of the wolves, probably Lupa, asks. Well, she doesn't ask, per say, because wolves cannot talk, but I get the impression that's what she's trying to say. I don't want to brag, but I'm probably like, an expert at talking wolf at this point. One time, Jason and I kidnapped Frank and forced him to teach us how to speak the languages of different animals - look, we had just finished watching all the Disney Princess movies with Meg, don't blame us. Annabeth walked in on us trying to understand Frank the Wolf and threw shoes at our heads until we stopped "being idiots".

Back to the original point, I must admit that I forgot our ship is very big.

"That’s another ship," Jason says.

"Another ship with completely different demigods living on it," I add.

Naturally, Chiron and Lupa call bullshit on this statement. Jason and I are forced to lead that two very old animals back to the Argo, because we are hungry. Reyna will later call us cowards, but she will never understand our torment.

Leo self-combusts and Frank turns into a chimpanzee upon spotting us. As you can see, we don’t have guests very often. Annabeth glares at me. I cannot, of course, see her glaring, but I can feel her death stare radiating off me. I think this is very unfair, as this is obviously Jason’s fault.

That is how we find ourselves eating cheeseburgers in the dining room while being watched by a very old wolf and a very older horse.

"Why are you here?" Meg asks, because she is only (almost?) eight and we have not taught our adoptive daughter the importance of manners yet. 

"We think it would be best if you all came to Camp," Chiron begins. I would like to inform you that we do not usually mock people, but in this case, we all laughed very loudly.

"I think I won’t do that," Piper says, because she has Assertive Badass Disorder (ABD).

"Preach," Leo says, because he has never known originality, (hence the Argo II).

"It will be much safer," Chiron attempts to convince us.

"We can handle the monsters," Annabeth replies, as she also has ABD.

"You wouldn’t have to steal food," Lupa points out.

"We have a vegetable garden," Meg defensively reminds them.

"Besides, you want to separate us," Frank argues. "We know the deal, you’ve sent enough satyrs and demigods."

"I’m not getting separated from Frank," Leo states firmly.

"And we can’t even bring Rachel into camp, because she’s mortal," Reyna agrees. "We’re not joining your child armies, thanks."

"They’re not child armies," Chiron says because apparently, he got his Comedian degree at Bullshit University.

We all laugh very loudly again.

"So you’re telling us that the moment we step into your camps, the Gods aren’t going to try and send us on quests to do their dirty work?" I ask sarcastically.

Chiron says nothing.

"You got him there," Jason mutters.

I can practically feel Annabeth narrowing her eyes. "What aren’t you telling us?" she asks.

Chiron sighs, again. "The Gods are on the verge of war."

I clear my throat. "That is very interesting information, and I think that we will do nothing about it."

"They’re going to declare war on you," Lupa growls, and I shut up. I never really knew whether wolves normally have a sarcastic, edgy, and slightly aggressive vibe to them or whether that was just Frank, but I guess now I know the answer.

"Me, personally, I call bullshit," Jason speaks up.

"The Olympians have each lost their symbol of power and think you all did it," Chiron says.

We all laugh very loudly, as this is a very funny joke.

"Wait, you’re serious?" Piper asks, evidently as bamboozled as myself.

Chiron nods.

"How do they all just collectively lose their special toys?" Leo asks, "I mean, don’t they sleep with them under their pillow at night? How could someone just steal it?"

"Cos they’re full of shit," Reyna murmurs, as she is a woman of eloquence.

I roll my eyes. "This is all very distressing and all, but say we don’t go off to find their special toys…"

"Then they will probably come here and blow you all to smithereens," Chiron tells us somberly.

"Well, that’s just great because I wrote that on my bucket list," Jason says.

"Great aspiration to have," Rachel congratulates.

"Thanks."

"Why can’t you just send demigods from your child armies to find their shit?" Annabeth asks.

Chiron says nothing.

"Because the Gods have requested you, specifically," Lupa says for him.

"That’s bullshit!" I say, with the gusto of a war declaration. "First, they blame us for stealing their toys and now they expect us to find them?"

"Can’t they find them themselves?" Meg asks.

"Meg, that would require the Gods being self-aware," Piper points out, because here on the Argo, we take education very seriously.

"Oh."

"Well, I only go on quests if Rachel’s issued a prophecy, so I guess we’ll just prepare for war," Jason says, crossing his arms.

Of course, Rachel takes this to be a great moment to be possessed.

Three shall go east and face the one not seen

Wisdom’s cloak won when unseen

You shall travel south to the mouth of the sea

And return the loss of three

You shall find the ones lost in time

And unburden innocents of crime

Three more will walk the endless maze

The sight, the warrior, dove’s daughter raise

A prize to win from a hunter’s foe

A final breath one shall know

The sight shall make the blind

A vow one must decline

Three go west to return a king’s glory

Heed an ancient story

The creator faces the monster’s mother

One neck grows another

Four lost returned to those who yearn

A haven home you shall earn

Me, personally, I’ve never been a big fan of prophecies. Of course, when Rachel decided she wanted her life-long career to be an oracle, I supported her fully, but I just think they’re a bit wack.

Especially when they’re about me.

"One, two, three, is that bullshit I see?" Jason mutters under his breath sarcastically, breaking the tense silence the prophecy had left us in.

"I think this is for another group of demigods," Leo says confidently, before turning to Chiron. "It’s so great that you were here, you can go tell your child soldiers that they’ve been blessed with a prophecy!"

"No, I think it means us," Annabeth interrupts glumly, ruining the little hope I had been holding onto.

"Did she just give a prophecy?" Chiron asks, shocked.

"Yup," Reyna pats Rachel back, "DIY Oracle. Apollo himself said so."

"That’s why our Oracle won’t give prophecies then," Chiron mutters.

We decide to ignore his dilemma. We are very good at ignoring other people’s problems.

"'Three shall face the one not seen'," Piper murmurs, "so we’re facing an invisible monster?"

"No, I think it means we’re not supposed to see the monster we’re fighting," Frank reasons, "because the next line is 'Wisdom’s cloak won when unseen'."

"Great, so we send Percy," Leo says. I attempt to drown him.

"'Wisdom’s cloak' obviously refers to my mother’s Aegis," Annabeth continues as if she hadn’t just witnessed an attempted murder. "That would be her symbol of power."

"'Mouth of the sea' what’s that?" Meg asks.

"Where we’re gonna find three lost objects, apparently," Reyna says. "We’re also gonna find the ones lost in time. Anyone got any time-travelling friends?"

Funnily enough, no one raises their hands.

"'Unburden innocents of crime', what’s that about?" Rachel asks as she reads over the prophecy. 

"Well, we're being charged with having stolen all of the God’s symbols of powers, so maybe it means that we’ll find them all again?" Annabeth, ever the logical one, points out.

"I reckon each verse is meant for a different group of three," Leo theorizes, "like, just taking a wild guess, but the prophecy goes, 'three shall', 'three more' and 'three go', and there’s nine of us…"

"So we’re splitting up?" Piper says.

"Well we obviously can’t all go on the quest together, there’s too many of us," Reyna reasons, "three’s the magic number."

"Actually, according to astrology, my special number is one, but go off I guess," Leo says. Reyna chooses to respond to this with;

"I’m not going on a quest with Leo."

"That’s great because the next verse says 'the sight, the warrior, dove’s daughter raise' will 'walk an endless maze'," Annabeth deciphers, "The sight is obviously Rachel, as she’s an oracle. Dove’s daughter is Piper because the dove is Aphrodite’s sacred animal. The warrior can either be Frank or Reyna, so take your pick."

"I volunteer Reyna," Frank decides bravely. Reyna rolls her eyes.

"If Percy’s in Quest No. 1, and Rachel, Pipes and Reyna are taking Quest No. 2, what about the rest?" Leo asks.

"You’re in Quest 3," Meg says, rolling her eyes. (She's a bit too much like Reyna.)

"Why’s that?" I ask, because we have no idea how Meg got to that conclusion.

"'The creator faces the monster’s mother'," Meg rolls her eyes again. (Definitely Reyna's influence). "We’re all shit at creating stuff except for Leo."

"That’s fair," Piper nods her head, "I remember how Frank’s knitting phase went."

"Hey!" Frank crows indignantly, "I remember how your pottery phase went."

"I remember how Annie’s metalworking phase went," Jason chips in. We all look down at our… uniquely moulded cutlery, courtesy of Annabeth.

"It went very well, thanks," Annabeth narrows her eyes.

"Absolutely brilliant," Jason agrees quickly, "never doubted you, Annie."

"BACK TO THE PROPHECY," Rachel shouts, because Annabeth is looking like she wants to decapitate Jason now, "I think Meg is right. Leo’s in Quest 3."

"I’m in Quest 1, then," Meg says, ignoring Leo’s mock gasp of hurt.

"I should be the one to help return my mother’s Aegis," Annabeth adds. 

Leo huffs. "You could’ve just said you didn’t wanna quest with me, Annabeth."

"Shut the fuck up, Leonidas."

"That leaves Frank and Jason to Quest 3," I clap my hands. "We are so good at this guys."

"We should make T-Shirts, you know," Jason nods his head enthusiastically, "we can get in the questing spirit."

"Uh, Jason, do you remember what happened the last time we decided to try sewing?" Leo reminds him, "Never again."

We all collectively shudder. We choose not to talk about the Sewing Disaster of 2003

"What’s the deadline?" Annabeth asks Chiron.

"The winter solstice," Chiron says.

"That’s only a week away!" Frank shouts.

"Hip hip hooray for the individual quests," Piper cheers sarcastically.

"Right, we’ll see you in a week then," Jason stares at Chiron and Lupa, "we don’t have guest cabins, so your gonna have to find your own accommodation until then. Or like, just don't come back. Bye!"

I don’t know whether Chiron and Lupa were intimidated by our collective glares or simply decided they’d had enough of our presence, but they decided to leave, so we counted it as a win all the same.

"Bed!" Annabeth declares as she takes Meg’s hand (Meg still likes to get tucked in. She’s eight.) "We have an early morning tomorrow, so actually sleep." She glares at Leo as she says this. I may or may not have laughed at his expense.

We are awoken before sunrise in fear of Leo’s walking table. That thing has been acting as an aggressive alarm clock for so long that we’ve learnt to wake up before it wakes us up. Annabeth declares that we depart at sunrise.

After Jason and I have fought to the death over the last egg (Reyna steals it while we are duelling) and Leo has given us the chance to practise the fire drill, we begin to discuss where we’re headed.

"Piper, Rachel and Reyna are going into the labyrinth," Annabeth decides as she reads over the prophecy. I get the impression that despite ordering us all to sleep last night, she didn't get a wink in at all. "That’s the only thing I can think of for ‘endless maze ’. So you’ll need to find Daedalus’ symbol – a Greek Delta. I have no idea where you would search, though."

"Well that’s just lovely," Piper says optimistically.

"Percy, Meg and I are going to have to track down a monster not seen in the east, and then go south to the ‘mouth of the sea ’. Then we find the ones lost in time. That is so fucking vague," Annabeth bangs her head on the table.

"Jason, Leo and I are going to find six things in the west," Frank says, "three cheers to a clear prophecy. Hip hip?"

"Hooray!" Leo and I chime in unenthusiastically. This is why I hate prophecies.

"Ok, we know group one is going to find Athena’s Aegis, plus three other things," Reyna says, "so that’s four out of the twelve Olympians."

"Guys," I say, because I’m a conspiracy theorist, "what if Hades lost his shit too?"

Annabeth tries to drown my head in my Cheerios.

"Group two are going to win a prize from a hunter’s foe, so I’m guessing we find whatever Artemis lost," Piper continues on, having no care for my life.

"Let’s put you in charge of Artemis, Apollo and Aphrodite," Annabeth says, "maybe we have to find our like, parent’s lost item, and just hope we sent the right people on the quest and fate isn’t pulling our leg. Reyna could qualify for Artemis because she’s a maiden, and Rachel is an oracle of Apollo."

"Good plan," I say, because it’s healthy for Annabeth to receive praise at least once a day, "that means you qualify for Athena’s Aegis, I’m going to find my dad’s trident in the mouth of the sea, and we find whatever Meg’s mum lost. Athena, Poseidon, Demeter. Finally some direction!"

"So I’m finding my dad’s master bolt?" Jason asks, rolling his eyes. "Great. Also, we’re finding whatever shiny new tool Leo’s dad lost, and whatever Frank’s dad lost. Zeus, Hephaestus, Ares? We don’t even know for sure that Frank’s dad is Ares/Mars. We’re just guessing because his mum was in the army."

If Jason’s face was an emoji at that moment, he would’ve been the tears-running-down-face emoji.

"Let’s just hope we’re good at guessing then," Frank sighs.

"That leaves Hera, Hermes, and Dionysus," Reyna says.

"Plus Hades," I add.

"Percy, shut the fuck up. Hades is smarter than the Olympians. I hope. If he wants us to find his thing he can send us a letter –"

A letter encased in shadows bursts into sight in the centre of the table.

"I guess Hades did lose his object," I say smugly, and then remember that we’re going to have to find it, and feel slightly less smug.

"Alright, if you see something that belongs to Hera, Hermes, Dionysus or Hades, pick it up and mail it to Olympus," Piper says reasonably. "Unless they wanna send a letter with what they lost, who stole it and where it is…?"

No such letter appears. Worth a try, I guess.

"Hades lost his helm of darkness," Annabeth declares, rolling her eyes and chucking the opened letter on the table. "Dibs not it."

"If you see an ugly black hat, mail it to the Underworld," I say.

We all shake hands and nod professionally like businessmen. 

"Let the quest begin!" Jason shouts with way too much energy in the face of possible death.

Chapter Text

PERCY

I’m not one to usually complain about the unfairness of life, but I think it’s pretty bullshit that group three gets to ride Festus to wherever the fuck they’re going. I have to put up with Meg’s whining and Annabeth’s silence all the way until we get to the nearest bus stop. Which is really fucking far, if you were wondering.

Rachel, Piper and Reyna meet us at the bus stop. Apparently, they decided to follow us until their brainstorm of “Where Would The Entrance To The Labyrinth Be?” gets any ideas. I feel severely outvoted to be the only male here.

We know that the Argo is docked somewhere in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, so Annabeth’s decided that we’re just gonna bus east until we reach the sea. I think this is a terrible plan, but Annabeth’s boss, so I do as she says.

Rachel has a prophecy moment somewhere in New Jersey, so we say goodbye to her, Piper and Reyna and pray they don’t die. 

I don’t know exactly where we are when the Minotaur hops on the bus, but I hope you know that the whole of New Jersey probably smelt us. Oddly, Annabeth and Meg don’t notice the Minotaur at first. Must be the mist. 

I sense it, rather than see it (because I can't see). Before I can point this out, the Minotaur kindly decided to try and kill us. I heroically leap to my feet to defend the girls with my sword – a gift from my father when I was nine, a random satyr gave it to me in an attempt to bribe me into going to camp. Meg shouts "Cowabunga!" and jumps out the window while Annabeth plays the part of a defenceless mortal and screamed in my ear.

The Minotaur charges at me, I stab it with my sword. The Minotaur, understandably, doesn’t like that and tries to bite my head off.

I don’t know why, but I’ve always called Minotaur’s “Underpants” in my head, mainly because I’ve always pictured them wearing bright red underpants like a superhero or something. I’ve never seen a Minotaur wear bright red underwear – sure, a big white pair that resembles an adult diaper, but not red – but this might just be because I went blind at 10. Who knows, maybe this Minotaur has red underwear instead of white. I’m sure as hell not going to ask it.

Anyways, I dodge Underpants as he tries to bite my head off a second time after failing the first. I jump over a row of seats and end up behind the monster, and then proceed to cut the beast's ugly tail off. It’s a limb for a limb in this world – I just hoped it didn’t rip off my arm, because I’ve become quite fond of those.

Sometimes, when I’m fighting monsters, I have nonsensical theme songs playing in my head. It’s like; oh, you’re dying right now? Don’t worry, bro, I got you! And then it inserts the most randomest music ever. 

Right now, that music was “You’ve got a friend in me” from Toy Story. I had a feeling that I did not in fact, have a friend in the Minotaur. Somewhere, Apollo was laughing his ass off, I’m sure of it.

I did, however, sympathize with the lyrics of being miles and miles away from my nice warm bed. I had only left it a maximum of two and a half hours ago, but the relationship between a boy and his bed is not to be underestimated.

"Hey, smelly, over here!" Annabeth shouts suddenly from the other end of the bus. I don’t know whether she’s talking to me or the Minotaur, but we both turn towards her anyway. Annabeth is waving a piece of fabric in the air, a jacket, if I'm not mistaken. I don’t know where she got it from, so I could only assume that she’d taken advantage of the life-or-death situation and robbed a poor mortal. 

I decide Annabeth would do well in the purge.

The Minotaur lunges at her. Evidently, I wasn’t good enough for it, even though I had cut off its tail and stabbed it with my sword. I told myself I wasn’t jealous. 

Annabeth launches herself into the air at the last second, landing on the Minotaur’s back as he goes headfirst through the front of the bus. I hope the bus driver wouldn’t ask us to pay for the damage. 

I follow the two out of the bus. I’m not quite sure what Annabeth is trying to do, but I get the impression that she’s attempting to induce brain damage to the Minotaur by stabbing it in the head as many times as possible. 

Note: Minotaur’s don’t like being stabbed in the head.

Annabeth goes hurtling over the front of the Minotaur as he shakes his head violently, landing in a crumpled heap in front of him with a groan. Meg appears in front of her before I can, and takes a brutal slash at the Minotaur’s face with her dual blades. The Minotaur roars, and I take this as the perfect time to pounce on its back. I adjust my position and wrap my legs around the Minotaur’s neck, holding onto one of its horns with one hand and my sword with the other.

Note 2: Minotaur’s don’t like people riding them.

It jerks left and right with such force that for a moment I lose my grip on its horn. Then I realise that no, I haven’t, but rather the horn has lost its grip on the Minotaur’s head. I don’t have time to think about how I had literally just single-handedly yanked off a Minotaur horn, because I’m a little bit busy driving my blade through its skull.

If you’re part of the Minotaur Fan Club, please don’t come after me. I’m sorry. I needed to regain my grip somehow and it turns out that holding on to a blade that’s embedded in a bull’s skull is actually a pretty good way to do that.

It’s also a pretty good way to kill a Minotaur, but whatever.

The beast self-combusts underneath me. A bit like how Leo does sometimes, but with less fire and more rotten meat-smelling dust.

I land on Annabeth, and she very meanly kicks me in the face. It’s not my fault the monster I was fighting just evaporated. Annabeth is so unreasonable sometimes.

"There’s no special goddy thing," Meg says from above us, pouting. "Stupid bull-man."

A full twelve hours later, the three of us are trudging through a forest. Maybe it’s not a forest, but it’s got an abundance of trees that keep making me trip over. 

"I’m hungry!" Meg whines for probably the thousandth time in the last hour. Meg is very good at whining. I personally blame it on too much exposure to Leo.

"Eat your muesli bar," Annabeth tells her.

"I already did that."

"Eat your other muesli bar."

Meg shoots Annabeth an exasperated look. ‘There’s no food in my bag. It all like, dissolved when the snake-head dude shot poison at it.’ 

Ah yes, the snake-head dude. Annabeth called him an amphisbaena. I called him rude.

Annabeth sighs. If I had been whinging about food for a full hour, Annabeth would’ve pushed me off the nearest cliff. Favouritism is not good for Meg’s already big ego (again, I blame Leo).

"Well, you’re going to have to wait –"

"I can smell cheeseburgers!" I shout triumphantly.

"Fuck yeah," Meg murmurs. I want to clarify that I did not teach the seven-year-old how to swear.

Annabeth glares at me, like I had just told her I was taking her to Disneyland only to go; oh, whoops, actually I was kidding.

"I’m not joking," I tell her. I point at the trees ahead of us. "There’s cheeseburgers up there."

Meg takes off running, leaving me and Annabeth no choice but to follow. We catch up to her at a road, a building smelling abundantly of McDonalds on the other side.

"See?" I mutter to Annabeth as Meg squeals in delight. Annabeth elbows me in the ribs and huffs. I roll my eyes. Of course, I got stuck with a tired, grumpy Annabeth.

As we cross the road, it becomes obvious that the building is not a fast-food restaurant. If you’ve ever hyped yourself up for McDonald’s, only to not get it, you can imagine my disappointment.

Annabeth and Meg look up at letters written across the sign at the entrance.

"What the heck does that say?" Meg asks, squinting.

"I dunno," I answer. Annabeth shrugs.

"The lights are on," she notices.

"Cheeseburgers," Meg says.

Annabeth and I look at each other. 

"Cheeseburgers," we agree.

I suppose if there had been someone responsible there, they would’ve gone; hey, geniuses, don’t go walking into random shops! Are you crazy?

It was lucky someone responsible wasn’t there, because they would have been wasting their breath. Meg, Annabeth and I walked through the garden as if we were in a trance, the intoxicating fumes of cheeseburgers more enchanting than Piper’s charmspeak.

Annabeth stops at the warehouse door. "A lot of monsters live in warehouses," she says.

I nod. "Cyclopes."

"Telekhines," Annabeth agrees. "Hydras."

"Cheeseburgers," Meg whines, jumping up and down.

"Thalia would tell us not to be stupid if she was here right now," Annabeth says.

"Hylla would call us morons for thinking about knocking on the door," I laugh.

We glance back at the door. 

"Luke would tell us to do anything for a cheeseburger," Annabeth murmurs, before raising her hand to knock on the door.

The door cracks open instantly, as if the person on the other side had been waiting for us. A woman covered head to toe in a long gown steps out, a veil concealing her face.

"Hello, children. It’s too late to be outside alone. Where are your parents?" the woman asks in a vaguely Middle Eastern accent.

I feel Annabeth shift backwards slightly, obviously thinking the same thing I am. No normal person can put that much creepiness into the word children . 

Meg apparently does not care. "Cheeseburgers," she says.

"Your parents are cheeseburgers?" the woman asks, a slight frown in her voice.

Annabeth laughs obnoxiously. "What my sister is trying to say is, we’re orphans. But we’re hungry. For cheeseburgers."

"Orphans?" the word sounds so wrong in that grandma voice the woman has. "Surely not."

"We’re in the circus," I tell her, because it’s always funny making extreme backstories for yourself. "Well, we were in the circus."

"But we ran away," Annabeth adds.

I nod. "Right, because the ringleader was a total ass."

"Forced us to work all day," Annabeth bemoans dramatically, "barely any food. He treated us like we were animals!"

"We almost didn’t escape with our lives!" I say for the drama.

The woman gasps. "Oh, poor dears, you must come in!" she insists, ushering us in, "I’m Aunty Em. Follow me, there’s a dining area at the back."

"Cheeseburgers," Meg grins.

Annabeth moves closer to me as we follow Aunty Em. "This place is full of statues," she whispers into my ear.

"What’s so bad about statues?"

She shakes her head. "Their faces are all full of fear. And they’re all life-sized too. Like… like they’re real people trapped in the stone."

"You think somethings wrong?" I ask her. Annabeth only shrugs, frowning. I can tell what she’s thinking. We’ve been on our own for years, and the first thing a rogue demigod learns is that if it seems too good to be true, it is. There’s always another monster around the corner, and I’m no satyr, but for what I’ve lost in sight, I make up for in my senses. 

There’s definitely a monster around here, and right now, the only candidate is Aunty Em.

"The prophecy says we’ll face the one not seen," Annabeth mutters, "and that woman is like, decked in black. Like every single inch of her."

It’s too late to back out now, I reason, because Meg is already way too infatuated with the thought of cheeseburgers.

"We’ll be fine," I tell Annabeth. "We always are."

"Please sit down," Aunty Em implores of us when we reach the dining area.

"We don’t have any money, ma’am," Annabeth says as she settles into one of the chairs.

"Oh, don’t worry dears. This is my special treat," Aunty Em says, but I can feel her stiffen at Annabeth all the same.

Annabeth looks at me. No human would accept no payment for their hospitality. Except my mum, but that’s just because she’s a queen.

Our host disappears around a counter, and before we know it, she’s brought us trays of cheeseburgers, vanilla shakes, and french fries. Aunty Em eats nothing, despite the large portion of food.

I have to push the cheeseburger away from Meg’s face before she forgets to breathe. I shift in my seat as I slurp my shake. 

"Do you hear hissing?" I ask Annabeth quietly. She frowns and shakes her head.

"Hissing?" Aunty Em asks so loudly I jump. "You must be hearing the deep-fryer, Percy. You have keen ears."

"Um, yeah… from being in the circus, you know?"

Annabeth’s hand finds my arm, and she taps out a sentence in Morse code. She knows your name.

I squeeze her hand. We’ll be fine .

"So, you sell statues," I say, trying to sound interested. Rule one of Annabeth Chase’s Guide to Monsters: if they can talk, keep them talking.

Just because we live without parental guidance, it doesn’t mean we don’t educate ourselves. Monster classes every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday, training every day at noon, and on Sundays, we read the classic Greek myths.

"Oh, yes. Anything for the gardens," Aunty Em says.

"I like gardens," Meg interjects between stuffing fries into her mouth. 

"You get a lot of business down this road?" I ask.

"Ah, not so much anymore. Most cars don’t come this way since the highways were built. I must cherish every customer I get."

Annabeth’s voice rings through my mind; their faces are all full of fear… they’re life-sized too.

I swallow heavily as Aunty Em continues.

"Some of my creations don’t turn out so well. The face is always the hardest to get right."

"You make these yourself?" Annabeth asks. Aunty Em stiffens before answering.

"Oh, yes. It’s just me and my statues here. Once, I had two sisters to help me run this business, but they have passed on, and Aunty Em is all alone."

Annabeth nudges me. It’s never a good sign when a person starts talking about themselves in third person.

"Two sisters?" Annabeth asks, and I could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

"A terrible story," Aunty Em sighs, "Not one for children, really. You see, Annabeth, a bad woman was jealous of me, long ago, when I was young. I had a… a boyfriend, you know, and this bad woman was determined to break us apart. 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."

Annabeth grabs my arm and squeezes it so tightly her nails cut into my skin. It’s Medusa , she taps out.

Oh.

Aunty Em.

Aunty “M”.

Medusa.

Gods, I’m stupid.

"We really need to go," Annabeth says, standing up. "We don’t want to be caught in the dark. Come on, Meg."

"I don’t want to go though," Meg complains, her eyes heavy. "It’s warm here. Aunty Em is so nice."

Panic seizes my chest. Meg didn’t just trust people so easily. It had taken her ages to warm up to my mum, and she was the most loving, nicest, patient person on Earth. I came to the conclusion Meg had been brainwashed.

"Please, dears, won’t you at least sit for a pose before you go?" Aunty Em asks sweetly.

"A pose?" Annabeth asks apprehensively.

‘"For a photograph. So I can model a new statue. Children are so popular."

"I don’t think we have time," Annabeth shifts agitatedly. "Come on, Meg –"

"I love pictures!" Meg shouts, moving out of Annabeth’s reach. Annabeth bites her cheek but follows Meg as Aunty Em leads her into the garden of statues.

"Not much light for a photo," Annabeth remarks as calmly as possible, which is fairly calm. Annabeth’s good at keeping her head during a crisis.

"Oh, there’s enough."

"Where’s your camera?" Meg asks excitedly as she sits down on the bench between Annabeth and I.

Aunty Em steps back, ignoring the question. "Such a lovely image. Can you smile for me, please? A large smile, everyone!"

Annabeth grips my arm. Plan?

Grab Meg and go, I tap back.

Not leaving you .

I’ll be fine. If she lifts the veil, run .

I can tell Annabeth doesn’t like the idea, but I am not about to let her be turned into a statue.

"Just a moment," Aunty Em says, still with no camera. "You know, I can’t see your faces in this cursed veil…"

I can feel the water particles move around Aunty Em as she raises her arms to lift off her veil. I shoot to my feet, my sword appearing in my hand as I hear Annabeth dive at Meg. 

"Don’t look at her, Meg!" Annabeth shouts. Meg screams, having no idea what’s going on.

I hear a raspy sound, the hissing of several snakes coming closer. I have a split second to think; oh shit, she’s closer than I thought, before the woman – gorgon? – is grabbing my face with her gnarled talons and forcing my chin up.

Annabeth screams. I blink once, twice, before bursting into laughter.

"Why aren’t you turning into stone?!" Medusa shouts, her talons digging into my skin. "Look at me!"

‘"Lady," I wheeze, tears of mirth falling down my face, "I’m blind."

Silence echoes around the warehouse for several long moments. Even Medusa’s snakes seem shocked.

Then, I hear Annabeth fall into a fit of giggles.

"Oh my gods," she cackles, "Holy Hephaestus, this is too good –"

Medusa shoves me away, throwing her arms into the air.

"Blind?! How am I supposed to turn you into a statue? What kind of hero is blind?!" she growls.

I narrow my eyes. "Are you making fun of me?"

"What?"

"Are you making fun of me for being blind?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow, "Bro."

"I – that’s not what I’m saying –" Medusa says frustratedly. 

"You know, you should never bully a disabled person," I say, shaking my head. "Honestly, monsters these days. I never thought you’d be an ableist, but here we are."

"I’m not!" Medusa cries indignantly. "I would never!"

"But you did," I say, putting on my best Disappointed™ face. "You should be ashamed."

"I would never make fun of a blind person!" Medusa screeches at me, her snakes hissing at me angrily. "I have blind friends, you know!"

"You’re not helping your case," I bite my cheek to stop myself from laughing as I hear Annabeth fall over from her giggles.

"I AM NOT MAKING FUN OF YOU!" Medusa screams in my face, and if I had any less self-restraint I would’ve burst into laughter again. 

"Hey, no, it’s okay. I really shouldn’t have expected any better from a monster. Chill, bro."

"You’ve made me feel bad," Medusa growls, pacing away from me. "Do you want another cheeseburger?"

"Nah, I’m okay."

"Are you sure? Maybe another vanilla shake before I try to kill you again?"

"Don’t worry about it, lady, seriously. Don’t feel bad."

"Are you sure?" Medusa’s voice is full of rage, apprehension and guilt. I thank improv class with Rachel, because I would be rolling on the floor in tears if not for them.

"Look, if it makes you feel better, there is something you can do to make up for it," I say, because one must always take advantage of a dire situation.

"Yes?"

"So, you know what Aegis is, right?" I begin, "Of course you do. It’s literally got your face on it. Odd fashion statement, if you ask me. Maybe Athena’s quirky like that, I don’t know. The point is, do you have it lying around by any chance?"

Medusa hisses at me. "Ah, you are a pawn for the Olympians. How… admirable," she sneers.

I snort. "You and I both know the Olympians are anything but admirable," I say. "I’m only here to stop a war, lady. So if you don’t mind…"

"A give up the one piece of leverage I have against the goddess that turned me into this?!" Medusa screeches. "Never!"

"I just don’t see how it’s leverage," I say, waving my sword around at my side. "I mean like, I don’t see Athena down here all distressed over it. What are you hoping to achieve? Do you think she’ll come down here and be like; yo, you know how I gave you a bad hairdo a few thousand years ago? Sorry for that! I’ll fix it if you give back my cloak though!" I laugh despite myself. "Me, personally, I would never be that distressed over a piece of clothing."

"You’re a fool, Percy Jackson!" Medusa wails. "Don’t you know what it’s worth?"

"Um, yeah, no, I don’t really care. I just want to go home."

"I’m not giving it to you."

"That’s ridiculous. What would you even use it for? What, do you just want to look at an imprint of your face all day?"

'You are not funny, Percy Jackson –"

"That was a genuine question, but okay. Unrelated, but why do you know how to make cheeseburgers? Did the Ancient Greeks have them or something? Were you a chef before you got turned into a monster?"

"I – what?" Medusa asks, puzzled. I think she’s forgotten that she’s supposed to be killing me right now.

"It’s just, they tasted really good. Like seriously, you hypnotized Meg. Did you go to a McDonald’s chef course?"

"Uh – no… thank you?" Medusa shakes her head. "Stop distracting me! I’m trying to kill you!"

"How?" I ask, tilting my head. "Are you going to turn me to stone? How would that work? I can’t see you. Oh, will your snakes shoot venom at me? I met a dude with two snakes for a head earlier."

"Excuse me?" Medusa blinks, like she’s trying to picture a man with two snake heads. "Nevermind. I don’t care. I’m going to kill you."

"You haven’t told me how, though," I point out. "With your snakes?"

"What? No. They’re not poisonous –"

"Oh, what kind are they then? Pythons? Or are they all different types?"

"It’s – It’s a variety, you know, Burmese pythons, kingsnakes, sand boas… but that doesn’t matter! I don’t need my snakes! I can impale you with my talons." Medusa waves her hands around, as if to display her amazing talons even though I couldn’t see them.

"Oh, seriously?" I ask, "That’s so funny, because I had be impaled by gorgon talons on my bucket list. Thank you so much!"

‘What?’ Medusa stares at me, "Child, do you have a death wish?"

"No, I just think I should never limit myself to the scenarios in which I might die," I say, shrugging. Sometimes, I think I am so full of bullshit. "Like, who knows? Maybe I’ll be eaten by a Cyclops. Maybe I’ll get stuck in a tree and starve to death. That actually almost happened to me once. Maybe I’ll be impaled by gorgon talons. You can’t predict these things, you know what I’m saying?"

"No," Medusa tells me, her forehead creasing in concern. "Please, shut up."

"Would you give me the Aegis if I did?"

"No," Medusa crosses her arms. "I’ve already told you I’m not giving it to you."

"Guess I’m not shutting up then," I smile and settle back down on the garden bench.

"I will just kill you," Medusa threatens me.

"Okay."

Medusa stares at me, annoyed. "Okay?? What is wrong with you? I am literally about to stab you with my talons."

I shrug. "I don’t see why you haven’t done so already, you talk about it so much."

Either Medusa is still guilty over the blind comment, or she’s just really fucking confused, but she doesn’t move. 

"So," I say, "have you ever watched The Little Mermaid?"

"What?"

"The Little Mermaid. The Disney Movie. Sometimes my friends call me Ariel because I act like a spastic fish." Distantly, I hear Annabeth let out a howl of laughter. "What Disney Princess would you be?"

"Disney Princess… What –" Medusa shakes her head, "are you alright? In the head?"

"Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the Disney Princesses?!" I gasp, mocking offence. "Not even Snow White?"

"Who… Who’s Snow White?" Medusa says quietly, like she feels like she might regret asking.

I leap to my feet. "Okay, picture this. You’re like, fourteen, which is incredibly disturbing when you think about it. You’re a princess. Your dad just died, and now you’re stuck with your stepmother, who’s like in love with a magic mirror or something. Anyways, one day, you’re like just doing normal princess stuff, you know, like singing to birds and dreaming about princes and generally just having no direction in life, and some random hunter comes down and he’s like; yo princess, wanna go into the forest? And you’re fourteen okay, so you’re like 'sure why the fuck not'. You following?"

"Um…"

"Great," I grin, "so you hop on this hunter’s horse and he takes you to the centre of the woods and you go do some teenage girl stuff like I don’t know, picking flowers and frolicking with rabbits, and then you turn around and this motherfucking hunter dude is pointing a knife at you. You’re like; ayo, what the fuck bro, and he’s like; listen, your step mum was talking to her mirror and it said you were prettier than her and now she wants me to kill you and bring her your heart. And you like, don’t think too hard about that because that sounds like something she would do. Like. Okay, how can I make a comparison here? Ok. So it’s like, Hera is the evil step mum, and all of Zeus’ kids and affairs are Snow White, yeah? And Hera’s like well this is bullshit, kill all the kids. And all the kids are like, what the actual fuck, you’re a psycho. Capisce?"

Medusa makes a horrified sound. "Excuse me?! That's horrible"

"Yeah, weird right? So anyways, you’re like; hey Mr Hunter dude, how about actually you just don’t kill me? And the hunter’s like; yeah what the heck I’ll just give her a pig’s heart or something but do me a favour and never go back to the kingdom again . And then this full-grown dude completely abandons you in the woods with no supplies, and you’re like what the hell, guess I’ll just live with the trees for the rest of my life. So then you start singing with the birds and shit, because why the fuck not. And the birds are like; hey girl, look at this random house over here. Come check this out . And you’re like sure, what the heck, so you do. And there are seven really tiny beds inside, but you don’t really care because you’re tired. So you just push them together and fall asleep."

"I would never do that," Medusa protests, "I would never break into someone else’s house."

"Ok, yeah, but you’re a self-entitled fourteen-year-old," I reason. "You don’t really give a shit. Anyway, then you wake up, and these seven little dudes are staring at you and you’re like what the heck bro? Anyways, these dwarves are like what the heck are you doing in our house, and you’re like, I don’t know man, my step mum is a psycho and wants to kill me. And these dwarves are like oh, Major L. You should live with us and clean our house. You think this sounds kinda shifty, but these dudes are literally called sleepy and grumpy and bashful and shit, so you don’t ask questions."

"They’re… they’re forcing me to be their servant?" Medusa asks, tilting her head.

"Well, yeah, I guess. I mean, you probably had a choice, but really it was clean a house every day or die in the woods so…" I shrug. "Look, it’s not supposed to make sense. Anyways, these dwarves go off to work in the mines and you take a walk and by coincidence run into a prince who’s like twice your age and you like, sing about stuff and fall in love. Then he leaves. And you go back and cook like, pie, for your dwarf family. Then a witch who’s actually you’re stepmother in disguise turns up at your front door and gives you an apple, and you’re like; hey, this is probably poisoned! But you eat it anyway. And guess what? It was poisoned. So you die. Then the dwarves come back and they’re all upset because you can’t cook for them anymore, so then they make you like a casket out of glass and stare at you for a bit."

"I ate food that a completely random witch gave me?" Medusa frowns, "Isn’t that irresponsible? Stupid? Why would I do that?"

"I don’t know. You’re dumb. Anyways, then the prince you fell in love with early comes back and kisses you while you’re dead, and you like… stop being dead. True love’s kiss. Then you both go and get married and kill your stepmother. The end."

Medusa blinks at me, and I can feel the horror radiating from her. "That’s – that’s a children’s story?!"

"Yeah," I tell her.

"But the prince kisses her without consent! He’s twice her age! How long have they known each other?!" Medusa demands.

"I don’t know, a day?"

Medusa claws at her face with her hands. "This is terrifying. Why would they tell children this? Why would you tell me this?"

"You asked!"

"You started it!" Medusa sounds close to tears. "Please, just go away!"

"No way!" I say, because I haven’t gotten what I came here for. "There’s so much more Disney Princesses to tell you about! Cinderella, Jasmine, Mulan –"

"No!" Medusa screams, "No more princesses! What do I have to do to make you leave?! Do you want more cheeseburgers? Can I give you more cheeseburgers to make you go away?!"

"I’ll go away if you give me Athena’s Aegis?" I say, offering the gorgon a shit-eating grin.

"Wait here," she says, before disappearing.

I blink back at her, agape. I had not expected her to give in, but I had obviously underestimated how much Snow White could traumatise a monster.

"Here," Medusa thrusts the shield into my arms. "Now get out! Don’t come back, please."

"Are you serious?" I ask, because I legitimately cannot believe this. "You’re just giving it to me?"

"Please leave!" she wails. "No more princesses!"

"Are you sure?" I begin walking backwards, towards where Annabeth and Meg are hiding.

"Yes!" Medusa covers her ears. "Never come back!"

I bit my lip to stop myself from keeling over and losing my shit right there and then. "Ok. Thanks! See you around, I guess!"

"No!" Medusa shouts.

I make it all the way outside to Annabeth and Meg before bursting into laughter. Annabeth is already hysterical, literal tears running down her face. Meg stands over her, staring down in concern.

"Oh – My – Gods," she manages to get out. "Percy – Percy, you just –" she can barely say anything through her laughter, and I can barely hear her through mine. "You just – Snow White?!"

I shake my head, trying to breathe. "I don’t know. I don’t know, Annie."

It takes several minutes for both Annabeth and I to regain our composures. Every time she looks at me, she falls into a fit of giggles that sends me into a spiral of breathless laughter. Eventually, we manage to pick ourselves off the ground and keep walking.

"I can’t believe you," she wheezes to me. "You just annoyed Medusa into submission. With a Disney Princess. Oh gods."

"If they can talk, keep them talking, right?" I say, just as bemused myself. 

Meg huffs and rolls her eyes. "You guys are crazy, and I’m tired."

It’s already dark, so we stop and set up camp with one of Leo’s retractable tents. I’ve never really trusted these, because one time one tried to eat Jason, but they’re small and they fit into our backpacks, so they’re ideal for right now.

I start up a fire for warmth while Annabeth gets Meg to fall asleep. She comes back out, the Aegis in her hands, and sits next to me in front of the fire.

"We can’t carry this around with us," she says, "it’ll attract more monsters than it’ll scare away, and it’s way too heavy to lug around everywhere."

"We’ll mail it to Olympus then," I say, "hang on, I’ve got the sticky notes and a pen in my backpack."

I hand Annabeth the two items. She uncaps the pen, sticks out her tongue, and takes several minutes to put together the words. Eventually, she smiles triumphantly and hands me the sticky note. 

"Does that seem right?"

Reading the still wet ink off the page with my little mermaid powers, I gather the note says something like this: 

Too Athena, Mt Olympus. 

Pleese don’t lose yore sheeld agian.

Xoxo, Annabeth.

I squint and then shrug my shoulders. "Seems fine to me."

Annabeth beams before pressing the sticky note on the Aegis and watching as it disappears in a flash of light.

"You go get some sleep," I tell her after a while of listening to the fire crackle. "I’ll keep first watch."

Chapter Text

REYNA

The entrance to the most elaborate, legendary, ancient maze of the renowned architect Daedalus was in a public restroom. 

Yes, you heard that right. A public restroom. 

A small, frankly disgusting, block of bricks that sat on the edge of an abandoned oval where it looked like people would play sports. The entrance wasn’t even on the woman’s side, we had to go into the men's. 

"Are you sure it’s here?" Piper asks Rachel, who only nods grimly in return, pinching her nose.

The brick walls are covered in crude graffiti, and I notice Piper scrunch up her nose. 

"I don’t see any entrance," I say, looking around. I hope we don’t have to get flushed down any toilets or anything like they did in movies, because that would be disgusting. I think I might just quit the quest if that was the case.

Thankfully, Rachel just walks up to the sinks. She crouches between two and tilts her head, staring at the bare bricks in front of her, before she knocks twice on one in particular. I watch, oddly fascinated, as the bricks move away from each other to create a small entrance. I’m vaguely reminded of that brick passageway in Harry Potter. And also that one time Harry Potter snuck into a girl’s bathroom just to go underground and fight a giant snake.

I shiver involuntarily at the thought. I am not going to be fighting any giant snakes today, thanks.

Piper squats beside Rachel, peering into the dark tunnel leading down.

"That looks fun," she says, enthusiastically.

"Thanks for volunteering to go first."

I’m not going to lie, I had an evil grin on my face as I pushed Piper forward. I hear her let out a loud oof and then scream down the surprisingly long tunnel down.

Rachel looks at me, trying to appear disapproving. It probably doesn’t help that the corners of her mouth are twitching and her eyes are alight with amusement. "That was mean," she tells me.

I shrug. "Cowabunga?"

Rachel throws her head back and laughs. "You spend too much time with Meg."

I slide myself down the tunnel. It’s steep, and my momentum gains fast, causing my heart to jump up to my throat. I may or may not have screamed. I land on my butt at Piper’s feet, out of breath.

"Fuck you," she huffs, kicking me. I don’t even have time to retaliate, because a second later Rachel is flying out of the tunnel behind me and landing on my back.

After Rachel and I have untangled ourselves and struggled to our feet, Piper helpfully informs us that we’ve fallen into a room full of very real, very alive, very big fucking snakes.

Damn it, Harry Potter!

Piper is 100% too calm about this, especially as one of the said snakes is wrapping itself around her waist. She smiles at me like; this is fine ! And I conclude that she’s probably already been bitten by the snake and now her mind is turning into mush.

A snake tries to slither its way up Rachel’s legs, and she screams, jumping into my arms in a cartoon-like fashion. I almost laugh, but then a snake moves over my feet, and I feel more like crying.

Rachel clings to my neck, screeching directly into my ear. I catch Piper’s eye, and she shoots me a dazed grin. 

In my professional opinion, we are fucked. 

"Rachel," I say, "you need to get off me."

Rachel responds with something similar to; AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!, which translates roughly to; No fucking way!

"I am going to drop you," I reply, because no matter what level of skill I hold myself to, I cannot swordfight with a screaming redhead in my arms. 

Rachel sobs. I try to be sympathetic, but I’m just a little busy dying on the inside. I know Rachel has an intense fear of snakes the way Annabeth has an intense fear of spiders, something we’ve attributed to her being the Oracle of Delphi. If Annabeth was in a room with this many large spiders, she probably would’ve fallen into a coma by now, so I make a mental note to congratulate Rachel if we ever survive. 

Slowly, Rachel lowers herself to her feet, her hand still keeping my arm in a death grip. I try not to wince as her nails cut into my skin – I’m sure they’re not as bad as snake fangs. 

"We should try to work out whether they’re venomous or if they suffocate their prey," I say diplomatically. Piper laughs somewhere to my side, and I glance at her, almost crying out in despair.

Several snakes have latched themselves onto her, slowly coiling around her body.

"I think –" she gasps softly as one of the snakes around her chest subtly tightens. "I think they’re the suffocating kind."

A loud thud declares Rachel’s new status as probably dead from fear. 

The only comfort I have in this whole situation is that it’s dark. I can barely even see Piper, because she keeps shifting backwards. The only light is from the narrow tunnel above us. I don’t know how many snakes are slithering around us, but judging by the sound, I would probably guess somewhere between 100 and 1000.

I slip off my backpack, violently shaking off a small snake that had decided to settle there, and reach my hand in, praying no snakes had snuck inside. My hand closes around my torch and I pull it out, flicking it on.

I almost immediately switch it off again.

I close my eyes and count to 10. I change my estimate to somewhere around 1 million.

I switch my torch on again, trying not to cry at how the beam of light reveals a thick carpet of snakes as far as I can see. I can’t even tell where the walls are, because they’re covered in reptiles.

I flash the torch onto Rachel and Piper. Piper’s almost completely disappeared at this point. One or two snakes have latched onto Rachel, but I kick them off with my shoe. The others don’t seem to notice her, and I vaguely recall Annabeth saying how snakes are attracted to movement.

I reach back into my backpack and pull out my small, pocket-sized version of Annabeth Chase’s Guide To Monsters . Sure, snakes aren’t monsters, but some snakes are, right?

I flip to the S section and stop at snakes. 

Snakes:

You might be looking for:

- Amphisbaena [see page 10]

• Two snakes for a head.

- Basilisk [see page 19]

• Sharp teeth, small, green. Probably spitting poison.

- Carthaginian Serpent [see page 31]

• Orange eyes, really big, smells a lot.

- Dracaena [see page 37]

• Two snake trunks instead of legs.

- Gorgons [see page 74]

• Euryale, Medusa and Stheno. Snake hair.

- Hydras [see page 87]

• Three snake heads.

- Kekrops [see page 98]

• Like a centaur, but snake instead of the horse bit.

- Python [see page 146]

• Ancient foe of Apollo, really big, probably smells.

Oh, you’re looking for help for just regular snakes? Kind of lame. Use garlic, onions, spices, vinegar, smoke, cinnamon etc. Anything that smells strong or bitter.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Annabeth would not be calling this situation lame if she were here. Unfortunately, I was freshly out of my stock of garlic, onions and various spices, and I didn’t have Meg to spontaneously grow some. What I did have though, were matches.

Oh, Reyna, you might be asking, why the fuck would we care if you have fire sticks?  Well, that’s because matches make fire. And what does fire make? That’s right kids: smoke. I pull the matches and a sheet of paper out of my bag,  and crouch down as I strike a match along the side of the matchbox. 

To my relief, the match ignites, and I quickly press the flames onto the paper. I move the paper towards Piper and the snakes wrapped around her hiss and move away from the smell. 

Piper gasps as she’s released, her eyes wide with panic, and I realise with a jolt that she had been standing still so she didn’t attract any additional snakes, and that her body movements had been relaxed before because she didn’t want to appear aggressive. 

The piece of paper crumples to ash in my hands and I fumble for my torch again. Piper presses close to me, shivering minutely but trying to hide it. 

"What’s the plan?" she breathes into my ear. 

"Fire," I say, rummaging around my bag. If I want to get out of this room, I have to make enough smoke to ward the snakes away from us, and a singular piece of paper isn’t going to achieve that. I pull out a plastic container full of handy little things like hair pins, drachmas, and bandaids, and empty the contents at the bottom of my backpack. 

Piper watches me as I strike a match and hold it up to the plastic.

"Hold your breath," I warn, "don’t breathe in the fumes. And grab Rachel."

I look around for the exit before setting the plastic on fire. I thank the Gods that I’m underground, because Meg might just kill me if I pulled a stunt like this outside and harmed the environment.

The plastic immediately chokes out thick fumes of black smoke, and I hold it as far away as I can from my face, trying not to breathe in. Quickly, I grab my torch and bag and move towards the exit, scaring away the snakes with the toxic vapour. I hear Piper dragging Rachel close behind me as my hand closes around the cold door handle.

I pull on the door a few times before managing to yank it open, and I immediately gasp in the fresh air and light. Piper shuffles past me with a now half-conscious Rachel, and I chuck the hot plastic into the pit of snakes before slamming the door closed.

I almost allow myself to relax, before remembering I’m a demigod. I scan the area around me, and find myself on a small ledge overlooking a large, deep cavern. I look down and – nope, nope, I’m not looking down.

"Hey, guys," I whisper, "I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but we’re sitting above a huge arena full of monsters."

Piper and Rachel lean down on either side of me and see for themselves, as if I would lie about something like that. Rachel leans back first, her face white. Rachel’s always seen the worst of the world – not in a perspective of life way, more in the physically visual sense. Rachel’s a clear-sighted mortal, which means she sees everything clearly, as opposed to demigods who see the world through halved lenses. If I think a monster is bad, it doubles for Rachel.

Piper pulls back eventually, her eyes calculating. "What do we do?"

Rachel jerks her head to the left, towards a small ledge below us. I can’t see where it leads, but Rachel obviously can. 

"There’s another door," she says. "We can’t jump down from this height."

I shudder at the implications of her words – that we’re going to have to cross through the arena at some point, and follow her as she slowly shuffles down to the other ledge. It’s not a high drop, but it’s enough to make my stomach swoop. I land on my feet evenly and move out of the way as Piper jumps down. 

"Pass me a hairpin," Rachel says from where she’s already examining the door. I reach for my bag, but Piper beats me and pulls one out of her pocket. A small click signals that Rachel has unlocked the door, but before we can pass through it, a loud roar echoes from below.

Or, should I say, roars. 

The sound of hundreds of monsters cheering floats up to our ears and threatens to deafen us. For a split-second, I think we’ve been caught, but as I peer over the edge beside Piper and Rachel I realise that’s not true. We haven’t been caught, but something definitely has.

A tall figure is standing in the middle of the arena – he must be ten feet tall, at least , but he’s bending down. Even from this height, I can see a smug smile painted across his face, with white teeth so dazzling I wonder if he has ties to Aphrodite – or maybe even Apollo. In front of him, a Cyclops holds up a squirming girl.

The girl has dark hair which I figure must’ve been braided once, but strands had fallen out due to her struggling. She’s dressed in a silver parka that seems to glow, and she’s also screaming curses in what I think might be Ancient Greek at the monster in front of her.

I spot a small group of girls in similar attire being pushed into a cage with silver bars. 

"They’re the Hunters of Artemis," Piper realises beside me, and I know instantly that she’s right. We’ve run into the Hunters a few times over the years, usually when they’re pursuing a monster that either Jason or Percy thought would be fun to hunt too. They mainly steer clear of the Argo, though, so we don’t see them as often as we did when we were living everywhere.

"They must be here for Artemis’ bow," Rachel says, pointing out the offending object hanging proudly behind the tall man. I internally scream.

"'A prize to win from a Hunter’s foe'," I say, echoing the words of Rachel’s prophecy. "Who… who is that dude?"

Piper pulls out her copy of Annabeth Chase’s Guide To Monsters from her pocket and flicks to the index. She scans the pages listed as Artemis until she comes across the O section of the monster dictionary. 

"Oh," she says quietly. Silently, she passes the book to Rachel and I, and we both lean in.

Orion

A vicious foe of Artemis [see page 12] and Apollo [see page 11], the giant was born to oppose the two archer twins, but stayed out of the war known as the Gigantomachy. He was said to be quite a handsome monster, to the point where he could easily pass as an extremely tall human.

Orion did not participate in the war between the gods and giants. Instead, he stayed and served the King of Chios, Oinopion, as a loyal hunter. However, he tried to court the King’s daughter, and the King had him blinded and exiled.

While stumbling blinding, Orion was said to have run into Hephaestus [see page 85], who restored the giant’s eyesight with a pair of mechanical eyes even better than his original ones. 

At some point, Orion met and befriended Artemis, who was impressed with his hunting skills so much that she allowed him to join her Hunters as the first-ever male. At first, Orion honoured the boundaries between the girls, and kept his distance, but his admiration for Artemis soon turned to love.

Apollo, fearing his sister would break her vows of maidenhood, cursed Orion with the urge to hunt every beast on Earth. It is said that through his rampage, he caught the attention of the sleeping primordial goddess Gaea [see page 72], who sent a giant scorpion to sting Orion and finally end his life.

As a child of Gaea, Orion, like the rest of the giants, can only be killed by a demigod and a god working together. However, you can assume that as a sentient being, he would have a sense of pride, made even stronger by his hunter instincts. He would not turn down a challenge, but beware of the fact that he is more likely to sense a trap than his brethren are.

Orion was rumoured to have regenerated a century ago and has become a threat to Artemis’ Hunters.

"So, we’re fucked," Rachel concludes. 

"Don’t worry guys," Piper says sarcastically, "I’ll just call up one of my godly buddies and get them down here to kick his ass. We’ll be fine."

"If he’s got eyes gifted to him by Hephaestus, would it be a stretch to believe that he could see through a ledge of dirt like, I don’t know, the one we’re sitting on, and spot us?" I say, swallowing. 

"We’re going," Rachel declares, delicately not mentioning the fact that we have to come back some way or another. I conclude that the only reason Orion hadn’t spotted us was because he was preoccupied with the Hunter in front of him.

You know that feeling when you really don’t want to do something, but you’ve got to do it anyway? That’s the feeling Piper, Rachel and I had as we walked as slowly as possible around the Labyrinth until Rachel led us to a stop in front of two very large doors. 

Now when I say as slowly as possible, I mean we would purposefully drop things only to conveniently remember we had dropped it after we had already been walking for like five minutes and we’d have to turn around to pick it up again. I mean we would inexplicably lay on the ground for a good fifteen minutes and rethink our life choices. I mean Rachel would “accidentally” lead us off path and we would run into a random Cyclops on the toilet and stab him in the eye.

But despite all of that, we had ended up in front of the doors anyway. 

"So," Piper says, clapping her hands together and bouncing on the balls of her feet, "what’s the game plan, guys?"

You’re probably thinking, why the fuck did you not plan your attack during your excessively long procrastination walk? And to that, I have no answer for you. 

"Personally, I vote ninja mode," I say. I love ninja mode, not only because it makes me feel professional, but because it’s always so hilarious to see the look of absolute bafflement on a monster's face before I karate kick them in the face.

"Yes, Reyna, let’s fucking ninja mode the immortal hunter-giant," Rachel rolls her eyes. I think it would be an understatement to say she’s quite stressed right now. Maybe, just maybe.

Piper pulls her hair up into a ponytail and grabs her dagger. "I love ninja mode! It’s badass."

"That’s two to one," I say, raising my eyebrow at Rachel.

"My vote counts as extra because I’m obviously the only one here with brain cells."

I laugh as Rachel crosses her arms. "You’re so funny, Rach."

"Hold up, pause!" Piper interrupts before Rachel can retort. I turn my head to look at her, confused, and note that she’s suddenly lost quite a lot of colour. She looks almost sickly pale in the dim light.

"So, you know how earlier Reyna was like, 'If Mr Hunter dude has magic eyes, do you think he would be able to see through shit?'" Piper begins, in a terrible imitation of me. Rachel and I both nod our heads slowly, confused. "Well," Piper takes a deep breath, "what if he can? What if he can see through, oh, I don’t know, two very large doors?!"

The three of us turn towards the doors in sync, swallowing. We hear someone let out a cold chuckle, clapping their hands slowly. The double doors swing open slowly, leaving Piper, Rachel and I more than enough time to regret our lives. Thousands of looming monsters grin at us from around the arena. Orion shoots us a lazy smirk from when he’s sitting on a throne in front of where the bow of Artemis hangs.

"So nice of you to finally join us," he says, his voice echoing around the cavern. 

I lock eyes with Piper, and we come to the agreement that we will under no circumstances be doing ninja mode today. That leaves only two other modes; gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, or I Accept Death And Surrender. 

One thing about me; I don’t really do I Accept Death And Surrender mode.

Piper plasters an absurdly fake smile onto her face and gasps, clutching a hand over her chest. "Oh, really, the pleasure is all ours to be here! We love watching, um, stuff in this arena. It’s like, our favourite hang-out place. Who needs cinemas when you have this place, right?"

Piper’s rambling. She does that a lot when she’s nervous. I wonder idly whether this is falling under gaslight, gatekeep or girlboss. 

"And really, we’re so sorry to be late. Did we miss lunch?"

"You’re just in time for dessert," a monster on our left mutters. Piper laughs loudly.

"That’s so funny!" her voice echoes around the arena. "You’re soooo hilarious! You should look into comedian careers!" The monster who had spoken stares at her blankly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Orion flicking his wrist. Three Cyclopes descend down on us, grabbing us around the waists and carrying us forward. 

"Oh man," Piper whispers on my left. "This is giving me Cyclops-On-The-Toilet flashbacks."

I resist the desire to laugh. I am probably about to die and laughing would be inappropriate.

"Would this be a really bad time to mention I’m feeling the prophetic urge to get possessed?" Rachel mutters on my other side. 

"Yes," I hiss back. "A really, really, bad time! Don’t get possessed, Rachel!"

"Okay, I’ll just press pause on spontaneous prophetic slash spiritual possession," Rachel’s voice is strained, and her green eyes seem to glow a little more brightly than usual. We cannot gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss while Rachel’s soul is being manhandled by the spirit of Delphi.

When the Cyclopes drop us unceremoniously in a heap on the floor, Orion rises to loom over us. I almost impulsively call him a dramatic bitch, since he was looming over us before he stood up, but I don’t because I imagine he will probably bite my head off if I do.

He smiles. It’s a creepy smile, with way too much sharp teeth. His breath smells… minty, which almost makes me laugh. From this angle, I can see right up his nose. I swallow the giggle rising in my throat and hope I’m doing a great job at keeping my face impassive. Piper is looking down at her feet, probably because if she catches my eye we’ll both be laughing our heads off – Literally, because Orion will probably decapitate us for being mentally insane.

Rachel, on the other hand, looks like she is going to throw up. I don’t know whether this is because she’s surrounded by a thousand hideous monsters or because she’s struggling to push back prophetic visions. Well, at least she won’t be horribly decapitated like me and Piper, because her status as the Oracle of Delphi gives her immunity to immortals trying to kill her. 

The silence stretches on. I look around the arena, bored. My eyes land on the silver barred cage of the Hunters of Artemis. They stare back at me, like they can’t understand what stupidity overtook Piper, Rachel and me to come here by ourselves. The lieutenant, whose name is on the tip of my tongue, has her arms crossed. She juts her chin towards Artemis’ bow, and I shrug in an ‘I’ll get it if I don’t die’ kind of way. 

I glance back at Orion, who’s still staring at us. I wonder what he’s waiting for. Glancing around the cavern again, my gaze catches on a slightly hazy spot of air. Hazy, as in, it’s rippling. The way air does with Iris Messages, but with less rainbows. I tilt my head, frowning. Is Annabeth trying to contact us, maybe? No, this isn’t how Iris Messages work. The only other thing I can think of is if somebody else is watching us…

Piper coughs, an odd strangled sound that sounds like she was covering up a giggle, causing my head to turn to look at her. The silence is starting to kill me.

"So," I say after a few more minutes of unbearable silence. I catch Orion’s eyes. "Um, hi."

Piper bursts into laughter. She doubles over, holding her ribs and gasping for air. Rachel slumps backwards, passing out. Her eyes are open and her pupils have rolled back. That’s the second time she’s passed out today. Orion sneers at me.

He scowls at me, displaying his inhumanly sharp teeth. "Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano. It takes a great deal of bravery to venture into my lair."

"Thanks," I say, wondering whether I should mention how much we procrastinated getting here. "Who did your décor?"

Orion ignores me. "I’ve heard a lot about you."

"Thanks," I say again, for lack of anything better to say and not wanting to die of boredom from Orion’s villain monologue. "I didn’t know you existed until about an hour ago."

Orion’s lips twist upwards, almost condescendingly. "Ah, yes. The great daughter of Rome, who despite saying strength lies in numbers, will not join her legion. Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, who murdered her father and who ran away like a child –"

"That’s because I was a child," I interrupt, my vision slightly tinted red in my anger.

"Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano," Orion’s voice raises to continue over mine, "who’s come to play the hero for Gods that aren’t hers. Who’s come to die on the orders of divinities which she means nothing to. How noble!"

Okay, maybe Leo was right when he told me I have anger issues. I would like nothing more than to brutally assassinate this asshole. 

"You’re wrong," I tell him. I don’t pause long enough to consider the consequences of my words though, and I plough on. "I’m not here to die, I’m here to challenge you to a contest."

Piper, who had been watching the exchange by Rachel’s side silently, suddenly coughs. I glance at her, and she gives me her trademark ‘What the FUCK are you doing?!’ glare. Listen, maybe I am a moron. But at least I’m a moron with somewhat competent reasoning. Annabeth mentioned that Orion, as a sentient monster, has a sense of pride. And Annabeth is always coaching us on monster safety. 

"If they can talk, keep them talking," is one of Annabeth’s personal favourites. It’s never failed us so far, but I don’t particularly want to keep listening to Orion’s bitch talk.

That leads her to Rule No. 5 of monster survival class; a monster will always take up a challenge. Why? Because they’re dumb as fuck. You’d think that after dying and regenerating a couple thousand times would give them the insight to just kill demigods on sight but no, they just have to monologue.

"A challenge?" Orion’s brow quirks upwards, a sinister grin playing on his lips. "Of what?"

"Archery," I blurt out. In hindsight, maybe this was stupid, but I saw Artemis’ bow and panicked.

Orion is evidently thinking along the same lines. "You’d challenge me, a renowned hunter, born to oppose the twin archers, to an archery contest?"

Well, I reason desperately, Annabeth is always saying to use your enemies’ greatest strength to your advantage.

She’s also always saying not to be dumb idiots, but whatever.

"Yup," I say, ignoring Piper’s eyes screaming at me. "Best out of three, what do you say?"

Orion’s face almost splits in half as he lets out a howl of laughter. "Very well, Roman. You," he points at a cyclops, "find the girl a bow."

"We haven’t discussed the prize yet," I interrupt. 

Orion lifts an eyebrow. "Go on," he says.

"If I win, you give me Artemis’ bow, and grant me, my friends, and the Hunters of Artemis safe passage out of here," I begin, somehow managing to sound much more confident than I feel.

"And if I win?" Orion asks. "I already have the bow and you all in my possession."

"If you win," I fumble frantically. He has a point – what more does a misogynistic immortal hunter need? 

At some point, need becomes want. "If you win, you get to bite off our heads," I shrug, like I hadn’t just offered my head on a silver platter.

Orion frowns. "What’s stopping me from biting off your heads now?"

"If you kill us now, then you’re just proving to all these monsters that you’re afraid of being beaten in an archery contest by a girl." I am gaslight, gatekeep, girlbossing, I find myself thinking crazily. I’m gaslighting myself.

Orion narrows his eyes. "I accept your terms, though they are pointless. I will win. Let the challenge begin."

"Swear it."

"What?"

"Swear it on the Styx," I repeat, hardly breathing. "Swear that if I win, you will give me Artemis’ bow, and you will let me, my friends, and the Hunters of Artemis leave this arena safely."

"You are beginning to tire me, girl," Orion growls.

"Are you afraid?" I taunt, taking a step forward. Wow, I am so much more stupid than I thought. "Are you afraid of being beaten by a twelve-year-old girl?"

‘I swear on the Styx to accept your terms,’ Orion spits out. "No matter, I will have a great time ripping your flesh off your bones."

I swallow, but refuse to break his gaze. Somewhere to my left, a cyclops drags Piper and a now stirring Rachel towards where the Hunters of Artemis are caged. I imagine a conversation between them would go something like this;

Rachel: what’s going on?

Piper: Reyna just offered for a giant to eat us because she’s a fucking moron.

Rachel: oh yay!

Another monster passes me a bow. I recognise the silver glow belonging to the Lieutenant of Artemis, and I silently apologize for using her bow to seal our deaths.

"Ladies first," Orion grins sadistically.

"Thank you so much," I mutter under my breath, along with a few carefully chosen swear words. I’m not terrible at archery, not by a long shot. All of us on the Argo can use just about any weapon adequately. Luke had taught us how to use swords and Percy, who was a natural, had coached us after Luke disappeared. Jason was good with a spear, and Meg, despite being young, trained us in the art of using scimitars. Frank taught us archery, a skill he had mastered on his own. He wasn’t the worst teacher, either, and we had been training almost every day for years. I’m just not positive my archery skills are equal to that of an immortal hunter.

I nocked my arrow and positioned my feet. Taking a deep breath, I take a moment to pray to Apollo and Artemis. Or, well, just about any god that will listen.

Please, please, if you hate Orion more than you hate me, please let me get this bullseye. I sort of maybe signed my death warrant and we’re in charge of returning your bow and lyre so this is a win-win for you too…

Sad, I know, but a lot is counting on me right now and let me tell you, I am stressed. I open my eyes, take aim, draw back the bowstring until it grazes my ear, and release.

Frank would berate me for squeezing my eyes shut the second the arrow left my control, but I don’t care. I lower my bow and count to three before opening my eyes again. To my surprise and immense relief, the arrow had struck true. Albeit, a little of centre, but in the red nevertheless. I swear to make an offering to the twin archers if I survive this.

Orion cackles and, with inhuman speed, draws his bow and releases his arrow. His eyes never leave mine as he does, and my heart stutters to a stop as the arrow hits home, almost as if it had been magnetically drawn to the centre of the target. The crowd cheers, causing a cacophony of unbearable roaring and hollering.

Trying to concentrate through the chant of fuck fuck fuck in my head, I reach for another arrow. Again, I don’t miss.

Orion glances around the arena with a condescending smirk on his face, as if to say; look at this naive little girl . I almost don’t catch him draw his bow and take aim, because he does it so fast. He doesn’t even turn his head towards the target and the arrow flies out of the bow. It hits the centre with a thud, splitting through the first arrow almost effortlessly. 

As I pull my arm back again, I realise we never discussed what happens if we come to a draw. Would Orion kill us anyway? Would all this be for nothing? I let my arrow fly, swallowing as it lands next to the others. 

"Well done," Orion drawls. "Admirable efforts, truly. Any last words before I kill you?"

I glare back at him. His lips twist up as he turns away, towards the crowd of spectating monsters. He spreads his arms wide. This is all a game to him; a show. He’s not even trying. 

On impulse, I glance towards the silver cage. The Hunters of Artemis are on their feet, watching silently. Rachel’s clutching her head as if in immense pain. It’s Piper that catches my attention, waving her arms at me madly. Once she realises she has my eyes, she points to me, and then to herself, and then makes a motion of words leaving her mouth. 

I tilt my head. What?!

Piper huffs. Again she points to me, and then gestures madly to her mouth. Then, when I still don’t understand, she mimes shouting.

Oh! 

Concentrating, I push all of my strength across the arena, in Piper’s direction. She takes a deep breath, inhaling it in, and, drained, I glance at Orion again as he takes aim. He does it more slowly than he had the first two, making sure to show off to the monsters watching. 

He draws back his arm, smiles at me lazily and…

"MISS THE SHOT!"

Orion startles at Piper’s shriek, his bow jerks to the side and he releases his arrow before he has time to think.

The arrow flies, almost as if in slow motion, and the whole arena watches with bated breath. It lands in the yellow, a few centimetres at best from the red centre. I don’t bother to hide the grin that spreads across my face. 

"Well," I say after a few precious seconds of shocked silence, "I guess that means I’ve won."

Orion whips around, his eyes blazing. His once almost handsome face has darkened in his fury. I am not afraid of him – he swore by the Styx to let us go safely. 

"You will regret this, girl!" He howls at me.

"Yeah, I don’t think so." I bounce over to the over-extravagant throne and haul myself up on it, climbing to the top so I can reach up and grasp Artemis’ bow. I hold in the air triumphantly as a cyclops fumbles with the lock of the silver cage. I meet the flood of maidens that surge out.

Piper flings herself at me. Rachel grins over her shoulder, shooting me a thumbs up. Piper’s eyes are bright as she pulls back. She doesn’t say anything – her throat is probably burning – but her smile is enough.

"Come on," I say, "I don’t know how long a safe exit is."

It turns out our safe exit ends the second we had passed through the boundaries of the door.

"Oh shit," Piper croaks as the mass of monsters begin towards us. One of the Hunters shrieks, and then we are all pelting through the narrow corridors of the Labyrinth, the Hunters raining arrows behind us. 

We reach a fork. Rachel pushes past me and keeps sprinting left. I don’t hesitate to follow, and as I’m still holding Artemis’ bow, the Hunters aren’t far behind. 

Rachel screams somewhere ahead of me and a second later I realise why. My feet leave the ground and plummet downwards into the dark. Several screams echo above me, as well as answering roars from monsters that had followed us over the cliff.

It’s dark at first, and then we are falling through clouds, the earth below us. How the fuck that works, I have no idea. 

Next to me, a hunter twists in the air, pulls back the string on her bow and shoots a falling monster dead. Several surrounding hunters are doing the same thing. I want to tell them that there’s no point in doing this as we are all going to die anyway, but I’m preoccupied with screaming.

The ground rushes towards us. As we get closer, I notice we’re going to fall into a forest. Oh, fun! I glance at the hunters to see whether any of them have any qualms about dying this way. No, apparently not. 

Piper’s somehow floated to be right next to me, and she screams directly into my ear as we fall, despite her throat previously being sore.

I squeeze my eyes shut as we near the ground. Piper’s arms wrap around me, her hair slapping me in the face. I grip Artemis’ bow tightly, as well as her lieutenant's bow, as I hadn’t had the chance to give it back to her. I wonder what the goddess will think when she comes to collect it and finds all of her Hunter splatted on the ground.

I feel the first tree hit my back. I brace myself for pain, but none comes. Instead, I keep falling, passing through the forest of trees almost as if I was a ghost. I land on the ground with a soft oof! And Piper lands on top of me.

It takes me a few moments to register that I am not dead, nor am I in any pain. Piper rolls off me and I blink open my eyes to see her staring back at me, confused.

"Hello, heroes," a soft voice speaks up, and I whip my head around to find the owner.

A girl around my age grins slyly at me. Her eyes shine a vibrant silver, like the moon, and her dark hair curls in a braid on her shoulder. She’s dressed in a similar attire to the Hunter’s, but she glows more brightly than any of them.

"I see you’ve found my bow," she says, gesturing to the offending object. Piper’s breath catches beside me as my jaw drops, coming to the realisation that holy shit this is THE Artemis –

"Uh," I say intelligently. "Yes – yeah… this is yours."

I hold out the bow towards her before realising it’s the wrong bow, fucking hell Reyna. Mentally slapping myself across the face, I offer the much larger, actually right bow to the grinning goddess.

"I must say, I’m impressed with how you handled my old friend back there," Artemis says. "Orion is hard to outsmart."

I don’t know what to say to this, so I just shrug my shoulders. "It was a group effort."

Artemis turns towards Piper and Rachel. "Ah, yes. Thank you for your bravery, heroes. I will no doubt expect to see you and your other comrades rewarded once the quests have been completed."

Piper offers a smile and a thumbs-up to the goddess. No doubt her throat is in agony after all that screaming and charmspeaking. Rachel’s eyes are a little unfocused but she mutters a faint no problem in response.

I let my eyes wander around the clearing of trees. As they land on the lieutenant, I suddenly remember I am still holding her bow.

"I think this is yours," I say, walking over to her. She offers me a slight smile, and I remember something else about the girl. Snapping my fingers, I grin triumphantly. "Zoe! That’s your name. Sorry I used your bow to almost seal all of our deaths."

Zoe grins. "Outdoing Orion with my bow? The honour is all mine. You have the true spirit of a huntress, you should consider joining us. Your friends, too." She gestures to Piper and Rachel.

I laugh. "Thanks, but… My duty is to my family."

Zoe nods. "I see. Orion was wrong when he said you refused to join your legion. You already have one."

Zoe and I shake hands, and then she goes to join her sisters in setting up camp. 

I turn towards Artemis. "Thanks for not letting my arrows miss," I say to the huntress.

Artemis’ eyes twinkle as she winks at me over her shoulder. "Oh, but that was all you , Reyna."

Chapter Text

JASON

We know we are heading in the right direction when we see the herd of flesh-eating, fire-breathing horses devouring each other.

Life hack: If you’re ever searching for death, walking towards horses that are cannibalizing each other like their friends are exotic dishes at an all-you-can-eat buffet is generally where you can find it.

After Leo crashes his pet dragon into the ground approximately eight times while trying to land, we hop off Festus and make our way towards the herd. I guess normal, sane people don’t usually see flesh-eating, fire-breathing horses and go; Ooh, look at that tourist attraction!! But Leo, Frank and I are not normal, sane people, so that’s exactly what we do.

Well no, that’s what me and Leo do. Frank goes off into a rant about how this is such a bad idea and then sighs really loudly when both me and Leo completely ignore him. Let it be known that he tried. 

It’s probably important to note that this herd of cannibalistic flesh-eating, fire-breathing horses are not just in the middle of nowhere. Like, I can see a stable a little bit in the distance, and a farmhouse a little bit further. Some luminescent red things that are probably cows are frolicking around a scarecrow to the west as well, but I don’t really think about that. 

I guess I can’t call the horses “flesh-eating”, since they’re eating each other, and they’re literally made of bones. Frank was obviously entirely wrong when he told us that. Leo has the idea that these horses might be his long-lost relatives, since they breathe fire, but so far I haven’t even seen a spark.

Wait. Never mind, that foal over there just disintegrated its mother. Maybe they are related to Leo.

We all just stare at the sight of the herd slowly devouring each other. I’m not exactly sure how that works. I mean, they’re skeleton horses, and they don’t have any stomachs, but they’re eating stuff with the chomping hole in their skulls. Where is it going? Are the bones they’re munching on replenishing their own bone bodies and making them stronger?

This is why I hate science. It makes my head hurt.

Frank looks a bit queasy, so I suggest he turns into one of the horses to lighten the mood. Who knows, then he too might get the cannibalistic urge to eat the horses. Or maybe the horses will just eat him. Frank looks less queasy and more murderous after I say this.

"I have an idea," Leo says. "It’s stupid, probably suicidal, and definitely makes no sense, but I think Jason at least will like it."

"Hit me," I say, then let out a cry of shock when Leo hits me.

"You told me to hit you," Leo crows defensively when I glare at him. "Anyway, here’s my idea. We become shepherds."

I look around the ranch. At the horses, the cattle, those weird pigs that might be doing gymnastics. "Makes sense. Let’s do that."

Frank sighs, loudly. "No."

"Now I want to be a shepherd even more."

"No," Frank says again. "I don’t know whether you forgot this, but we’re on a quest."

"What if this “quest” is actually just a metaphor for self-discovery, and we were supposed to come to the realisation that being shepherds is our fate?" Leo asks seriously. "Wow, maybe I should become a philosopher."

"I become a shepherd and you become a philosopher. Seems like a match made in Olympus," I say. Leo and I shake hands, because sometimes we are the only ones who can appreciate each other’s geniusness. 

"The quest is not a metaphor for self-discovery, you would make a shit philosopher, and we are on a time limit," Frank states, because he’s probably just very stupid. "Now shut up while I think."

Leo and I both scream in unison. We have authority issues.

Unfortunately, we did not take into account the cannibalistic, possibly flesh-eating, maybe fire-breathing equestrian relatives of Leo. The horses turn towards us. We turn towards them. The horses tilt their heads. We tilt our heads. The horses decide we – actual flesh-carrying beings – are probably much more substantial food than the bones of their friends, and start towards us. We – read as: me and Leo – run away screaming. Frank runs away too, but he doesn’t scream, and he runs in a completely different direction than us. 

The horses swerve to follow Frank. Maybe it’s because Leo’s in torch mode, or because our combined screams hurt the horse's equine ears, or maybe it’s just because Frank looks more tasty than us, but I’m not complaining.

Leo and I look between the glowing cow things and the neon green acrobatic pigs. We take the glowing cow things.

The cows all turn to look at us when we jump over the fence into their pasture. They look sort of… sad. Their eyes glow golden, but they glow goldenly like they’ve been traumatised. I have the sudden urge to hug the cows and cry, but I don’t, because I’m not yet sure whether these cows like to eat people or not.

"Hi," Leo says after we stare at the cows for a few hot seconds. Note: Don’t try to have a staring contest with cows; they will win. 

One of the cows – I’m gonna call her Sadness, because she looks sad – moos in response.

"Oh my god, Leo," I say, turning to my friend and rolling my eyes. "You can’t just expect a cow to understand English. That’s so inconsiderate of you."

I turn towards Sadness again. "Moo," I say.

"Mooo," Sadness replies. 

I nod my head. "Moo."

One time, Percy and I kidnapped Frank to try and understand the language of animals. We’re not bad at wolf, okayish at rooster, and our donkey is passable, but we never quite got the hang of cow. Maybe it was because Frank was a shit teacher, or maybe it was because Annabeth came in and threw shoes at our heads, I’m not quite sure.

I like to think my and Sadness’s conversation went something like this;

"Hi!"

"You’re so awesome."

"Thanks!"

I convey as much to Leo, and he just shakes his head. He opens his mouth to say something, but we are interrupted by a loud bark. Huh, I didn’t know cows barked. That’s weird.

Something yaps at my feet, and I look down. Two dogs stare up at me, snarling.

Scratch that – one dog with two heads stares up at me.

My eyes widen. The dog – is it a dog? I don’t know – is adorable. It’s little teeth are so pointy and it’s paws – Gods, I have the sudden urge to just pet it. It’s fur is so fluffy and I just want to touch it please it’s so cute –

Just as I am about to reach down a cough sounds above me. I look up to see a dude that I’m 64% sure wasn’t there before. My first thought is; Wow, this dude’s really old, which is reasonable I suppose, because his frizzy hair and long beard are stark white. He has a straw hat on top of his head, and holds a wooden club so big it could probably bat my head off with one swing, even without the six-inch spikes bristling at the end of it.

My second thought is; wow, this dude’s ripped. His muscled biceps are clearly visible through the ripped material of his denim jacket. I almost wanted to ask him where he goes to the gym, but I don’t, because his club is really pointy.

"What’ve we got here?" he asks, looking us up and down. "Cattle rustlers?"

I shake my head solemnly. "Aspiring shepherds."

"I’m looking more into the philosophy career, actually, but shepherd isn’t a bad backup plan," Leo adds.

The old, oddly fit, dude tilts his head, his brow furrowing. "Eh?"

"This ranch of yours inspired me to look into becoming a shepherd, so we decided to begin communicating with the cows here to get a head start," I explain. "So far, it’s going great. Can I pet your dog?"

"What?"

I point to the two-headed hound at his feet. "Fluffy."

The dude scratches his head. "You two need to leave."

"We have breath mints," Leo says, waving a tin of the offending mints around. Where did he get them? Who knows.

"They’re very minty," I say persuasively.

Leo nods. "Also very breathy."

"We’ll trade them for the dog."

The dude shakes his head. "Orthus isn’t for sale."

"We’ll kill you for the dog," I amend apologetically. 

I’ve always wanted a pet. Sometimes Percy has a pegasus, sometimes I have an air horse called Tempest, sometimes Meg has an evil fruit spirit called Peaches, and sometimes Rachel has a soul-possessing spirit of an ancient oracle, but you can’t exactly keep them on the Argo full-time. Frank is also a worthy contestant – but he’s only an animal like, 28% of the time. A dog would be nice – and a dog with two heads? Perfect.

The dude narrows his eyes and grips his club. "No."

I burst into (slightly real but mostly fake) tears. "PLEASE. You don’t understand. I’m an orphan. I lost my sister when I was eight. One time my stepmother tried to sacrifice me to wolves. I really think a therapy dog would be good for my mental health."

"We can’t afford a therapist," Leo chirps in.

"That’s tough bud, but Orthus is my therapy dog," the dude says defensively. 

I sniff. "Why do you need a therapy dog?"

"Some upstart called Heracles bludgeoned me to death with his club a few thousand years ago," he says flatly, "then I reincarnated with the weapon he murdered me with." He lifts his club.

I suck in a breath. "Damn, that must suck. I’ll give you a high five if you let me keep your dog though."

The dude frowns. "No."

I sigh. "Well, I really didn’t want to have to do this but…" I draw my sword.

The dude – I should really ask his name – raises his hands. "Woah. Calm down there, Sonny. I’ve got a compromise."

Both Leo and I perk up. "We’re listening."

"Orthus had a pup not too long ago," The – ugh – dude says wearily. "And I really can’t maintain two dogs and a whole ranch –"

"SOLD!" I scream. "SOLD, SOLD, SOLD. We’ll take it! What’s your name again?"

"I’m Eurytion," he huffs out a laugh. "I hope you know what you’re signing yourself up for. The pup isn’t trained yet."

"Neither are we," I say, grinning. "Will you take breath mints as payment?"

"Enchiladas?" Leo offers.

"Sure, kids."

Orthus runs off – presumably to get his pup – and Leo sits down to make enchiladas. I pass Eurytion the breath mints and shake hands with him. "Nice doing business with you."

"Right back at ya," he chuckles.

"So, is this like your ranch? Or are you ranch-sitting?" Leo asks conversationally from the ground.

"I’m the cowherd here," Eurytion says. "The boss is out on a business trip, otherwise, he probably would've barbequed you by now."

I nod. "Being barbequed isn’t great. At least, not by Cyclopes. I wouldn’t know about your boss. Is he a Cyclops?"

"Uh, no. He’s sort of – well, never mind."

I hum. "What breed are the cattle?"

"Sacred cows of Apollo."

"Why are they sad?"

Eurytion sighs darkly. "Probably because the boss kills them for meat."

Both Leo and I turn to stare at him, mouths agape. "Your boss kills Apollo’s sacred cows for meat?" I exclaim.

Eurytion nods.

"Isn’t that breaking a bunch of ancient laws?" Leo asks.

Eurytion nods again. Leo and I lock eyes and simultaneously come to a decision.

"We’re setting them free," I say, crossing my arms.

Eurytion sighs. "Thought you’d say that. Can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed my mind once or twice. Only problem is; the boss’ll kill me."

"Oh, that’s easy," Leo waves his hand, "we’ll just kill him for you first."

Eurytion blinks, opens his mouth, closes his mouth, and then shrugs. "Fine by me, I guess. Honestly, I’m a bit sick of him. A century without him would be nice."

"You said you’ve been killed before. Are you like, a monster?" I ask. Quickly, I add, "no offence."

"Nah, I started out as a demigod. Son of Ares. Chose immortality when my dad offered it. Worst mistake I ever made, because now I’m stuck at this ranch with my boss, Geryon. Can’t quit, can’t leave, either."

"Damn," I say, sympathetically. "That sucks."

"We’ll try to kill him extra hard when he gets back, so he doesn’t reincarnate for a while," Leo vows.

Eurytion just laughs. Suddenly, a hoarse scream echoes from where the herd of cannibalistic, flesh-eating, fire-breathing horses are. 

"Oh," I say, my eyes widening.

"We forgot about Frank," Leo mutters.

To his credit, Frank’s not even dead yet. Sure, he’s smoking a bit. His jumper might have a few bite marks, but he hasn’t lost any limbs – that I can see. He morphs into an animal on the ground that I can't quite place at this distance. He burrows into the ground and starts digging around the horses, sort of like a trench, so he must be a mole or something. 

Leo and I glance at each other, and then shrug. "He looks like he’s doing fine."

Eurytion doesn’t seem to agree. "You sure? Those horses aren’t nice."

"Frank’s tough," I assure, walking towards the gate of the pasture. I unlock it, and then fling it open dramatically. "Be free, cows! Be free!"

The cows moo, stare at me, and then go back to munching their grass solemnly. 

"Well, I guess you could just look after them," I say to Eurytion, closing the gate. "No sacred cow meat, though."

"I can promise ya that," Eurytion says.

I pat him on the shoulder, and then my eye catches on the scarecrow – or, what I had thought was a scarecrow. On closer inspection, it actually looks like armour. It’s an intricate Greek design, sort of old, glowing –

"Hey," I say, suddenly, "where’d you get that?"

Eurytion turns towards it, his eyes widening once he spots it. "Shoot! I forgot about that. You lot must be demigods questing for it. That’s the armour of Ares. I thought Geryon was mad for trying to hide it, but I figured demigods wouldn’t be far behind to pick it up."

"We’re on a quest for the Olympian’s symbols of power," I explain, walking closer to inspect it. "They think we stole them, so we have to find them to stop a war. Do you know who gave it to your boss?"

Eurytion shakes his head. "Nah, must be a bloody mad one though."

I reach out a hand to unhook the helmet on top of the scarecrow stick, but quickly pull back when spikes protrude from it. "Ow," I whine, cradling my hand.

"Yeah, should’ve warned ya about that," Eurytion mutters apologetically. "It’s got an anti-theft mechanism."

"Didn’t work too well against the actual thief though, did it?" Leo points out. "How are we supposed to take it?"

Eurytion walks towards me and squats down and tugs the armour stake out of the ground. "Bit heavy, but you can carry it right?"

I almost fall over under the weight. "One hundred per cent," I say. "Easy peasy. You should carry it until we leave though."

The cowherd chuckles as he takes the stake back. I sit down beside Leo, glancing back out at Frank. He’s somehow trenched around the horses, and filled the ditches with water from the stream near the stables. Why? I don’t know, but he seems to know what he’s doing.

A series of barks rouses me from my contemplation, however, and I turn excitedly as Orthus and his pup come bounding into the pasture. The cattle moo indignantly and huff. I leap to my feet and run towards Eurytion, where both hounds are pawing at his knees. Eurytion seems amused at my excitement as he lifts the pup up. 

"Here ya go," he says, placing the pup in my arms.

The fur is so much softer than I expected. Both sets of brown eyes stare up at me with, wide and adoring. I decide that if I were to die right now, I would die the happiest demigod alive. I can hardly contain my squeal of delight. 

Leo appears at my shoulder, eyes wide. "He’s so cute," he whispers, reaching out to scratch behind the ear of the left head. 

"I would literally die for him," I murmur back. Leo nods fervently. 

"Ahem," an irritated voice behind us says. We turn around to see a dishevelled Frank glaring at us, his arms crossed. 

"I have one question," Frank says. Then he stops and looks around the pasture, his brow furrowing. "Scratch that, I have several questions. First of all; what the fuck?!"

Leo and I wince at his tone. "You – you looked like you had it handled…" Leo attempts futilely, ducking his head.

"I just didn’t realise my two best friends were cowards," Frank seethes. "I’m perfectly fine, by the way. The fucking horses didn’t kill me, if you were concerned. Also, if you were wondering, they one hundred per cent eat flesh. They can also breathe fire, so yeah. Thanks so much for your help, guys."

"You did a great job, Frank," I say truthfully. "But, uh, what was the trench for, if you don’t mind me asking?"

"They were skeleton horses, so they were at least sort of dead. And running water –" he stops short at our confused expressions, "never mind. You’re too stupid to understand."

"Hey!" Leo and I shout in indignation.

"What’s with the dog?" Frank asks. 

I beam. "He’s my new pet. Isn’t he adorable?"

Frank glances at the hound, and the two mouths hanging open and slobbering all over my arms. "Sure," he says. He points to Leo’s makeshift fire. "Why?"

"Enchiladas," is all Leo offers in response. 

"Right," Frank shakes his head. He gestures at Eurytion and the armour. "Explain."

"Oh, this is our new friend. Somewhere in the approaching future, we’re going to murder his boss. Also, we found your dad’s armour."

"Say what now?"

"His boss is an ass," I repeat.

"No," Frank sighs in exasperation. "The armour!"

"Oh! It’s the armour of Ares. We found it pretending to be a scarecrow," Leo claps his hands together. "See, we were actually quite busy while you were gone."

Frank pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters a few colourful words in Latin. "Why haven’t you sent it to Olympus yet?"

Leo and I stare blankly at him.

Frank closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Armour. Ares. SYMBOL OF POWER. MAIL TO OLYMPUS?!"

"Ohhhh," I say. "Geez, Frank, chill."

"Yeah, dude, I’m sensing a bit of rage here," Leo adds, "deep breaths, big guy. In and out."

Frank isn’t good at relaxing. He looks more murderous actually. He reaches into his backpack – which looks a bit… chomped – and for a split second I think he going to pull out a bomb and kill us both. Instead, he pulls out a sticky note and pen. It’s probably best Frank writes the address, seeing as both Leo and I are dyslexic. And also I have had no official education.

He aggressively attaches the sticky note to the armour and we watch for a second as it disappears in a flash. Then he turns around. 

"Echiladas?"

I hadn’t realised how late it was. We had been flying on Festus for hours before we reached the ranch. Oddly enough, a giant bronze fire-breathing dragon tends to draw a lot of attention. We had to stop and lecture storm spirits on the ethics of attacking demigods riding bronze dragons at least a dozen times. We scared away a few flocks of Stymphalian birds with renditions of “I Want It That Way” by the Backstreet Boys. We even had to take turns knocking Harpies that were pursuing us out of the sky with rocks. 

It had been late in the afternoon when we crashed into the ranch. Now it was far into the evening, and we had also realised just how hungry we were. Eurytion offered to let us stay at the ranch for the night, and none of us really wanted to venture out into the dark. Plus, we had a murder scheduled for tomorrow, so we readily accepted his offer. 

Leo cooks up more enchiladas on a campfire, and then we toast marshmallows as we watch the sunset. My new pup – we hadn’t decided on a name – rests on my lap, and takes bites of my marshmallows occasionally. Festus is curled around us, and Frank’s entertaining himself by chucking leftover enchiladas into his mouth. Eurytion had long since retired inside. We were camping out in one of Leo’s retractable tents. I was slightly mistrusting of these, however, because one tried to eat me once.

"Hey, I’ve got a question," Leo says from across the campfire, where he’s busy creating the most horrendous smore hybrid the world has ever seen. "If you feed one of the heads on your dog, will the other still be hungry or not?"

I glance down at the pup in my lap. "I dunno. They both share the same stomach."

"Do they? What if they have two separate stomachs for each head?" Leo queries. 

I shrug. "I guess I’ll just feed both."

Leo nods in acceptance. "Also, do you think he needs two names? Like, what do you name, the heads or the body? If you name the body, that’s kinda shallow, you know? Like, you think that’s his only defining feature. But are both heads separate consciousnesses?"

I open my mouth, and then close it again. "Oh my gods…"

"Like, you wouldn’t put only one collar on him, right? Cos he’s got two heads. Two necks. And two collars would equal two names," Leo reasons. 

"Right," I agree, "because you wouldn’t put two collars with the same name on the same dog."

"Exactly," Leo nods. "So two names, or not?"

"Well…" I consider this. "I guess there’d have to be. Like, conjoined twins share the same body, and they have different names."

"Woah, I never thought of that," Leo tilts his head. "Do you reckon if you called one name, only one of his heads would answer?" 

"I’ve got a solution," Frank declares, sitting down and grabbing another marshmallow to toast. "Give him a two-syllable name, and each head can have a different syllable. Like, Eurytion’s hound is called Orthus, right? What if one head was Or, and the other Thus, and he called them Orthus to get them both to listen to him?"

I contemplate this. "Frank, you are a genius."

"I have my moments."

"That raises the question though, are they male or female?" Leo asks. "What if one head is male, and the other female? What if they’re both non-binary, or genderfluid? Are they the same gender because they share the same body?"

"Holy Hephaestus," I murmur, shaking my head. "How are we supposed to know?!"

"Gender neutral name?" Frank suggests.

We’re silent for a few seconds before Leo gasps. "Do you think Cerberus has three different names?" he asks, eyes wide. "Like one head is Cer, the other Ber, and the last Us? What if Frank’s right with the syllable per head idea?!"

"Saturn’s sickle," Frank curses softly, head in hands. "What do we do with this information now?"

"We have to ask Hades if we ever meet him," I say, absentmindedly scratching behind an ear on both of my pup’s heads. Frank and Leo nod in agreement. "So, a gender-neutral, two-syllable name. Any ideas?"

Chapter Text

ANNABETH

We were not prepared to be attacked by pirates.

How did we end up here? That’s a good question. A great one, even. Unfortunately, I don’t have that answer for you.

It all started when Percy got a concussion from a well-aimed beer bottle thrown by the captain of the ship we Grand Theft Auto-ed, which was a direct result of the man-eating ants. It should be known that the ants only found us because Meg had turned Percy into a tomato.

I’m not going to say that the ants didn’t give me flashbacks to that one time me, Leo and Rachel got kidnapped by a nest of myrmeks while being lost in a forest. That was an… interesting experience, to say the least. That was the day Leo found Festus, plus a really old bunker from the American Civil War with a blueprint for the Argo II in it. That was also the day Rachel got her soul possessed by the Oracle of Delphi. 

We didn’t know exactly how to explain the warship, dragon, or soul-possessing Oracle to the rest of our little gang, so we just didn’t. Sometimes stuff just happens and what can you do, right?

When we woke up this morning, we were greeted by Peaches. Peaches is Meg’s emotional support fruit demon. He doesn’t look like a peach (more like an ugly baby) and he doesn’t smell like a peach (he actually smells like a Cyclopes’ armpit (don’t ask)). We know that his name is Peaches, because that is the only word the Karpos has in it’s vocabulary. 

Meg was very small when she first came to the Argo, and she was also very sad. I was ten, and to ten-year-old's, small sad children are very scary. We consulted our therapist (Buford), who told us we should let her get a pet. Well no, actually the walking table screamed something like “POSEIDON’S PANTIES DO YOGA!” but we didn’t really know what to do with that information.

That’s how Peaches happened. 

Peaches literally fell out of the sky. Leo says it was a sign from the Gods, Percy personally thinks Peaches is actually just an extra-terrestrial being disguised as a fruit spirit. I guess we’ll never know, because we don’t know how to talk Peach. (Not for lack of trying either; I distinctly remember walking in on Leo, Jason and Percy interrogating the Karpos on it’s way of life.)

Peaches had been sent to wake us up because Meg had attempted to befriend a bear, which had actually not been a bear but an “evil easter bunny” (?) in incognito mode. How Percy ended up turning into a tomato because of this, I’m not sure. I’m also not exactly certain whether or not Percy had been transformed into a tomato, or whether he was literally stuck inside the fruit. I didn’t have much time to ask. Meg had exploded the tomato and freed Percy, but the myrmeks swarmed in on us like five seconds later so we had to grab our bags and make a run for it.

Percy had been the fastest, so of course he had led us towards the sea. It was a long run, must’ve been an hour , honestly. The only reason I didn’t stop was because of the hungry carnivorous ants behind us.

We ended up at a dock. Percy had picked Meg up and hurled her up over the deck of the first ship he’d seen, then given me a boost up to follow. Percy appeared after me and immediately commanded the waves to propel us forwards, away from land. 

We hadn’t taken into account the owner of the ship though. The angry captain emerged from below deck brandishing a beer bottle and shouting.

Quick note: the words “angry”, “beer bottle” and “shouting”, don’t bode well for Percy, especially not in the same sentence, and especially when they were directed at him.

While he froze, Meg wasted no time in throwing the captain over the side of the ship. The beer bottle sailed over her head as he fell, and hit Percy in the middle of his forehead, causing Percy to stagger backwards and also fall off the ship, which led to the ship losing control and me and Meg screaming as we sailed so fast I could feel the skin trying to peel off my face.

Then we crashed into the other ship, which just so happened to be occupied with pirates. Honestly, I’ve had better mornings. 

I conclude that Percy has either drowned (unlikely) or he has been kidnapped and/or eaten by some sea monster (more likely). Well, it’s just me, Meg, and this piece of rope that’s tying us to the mast.

Oh, and Peaches.

"PEACHES!" Peaches screeches at the pirates, throwing a peach at one. Or, he throws a peach at something. I’m facing away from the crew. Meg giggles quietly. 

"I’m struggling to see how this is funny," I mutter to her.

"They’re dolphins," she whispers back. I can practically see the manic grin on her face. "They’re all dolphins, Annie. You should see it, it’s great."

"They’re pirates."

"They’re dolphins –"

"Ahem," a cough interrupts our debate, and we turned rather heatedly towards the offending person. Or, well, I try. He’s behind me, and I can’t exactly turn around. 

Meg laughs.

I close my eyes and pray for a quick death. Common sense: don’t laugh at the pirates that currently have you hostage. But of course, Meg’s one of those special people that was blessed without common sense, so she doesn’t think about the consequences of her actions.

"Erm, sorry," I say over Meg’s laughter. "Just ignore her. She’s – adopted. Bit loopy. Can you like, come around this side so I can actually see you, or…"

The dude who had been speaking huffs, then stomps around the mast to stand in front of me, his arms crossed.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

I bite my lip. I was so not ready for that.

"It’s giving, um, that snake lady from yesterday," Meg says to me, loud enough for Buford to probably hear us on the Argo, however many miles away that is.

The captain – I can only assume this is the captain, because if he isn’t, I’m afraid to see who is – is decked head to toe in gold. Like everywhere . He could probably outshine Apollo at this point, honestly. Apollo’s probably jealous of him. Apollo probably has this dude’s face taped onto a dart board.

The brightly-coloured armour is a classical Ancient Greek combat type – sandals, kilt, greaves, and a chest plate with sea monsters engraved on it. What really makes me raise an eyebrow however, is his helmet. It’s fashioned to bear an eery resemblance to a gorgon's face; curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face. It is, in fact, giving “that snake lady from yesterday.”

"PEACHES!" Peaches screams, suddenly appearing to my left in a bloom of peachy scented air and a handful of his favourite fruits (peaches). He hurls them at golden guy, hisses, and then disappears again.

"He’s not people trained yet," I offer as an apology. "We’re working on it."

The Captain scowls at me. I suppress a huff. I’d like to see him try to control a feral fruit demon. 

"So," I begin, to ease the tension, "you like… Gorgons? That’s cool. That’s… yeah, cool. Which one’s your favourite?"

Golden boy glares at me. He’s so grumpy. "My mother."

I blink. "Your mother is… a gorgon?"

"Yes," he raises an eyebrow like he’s daring me to challenge this.

I do not challenge this. I have just realised who Mr. Golden-Glowy-Pirate-Dude is.

"You’re Chrysaor," I say, "son of Medusa and Poseidon."

"Medusa is your mum?" Meg says suddenly. She pulls a face. "Dude, that sucks for you."

Holy Hera, I think to myself, Meg’s gonna get us murdered.

Apparently, though, Meg isn’t finished trying to seal our deaths. "And I mean, you don’t even have a great dad to make up for it. That just sucks, like, at least Percy has a nice mum to make up for Poseidon." Meg pauses here, considering. "Although, I guess Medusa isn’t the worse. I met her yesterday. She gave me free cheeseburgers."

Chrysaor snarls. "And then I suppose you heroes killed her?"

I grip Meg’s wrist, biting my nails into her skin to signal for her to shut up. There’s something in the pirate’s voice; bitter sadness, that makes me pause.

"No," I tell him earnestly. "She’s alive. She’s in New Jersey."

Chrysaor makes a small noise. I can’t see his expression under the mask of gold, but his demeanour shifts ever so slightly. Shock.

"Wow," Meg says suddenly. "I just realised – how much must it suck for your mum to die literally as you are born? Imagine popping out and this guy is holding your mum’s head. That’s sad."

I bang my head back into the mast. I like to think of myself as an even-minded person, but sometimes I just really want to commit homicide. Specifically on Meg, specifically now. 

"She doesn’t mean that," I say, desperately trying to save this situation.

"Yeah, I do," Meg counters.

"She’s cursed."

"I don’t think I am?"

"She’s being possessed," I say loudly. "Possessed by… something evil. Just ignore her."

"Absolutely do not ignore me," Meg stomps her foot out in front of her. "I will scream."

"You can gag her."

"I swear to the fucking gods –"

"You can throw her off this ship, it’s okay. I don’t mind."

"I DO MIND, ANNABETH!"

"She’ll be fine."

"DON’T TOUCH ME, YOU CREEPY DOLPHIN MAN –"

"Please."

"I know karate, bitch –"

"She can swim, I think. It’s fine."

"PEACHES!" Peaches screams. I can’t exactly see what’s happening, but I get the impression our ship is being peach-ified. I hear several screams, and also several… other sounds that might be screams if it were a fish screaming. I sigh. I’m not above sacrificing Meg, really, I’m not. A common mistake people make about me is the assumption that I have a moral compass. I am twelve; I do not. 

Chrysaor is still in front of me. "Nice day for it?" I ask weakly. Behind me, Meg lets out a war cry. 

It’s impossible to read Chrysaor’s expression under the mask. "Your… friend is a skilled warrior," he notes.

"She’s adopted," I tell him again, just to make sure he’s knows. "She was kidnapped by evil Roman emperor’s a few years ago so… child army tendencies, you know?"

Chyrsaor nods. Makes sense. I wonder how Golden Boy feels about Meg brutally butchering his crew. 

"Are you, like, worried for your crew at all?" I ask him. 

"No."

"Because you don’t care if they die…?"

Chrysaor tilts his head. "They are dolphins."

I mirror his action. "Sorry?"

He pulls one of his crewmates away from Meg’s battle and shakes him slightly in front of me. I blink. Do not laugh at dolphin head man do not laugh at dolphin head man – 

I laugh at dolphin head man.

It’s actually kind of ridiculous. He’s got human legs, but from the torso up, the pirate is a dolphin. Sort of. His arms are fins, but he has two human fingers at the ends of each. On the tip of it’s beak, is has a human nose. I bite my lip to stop myself dissolving into further giggles.

"Holy Blobfishes," Percy shouts somewhere behind me. Oh, he’s not dead. "Annie, what the Hades is happening here?!"

"The pirates are dolphins and Meg is dolphin-phobic," I say, stifling a laugh. 

"Who’s the… not dolphin man?"

"Apollo’s mortal enemy."

I can feel Percy projecting question marks into the air, but I don’t elaborate. He sighs. Chrysaor mimics this. 

"So, you get much business out here?" I ask him.

"No. I honestly only went into the pirate career because I was sick of my brother getting all the attention," Chrysaor huffs dramatically (Must be a Poseidon thing). 

I nod knowingly. "And you wanted Poseidon to notice you."

"POSEIDON SUCKS!" Percy screams inexplicably. That might not be the best thing to declare while we are at sea, but Percy evidently does not give a shit.

Chrysaor stares at me. "I don’t care about what he thinks."

"Yeah, but you do though," I say. "Everyone does. When a child wants the supposedly unconditional love a parent is supposed to give them, but is denied, they begin to seek it out. Some mould themselves to become a person they think will make their parents proud even if they ruin themselves in the process, and some fight to become the exact opposite. At the end of the day, they both wanted the same thing. You had every career choice in the world, and you chose pirate. You wanted the attention Pegasus got, and you wanted it from your father."

Chrysaor opens his mouth, gapes for a few seconds, and then closes his mouth.

I smile softly. "It’s normal, you know? Parents are supposed to love their children. That’s their job. When they don’t, their children are left with a hole that wasn’t filled, and it hurts. But at the end of the day, you realise the gods are assholes. You realise that you were worthy of their love, but they were incapable of giving it. You realise that you are not unlovable, or broken, or worthless, and you find the people, your friends, that will help you fill the hole your parents didn’t. You make your own family."

Chrysaor stands silent, his golden sword hanging limp at his side. I turn my head as Percy comes into my vision, clinging to the back of a dolphin pirate and slapping it repeatedly on the head, screaming. He shoots me a thumbs up once he catches me looking and then goes back to slapping the dolphin.

I startle as Chrysaor moves towards me, sword tight in his grip. He raises it and I have a split second to think; holy shit I’m going to die because I gave a pirate therapy, before he swings.

Surprisingly; I am not dead. 

Even more surprisingly; I am no longer tied to the mast. 

I blink up at Chrysaor, who’s standing over me awkwardly. He clears his throat, gesturing a bit wildly with his hands.

"How do I… How do I do the friends?" he asks. 

Oh. I stumble to my feet, shooting the pirate a grin. I hold out my hand. "Well, you’ve already got one."

He looks at my hand and makes an odd sort of sound with his mouth. 

Then, he gets hit in the head with a peach. 

We both turn to stare at Peaches, Meg and Percy, who seem to have won the battle against the dolphins. Meg is now sporting a bandanna and Percy is holding a gigantic turtle that doesn’t seemed overjoyed to be there. Peaches is waving more peaches threateningly in Chrysaor’s direction. 

"Annie, I’m a pirate now," Meg declares, waving her scimitars around in what is probably supposed to be an intimidating way.

"Okay, Meg," I sigh.

"I do karate like a ninja," she adds, kicking her legs out and accidentally booting Percy’s arm and causing him to drop his turtle on his feet.

"Okay, Meg."

"HIYAAAH," the eight-year-old screams, backflipping and somehow managing to catapult over the side of the ship. Percy, Chrysaor, Peaches and I glance simultaneously in the direction she disappeared. I wonder vaguely whether Meg knows how to swim.

"Meg doesn’t know how to swim," Percy supplies helpfully, leaning over the side. "Hey, Meg! Do you wanna get abducted by some random sea creature?"

"Fuck yes!" Meg shouts, sounding like she’s sort of drowning. "Wait, something just touched me… Oh. What is that…"

Percy frowns. "Um… Wow, I think that’s a frilled shark. You don’t usually see those this close to the surface."

"Seriously? A frilled shark?" Chrysaor leans over the railing next to Percy. I snort. Nerd.

"IT’S TOUCHING ME, PERCY!"

"Don’t panic!" Percy yells down at Meg. "They aren’t known to be aggressive and have a relatively weak bite –"

Meg screams. I dart towards the taffrail and look down at Meg. She’s flailing in the water – how do she not know how to swim when she lives with Percy? – and is being curiously watched by the frilled shark. Fascinating creature, literally a dinosaur – No. Focus on Meg.

"Percy, maybe you should go get her out," I suggest. 

Percy shakes his head. "Nah, she’s fine."

"I don’t think she is."

"No, trust me. This is Meg. In about ten seconds she’ll be trying to ride the shark."

I close my eyes and count to ten in my head. When I look back down, Meg is indeed trying to swim after the frilled shark and wrap her arms around it’s neck. Percy is calling down to the creature comfortingly so Meg can catch up to it. 

"Well shit," I say, sighing. Percy huffs a laugh and turns away from the railing. Chrysaor turns his head towards us, but he’s still watching Meg out of the corner of his eye. Peaches is rolling around the deck in an empty barrel, shrieking. Percy takes hold of my arm discreetly and hums softly as he taps out a message.

What’s with the pirate?

Chrysaor, I reply, he’s okay. 

Percy’s brow furrows as he seemingly recognises the name, but he doesn’t question my judgement. That’s one of the things I love about Percy; he’s loyal to a fault.

Meg’s loud squeal of laughter echoes up to us and I smile. Chrysoar shakes his head and turns towards Percy and I fully. 

"So, what were you three doing out in the Atlantic anyway?" he asks curiously. 

Percy shrugs. "We were being chased by carnivorous ants."

I roll my eyes. "We’re on a quest."

Chrysaor raises an eyebrow. "For what?"

"We’re not exactly sure," I say, "but we got a prophecy. We’re supposed to be finding some of the Olympian’s symbols of power. We’ve already found Athena’s aegis – it was with your mum, Medusa."

Chrysaor makes a small sound. "Ah, I see." His eyes dart to Meg again, who is now giggling about twenty metres from the ship as the frilled shark swims around her, before they flicker back to us. "What was the prophecy?"

I dig around in my pockets and pull out the piece of paper I had written our third of the prophecy on. Clearing my throat, I recite; "Three shall go east and face the one not seen, wisdom’s cloak won when unseen, you shall travel south to the mouth of the sea, and return the loss of three, you shall find the ones lost in time, and unburden innocents of crime. That’s our third, anyways. I figure we’re at ‘you shall travel south to the mouth of the sea’ now."

Chrysaor hums. "Return the loss of three , you say?"

"Yup."

"Dionysus is an Olympian," he says, shifting to a completely different topic. 

I frown. "He is."

"You’d be questing for his symbol of power then."

"I… guess. There’s a group looking for the symbols of Apollo, Artemis and Aphrodite, and another for Zeus, Ares and Hephaestus. We’re focusing on Poseidon, Athena and Demeter. Hermes, Dionysus, Hera and Hades are really just a luck of the draw."

He clicks his tongue, then without warning jumps over the edge of the ship, landing in the water silently. Percy and I watch as he glides towards the slowly sinking ship that used to be Chrysaor’s and the dolphin pirates’. 

"What’s he doing?" I ask, confused. Percy just shrugs, frowning. We don’t notice Chrysaor climbing back on to the ship behind us until he clears his throat. I gasp as I turn around. In his hands is a golden staff – a thyrsus, I recognise. The staff has a gleaming taeniae wrapped around it, and is adorned on the top with a bunch of vine leaves. Despite having just been floating in the ocean, there’s not a single drop of water on it. It glows with a quiet aura of power, one I’ve come to associate with divine forces, and just looking at it makes me feel light-headed. 

I gape, at a loss for words. Percy shakes his head, probably trying to steady himself from the dizzying power of the thyrsus. 

Finally, I find my words. "Is that…"

"Dionysus’ symbol of power?" Chrysaor answers when words fail me again. "Yes. It is."

"How?" I ask, bewildered. 

Chrysaor shrugs, sort of sheepish. "My crew were tasked with guarding it. The dolphins… weren’t always dolphins, and don’t particularly like Dionysus."

"Shit," Percy mutters, a laugh escaping him. "What are the chances?"

"We have to send that to Olympus," I say. I rummage around my bag until I find a sticky note and scribbled an address. 

Dionysus, Mt Olympus

Wy dollfins?

– Annabeth Chase. 

Chrysaor doesn’t object as I stick the note onto the side of the thyrsus. We’re silent for a moment as it glows and disappears. Finally, Percy turns to Chrysaor, head tilted.

"Where’d you get the stick from?" he asks. "Like, who gave it to you to guard?"

Chrysaor frowns and looks at the sky. "I’m not… entirely sure. The figure was, hmm, very recluse. More like a shadow, than anything, and definitely powerful. They didn’t say a name, only that I was to protect the thyrsus from the demigods that would eventually come to find it."

"Well, you sorta failed at that," Percy points out. Chrysaor barks out a laugh – an odd sound, but not as out of place as I would’ve thought. 

"I guess I did."

"PERCYYYY!!" Meg shouts from the sea, her voice high, "I THINK I’M GETTING ABDUCTED BY, LIKE –" she pauses, "I DON’T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THAT IS?!’ 

"Shit, Meg," I mumble as Percy cackles and dives over the side of the boat to our young companion’s rescue. 

Gods, this is so weird.

Chapter Text

RACHEL

Piper, Reyna and I get to camp with the Hunters for the night, which is actually pretty wicked because this girl called Phoebe gave us free cake. We also got lent a tent, which means we didn’t have to use Leo’s retractable one. I hated those, because I have lived in fear of my life ever since one tried to eat Jason. 

Percy, Leo and Jason actually did a reenactment of that day for one of our monthly talent shows a while ago. Except in that version, the tents turn out to be zombies and rise up to rule the world. 

We all pass out pretty quickly. Maybe because the cakes Phoebe gave us were like Leo’s suspicious attempts at brownies, or maybe because walking around a sentient maze for hours on end trying to slow our deaths was just a really energy-consuming activity. We didn’t really question it. 

The next morning we wake up to Phoebe blowing a trumpet in our ears with a shit-eating grin on her face. We stare at her uncomprehendingly.

“Good morning questers!” Phoebe declares in a sing-song tone, doing jazz hands. 

“I like you a considerable amount less now,” Reyna tells her, blankly. “You’re on my hit list.”

Piper laughs so hard she falls out of her bed. I blow a curly strand of hair out of my face as I smile. 

Phoebe giggles. “Lady Artemis said someone should wake you lot up so you can get on your way. I volunteered as tribute.”

“How kind of you,” Reyna mutters sarcastically, flopping back onto her bed. Note: Reyna is not a morning person, even if we all are forced to wake up at ungodsly hours in the morning because of Buford The Highly Aggressive, Walking, Talking Table.

“I am so great,” Phoebe agrees, patting herself on the shoulder. “You guys want breakfast or…?”

Piper shoots up in her tangle of blankets and bedsheets. “Pancakes?”

“Uh, yeah, we’ve got those.”

I have never seen Piper or Reyna move so fast before 10 am. Phoebe huffs out a laugh as my two friends sprint out of the tent. 

“The only pancakes we get are the McDonalds ones,” I explain as the two of us follow Pipes and Reyna. “Every time one of us tries to cook or use the stove, the oven gets excited and we have to evacuate.”

“What do you mean the oven gets excited?” Phoebe asks curiously, cocking her head.

“Oh, you know. The oven starts trying to do the macarena and singing bohemian rhapsody,” I answer causally. ”We’re still not exactly sure what’s up with that.”

Phoebe giggles, then catches my expression. “You’re serious?”

I nod, opening my mouth to respond when I see the monstrosity in Reyna’s hands.

“Reyna Avila Ramirez-Arellano,” I begin, aghast . “In the name of all things sweet and Greek, what the fuck are you doing?!”

Reyna blinks at me innocently. “Don’t know what you mean, Rach.”

“You have fucking broccoli on your pancakes.”

Reyna bites her lip. I know she’s only put the vegetable on there because of my personal vendetta against them. She picks up her fork.

“Mm,” she says, somehow maintaining a straight face as she takes a bite of her breakfast. “Tasty.”

Absolute silence echoes between the three of us as my mouth drops open. 

Piper breaks first, completely dissolving into a hysterical heap on the ground. Reyna chokes on her pancake, laughing, and I turn, covering my face.

“You disgust me,” I wheeze, trying to make my voice sound like I’m not 100% losing it. “ Never talk to me again.”

“It’s never that serious, Rachel,” Reyna pleads half-heartedly, finally managing to not choke and die. “Rach, it’s just a vegetable. What has it ever done to you?”

“One time a broccoli tried to assassinate me, Reyna, you know this. Stop bullying me.”

“I’m not – ” Reyna swallows the laugh I can see building. “It’s okay though, honestly, because I added some ghost broccoli, so it cancels the regular broccoli out.”

“Reyna, that is cauliflower. Do you know that? It’s important to me that you know that. ”

Piper is in tears.

“You guys scare me,” Phoebe shakes her head, smiling confusedly. “Honest to Gods.”

“We scare ourselves,” I say.

Reyna fixes her pancakes so they are less monstrous (though only by a little because she puts BLUEBERRIES on them) and I grab my portion, so we sit down around a fire to eat.

“What’s on the agenda for today, O Great Oracle?” Piper asks dramatically as she devours her much more socially acceptable pancakes. 

“I foresee… imminent death in the future,” I say, deadpan. “Specifically Reyna’s.”

“Death by what?”

“Broccoli.”

“Brilliant,” Reyna says cheerfully. “I can finally cross that one off my bucket list.”

“That’s great for me too, because I can cross “Watch Friend Get Devoured By Vegetable” off mine,” Piper chips in.

“What if the broccoli doesn’t eat me though?”

“Then I’ll just feed your dead body to it, Reyna, obviously,” Piper rolls her eyes. “It’s not like you’re going to object, are you? You’ll be dead.”

“You’re right. I wouldn’t want to go to waste. If I have to die I hope I’m at least helping one of you get one step closer to completing your bucket lists.’’

“Oh my gods, shut up,” I suppress a grin. “All you guys do is talk shit.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite, hun, talking shit is in my DNA,” Piper flicks her hair theatrically. 

“Actually, Annabeth says gods don’t have DNA –”

“Shut up, Reyna, let me have this.”

We eventually manage to stop talking shit and get going, the Hunters giving us a cheery farewell. Zoe Nightshade and Phoebe tell us several times that we should really think about joining their exclusive Girl Scouts gang. They even give us pamphlets. 

“Man, I feel like every mythological thingy out there should have pamphlets,” Piper says offhandedly around lunchtime as she peruses hers. “Like, “Hello, I’m a Cyclops. I’m going to try to kill you with bad breath and smelly armpits.” And then like, a pros and cons list, you know?”

“Personal pros: I get a human taco,” Reyna comments, making her voice deeper to imitate a Cyclops. “Cons: I might get indigestion.”

Reyna stresses the last two syllables, causing Piper and I to dissolve into laughter again. 

“On that note, the gods should always be giving us pamphlets,” I say once we start walking again. “Like, if you’re going to give us a quest at least let us know all the details.”

“Real,” Piper agrees, ‘I have no idea where I’m going. Can’t them, like, sky girlies give us maps?”

“ Sky girlies?! ” Reyna and I repeat incredulously, both turning to look at Piper. 

She shrugs. “I’m censoring the G-word because it fills me with indescribable rage.”

“The feminine urge for mass destruction,” Reyna nods seriously. “Me too.”

We are all so busy laughing at this that we fail to notice that we have caught the attention of several hundred bird women.

“Oh shit,” Piper whispers on my left, “it’s the sky girlies.”

I snort, and then cough to cover it up as even more bird women turn to us.

“Food,” Reyna says, apparently failing to notice the threats to our lives as she stares at several assembled food trucks. I hear the distant revving of an engine.

“Um, Reyna, our lives are in danger,” I inform her, hands on my hips. “Maybe focus on that.”

“But Sombrero…” Reyna mutters, and then catches sight of the bird women. “Oh. Fuck.”

We stand in silence as the bird women stare at us. Finally, Reyna pushes up the sleeves of her jumper and stretches her legs. 

“If I’m going to die, I’ll get Sombrero first,” she declares, and then takes off at a sprint towards the food trucks. The bird-women – harpies , Annabeth’s voice says in my ear – screech and burst into the air. Piper and I share a look of solidarity – “Reyna is off her rocker” – before we run after our friend, the harpies right behind us.

We squeeze between two food trucks and emerge into a clearing full of dying grass and wooden tables. Reyna darts to the left, jumps up to cling onto the counter of the Sombrero truck, and swipes a takeaway box full of the Mexican food. She nods at Piper and me, who are staring at her blankly, and then dashes towards the centre of the clearing. 

She seems to be running towards the source of the engine sound I’d heard earlier. There, screaming on top of a lunch table full of food and waving around a weed whacker is, at first sight, a mentally absent person. Under further inspection, I gather it is just a manic man dressed in a bathrobe. 

This apparently doesn’t deter Reyna, who holds her Mexican food tightly to her chest as she runs towards him. Piper sighs heavily beside me and we both reluctantly jog after Reyna to avoid being devoured by the bird women. 

The guy in the bathrobe is old, fat and mostly bald. His bathrobe is spattered with ketchup, and he stumbles around the top of the lunch table in fuzzy pink bunny slippers, swinging his gas-powered weed whacker at the half-dozen harpies that are hovering over his picnic table. He’s clearly blind, his eyes are milky white, and he usually misses the harpies by a lot, but he’s still doing a pretty good job fending them off. 

“Back, dirty chickens!” he bellows. 

“The Sombrero’s still warm,” Reyna murmurs to me as we reach her. I shoot her my “ Are you fucking serious” glare, and she shrugs. Piper, Reyna and I watch in silence as Mr Mentally Absent waves around his weed whacker, screaming what might be Spice Girls at the top of his lungs (it’s hard to tell, because his voice is so raspy and the weed whacker is so loud). 

Suddenly, Piper elbows me hard and I glance at her, irritated. She points to the table the deranged man is standing on and I spot what’s caught her attention. There, next to the piles of food, is a golden lyre that seems to glow . 

Ah. That’s what we’re here for then.

“Hey!” I shout loudly. “HEY! Crazy man, down here!”

“AH!” Deranged dude screams, pointing at me. “AH! AAahH! ”

I blink, taking a step back. Piper glances at me, eyebrow raised and slightly concerned. Reyna even takes a pause on her Sombrero. Um . 

Suddenly, I am less eager to complete this quest. “Uh. Hi!” I force a cheerful smile. Bonkers guy’s eyes are really big. “Who are you?”

Crazy man tilts his head back and laughs. And laughs. And laughs. We all subconsciously start edging away. 

“I’m Phineas,” he says eventually, like he hadn’t just been cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West. 

“Oh,” I glance around for an escape. “I’m –”

“RACHEL ELIZABETH DARE!” Phineas warbles, tee-heeing like a fucking mental asylum patient. “THE ORACLE OF DELPHI! ” 

I’m just gonna go, Reyna mouths at me, jerking her thumb behind her. Bye .

I take a deep breath and, inexplicably, scream.

Everyone in the clearing freezes. Phineas’ tee-heeing falters. Reyna stares at me over her shoulder with a face that clearly says, girl, it is never that serious. Piper side-eyes me, probably wondering what she can get for a two-in-one deal at the local asylum. 

One thing about me; I do not think. Thinking is a waste of time, probably a government conspiracy and requires much more brain cells than I possess. Most of the time, I just do . Gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss? No. Just fucking yolo . 

So, with no thoughts running through my mind, I jab my fingers at the golden lyre behind Phineas and scream .

I get the feeling that Phineas has never been out-deranged before, because he glances at Piper and Reyna, suddenly unsure. For dramatic effect, I burst into tears. My friends look at each other, disturbed.

“I’m sorry!” I sob, covering my eyes with my hands. “I’m so sorry, it’s just – I can’t! I can’t do this anymore!” I scream again, dissolving into a puddle on the ground.

“You can’t what?” Phineas asks, confused.

“I can’t look at that – that thing! ” I shout, pointing at the lyre and letting out an exaggerated cry. “It’s so ugly!”

Phineas turns his head towards the object. “Ugly? No… this is Apollo’s lyre.”

“It’s so ugly I want to throw up!” I wail, “It’s so ugly I’d rather die than look at it!”

Phineas appears to be at a loss for words. “I don’t understand. She told me it was one of the most divine objects to ever exist.”

“Well, she lied!” I shriek, not knowing who she is. “If that is a divine object, I’m a centaur! Honestly, I’m glad you’re blind. The sight of that – thing makes me want to claw my eyes out!”

“I…” Phineas glances at Piper and Reyna, who have by now caught the drift and are mimicking throwing up and fainting. “Is it really that bad?”

“MY EYES!” I howl, falling backwards. “MY POOR, TRAUMATISED EYES!”

Phineas edges away from the lyre like it’s infectious. “I didn’t know…”

“I’d – I’d offer to take it off your hands but –” I sob loudly, “I just – I can’t bear to look at it. My eyes!”

“Please,” Phineas pleads, shaking my trembling form. “Get it away from me! Get it out of here!”

I take a deep breath and glance at it, immediately weeping again. “I will! I will for you!” I make a show out of hesitating to pick it up, crying and screaming and pretending to throw up the whole time. Piper and Reyna echo my actions, if only to cover up their giggles.

I hold the lyre away from my body, arms quivering. “I’ll take it away, for you!” I tell Phineas tearfully. “No one deserves this monstrosity!”

“You have to destroy it,” Phineas says tentatively. 

“I will,” I promise, lying through my teeth. “No one will ever be traumatised by this again. Not on my watch!”

“BE SAFE!” Phineas yells after me as I wail and sob as I carry the lyre away from the lunch table he’s at. “DON’T LOOK AT IT!”

When Piper, Reyna and I finally reach the line of food trucks and duck behind one, we burst into laughter, trying and failing to control our giggles. 

A loud squawk to our left reminds us of the bird women, and we all sober up immediately. 

“I got you,” Reyna says solemnly to a green harpy, pulling out a silver bow Artemis had gifted her and taking aim at Phineas, who is sitting on the wooden lunch table with his head in his hands, staring at the ground blankly. 

She releases the arrow. It flies across the clearing, striking him in the back and causing him to erupt into dust. The harpies all around us suddenly burst into the air, flying straight at the lunch table and diving for all the food piled there. I have the urge to cry. 

Piper swallows heavily beside me, similarly emotional, and turns away from the scene. “Well, that’s two down, one to go!” she says optimistically. 

“Hip hip hooray for us,” Reyna mumbles, back to devouring her Sombrero again. I roll my eyes playfully, about to suggest mailing the lyre to Olympus, when a scream comes from the table we had just left. 

We whip towards it in unison, watching as several harpies rise into the sky haphazardly, squawking. I tilt my head, squinting for the source of the sudden chaos, when I catch sight of a pink bathrobe.

“No…” Piper gasps as our eyes all seem to spot Phineas at the same time. “He just dusted! Reyna killed him, didn’t she?”

“I did,” Reyna confirms, “or at least, I thought I did…”

“No, you did,” I say surely. “That – he shouldn’t be back.”

“Back. Noun. The rear surface of the human body from the shoulders to the hips,” a voice says from behind us. We turn around to see a harpy there, her feathers red and face gaunt. “ Mind and Mend Your Hips . Hips, hips, hips.”

“Uh,” I glance at Piper and Reyna, who shrug. “Hi? What’s your name?”

“Top 10 names for girls in the 1980s,” the harpy replies in a second, “Jessica, Jennifer –”

“Is your name Jessica?” Piper asks.

“Jessica, daughter of Shylock. William Shakespeare, The Merchant of Venice, 1598. March 19, Count Adolf von Schwarzenberg of Austria captures the Turkish fortress at Győr,” says the harpy.

“Um… okay,” I decide not to touch that . “Do you know why Phineas isn’t dead?”

The harpy shivers from head to toe. “Phineas. Bad, bad, bad. No food. Only cheese for Ella. Ella doesn’t like cheese.”

“You’re name is Ella?” I ask quickly before the harpy can launch into a spiral of disconnected topics again.

“Ella. Aella. ‘Harpy.’ In English. In Latin. Ella doesn’t like cheese,” she says that all in one breath, clawing at her hair. Quicker than I can blink, she lunges at Reyna, snatching the Sombrero out of her hands. 

“Hey!” Reyna whines when Ella sniffs it and then discards the Mexican food on the ground.

The harpy sighs. “Not from his table. Ella cannot eat. Sad. Sombrero would be good for harpies.”

“Not from…” I frown, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Wait,” Piper holds a finger to her lips. “Wait, wait. Hang on, um. Phineas. He’s that guy that Odyssey guy ran into, right? No, wait, it wasn’t him. Heracles? No. Um, who else… Oh! The Argonauts. Those boat guys! Yeah…” Piper mumbles a few more things before shouting in triumph. “He’s a king! Of, um, somewhere. Of dentist… Spicy Dentist land? And the Argonauts came… Phineas was a seer, but he was a piece of shit? No, the gods cursed him because he kept telling everyone secrets about the future. And they sent harpies to steal his food every time he tried to eat. Or… no, he hated the sun. And then the sun dude, he sent the harpies. Because Zeus was like, oh, should I kill you or blind you? And Phineas was like, blind me, the sun sucks. And then… two of the boat guys, they chased the harpies away. Yeah.”

She looks at me expectantly, smug at having recalled this information.

“Um, good job?” I say slowly, still confused. “What does that have to do with Ella?”

Piper sighs like I am incredibly stupid. “Rachel. Look, in the myth, Phineas is a seer. He tells everyone about the future. The gods blind him. Harpies steal his food every time he tries to eat, starving him.”

“Like Tantalus,” Reyna interjects.

Piper ignores her. “Whoever gave Phineas that lyre reversed it. Now , Phineas is starving the harpies. They must be cursed to only eat from his table or something.”

“Oh,” I say, feeling incredibly stupid. I turn to Ella. “Is Piper right?”

“Photosynthesis,” Ella mutters. “Noun. Biology. The synthesis of complex organic materials. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times; it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness…”

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” I decide.

“Wait,” Reyna tilts her head, “so Phineas was a mortal, not a monster? Shouldn’t he like, be crumbling?”

“Thanatos,” Ella says. “Chains, locked, locked, locked. Sisyphus locks… rock, rock, rock.”

“Sisyphus is that one girlie who kept cheating death, right?” I wonder out loud to myself. “Yes. Annabeth says he’s like the Greek version of, uh, Setne. Everyone hates him and wishes he would just die already. One of his attempts to escape death was capturing death, and he locked up Thanatos so nothing could die.”

“Nothing can die?” Piper repeats, “What, so we just keep killing monsters and they just keep coming back?”

“On the plus side, doesn’t that mean we can’t die either?” Reyna says with forced cheer. “Yay for us?”

“We can’t die unless, whoever’s controlling Thanatos hates us and wants us to die,” Piper rephrases.

“I’m going to take an educated guess and presume this person hates us,” Reyna sighs dejectedly. 

“I’m going to take an educated guess and presume whoever has Thanatos is also the person who stole all of the Olympian’s special stuff,” I say. “So… not yay for us because that means on top of finding Aphrodite’s thing, we have to find a literal god and also unchain said literal god.”

We sit in silence, mourning the people we were five minutes ago when we only had some problems and not several. 

Then Reyna speaks up. “Ok, so I have, um, four general questions about things happening in my life recently.”

“Shoot,” Piper says, finger-gunning Reyna and dramatically falling onto her back on the soft ground.

“One. Who the fuck keeps making problems for us? And why did they have to make problems for us? ” Reyna says, huffing and laying down next to Piper. “Two. Where is Thanatos and why does he keep getting kidnapped? Why doesn’t Hades have better security for his workers? What happened to the “safety first” protocol? Does it not apply to the underworld?”

“That’s more than four questions,” I point out, lying next to them. 

“Shut up, Rach. It’s two questions with subquestions that don’t count,” Reyna rolls her eyes like this should be obvious. “Three. Um, what was this one again? Oh yeah. Why is the sky sometimes fuzzy in some places but not in others? And four. Why did we enter the Labyrinth early in the morning but exit very late at night?”

“Oh,” Piper says. “Those are actually legitimate questions.”

“Yes, they are,” Reyna narrows her eyes at Piper. “What are you implying?”

“Rey, what do you mean the sky is sometimes fuzzy?” I interrupt. Reyna points to a random bit of air, hesitates, and then points to a different bit of air. 

“See? It’s weird. Like… Like Iris Messages, but without the message,” Reyna attempts to explain. 

Piper and I lean in, scrutinizing this random bit of air Reyna has declared fuzzy. 

“I see it,” Piper says eventually, sounding like she doesn’t see it at all.

“Bruh, it’s literally right there,” Reyna argues, gesturing at the air in a way that reminds me of a crazy woman. “You both think I’m a crazy woman, don’t you?”

“No,” Piper and I reply instantly, even though we do. I smile and turn back to Reyna’s bit of air as she huffs indignantly. I tilt my head like I might understand her odd fixation for this so-called fuzzy sky. 

“Oh,” I say, as I see what she means. “Oh. Why is it fuzzy?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Reyna shouts, nodding frantically. “It’s fucking fuzzy, Rachel! That’s not normal!”

“WHY THE FUCK IS THE SKY FUZZY?!” I yell, moving away from it. 

Piper looks between us, exasperated. “It’s literally not – Oh. Oh no, I see it now.”

“We’re being watched!” Reyna stabs at the air a few times with a stick, eyes wide. “We’re being STALKED!”

“STALKERS?” Piper screams hysterically. “NOT THE STALKERS!”

“STAY BACK!” Reyna shrieks, stabbing at the air valiantly with her stick as if that will unfuzzy-ify the air. I get the feeling this is getting out of hand. Just a little bit.

Piper throws a rock at the fuzzy bit of air and it hits something with a loud clink! And drops to the ground. We pause, confused.

I walk forward tentatively, feeling the air slowly until my hands wrap around something solid. I pull, and it comes forward. I did not expect this, so obviously I scream and drop the object. 

We all quickly gather around the thing and stare at it.

“Oh my gods,” Piper says, irritated. “They’re fucking watching us! What utter fucking –” she says a few words more colourful than the literal rainbow gay lesbian person she is. 

I pick up the camera – because that’s what it is, and peer closer at it. On it, a faint Hephaestus TV is engraved. A light blinks periodically. I sneer at it in disgust. Gods, honestly. 

I chuck it back on the ground where Reyna and Piper therapise themselves by screaming at it, stabbing it a few more times, crushing it with the heaviest rock they can collectively lift and stomping it to smithereens.

“Fucking watching us like we’re fucking – like we’re animals in a zoo performing tricks for their entertainment!” Reyna mutters.

“They’re probably going to send another one,” I say, equally annoyed.

“Then I’ll pulverise it!” Piper seethes, clenching her fists in vengeance. She hates cameras, probably because her dad was more interested in the press than her when she was a child.

I sigh, kicking a rock away from me. “I guess that answers one of four of Reyna’s questions. And I have the answer for question four.”

“Yeah?” Reyna asks, releasing a deep breath and sitting down again. Piper leans against her, moodily ripping blades of grass from the ground.

“Time must work differently in the Labyrinth,” I answer. “It’s a magical place, and Annabeth has always said time is bonkers in places like that. Now we have to work out how much time we spent in there, and how much time we have left to find Thanatos, Aphrodite’s sacred thing and the person behind all of this before the Winter Solstice.” 

Reyna looks up at the noon sun and sighs exaggeratedly. “Listen, I know that we have half a day ahead of us to get shit done and the solstice could be tomorrow but honestly I am so exhausted.”

I nod, agreeing. “I don’t want to say here with madman though.”

“Yeah,” Piper chimes in. “But at the same time, I feel terrible about leaving the harpies with that monster. They must be so hungry.”

“Hungry,” Ella echoes, causing us to all suddenly remember she’s still there.

“If we find Thanatos and free him, we can tell him to take Phineas to the Fields of Punishment personally,” I say, determined. “Then all the harpies can eat whatever they want.”

“Sounds good to me,” Reyna says. “I love it when shitty men get what they deserve.”

“Ella,” I say, turning to the harpy. “Do you know what day it is?”

Ella stares at the sky for a few moments. “December 17. The moon has just moved from Gemini to Cancer. There will be a full moon with 100% illumination.”

“Um, thanks for that,” I do some quick maths and realise we might be fucked. “Okay girls, we have exactly four days until the solstice. We spent an entire one and a half days in the labyrinth and now we’re going to have to speed run the rest of the quest, got it?”

“Can we start the speed run tomorrow?” Reyna asks hopefully.

“If we’re having a democratic discussion, I second Reyna’s motion,” Piper quickly says.

“As long as we get out of here, I don’t care,” I reply, knowing that it’ll be impossible to motivate these two now. 

“Great. Let’s go find some more sombrero,” Reyna picks herself up off the ground. “Let’s go girlbosses.”

“I’m going to cry,” Piper says as she follows. “Bleh.”

I turn to Ella. “You should come with us,” I say. “We’re going to find a way to break your curse.”

“No cheese,” Ella agrees. 

We eventually find Reyna some more sombrero and then collapse in an empty field for a few hours, doing absolutely nothing productive. Then we remember we’ve been lugging around Apollo’s lyre for ages and quickly send it to Olympus before he can ail us with too-bright rays of sunshine. And then, this will shock you, we continue to do nothing productive for the rest of the day. We’re good at that.

Chapter Text

FRANK

I have never had trouble murdering things before, so when the two-bodied asshole of a guy refuses to die after I stab him several times, I am shocked. 

Well, that’s inaccurate actually. He does die , he just also instantaneously undies seconds later. It’s very disorientating to watch a pile of dust form into a guy with two torsos, one head, and the ugly face I have ever seen.

“Does he normally do that?” Jason asks Eurytion, who frowns as he watches his boss crumble to dust for the twentieth time. 

“Nah,” Eurytion says eloquently. I stab the guy – Geryon? – again before he can start screaming profanities at me and sigh heavily. 

“It’s got to be something to do with the Olympians being robbed,” I say logically.

Leo – of course, Leo has to be a little shithead and add his own unwanted two cents – disagrees. “What, so they made it so monsters can’t die? That’s a little counterproductive, don’t you think?”

I refrain from instant murder. “I mean ,” I begin, glaring at Leo, “whoever stole the Olympian’s stuff must also be the reason monsters aren’t dying. Gods, use your brain.”

“Hey!” Leo shouts defensively. 

Jason interrupts and raises his hands. “First of all, Frank, chill.” I open my mouth to say something but he quickly continues louder. “SECOND OF ALL, I think Frank is right. Which means what we’re trying to do here –” He gestures to Geryon “– is useless. He’s not going to die.”

“But then how are we going to kill him?” Leo asks, tilting his head.

“We’ll simply keep him preoccupied until he loses the will to live,” Jason says. “Frank, stab him one more time will you?”

I oblige, because I like stabbing things, and Geryon erupts into dust again. This time, however, Jason steps forward and pulls on the winds to send the particles swirling into the air.

“Now he’s a little bit too busy in his own personal whirlwind to reform,” Jason says smugly. I huff and get to my feet, pocketing my dagger. 

Eurytion shrugs. “Works for me,” he says.

“We’ll come visit you after we’ve sorted all of this out,” Jason says. “Ka-pow your ugly boss for you again.”

Eurytion laughs as Jason whistles for his new two-headed puppy and ushers it out of the door. 

“See ya!” Jason shouts over his shoulder as we board Festus. Eurytion waves and we depart.

Here comes the fairly boring part – listening to Jason and Leo ramble about absolutely everything for hours until we find another place to potentially die. We get followed by a few monsters again, and this time I notice that the harpies we knock out of the sky reform quickly. Yesterday, I hadn’t been paying attention. 

“Ok guys, let's go over our checklist,” Jason says eventually, having decided to be productive for once. “Leo, checklist?”

Leo pulls out a piece of paper and shakes it out in front of him like it’s a metre-long scroll. He dramatically clears his throat and peers over the words. “Okay, number one… find hepatitis’ thingy. Who wrote this? That’s not how you spell his name.”

“You wrote it,” I remind him.

“Oh,” Leo says, before hurriedly rushing on. “Number two, find Zeus’ thingy. Not check. Number three, find Ares’ thingy .”

“Check!” Jason sing–songs happily. “We’re so good at this guys. We only have two boxes left.”

“We also need to work out why nothing is dying and then come back and kill Geryon. And also hunt down whoever originally stole the Olympian’s symbols of power. And –”

“Yeah, yeah, alright. We get it,” Jason interrupts. “Jeez, Frank, don’t be such a Debbie downer.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re excused. Okay, so. What are we thinking of doing today? Hephaestus or Zeus?” Jason ponders out loud. I stare at him and imagine all the ways I could kill him. Imagining all the ways I could kill people is my favourite pastime. 

“We should go down there,” Leo points at the ground. Jason and I peer over.

“Yeah, we probably should check that out,” Jason affirms.

Below us is a large assembly of various types of monsters, all staring directly up at us. They’re armed with spears and clubs and seem to be brandishing them at Festus. 

“Here’s an idea: how about we don’t go down to the angry swarm of monsters that will most definitely try to kill us?” I say.

“Let’s have a vote,” Jason supplies.

“Let’s not have a vote –”

“All in favour of going down to the monsters say aye,” Jason declares. “Aye!”

“Aye!” Leo seconds. “I love democracy.”

“Not aye!” I say furiously. “Not aye! Can you guys not see how bad of an idea this is?”

“Frank,” Jason sighs, “What if that suspicious horde of monsters is guarding one of the things we’re looking for? That can’t just be a coincidence.”

“Everything is a coincidence unless you think it’s a coincidence, and then it’s not!” I argue.

“Well, you don’t think it’s a coincidence so that must mean it is,” Jason shrugs decisively. “Leo, pull over.”

“That’s not how it –” I scream as Leo suddenly veers Festus down at a 90-degree angle, sending the bronze dragon into a nosedive and heading directly into the centre of the swarm of monsters.

“ABORT, ABORT!” Jason screams, clutching his pup for dear life. “LEO, CRASH TO THE SIDE NOT IN THE CENTRE!”

Leo sighs like Jason has just taken all the fun out of his life. “Yeah, okay, whatever.”

Leo violently jerks us off our course of certain death and instead crashes us straight into a lake. 

“Great job, Leo,” I bite out sarcastically, shaking water from my hair.

Leo huffs. “Yeah, well, I would’ve had an easier time concentrating if you weren’t right next to me and didn’t smell like – like a fucking donkey who lives in a swamp !”

“I’m going to fucking kill –” 

“GUYS!” Jason shouts, arms crossed. “You’re upsetting Auster.”

“Who the fuck is Auster?” I ask.

Jason gasps. “Frank! That is so rude. Auster is right here and he can hear you. He has feelings too, you know!”

Jason points at the two-headed pup Eurytion gave him. The dog whines and nuzzles Jason’s legs. 

“Okay, whatever,” I say, because it’s only 10 am but my head hurts and I’m tired. “What’s your brilliant plan for that ?” I point at the swarm of monsters shouting angrily at us.

“Plan?” Jason asks blankly.

I blink at him slowly. I contemplate several very painful ways to murder a man. I take a deep breath and decide I cannot do this today. 

“You’re on your own with this one. I’m going that way,” I point away from the monsters. “C’est la vie, fuckers.” 

I turn around and march away from the two idiots. Behind me, Jason and Leo make loud, outraged gasping sounds. They hold a hand to their hearts and stagger around like wounded animals. Jason wipes a tear from his eye and murmurs, “I can’t believe he’s doing this to us.” Leo collapses on the ground, heaving, seemingly heartbroken. 

“Frank, you bitch!” Jason calls after me when he seems to realise I’m seriously not going to turn back. “I thought we had something! I thought our connection was special !”

“FRAAANNNKKK!” Leo shouts, “WE’RE SORRY!”

I can tell the exact moment they get snatched up by the monsters because their shouting is abruptly cut short. I do not turn around. Those idiots voted themselves into this mess, so they can get themselves out of it.

I sit down once I reach the top of the hill I’d been determinedly marching up. There, I’m able to see what’s been happening behind me. Jason and Leo appear to be having a 2 vs 100-man debate with the monsters, angrily pointing and stomping and waving their arms. 

I know you’re probably thinking; Frank, they’re your friends! You can’t just leave them to face possible death! That is where you’re wrong. My relations with them absolutely do not mean I can’t leave them to die. You might have confused me with someone who has a moral compass. I don’t. In my professional opinion, if you decide to make a stupid choice you deserve to face the consequences of that choice. So I sit and I watch as Jason and Leo try to bargain their freedom. 

At last, they seem to have reached an agreement with the monsters because Jason claps his hands together. A cyclops picks up a giant radio from seemingly nowhere and places it down in front of Jason and Leo. Jason and Leo sit down as a group of monsters form a line, surrounded by the rest of the crowd. Jason shouts something at the sky and for reasons unknown, Apollo appears and takes a seat atop the radio.

Then, I witness my absolute worst nightmare come true. 

Apollo presses a button on the radio and the monsters burst into life. I don’t know if they made it up on the spot via telepathy or if they regularly danced to PSY’s “Gangnam Style”, but they all moved in unison. For a full 3 minutes and 42 seconds, I am forced to watch as the group of monsters – mainly composed of Cyclopes and Telkhines – perform the Gangnam style. They shuffle and wave their arms in the arm and move from side to side with their hands on their hips, and it’s honestly the most terrifying thing I have ever seen in my entire life.

Apollo cheers and claps and somewhere in my mind I register that they must be having a contest of some sort. I really, really, really want to turn around and claw my eyes out, but I can’t draw my gaze away from the dancing monsters. A few whoop aggressively in time with the song, bending over and twerking. They skip-step, which is really just them jumping up and down aggressively, with their hands in front of them like they’re riding horses. 

When they finish, they bow. Apollo gives them a standing ovation, shouting, “Bravo! Bravo!” while Jason and Leo somewhat dazedly clap along. I smack my face with the palm of my hand.

Jason and Leo stand up and take the monsters’ spot in the clearing. And then every single pair of eyes turns towards me.

“Oh no!” I shout at them, standing up. “No! Absolutely not!”

“Frank!” Jason yells in exasperation, hands on hips. “Come on! We’re a trio!”

“This is your mess, not our mess!” I argue, arms crossed. “I am not getting involved in this!”

“Oh, come and be a good sport,” Apollo says airily, and suddenly I am not on the hill but infact right in front of him. He grins down at me. “I’m sure you’ll love it,” he says as he pushes me towards Jason and Leo. “And if you don’t, I’m sure you won’t have any time to regret it.”

“What the fuck have you done ?” I growl at Jason and Leo, who for their part look at least a little sheepish.

“We’re having a dancing contest,” Jason explains. “If we win, we get to not die and they give us Hephaestus’ special thingy. If they win, they get to bite our heads off. Apollo’s the judge.”

“And I am judging fairly!” Apollo calls from his perch on the giant radio. “No favourites! Now, hmm, let’s see… Ah! I love this song.”

I have only one second to regret my entire existence but I make the most of it. I curse Jason and Leo and Apollo and my father and Chiron and Lupa and pretty much anyone that comes to mind. I plot how I’m going to absolutely murder Jason and Leo when this is over, given that we are not already murdered by then. I fantasise about throwing a rock – several big, large, rocks – at Apollo’s stupidly smug beautiful handsome face. I sigh very loudly.

And then the music starts. 

Now tell me why fucking Barbie Girl starts playing. Tell me why. Not to be dramatic but I die on the spot. 

Armed with several years of Just Dance tournaments, we start moving. With only my life as motivation to not evaporate from pure embarrassment, I dance with more conviction than I ever have in my life. As we spin around each other and mime having plastic limbs, Apollo and a group of probably drunk Cyclopes cheer us on. Jason catches my eye as we twirl, a shit-eating grin on his face. He winks and I laugh out of sheer incredulity. Why is our life like this? 

We pretend to brush our hair and tap our feet on the ground with our hands on our hips and swing our arms around and we laugh because it’s such a stupid situation but it’s fun . It’s meant to be a two-person dance but years of improv classes make it easy to incorporate a third person. Jason takes the centre, blowing air kisses while Leo and I present him with jazz hands on either side. I get the feeling he would absolutely be rocking a Barbie dress right now if he had the chance. 

We bow theatrically when we finish our performance, out of breath but still giggling hysterically. Apollo whoops and cheers and claps, his face split in two with a dazzling grin. I glance up and he winks at me, eerily similar to Jason’s. 

“Wonderful performance, boys,” he declares with gusto, his cheeks rosy, probably because of how hard he’d been laughing his head off in delight. “I have to say, it’s quite a hard decision. You all danced spectacularly. What do you say, girls?” 

He turns and for the first time, I notice the nine goddesses lounging around the clearing, some still giggling into each other’s shoulders, others clutching their chests and wheezing, completely hysterical.

One of the goddesses manages to regain her composure and points a finger at us. She goes to open her mouth but bursts into laughter and collapses on one of her sisters. Apollo raises an eyebrow and glances back at us. 

“They don’t get out much. The last time they watched a performance as glorious as yours was Madonna in 1985. You’ll have to excuse them.” He coughs loudly.

“Definitely these three,” one of the goddesses says, her hair a cascading tower. Assenting murmurs echo hers.

“It’s a tough choice. Make them do it again just so we’re sure,” another says, her golden hair littered with pearls. “Please, make them do it again Apollo.”

We look at Apollo. He grins at us. “Now ladies, they’re very busy, I’m sure. We mustn’t disturb their quest any longer.” The goddesses groan and throw their hands in the air, disappointed. Jason swallows his laughter next to me, and Leo has to turn around to hide his face.

Apollo climbs atop the giant radio once more and extends his arms, addressing the crowd. “It was a very close call, ladies and not–so–gentlemen. A very close call indeed! Alas, there can only be one winner, and as majority votes, it must be –” He flounders for a second, trying to think of a theatrical way to announce us as a group. “The Argonauts, 2.0! Three cheers, let’s go!”

Led by Apollo, the enthusiastic Muses and disgruntled monsters start hip hip hooraying us. Apollo bequeaths us with laurel wreathes and the nine goddesses start up a song in celebration, whipping out electric guitars and entire drumsets from out of nowhere.

“So, about Hephaestus’ thingy,” I say to Jason and Leo as the monsters begin jumping up and down to Spice Up Your Life by Spice Girls. “How exactly do we get that, now we’ve won?”

Before they can even open their mouths a group of Telkhines drop two bronze tools in front of us with a thump ! They glare at us, seething at their loss. Note to self: Telkhines do not exercise the importance of sportsmanship. 

“It’s a hammer,” Leo says, tilting his head, “and tongs.”

“I feel like his symbols of power could’ve been a tad bit cooler,” Jason mutters. “We danced our butts off for this.”

“Hammers and tongs are very important in the forge,” Leo answers. “But yeah, they’re a bit rusty. Who has the sticky notes?”

Jason passes his pad of hot pink sticky notes and glitter gel pen to Leo, who takes them without question and scribbles an address on it. He stares at it for a few moments before holding it out to me. 

“Is this spelt right?”

I squint to read his barely legible handwriting.

Two Hephaestus, Mt Olympos.

Yuo betar gard these tools with yore live sins I worked my ass off for tehm.

XOXOXOXOXOXO Leo Valdez (yore son.) 

I sigh. “No.”

Leo shrugs. “Close enough, I guess.” He smacks the sticky note onto the tools and watches in satisfaction as they disappear with a flash.

“Demigods!” Apollo shouts right behind me, causing me to jump about a foot into the air. Apollo laughs brightly and clamps a hand down on my shoulder. “Easy there, Son of Mars. You’re as jumpy as your father was after Mercury and I worked his hair dryer to sing Mariah Carey at full volume.”

Jason snorts and I cackle despite myself.

“It was brought up at every dinner for a decade afterwards. Good times. Regardless, I need to speak with you,” Apollo says, his light tone suddenly turning serious. He glances at the sky before reaching his hand out into thin air and seemingly coming in contact with a solid object. Leo frowns at the faint mechanical whirring that fills the air. Apollo twists the invisible object around before pulling us into a quiet corner. 

“The thing is,” he begins, only to be interrupted by Jason.

“Do you want us to find your symbol? Because we already gave that job to group two, and there’s no takesies-backsies, so you’re just going to have to hold tight and –”

“Oh no, I’ve already got my lyre back. Your friends sent it to me earlier. I wouldn’t be in such a good mood if they hadn’t, so you're lucky they work fast. Also, on that note,” He sniffs as he cradles his golden lyre in his arms, it having materialised while he was speaking, “when you see those girls again, tell them that their mean words about my precious lyre made me very sad! It’s very dazzling and beautiful, like me. Not ugly . Ugh, I’m upset now,” he wipes at his eyes, lashes fluttering.

“So…” Leo says slowly after Apollo huffs indignantly for the fifth time in a row and pats his lyre soothingly. “What were you going to tell us then?”

“Oh yes,” Apollo snaps back to attention. He clears his throat and looks at the sky again. “You see, you’re in a little bit of a pickle,” he says, looking at Jason specifically. “The thing is, you’re a very big problem for… certain divinities. You’re not supposed to exist, neither is the Son of Poseidon. This whole… predicament has sparked several, well, let’s say quite murderous intentions towards yourself. A lot of powerful people would have you dead.”

“That’s pretty much the story of my life,” Jason says deadpan. “My stepmother tried to sacrifice me to wolves when I was two. Why are you telling us this?”

“Well, that’s your problem, Jason Grace. You see, the Fates planned to have you sent to the Goddess Lupa. That was their design. Your sister's actions that night Hera tried to convince Beryl Grace to leave you sparked a chain of events. None of the demigods you’re familiar with are even supposed to have met each other, at this point in time. But they have. The lives you’re precariously living are out of the Moirai's control. I’ve never seen anything like it,” Apollo explains. “To sell it to you shortly, Jason Grace, your group of demigods are an anomaly of Fate.”

“How could someone interfere with the Fates?” I ask, confused. Apollo throws his hands in the air. 

“That is knowledge I have not been made privy to. All I know is that somehow, it’s connected to the current situation. Now, Father does not wish you to be made aware of this. He himself does not know all the details. I suspect you would not still be here if he did. But I am telling you this, Jason Grace, because your actions, now and years in the future, can have consequences far greater than yourself. Be careful.” 

As quickly as the seriousness in Apollo had appeared, it disappears too. He straightens up and smiles. “I hope to see the three of you at the Solstice. Good luck, demigods, and farewell.”

With that, he departs in a burst of golden light. 

“Well, that wasn’t depressing at all,” Jason mutters, scratching the back of his neck. I swallow thickly.

“It probably means nothing malicious. All sunshine and rainbows.”

Suddenly, Auster appears, tail wagging and mouths panting, two great slobbering tongues hanging out. Jason laughs as the pup leaps at him, lapping at his face eagerly. Leo and I join in (the laughing not the lapping) and, with the Muses performing Spice Girls’ best hits in the background, we stagger to our feet and venture off to find somewhere to camp for the night.

Chapter Text

MEG

Percy has been kidnapped. There was a very big storm, the boat was rocked around a lot, and then a goddess lady snatched him. Chrysaor was unimpressed and went in to save him. I can only assume he’s dead now, given how he’s been gone for a whole five minutes.

“Can I be the captain now?” I ask Annabeth. 

“No,” she replies, because she hates me and wants me to die, I guess. 

It’s not fair that Percy gets to be the captain just because he can control water and the boat. Good captains shouldn’t get kidnapped by goddess ladies. I haven’t been kidnapped by a goddess lady.

I stare at the water for a long time (five seconds) before I get bored. I wish Percy would hurry up in dying or not dying. I hate it when he takes so long to figure it out. If I had been kidnapped by a goddess lady, I wouldn’t be sitting around and chatting. I would just stab her. 

I turn to Peaches. Peaches has an apple and is attacking it with peaches. Beside him, various other non-peaches fruit have been tied up. I gather he is committing mass murder in the world of fruits. 

I look up at the sky and count to five in my head. 

“Can I be the captain now?” I ask again.

“No,” Annabeth repeats. 

I stomp my foot and cross my arms. “You’re the worst.”

“Okay, Meg.”

“I hate you and you smell like a decaying carrot!”

“Okay, Meg.”

I scream and stomp my foot a few more times to assert dominance. “You’re mean and stupid and ugly and smelly and –,” I suddenly have a brilliant idea. “And I like Percy more than I like you!”

“Okay, Meg.”

I fall to the ground and die. Annabeth has just shot me and now I am dead.

After screaming and shouting and kicking and cursing on the ground a little bit more, I take a deep breath. I am very calm and collected. “Annabeth, please can I be captain now?”

“No.”

I breathe in. I breathe out. I love Annabeth very much and I will not kill her.

“How about –”

“No.”

Well, fine. I’m sorry it had to come down to this but Annabeth is being simply unreasonable. “Peaches,” I say, very calmly and collected. “Kill Annabeth.”

Peaches, who had been stomping on his apple very aggressively, looks over his shoulder at me. He pulls out a gun. 

My eyes widen. I did not know he had a gun.

Annabeth turns around very slowly. Peaches loads his gun.

“Meg,” she says. “Tell Peaches not to kill me.”

I open my mouth to tell Peaches to abort his murder mission, and then I close it as an even better idea comes to me. “Can I be captain now?”

Annabeth doesn’t answer me. This is because Peaches fired his gun and she is now running for her life up and down the deck of the ship.

“Why is Peaches chasing Annabeth with a gun?” Percy asks right next to me. Oh great, he isn’t dead. Hip hip hooray. 

I glare at him. “It’s your fault.”

“What –”

“MEG!” Annabeth shouts, halfway up the mast. She is not happy. “If you don’t tell Peaches to stop trying to kill me, you can forget about dessert on Friday.”

I cross my arms. “Say I can be captain.”

“You can forget about having dessert EVER!” Annabeth screams. Peaches fires his gun again. Luckily for Annabeth, he is a terrible shot. Unluckily for the sails though, because now they’re full of holes. 

“YOU can forget about having dessert,” I shout. “You’re the one that’s going to be DEAD!”

Chrysaor and Percy are sitting on the railing of the ship, ready to jump into the water should Peaches turn his gun on them. Smart. 

Annabeth screams at me. She tells me I am the worst adopted sister-child ever. She tells me she hopes a giant spider eats me. She tells me I’m never going to lay eyes on any form of dessert again. She tells me she’s going to pray to the gods so I get turned into a dolphin hybrid thing. 

I will not let this blasphemy slide. I scream right back at her. I tell her I’m going to ritual sacrifice her in her sleep. I tell her I hope her afterlife is haunted by fruit goblins with guns. I tell her she has a big nose and her toes are wonky. I tell her I hope she is followed by a slight scent of rotten tomatoes that she can neither get rid of nor find the source of for the rest of her life.

Annabeth opens her mouth to retort. Unfortunately at that moment, the ocean tries to eat us. 

Percy falls off the side of the ship. Chrysaor glances at the water and says a very profound and helpful, “Oh no.” Annabeth clings to the rigging for dear life. Peaches seemingly runs out of bullets, which I have started to suspect are actually peach pits, and stares at his gun uncomprehendingly. 

Our ship is rocked from side to side. Gigantic waves rise and crash over us, flooding the deck in water. I stagger over to the side of the ship and peer over.

The ocean has teeth.

The ocean also has a surprisingly strong pair of vocal cords and is screaming at us as its mouth opens very wide and cleanly chews off the front of our ship. 

“Do we have lifeboats?” I shout into the air. Nobody answers me. Everyone is screaming. 

Briefly, Percy’s head surfaces from the water and he waves his arms at me frantically. Then he is swallowed by a whirlpool. RIP Percy. 

Peaches appears next to me. He throws a peach at the ocean.

The ocean stops trying to eat us. The waves fall back into the water. The whirlpool that swallowed Percy dissipates.

I turn to Peaches with an open mouth. “You saved us!”

“No, he didn’t,” Chrysaor grimaces, clutching to the railing. “That’s Charybdis. She sucks in water and then spews it out. In a few seconds, she going to regurgitate all the water she just swallowed and propel us to who knows where at who knows what speed. Which isn’t good for us because we only have half a ship left, and Percy is down there.”

The ocean trembles for a second underneath us. I grip the railing and brace myself. With a sound similar to what I imagine a dying whale lets out as it takes its final breath, Charybdis starts to throw up. We shoot backwards at a frightening speed. Peaches flies over the railing and I have to grab ahold of him to stop him from being lost to the sea forever. 

I feel a little bad about Percy’s almost certain death. He was my favourite cousin. I liked him more than Jason.

Suddenly Annabeth’s screams, which had been going on for quite a while now (she has an impressive vocal range), peak. She’s positively shrieking as she looks to where our ship is going. I try to glance over my shoulder at what she sees, but can’t manage to as I have to hold on to Peaches.

Our ship hits something very solid. It tips on a 90-degree angle, wavers for a moment, and then topples over so our ship is upside down on the shore of what must be an island. I drop onto the sand underneath me, Annabeth and Chrysaor doing the same thing. It’s dark with the ship on top of us, so I wiggle through the railings to get outside and access the area. 

I blink wearily as the sun hits my eyes. I bring a hand up to cover them and peer around. I immediately notice one thing; there are a lot of sheep here.

After noticing this, I immediately notice another thing; the sheep are GIGANTIC.

“Peaches…” Peaches murmurs in awe next to me, his hands on his head. He starts running through the herd of sheep, up to a hilly area. I watch him go and debate whether I should follow.

A spluttering sound from behind me has me turning around. Percy drags himself out of the ocean with a large trident suspended by a hand made out of water next to him. I tilt my head. He catches my eye and grins.

“I’ll explain later,” He says.

Chrysaor catches sight of him and the trident as he crawls out from under the wreckage of our ship. He opens and closes his mouth several times before shaking his head and looking around at our surroundings. 

“We might be fucked,” Annabeth announces. 

“Why?” Percy and I ask in unison.

“Oh, I hate this guy,” Chrysaor groans. 

Annabeth ignores him. She’s good at ignoring people. “We are on Polyphemus’ island. He’s a Cyclops. I have good news, and I have bad news.”

“What’s the good news?” I ask before Percy can. He scowls at me and flicks a stream of water at me. 

“The good news is that we’ll probably find one of the god’s symbols of power here,” Annabeth declares. 

We wait in silence. I stare at Percy very pointedly. He huffs. 

“What’s the bad news?” He asks. 

“The bad news is our ship pancaked one of Polyphemus’ sheep and he’s going to try to kill us now.” 

We all look at the dead, flat sheep. As if on cue, a roar echoes through the hills. 

“I have a plan,” Percy declares.

“Really?” I did not know Percy was capable of making plans. 

Percy glares at me. “Meg is going to go find the goddy thing. I am going to distract Polyphemus. Annabeth and Chrysaor are going to hide the dead sheep before he sees it.”

“MY SHEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!” somebody who I can only assume is Polyphemus cries out in anguish, his ugly face coming into view. “MY BABYYYYY!” 

“Okay, scratch that plan. Everybody block your ears.” Percy distributes clumps of wax that I have no idea how he got. Annabeth and Chrysaor shove wax into their ears. 

“Ew,” I say. I am not putting wax in my ears. I pull out my earphones and plug them into my iPod (I stole it from Rachel). I click play and hum as “I’ll Make a Man Out of You” from Mulan turns on. 

Percy blinks at me, then shoves me and points in the direction of the hills. I poke my tongue out and skip off.

Polyphemus comes crashing down onto the beach, shrieking. I glance back as I reach the grassy hills that the sheep are grazing on. Percy is holding up a hand. Polyphemus is crying. 

Peaches appears and jumps up and down in front of me, babbling. Then he turns and scrambles through the hills. I follow him. 

I do not dance through the hills as Li Shang calls his crew a spineless, pale, pathetic lot that haven’t got a clue in my ears. Okay, I lied. I am dancing through the hills.

“You must be swift as a coursing river,” I sing, twirling around. Peaches is waiting for me at the top of a hill, hand on hips. “With all the force of a great typhoon.”

Peaches throws a peach at me, fed up. I don’t care. Danny Osmond has absorbed me.

“WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE! MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE –” I reach the top of the hill and trip, rolling down it, “MOOOOOOOOOOOOOON! Ow.”

I pick myself up off the ground as Shang continues the next verse.

“Time is racing towards us!” I karate kick. Peaches throws another peach at me. “Until the huns arrive! OOF!” 

I am attacked by a sheep. 

“Ow,” I say to the sheep, because now my arm is sore. “Hey! That’s not nice.”

The sheep baas at me aggressively. I stand up. My music has been stolen from me and I am not happy. 

“BAAAAAAAA to you !” I shout at it. “You woolly, smelly, giant sheep!”

“PEACHES!” Peaches screams, throwing peaches. One hits me and the other hits the sheep. I pick up the peach and throw it back at him, irritated. Now we are at war. 

Peaches drowns me in peaches. I accept defeat and I pull myself out of the pile of peaches. The sheep starts to eat them. I’m not sure whether peaches are healthy for sheep to eat but I don’t stop it. 

“Fine, I’ll come,” I’ll say to Peaches, “No more dancing.”

“Peaches!” He exclaims, throwing his hands in the air and turning around. 

Suddenly, the sheep that attacked me dies. It staggers around, twitches, spasms and then dies. I guess sheep can’t eat peaches.

Somewhere in the distance, Polyphemus screams. I am glad that’s not my problem and run after Peaches.

After we’ve been running up hills for a few minutes, Peaches starts exclaiming excitedly and jumping up and down. He turns and claps at me and then points to what he’s seen. 

It’s a glowy shiny woolly thing. 

I glance between it and Peaches. He seems to be waiting for me to realise something.

“What?” I ask. He drops his hands and frowns at me, obviously disappointed in me. 

“Peaches,” He points at the woolly thing. “Peaches…” He points at the grass, then a tree, then a flower. 

“I don’t get it,” I say.

“PEACHES!” He screams, stomping. Then stops and breathes in calmly. He points at the woolly thing again, then points at a sheep. He makes horns with his hands sticking up from his head. “Peaches?” he asks, nodding, eyes wide.

“It’s from a sheep?” I guess. 

“Peaches!” He nods. He makes horns coming out of his head. 

“A ram?” I ask.

“Peaches! Peaches!” Now I seem to be getting it. He claps excitedly. He points at it and seems to be waiting for me again.

“What’s it so special for?” I ask. He slumps.

“Pea–ches,” he says slowly, eyes wide. I tilt my head and he mutters under his breath. He points at the woolly thing. “Peaches!” he flaps his arms.

“It’s from a flying ram?” I raise an eyebrow. He claps and nods frantically. I frown. “A flying ram? That’s golden… OH!”

“Peaches!” Peaches squeals as he picks up on my realisation. “Peaches!”

“It’s the golden fleece!” I facepalm and Peaches cheers. “That’s probably important, right? Okay, um…” I pick the fleece up, it’s very heavy. “Ugh… come on.”

I turn around, ready to go back to the shore, when I spot the cave. It has a large rock covering its entrance. I glance at Peaches.

“Peaches,” he says seriously, pointing at it. I sigh and start walking towards it.

I drop the fleece on the ground as I reach the boulder. Peaches squawks in indignation and pats it soothingly, glaring at me. I ignore him. I put my hands on my hips and stare up at the boulder. 

After five minutes of trying and failing to push the boulder out of the way, I huff and cross my arms. Stupid rock. 

I summon vines from the ground and wrap them around the boulder and then pull with all my might. The rock moves slightly and I heave. Peaches decides to help and tries to push the boulder, hitting it a few times for good measure. I pause for a second and take a deep breath. 

“Okay, here we go. Ready Peaches?” He nods. “Okay, 1, 2, 3, PULL!”

We manage to move the boulder just slightly, but enough to squeeze into the cave. I high-five Peaches, pick up the fleece and slip in. 

Somebody screams. I definitely don’t scream and pull out my scimitars, the fleece dropping to the ground. The person screams louder. 

“Don’t kill me! Don’t kill me! Oh my gods! Oh my sweet Pan, I’m going to die!” 

I frown and blink, trying to see through the dark and… I drop my scimitars and huff. It’s a satyr. 

The satyr continues to hysterically cry as I roll my eyes and look around. My eyes catch on a golden scythe. That’s probably important. I start towards it and then pause, turning the satyr. 

“GOAT BOY!” I should over him. He stops screaming. I point to the fleece. “Grab that,” I order.

He looks between me and the fleece. He lets out a baa of distress and then inches towards it. As he does so, I notice one more thing.

“Why are you in a wedding dress?” I tilt my head. The golden glow of the fleece illuminates his blush. 

“It’s a long story,” he murmurs. 

I shrug. “Okay.”

Suddenly, the satyr disappears. I glance around the cave, confused. 

“Goat boy?” I say aloud. Peaches lifts a rock and checks underneath it. He gasps and drops it. I take that to mean the satyr is not under the rock. I come to the only reasonable conclusion; I have vanquished Goat Boy. I offer a few moments of solemn silence in his name. RIP Goat Boy.

I turn back to the scythe. I climb up a rock and move to pick it up. The second my skin touches the handle, I flinch away, whisking my hand away. It burns . I glare at it and huff. It’s obviously goddy, so I have to take it with me, but I can’t do that if I can’t pick it up. I sit back and pout. I glance at Peaches.

“Peaches?” He offers. I gasp as an absolutely brilliant and amazing idea comes to me. I think back to Percy and the trident back on the shore. He had suspended it in the air with water.

I summon a vine and command it to wrap around the handle of the scythe. It doesn’t combust, so I take that as I good sign. 

“Come on,” I say to Peaches, leading the way out of the cave, the scythe floating behind us. 

Back on the shore, everyone is standing around very awkwardly. 

“What happened?” I ask. 

Annabeth, Percy and Chrysaor glance at each other furtively. Percy breaks first. 

“Annabeth drugged Polyphemus!” He shouts, pointing. 

Annabeth squawks and jumps to her feet. “ Chrysaor ritual sacrificed a sheep right in front of him and brought him to hysterical tears!”

Chrysaor gapes at her. “We agreed we wouldn’t bring that up!” He shrieks. He points at Percy frantically. “Percy convinced him to walk into the ocean through siren song!”

“So… You drowned the Cyclops?” I say slowly.

“Well…” Percy scratches the back of his neck. “Well, I mean – he can probably swim. Lots of Cyclopes can swim. I think. It’s really Annabeth’s fault –”

“I WOULDN’T HAVE NEEDED TO SEDATE HIM IF CHRYSAOR DIDN’T MURDER HIS SHEEP IN FRONT OF HIM!” Annabeth screams. 

“NOBODY ELSE WAS DOING ANYTHING!” Chrysaor shouts defensively. 

“PERCY WAS LITERALLY GOING TO –” 

“SHUT UP!” I yell. Everybody shuts up. “I have a confession to make as well. It’s been weighing down on me pretty heavily.” 

Everyone raises their eyebrows.

“I accidentally vanquished a goat boy and also Peaches killed a sheep.”

“PEACHES??” Peaches yelps, obviously not expecting me to out him.

“You vanquished a satyr?” Annabeth says, frowning. “What was a satyr doing here?”

“I’m still here, by the way!” 

We all turn to see Goat Boy crawling out from under the ship's wreckage, wedding dress in all its glory. 

“Goat Boy!” I cheer. “Phew, I thought I killed you!”

“Is that the golden fleece?” Annabeth asks.

“Oh yeah, I found that as well. Also,” I remember the golden scythe floating behind me. I point to it. “That fucking thing burnt me!” 

“Yeah!” Percy says. He points at his floating trident. “That burnt me when I tried to pick it up too! Athena’s aegis didn’t burn!”

Annabeth tilts her head. “Maybe it’s because it’s a symbol from an elder Olympian. You know; Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus. Their weapons are older and forged by the Elder Cyclopes.” 

“Well, I think that’s a bit RUDE OF THEM!” I say very loudly and very pointedly, looking at the sky. “VERY RUDE OF DEMETER AND POSEIDON. NOT VERY THOUGHTFUL. NOT VERY DEMURE.”

Chrysaor giggles and covers his face to hide his grin. His sunflower-shaped sunglasses skew as he bends over and giggles hysterically. I had lent them to him to replace the giant golden gorgon mask he had been using to cover his eyes previously. We’re not entirely sure whether he inherited the statue stare from his mother and don’t want to accidentally find out. 

Percy joins in on his laughter, and then I do, and then Annabeth, and suddenly we’re all laughing, bent over and gasping for breath. Even Peaches is cackling evilly. Goat Boy stares at us in horror, probably waiting for us to be smited (smote?) where we stand.  

The sun is setting when we finally gather ourselves. 

“So, what do we do now?” I ask, glancing at our half-eaten ship. 

“Well, we’ve found all of our assigned symbols,” Annabeth reasons, “Athena, Poseidon and Demeter. Plus Dionysus, and that fulfils our “return the loss of three” from the “mouth of the sea”. That must’ve been Charybdis. We probably aren’t going to find anything else sailing on the ocean.”

“But there were more lines in our verse, right? “Find the ones lost in time and unburden innocents of crime”. What could that possibly mean?” Percy wonders.

“I have no idea,” Annabeth says decisively. “Which means we’re going to steal that boat over there,” she points to a row boat tethered to a stick bobbing on the sea a few metres away. I have no idea why it’s there, because Polyphemus would never have fitted into it. Maybe he liked to send his sheep out in it for enrichment. 

“That’s my boat!” Goat Boy supplies helpfully. Yeah, that probably makes more sense than sheep enrichment.

“We’re going to steal that boat and sail until we find land, then wander around until we end up in another life-threatening situation that reveals what we need to do next,” Annabeth declares. “Let’s go.”

“I don’t like the sound of that plan very much –” Goat Boy begins. Annabeth points at the boat.

“Get in, Goat Boy,” she orders. Goat Boy gets in the boat.

“What should we do with this?” I gesture at the scythe, my mother’s scythe. Annabeth rummages in her backpack for a sticky note. She gives one to me and hands me a glitter pen. 

“Address it to your mum, on Olympus,” she says, before turning to write Percy’s.

I sit down to write my message. 

TOO DEMETER, OLYMPUS.

I pause, wondering what to write. 

“PEACHES!” Peaches says vindictively, babbling at the scythe with an angry face. I smile.

WEN I SEE YUO, PEACHES IS GIOING TOO THROO A PEACH AT YUO.

XOXO MEG (+PEACHES)

I stick it onto the scythe quickly, before Annabeth can see it and confiscate it, and watch in satisfaction as it disappears. I join Goat Boy in the boat.

It’s a tight squeeze with all five of us, plus Peaches, but we manage. I lean on Percy’s shoulder and yawn, my eyes fluttering shut. Tomorrow, we’ll probably almost die six times, but right now I’m tired.

Chapter Text

Piper

We have been locked in a basement. 

You might be wondering, How did this happen? Let me explain.

You see, we were going to do something that would help us succeed in completing our quest, but we got distracted. We were walking through the streets of Brooklyn, because that is where we ended up after the Labyrinth dropped us out of the sky, and Rachel suddenly remembered that her parents lived in the area and decided she wanted to rob them. 

Reyna and I, for our part, didn’t mindlessly go along with this. We asked many important questions like, “Can we also set their house on fire?” and “Do you think they have choc chip ice cream?” before we agreed to help Rachel. 

Then we broke in through a window instead of, you know, using the door like a sane person might have done. Unfortunately for us, that window led to a room in which Mr Dare, Mrs Dare and my dad were sitting. 

They stare at us. We stare at them.

“We have come to commit arson,” I say into the silence.

“Okay,” says my father.

“No!” says Mr Dare, standing up. He points a finger at Rachel, trembling. “ What are you doing here?”

Rachel throws a rock at him (she carries around rocks for extracurricular purposes). It misses, but the thought is what matters.

“Lowkey, that was mortally embarrassing,” she murmurs as we all stare at the rock tumble to the ground two feet away from Mr Dare.

Reyna throws a rock at him (she also carries around rocks for extracurricular purposes). It doesn’t miss, and Mr Dare grunts as it collides with his big nose and sends him stumbling backwards. That is when Mrs Dare starts screaming and pointing and sobbing hysterically, causing guards to filter into the room and take hold of Reyna and me, and then Rachel, after Mrs Dare continues to scream about how she’s a “terrible girl” and “mad” and “so, so ungrateful”.

So here we are, in a basement. Ella hums thoughtfully next to us.

“Ella doesn’t like her. She is like cheese. Ella doesn’t like cheese.”

“Preach,” Reyna mutters. “Right, what’s the plan?”

We turn to look at Rachel, who is frowning at the floor. 

“We should blow the house up,” she says. 

Reyna and I stare at her, and then at each other, and then back at Rachel. 

“Okay,” we say. 

We have been arrested. 

You might be wondering, How did this happen? Let me explain.

We blew up the house.

Mr and Mrs Dare were really quite upset about this, which I can’t possibly fathom why as the building was an insult to architecture. They emerged from the crumbling building quite angrily, and started screaming their heads off as soon as they caught sight of Rachel, Reyna and me debating the ethics of bombing a house to Ella, who was worried about the environmental impacts.

My father, in contrast, emerged from the building very exasperated. He put his hands on his hips and raised his eyebrows at me, as though he was saying, really? You just had to bomb the house? I pointedly ignored him. 

A spatter of security guards also came out, but they were less exasperated and less screamy-shouty as they were hopping mad about how they were probably going to get fired for letting us blow up the entire Dare Mansion right under their noses. They decided to solve this problem by hunting us down while waving baseball bats in the air menacingly, and then calling the police after they won the brief game of run-for-your-fucking-lives. 

The police arrived, and after having a dramatic Mrs Dare throw herself at the chief while bemoaning her fate and a screaming Mr Dare work himself into an absolute frenzy that reduced him to just pointing at the three of us (plus Ella) and spluttering, they put us in handcuffs and escorted us into the back of a cop car. 

Here’s where things slightly went wrong. 

Rachel decided she wasn’t actually going to get arrested and then started demanding that the police produce a warrant. The police explained they didn’t need a warrant because they had very evident reason to suspect we had committed an offence, and then Rachel rebutted that, really, what evidence did they have that we bombed the house, except for the word of very biased parties.

While the police tried to explain that the evidence was in the literal ashes of the building, Rachel disabled the shin of the officer guarding her and made a run for it. Reyna and I exchanged glances, shrugged, and followed suit. The Dares, having recovered from their dramatic emotional breakdown, immediately started screaming at Rachel. Rachel, therefore, immediately started screaming at them. What ensued was something like a 2 vs 1 verbal battle in which Rachel was definitely winning, and which the rest of us (Reyna, me, Ella, my dad, the police and the security guards) sort of just watching from the sidelines. 

“YOU,” Mrs Dare screams, “are an ungrateful wretch! How dare you destroy our house?”

“How dare you abandon your own child!” Rachel screams back, “Your house was fucking ugly anyway!”

Mr Dare gasps. Mrs Dare clutches at her pearls. They conveniently ignore the child abandonment part. “Our mansion was a turning point in modern architecture!” Mr Dare scowls.

“Your mansion looks like it was built by a bunch of giants throwing shapes on top of each other!” Rachel bites back in return. “If nothing else, proclaiming that mansion as good-looking will land you in Tartarus!”

“DID YOU JUST CURSE US?” Mrs Dare screams. She grabs her cross necklace from her neck and waves it in Rachel’s direction. Mr Dare crosses himself and prays. “STAY AWAY! Stay away with your witch magic!” 

Rachel throws her head back and laughs like a woman possessed (and maybe she is). “May Apollo set that piece of shit on fire if I speak the truth!” The sun flashes momentarily, blinding us. Mrs Dare shrieks .

A flaming golden arrow shoots from the sky and into the crumbled ruins of the Dare Mansion. It sets alight. 

Mr Dare passes out. Mrs Dare starts shouting out a prayer to the Virgin Mary while running around like a headless chicken. The police nervously back away from Rachel, trying to reach the Dares and save them from being set on fire. 

“Piper!” a voice shouts out. I turn to it. 

Ew.

“Piper,” my father (ew ew ew) says again, slightly out of breath. “Hi.”

I glance at Reyna. We both have the same are-you-serious-right-now look on our faces. I say nothing.

My father clears his throat. “Listen, I just wanted to say –”

“Reyna,” I cue.

Reyna throws a rock at him. 

“Ow,” says my dad. He edges backwards slightly. “Piper, please –”

“Reyna.”

Reyna throws a rock at him. 

My father sighs heavily. “Piper, listen to me! I’m – I’m sorry for how things happened. I should have listened to you –” 

“Yeah, you should have,” I interrupt, folding my arms. “It’s too late now. Whatever you think this –” I gesture at him “– is going to achieve, you’re wrong. I’m done with you.” I turn away.

“Piper –”

“Reyna.”

Reyna throws a rock at him. 

“You are just like your mother!” My father shouts out, holding the side of his head and moving out of (what he thinks is) Reyna’s throwing range. I whirl around. 

“ What did you just say to me?” I seeth. My father’s jaw tightens.

“You’re just like her,” he repeats. “You never listen! You walk away instead of talking things out! You ignore me –”

“DO YOU SEE HOW IT FEELS?” I scream. My father flinches. “I was a child. I needed you. You abandoned me first. I’m not going to listen because there is nothing you could say to change the fact that you ignored me when I told you I was being hunted down everywhere I went. I was a child . I was four years old! I needed you to protect me, and you failed . I owe you nothing.” 

Rachel appears and punches him in the face. He goes straight down. Rachel kicks him for good measure. I turn around and walk away. 

It was harder doing it the first time. When I first left, he was the only person I had. I walked out and left everything behind. I had nothing until Luke found me. It’s not the same this time around. I have people. I have everything I need. My father simply isn’t one of those things anymore. 

Rachel and Reyna don’t follow immediately behind me. I hear a slight scuffle behind me, more shouting and a half-hearted attempt by the police to follow us. I don’t turn back.

Soon, Rachel and Reyna catch up, breathing hard but walking in step with me. 

“What a shitshow,” Rachel mutters. I huff out a laugh in agreement. 

“Shitshow,” Ella echoes.

“I stole Mrs Dare’s credit card, by the way,” Reyna declares, producing the offending object. “We engage in combat.”

Rachel laughs. “I stole Piper’s dad’s credit card,” she produces it as well. 

We stare at the two credit cards probably worth more money than everything we collectively own, and swallow back the urge to burst into evil laughter. 

“Let’s go shopping.”

We are absolutely high on a never-ending spending limit.

After shoving everything we could eat into our mouths, we hit the retail shops. We are now probably the most fashionable group of criminal questers to ever quest. We got manicures, then pedicures, and then redid our manicures. We paid to have our hair professionally washed and styled, and our skin is as clear and smooth as glass. We even get Ella cleaned up. We are fabulous. 

Of course, getting glamorised while also being hunted down by monsters and the police was a bit complicated, but we managed. (Reyna threw rocks at them.) 

“I wonder what the limit is on these,” Reyna says idly.

“You think we can buy a helicopter before the cards are disabled?” I ask mischievously. “Hey, Rach –” I pause. We have lost Rachel.

Reyna and I both look at the space between us where Rachel should be. We look behind us. Rachel is standing a few paces behind, staring straight ahead in shock. 

“Rachel?” Reyna asks tentatively. 

“Oh, my gods,” Rachel says. She raises her hand to point. We follow her fingers and turn, coming to stare at an antique auction in progress. We immediately notice what has caught Rachel’s attention.

“No way,” I breathe, moving closer. There, on the stand, is a golden stick, decorated with two snakes and wings. It’s a caduceus. It’s Hermes’ Caduceus. What’s more is that right beside the Caduceus is a winged figure attempting to cross his arms while his wrists are bound. He is staring at us as though daring us to turn around. 

“It can’t be that easily,” Reyna murmurs. “Surely.”

“Here we go, folks!” The auctioneer shouts jubilously, “A two-in-one deal! A golden wand, complete with incredibly realistic wings and decorated with snakes so detailed they might just be alive! As well as a life-sized statue of the Roman god Mors! Don’t miss this deal!”

“THANATOS!” the winged god shouts in outrage, though none of the mortals react. 

“God of Death,” Ella supplies for us helpfully. Reyna’s jaw drops open.

“Starting at thirty grand! Do we have a bid?”

“I’m worth more than that!” Thanatos snaps. Rachel, Reyna and I glance at each other. We look down at our credit cards, and then back at the indignant god and caduceus. 

“Holy shit,” says Rachel.

“Do I hear a sixty-five thousand?” The auctioneer yells, “That’s sixty-five thousand! Going once, going twice –”

“ONE HUNDRED!” Reyna yells. The auctioneer blinks, but continues. 

“The price is rapidly rising! One hundred grand! Any higher bids?”

A short, blonde woman with a bob turns to glare at us. “One five!” she shouts. I hear Rachel’s sharp intake of breath. Reyna narrows her eyes. I crack my knuckles. 

“One ten!” I shout. 

“One fifteen!” the lady responds. 

“One fifty!” Rachel interjects. 

The lady with a bob looks like she’s about to explode. She breathes in deeply. 

“Two hundred!” She shouts. 

Oh, we are at war . 

“THREE HUNDRED!” I scream.

“FOUR HUNDRED!”

“FIVE HUNDRED!”

“TEN HUNDRED!”

The auctioneer and other assembled bidders watch our battle with Blondie like they’re at a tennis match. The auctioneer’s eyes are blown wide. Thanatos watches from the side with raised eyebrows. 

Rachel climbs on top of an empty seat. She inhales. “FIFTY HUNDRED THOUSAND!” She bellows at Blondie. Blondie screams. 

“SEVENTY FIVE HUNDRED THOUSAND!” Blondie shrieks back at her.

“ONE HUNDRED MILLION,” Reyna declares. Blondie passes out. 

“Going once…?” The auctioneer says weakly.

“SOLD!” Reyna shouts, waving around her stolen credit card. The auctioneer bangs his gavel to finalise it. Triumphantly, Reyna struts up to the front, smirking smugly at Blondie, who’s blinking blearily in the arms of her husband. The auctioneer pulls out a payment terminal and shakily puts one hundred million into it. Reyna taps her card, grinning like a marathon champion.

The card declines. 

“Erm, just try it again,” Reyna mutters, laughing nervously. The auctioneer narrows his eyes. She tries again. 

The card declines. 

“Rachel, get over here,” Reyna hisses. Rachel jogs up front and taps her card. 

The card declines. 

We all stare. 

Reyna clears her throat. “Um, well, anyway –” she grabs the caduceus and runs . 

“Hey!” The auctioneer shouts. “Hey! Security!” 

Rachel squawks and flounders on the stage, looking between the bound god and freedom.

“Don’t you dare leave me here,” Thanatos says. 

Rachel leaves him there. Security descends upon her as she follows Reyna. Ella squawks and follows after them. I sigh and wonder why I have been left responsible. I pray to Hermes; if you ever want your Caduceus back, you better make sure this heist is successful.

I run towards Thanatos. I hope security remains occupied with Reyna and Rachel. 

“At least one of you has some sense!” Thanatos sighs in relief. I glance at the chains that are tethering Thanatos to the stage and pull out my dagger. It’s not hard to break the binds at his feet. He tuts impatiently. “A little faster?”

“Shut up,” I shoot back. I move up to break the chains at his wrists, but he pulls away before I can. 

“You don’t want to do that,” he warns, “not with that dagger.” 

I stare at him, unimpressed. “Fine. But that means you’re running in handcuffs. I’m not saving your ass.” The god makes an affronted noise as I turn around. “Come on then, before security catches us –”

Thanatos yelps. I spin back around and come face to face with Blondie, who honestly looks like an emotional wreck. She’s holding onto Thanatos’ arm. 

“I am getting this statue!” She screams. Thanatos grimaces as spittle lands on him. 

I sigh. “Lady, let go.”

“No!”

I turn on the charmspeak. “Let go.”

“NO!” 

What a bitch. Fine. Whatever. We can do this the hard way. 

I grab Thanatos’ other arm. We engage in a high-stakes game of tug of war. Thanatos is screaming indignantly.

“Let – Go – You – WRETCH!” Blondie grunts. 

“No – Fucking – Way!” I shout back. I pull on Thanatos’ arm sharply, and suddenly I am stumbling backwards. Blondie is screaming and kicking at the ground, having let go of Thanatos. 

“Get away!” she screams, kicking at a fucking tortoise . “Get away, you beast!” 

Thanatos, inexplicably, starts laughing maniacally. 

The tortoise bites Blondie.

“I’M GOING TO GET RABIES!” she screams. She passes out. 

Thanatos falls over. He’s shitting himself. 

A very disgruntled figure appears in the place of the tortoise. He narrows his eyes at Thanatos. “Given that you’re in chains right now, I wouldn’t be laughing.”

“I’m in chains, but you have rabies,” Thanatos bites back. “Oh, Mother, Perse is going to love this.” 

The no-longer-a-tortoise god frowns and sighs, but grabs hold of Thanatos and offers a hand out to me. “Come, I’ll take you to your friends.”

I glance around at the chaos around me. The auctioneer is screaming, the security guards are starting to notice that I’m with Reyna and Rachel, and are beginning to move towards me. Blondie’s husband is screaming hysterically while clutching his wife’s body as if she’s dead. I take the god’s hand. 

Suddenly, I am standing next to Rachel and Reyna, who shriek at my sudden appearance. I’ve got to admit, they made it pretty far. The god looks at the following security guards and flicks his wrists. They disappear. I don’t ask where.

Rachel bends over and wheezes, sucking in air. “Gosh, I am so doing that again.” Reyna lets out a laugh, heaving. 

The god smirks. “I have to admire the heist you pulled off in order to retrieve my Caduceus.”

We all pause. 

“ Your caduceus?” Rachel repeats.

“Yes.” 

I slap the god Hermes. 

Thanatos falls over laughing again. 

Hermes stumbles back, clutching his cheek. He blinks. “I probably deserved that.” 

Reyna throws a rock at him. 

Hermes closes his eyes and nods. “Probably deserved that one too.” 

I slap him again. 

“Now you’re edging into unwarranted territory,” Hermes mutters. 

“ Unwarranted?! ” I hiss, narrowing my eyes. “No. What was unwarranted was you abandoning your son! ” 

Ella tsks and pecks Hermes on the back of his neck. He bats her away in irritation. 

“You don’t understand,” Hermes says dismissively. 

“Oh, don’t I?” I say, crossing my arms. “So, you’re telling me you didn’t abandon your son with a mad woman because you were scared Daddy would be mad?”

Thanatos sucks in a sharp breath. Hermes’ jaw tightens. “Don’t you dare – ”

“I will!” I snap. “You are a piece of fucking shit. I know it. Luke knows it. You know it. You abandoned your son; you don’t get to play that off.”

Hermes glares. I snort and turn away. “Was Daddy happy?”

There’s a scuffle behind me. I glance back to see Thanatos gripping Hermes’ arm with both his bound hands.

“Don’t,” he warns. “Don’t be stupid, Hermes.”

Hermes shrugs Thanatos off and whirls around. He snatches the Caduceus out of Reyna’s hands and stalks off. 

“And tell the other freaks to stop watching us on their cameras!” I shout at his retreating back. Hermes shoots a glare at me and disappears in a flash of light. 

Thanatos turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “That was stupid.”

I turn my glare to him. “You shut up,” I say fiercely. “You don’t get a say in anything, considering you almost ended up as a household decoration.” Thanatos tuts but stays silent.

“Let’s find somewhere to set up camp,” Rachel says shortly, breaking the tense silence. I nod curtly and follow her as she starts walking, Reyna beside me and Ella and Thanatos behind us. I’m so ready for this quest to be over already. 

Chapter Text

LEO

Inexplicably, we are being hunted down.

To say we are being hunted down without reason may be incorrect, but I am personally feeling very targeted. It would be alright if the hordes (and I mean hordes) of monsters chasing after us wherever we go were just chasing Frank, because Frank is mean, and horrible, and he smells. But no, the monsters are chasing me as well, one even threw a rock at my head! Very rude, very uncalled for. 

Typically, we would just jump on Festus and fly away, but there are two problems with that. One, Festus is not very happy that I crashed him into a lake yesterday. As a result, he is decidedly not allowing me to fly him again. Problem two is that there are swarms of Stymphalian birds, harpies, winged serpents, and birds that are shooting ARROWS at us in the sky. This also means that Festus is not in the sky at all, and is in fact running away from the monsters with us (he’s a wuss). 

We have been running for what feels like hours. There are rampant, malicious wind spirits battering us as we run, trying to trip us and push us backwards. Jason has attempted to control them or at least send them away, but he’s failed every time. Frank has to keep slashing at them with his sword just so we can keep moving forward. I routinely check my bottomless toolbelt for anything that can help us, occasionally pulling out a grenade or jar of Greek fire, which I throw at the hordes behind me but which do not appear to deter them. Auster is surprisingly fast, and manages to keep up with us, but can do nothing to help the current situation. Festus breathes fire at them every so often, but he’s mainly focused on running away as fast as he can so that we get stampeded by the monsters first (again, he’s a wuss). 

We have no idea what we’ve done to these monsters to cause them to chase us as a collective group. We have no possible way of defeating them, and they won’t relent, so we’re stuck running endlessly. The gods have decided to ignore our buckets of desperate prayers, which is a bit rich when you counter the fact that we’re the ones helping them get back their special toys.

Did I mention the Earth has also decided to try to kill us? Well it has. Flowers grow and bite our heels. Ditches form and then immediately close up when we fall in them, forcing us to repeatedly pause to wrench our legs out of the ground. Grass spurts up and wraps around our legs, trying to trap us. We can do nothing but run. 

Jason gasps beside me, heaving heavily, and manages to shout breathlessly, “Cliff!”

I look ahead and see that he’s right. We’ve run so far we’ve reached a cliff. Soon, we’re going to have no option but to jump. A geyser of lava shoots into the air from beyond the edge. Okay, I am not jumping.

“I –” Jason struggles to get out, “– can try to – harness the – wind spirits.”

Frank slices at a wind spirit pressing down on us, and I know deep down that is not going to work.

“Transform,” Frank grunts, “into a bird.”

I assume that Frank means he’s going to somehow transform into a bird big enough to carry both Jason and I across the cliff, though I can’t imagine how that’ll work with the wind working against us, and when Frank is surely exhausted and energy-less. 

I swallow and look back at the cliff, just in time to see a woman form out of the ground. I freeze, feeling all the blood drain from my face, and scream. I am immediately locked into place by hundreds of blades of grass holding me down. 

Jason glances back and falters, grabbing Frank’s arm. He stares at me, at the monsters, and at her. Frank looks at her too, and he frowns, gripping his sword tightly. 

“Don’t,” I gasp, “you won’t – you won’t be able to – fight her.”

The woman laughs, and suddenly rather than a few hundred meters ahead, she is right in front of us. Jason stumbles back. Frank tenses, squaring his shoulders. Up close, the woman is just as I remember her. Dark, bushy hair strewn with leaves, trailing into the ground around her. Her skin is as bronze as the soil of the earth, her eyes a glowing green, and her robes seem to blend and become the grass itself. 

“Gaea,” I breathe. Jason inhales sharply, pulling out his spear but holding it by his side, knowing it will be useless. Frank takes a few steps backward, glancing back at me. I shake my head, looking away, and then I am looking into her deep, bottomless eyes as she kneels right beside me. 

“Leo Valdez,” she whispers, grinning, and her teeth are sharp as thorns. “Have you remembered me?”

“Get away from him,” Jason demands, sounding much braver than I could ever imagine myself being if I were him. He holds his spear at the ready, and it crackles with electricity. 

Gaea laughs, and suddenly Jason is falling, being pulled backwards by thick vines, his spear clattering out of his grasp. Frank goes to cut the vines only to suffer the same fate. 

“Jason Grace,” Gaea tilts her head as she appears in front of him, gripping his chin. He bears his teeth and she sneers and pushes him backwards. “You all look the same, you men of the sky. You’ll fall all the same.” 

“Frank Zhang,” Gaea grins when she looks at him, and Frank glares. “Where’s your stick?” she asks, and Frank scowls at her. Gaea’s grin grows. 

“Little heroes,” she croons, widening her arms, “won’t you join me?”

“Never!” Frank growls, and struggles in his binds. Gaea appears him, hands on his shoulders, and he tenses. 

“I haven’t even finished my offer,” she murmurs into his ear, but we all hear it.

“We’ll never join you,” Frank declares, “never. I don’t care what you have to offer.”

She tuts, and strokes his hair. “You silly boy, playing soldier. Aren’t you so angry? So angry at the gods who have abandoned you?” She gestures around her. “Where are they now, little heroes? You fight for them, and they have left you to die.”

“We don’t fight for them,” Jason speaks up, and then starts choking as tendrils of plants grow to cover his mouth, leeching inside. 

I cry out, and struggle to escape to stop the malicious plants that seem to be trying to kill Jason, and Frank snarls. 

“We don’t fight for them,” Frank echoes, “we fight for ourselves. We’re loyal to each other, not them.”

“But you fight to avenge them,” Gaea hums. “To restore their power.”

“Only so they don’t kill us!”

Jason’s face is turning purple.

“Aren’t you so angry?” She whispers, and suddenly everything disappears in the blink of an eye. One second, I am staring at Jason as he thrashes in his binds, and the next, I am standing on a cold marble floor, staring at a door with closed shutters.

A hand comes to rest on my shoulder. “Open it,” Gaea says. I do not want to. I have been in that room before. I do not want to go again.

“Open the door, Leo,” Gaea repeats, and I do.

Inside the room is a small, cold table that sits four. Three of the chairs are occupied; a woman, a man, and a small child. The light is harsh and artificial, all the windows are covered by shutter blinds. I take a step forward, and the scene in front of me bursts into life.

“I will not have that boy in my house!” the woman screeches, pointing her finger at the child – at me. 

“Ms Valdez –” the social worker attempts to get a few words in, but is cut off by the woman.

“Diablo!” She screams, “he killed my sister! Will he kill me too? My mijo? No! I will not let him!”

I know how this scene will play out. The woman – Tia Rosa – will scream some more, and refuse point blank to take me in. The social worker will sit me down and tell me I will be put in a temporary home until a foster carer takes me in. He will not say that the only reason they did not throw me into juvie is because there is no concrete evidence I lit the fire, but I know every adult in that building is thinking it.

He will take my arm tightly and lead me out of the building, and I will pull away when he is distracted by a phone call and run. Run and run and run for hours until my legs give way underneath me. Thalia and Luke will find me under Houston Bridge five days later, alone and starving, scared out of my mind by the strange men with teeth that are too sharp and the wild dogs with glowing eyes.

I look away as Tia Rosa raises her voice again. The scene shifts, and I am staring at grass. Warm summer wind blows my hair across my face, and the moon shines brightly from behind a few clouds. My mouth dries. 

Reluctantly, I watch as the grass at my feet ripples unnaturally, the wind picking up. I follow the direction the grass wavers, walking tentatively as the ground seems to sink under my steps.

I pause when I reach the warehouse. I see myself, seven years old, tapping frantically on the warehouse door. I watch as the veiled figure approaches my younger self, cloaked in dirt. A hand rests on my shoulder again, and I don’t have to turn around to know it’s Gaea. 

“I cannot destroy you yet,” Gaea of the scene murmurs to my younger self. “The Fates will not allow it. But they do not protect your mother, and they cannot stop me from breaking your spirit. Remember this night, little hero, when they ask you to oppose me.”

I do remember it, I am remembering it. Gaea had not failed in breaking my spirit. It’s evident now, as I stand with her hand on my shoulder, too defeated to move to shrug it off. I want to cry.

Distantly, the warehouse catches on fire. My younger self passes out at the centre of the flames. My eyes cloud with tears.

“Open the door, Leo,” Gaea whispers into my ear, and I cannot resist her. My hands close around the handle and I tug it open. It had not been that easy when I was seven.

I spot my mother instantly, coughing on her knees as the flames burn fierce around her. She turns to me, and my heart stops.

Some part of me – that rational, reasonable part of me that sounds more than a bit like Frank – knows that this is not entirely real. The woman looking at me now is not my mother – because I killed my mother – and she cannot hurt me. I know this.

But as her face twists in pain, reason flies from my mind. I am afraid. This woman has my mother's face, and it is twisted in pain as I stand frozen and watch the fire melt the skin on her face.

“Leo,” she rasps, and I sob.

“Go help her,” Gaea tells me. I shake my head, trembling. The woman reaches out a hand to me.

“Help me,” she shrieks, terrible and raw. I cannot look away. I cannot move.

“Help your mother, Leo,” Gaea urges. “Look at what you’ve done to her. Go help her.”

“Please,” I whisper, “please don’t make me.”

The woman stands, horrible and disfigured. Part of her hair is in flames, and I am too scared to scream as she hobbles towards me. Her hands grab my face and for the first time in my life, it burns.

“Why,” she cries, “why won't you help me, mijo?”

“I’m sorry,” I croak, face wet with tears, “I’m sorry, mama, please.” 

Diablo, Tia Rosa’s voice echoes in my mind. Devil. How could you do this.

My knees hit the ground and lift my arms above my head as my mother bears down on me. The fire burns. The fire burns me. 

I scream. Gaea cackles. My mother’s melted hands press into my skin.

Frank

I blink, and suddenly I am somewhere else. I would be alarmed, but I recognise the room. 

The parlour of my grandmother’s house is full of vintage photos of relatives I don’t know, porcelain vases that each look identical, and red banners decorated with chinese calligraphy. 

In the centre of the room is a velvet couch, where my younger self sits. It’s disorientating, staring at myself. The younger me is eight, small and chubby where I am not after years of running and scavenging and fighting for survival. My grandmother is next to me, a small mahogany chest in her hands that I remember easily.

I watch with a detached sort of feeling as she explains what is going to happen now. My mother is dead, my life is tethered to a stick in a box, and wolves will come for me that night to take me to camp.

I had never gone to camp. I hadn’t been at my grandmother’s house when the wolves arrived. No, I had grabbed the box and the stick and fled.

Some might call it cowardly, foolish, selfish. I called it survival. I was eight. Grandmother had spoken of a training camp for children of gods. I did not want to train. I did not want to join an army like my mother. War had gotten my mother killed, and I did not want to die. 

I had met Percy later that night. Percy had been just as lost as myself, and the two of us stuck with each other. I told him about grandmother’s stories – gods that were Greek and Roman and Chinese. Sticks that controlled how long I lived. Camps where they trained kids for war. 

Percy had decided he must be a child of the god too. He spoke of monsters, ones that looked like men but were evil and terrible. It hadn’t taken much for me to work out my family gift, only a horde of cyclopes. Percy learnt he could control water. I learnt I could turn into animals. Thalia and Luke had found us only a few hours later, shivering and battle-worn. Annabeth, Leo and Piper had already been in tow, and we had eagerly taken on the invitation of warmth.

My eyes refocus on the scene in front of me. Grandmother passes the mahogany chest to me, and my younger self opens it cautiously. Percy carried that piece of firewood now, had for years. Water couldn’t catch on fire, and I trusted Percy more than perhaps I should. He hadn’t failed me yet; I knew he would lay down his life before he let that stick catch flames.

A door to my left creaks open, inviting me to go through it. I indulge.

I walk into a forest, and I pause for a second to survey the scene. I recognise Percy, suspended in the air by a wave of water; Jason pulling himself out of a tree he'd been flung into; and Annabeth, Yankees cap in hand. I see my younger self in the form of an eagle. I also spot the cyclopes. I feel sick as I step forward and the scene bursts into life.

A piercing scream splits the air as Cyclops lunges for Percy, club in hand. His sharp nails sear across Percy's face and he falls, falls, falls towards the ground. Jason shouts in alarm, trying to dodge the second Cyclops attempting to pick him out of the air. Annabeth drives a sword into the first Cyclops and it explodes into dust. The younger me dives through the air, rushing to catch Percy before he hits the ground.

Time goes forward. Jason, Annabeth and my younger self lean over Percy, his face covered in blood. Annabeth wipes it off in a rush, fabric torn from Jason's shirt. Percy's gasping for breath, reaching desperately for something, someone to hold onto. I walk forward in dismay.

“I can't see!” He cries, his own hands wiping the blood from his eyes. “I can't – I can't see anything. I can't –” He's hyperventilating.

I reach the group; Jason agape, Annabeth desperate and my younger self afraid. Percy turns towards me, clawing the air to reach me.

“Help me,” he gasps, “Frank, help me!”

There is nothing I can do. I know this. This has already happened. Anything I do will change nothing. And yet, my heart aches.

“Why won't you help me?” Percy asks, uncomprehendingly. “Please, help me. Frank!”

A hand lands on my shoulder and I whip around, my hand reaching for an empty sheath. Gaea smiles. 

“Won't you help him, Frank?”

I swallow. “I can't. This isn't real.”

“Frank, why didn't you save me? You should've done something to save me. Frank, help me. Help me. This is your fault,” Percy begs, hands clawing at my legs.

Gaea tilts her head. “He's asking for your help, Frank. Will you fail him a second time?”

I push her hand off me, free myself from Percy's – Not Percy's – grasp, and I run. Not Percy screams behind me, wailing. Gaea disappears. 

Another door appears out of nowhere and I rip it open, soaring through.

The place I step out into is not one I have ever been to, but it's one that is not hard to recognise. Afterall, why else would a barren warfield be in my nightmares?

A trembling sob wrecks the air and I turn, already knowing what I will see. My mother meets my eyes and she extends an unsteady hand, imploring almost. The ends of her hands are claws.

I shudder as I notice and I peer closer. When she grimaces and bears her teeth in pain, they're sharp and pointed like a lion's. Her hair is shedding, in some parts clumps of dark fur and in others strands of thin black hair. Her skin is textured like scales.

She shifted too much.

Some part of me had always known that overusing your powers could burn you out, kill you. Annabeth had told us multiple times. Sometimes, after a big fight, you could see it in the others. Leo's skin would glow like his veins pumped fire, leaving him harshly hot and panting. Jason's skin would be etched with lightning marks, faint and fading but there all the same. Percy's skin would go tight and parched, like all the water had been squeezed out of him. Meg would go grey, like a wilting flower, and grow exhausted. I had never pushed my limits, but now I know what it would look like if I did.

The sounds that my mother makes sounds like a jumble of pained animals. She gasps and reaches for me. When she speaks, her voice is scratchy.

“Fai, please,” she begs. “Darling, my darling, please.”

I move closer. I cannot help it.

My mother grasps my arms when I'm in reach and pleads, for what I do not know. Her eyes are full of tears.

I know when Gaea appears again behind me. I feel the wind change. I don't look at her.

“Frank, why don't you help your mother? Can't you see she's in pain?”

I ignore her. I don't know what she's trying to do – collapse me into a sobbing mess perhaps – but I will not let her succeed.

My mother's pained eyes flicker between my face and Gaea. She opens her mouth and closes it again with a grimace. The way she stares at me feels more real than the phantom Percy. 

I frown and try to understand what she is trying to tell me. My mother is frozen, half beast and half woman. She is trapped in a world between mortals and gods, humans and the earth. And suddenly I realise. Her death did not come at the hands of War, at the blade of a sword or bullet of a gun like I had thought. She had died slowly to her gift, her powers that had been a blessing from the Earth. She died at Gaea's hands, not my father's. She died, or is dying, at Gaea's hands the same way Leo's mother had done.

“I'll help you mama,” I whisper to her as I pull a dagger out of my belt. The small smile she gives me looks like it causes her a world of pain, but it's genuine. A flood of relief surges through me as I plunge the dagger through her chest, at last at peace with her death. It had not been her fault, or my fault, or my father's. She had not chosen to leave me, had not chosen a noble death over being my mother. She had not been whisked away by my father. She had been taken into Gaea's cruel arms. 

Gaea had wanted to hurt me, had known perhaps there would be a time where I would come to oppose her the same way she had known with Leo. She had played her hand long before I understood why, but she had not won the game. I will not let her.

Gaea screeches behind me as she realises what I've done, what I know. I turn as she vanishes. I move away from my mother's body, peaceful at last in Thanatos’ gentle embrace. I keep walking until another door opens, and I wrench it open and step into a world of fire.

I know who is screaming before I see him. Leo is cowering, sobbing underneath a flickering shade. I don't recognise her but I can tell from Leo's stories who she is. 

Gaea is next to Leo, yelling into his ears. Leo sobs and gasps for breath and screams. He screams like he's being tortured, burned to death. I stare at Esperanza Valdez’s flicking, flaming figure and I realised he is. He's being burnt by this corporal projection of his own mother.

Gaea looks up at me, and she smiles. She wiggles her finger at me, shaking her head, and earthly tendrils shoot up from the ground and wrap around my legs. I shout out as they begin to pull me down, and that horrible flickering shade looks at me, agony and dismay written all over her face. Leo continues to scream.

The poor woman's face is half melted. Esperanza stares at me through the one eye still distinguishable. She reaches out a hand, scarred in burns. I cannot do anything, Gaea's vines pulling me down, down, down. Esperanza seems to realise I will not move towards her and she turns back to Leo, her molten hands grasping his shoulders, begging him in a scratchy voice.

She does not mean to harm him, I can see that. She cannot stop hurting him. She begs him to let her go and Leo cannot, will not, and so she writhes and burns in this eternal agony Gaea has trapped her in, the same way the goddess trapped my mother. Esperanza does not mean to scare him, and Leo does not fear her, he fears what he has done, what he cannot finish.

My knees sink below the earth and I shout out to Leo. “I'm here!” I say, because there is nothing else I can do to comfort him. “I'm here, Leo, you're okay.”

Leo's smoking hands find their way into his messy hair and he stares at me with bloodshot eyes. He flinches as Esperanza tries to cup his face. She wails.

“She needs you to let her go,” I tell him. “You need to let her go, Leo. She'll be okay.” 

Leo shakes his head frantically and sobs. “I can't. I can't. I killed her.”

“It wasn't your fault,” Gaea's roots seem to be pulling me down faster. She knows what I am doing. “You can't change it, Leo. You need to let her go. You need to let her fire go out now.”

Leo heaves, his chest rising up and down as we lock eyes. He’s trembling, his hands gripping his hair, his knees pulled to his chest. Gaea yells the opposite of what I’m saying into his ear, Esperanza sobs in front of him, reaching for him. My heart breaks. 

I’m here, I mouth, because I doubt he can hear me, I’ll be here, you’re not alone. 

He stares at me, eyes flickering to Esperanza. His hands shake as he reaches for her, and she surges forward. She rests her forehead on his as his hands cup her face. He’s whispering something to her as he sobs, something I can’t hear over the roar of the flames around us. I sink further into the ground, struggling. Leo breathes deeply, and the flames around us seem to be absorbed into him. The flames licking Esperanza’s body surge into his hands, and his skin ignites with a red hot glow. 

The building goes eerily silent. Gaea has disappeared, evidently deciding to have given up with Leo. I’m stuck half way into the ground.

“I’m sorry, mama,” Leo whispers. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Mijo,” Esperanza rasps, “please.”

Leo stares into her eyes, his own bloodshot. “I didn’t mean to,” he says, lip wobbling. “Mama, I miss you.”

Esperanza’s burned hands trail across Leo’s face, brushing his hair out of his eyes. She opens her mouth to respond but seems unable to form the words. Leo closes his eyes and breathes deeply. 

“I can’t fix it,” Leo croaks. “But I can – I can end it.” He heaves. “I let you go,” he murmurs, “I let you go now. I can’t hold you here anymore. I’m sorry, mama. I never meant to hurt you.” 

Esperanza smiles and kisses Leo’s forehead. A cloaked god appears from the shadows, a golden rod in his hand and a wide brimmed hat atop his head. He beckons for Esperanza, and she rises to follow the deity. The god leads her through a doorway that had previously not been there, and which is engraved in symbols and runes I can’t decipher. The god pauses at the doorway and glances back at both Leo and I. He waves his golden wand, and I’m free from the earth I’m trapped in. He gestures to a doorway to our left, and then tips his hat at us before disappearing.

I stumble over to Leo, who turns to me desperately with red rimmed eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to keep her here,” he says, begging me to understand, and I do. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” I murmur as I help him to his feet. “It was Gaea.”

As if on cue, the Earth rumbles beneath us, and starts sinking. I grab Leo’s hand and pull him towards the door the cloaked god had indicated to us. I wrench it open and we run through memories. We pass a younger Leo shivering underneath the Houston Bridge. We pass a younger me sprinting through a forest, glancing over my shoulder as branches snag my clothes. We pass a scene of a dark-haired woman placing an infant over a fire. We pass a scene from inside my childhood house, with the same woman as before pointing out a burning stick in a fireplace.

Finally, we pull open a door and it leads us outside the rooms of memories and to the same desolate place we were before, surrounded by hordes of monsters. Jason glances back at us as we stumble through the door, relief washing over his face. He has a sword in his hand, and stands in front of a pile of dust. 

“You have chosen to fight me, little heroes,” Gaea says coldly, nowhere to be seen but her voice echoing all around us. “You will regret that.”

Suddenly, the horde of monsters lunges for us. The wind spirits, birds and winged serpents diving from above, and the cynocephali, cyclopes, hydras and manticores racing behind us. We turn and flee, sprinting for the edge of the cliff with no other option. 

“Jump!” Leo screams as we near the edge. 

We jump, falling through the air. The lava at the bottom races toward us, and I clench my eyes shut, trying to transform into anything that can help us but not being able to form anything. Jason shouts out prayers and grasps at the air. Leo grabs my arm, and then Jason, and then we are engulfed in a ball of flames, being licked by them but not burned. 

“Pray,” Leo whispers as we fall.